Stared.

The whole place had completely changed. The old wooden bar had been replaced with a steel and glass one, behind which was a wide, open hatch through to the busy kitchen. The manky old carpet was gone, and the floor was now limed wooden planks. The walls were freshly painted a soft grey, lit with modern, stainless steel fittings. The interior was filled with round glass tables and grey suede-covered chairs, with a candle burning on each table. Smart-looking diners were dotted around, eating designer food, drinking from fine crystal, while tall, impossibly chic waiting staff, all dressed in black, moved around as if they had been choreographed. Just inside the entrance, an elegant woman with sculpted hair stood behind a Perspex lectern with a built-in lamp, ready to greet diners.

She did not look up as they approached her.

‘Wow!’ Jason said. ‘This is some change!’

She still did not look up.

Jason felt the door open. A couple walked in behind them. Two very classy-looking women, one with long dark hair, the other blonde, razor-cut.

‘We’re a bit late,’ the dark-haired one said. ‘We reserved in the name of Saltmarsh.’

‘Demetra?’ the greeter looked up at her, full of smiles.

‘Yes.’

‘Follow me, please.’

Jason and Emily watched the two women being seated. Within moments, a waiter glided to their table with menus.

The greeter returned to her lectern and made a mark on her tablet; presumably, Jason thought, ticking off the reservation.

‘Is – er – is Lester Beeson around?’ Jason asked her.

She did not look up.

He turned to Emily.

She wasn’t there.

82

Thursday 27 December

Jason looked behind him, then across the restaurant. There was no sign of Emily. Had she gone to the loo?

Where was that now? Everything had changed in here. The door he remembered from before, which used to lead to the toilets, was now an alcove with a curved banquette.

‘Excuse me,’ he said to the greeter. ‘Which way are the loos?’

Busy checking what looked like a seating plan of the room, she did not react.

‘Erm – the loos?’ he repeated. ‘Could you tell me where they are?’

This time she did look up, but not in response to his question. It was to smile at another couple who had just entered. An instant later they were in front of him, blocking his view of her.

How rude of them barging past him – and of her to ignore him, he thought, indignantly.

‘Name of Nick Godfrey,’ the man said.

‘Party of four?’

‘Correct.’

‘Your guests are already here, Mr Godfrey.’

She took their coats and led them off.

Jason turned around, utterly bewildered. He went back outside into what seemed to be turning into a hurricane. There was no sign of Emily. He returned to the restaurant. ‘My wife – she came in with me,’ he said to the greeter. ‘Is it possible you could check the Ladies for me? I think she must be unwell.’