An Unwanted Guest(17)

For a moment they remain perfectly still, listening. They hear a woman’s voice, shouting.

Riley throws her legs over the bed and pulls on her robe against the chill, while Gwen scrambles to do the same, saying, ‘Wait for me.’

Riley grabs the key as the two of them slip out of the door. The second-floor corridor is unexpectedly dark, and they stop suddenly, disoriented. Riley remembers that she needs to talk to Gwen about last night, but now is not the time. She’s just grateful to have Gwen here with her. She doesn’t know what she would do if anything happened to Gwen.

‘The power must be out,’ Gwen says.

Riley and Gwen make their way to the grand staircase, barefoot. Holding on to the polished rail, they race down the stairs as other footsteps can be heard running in the darkened hotel.

Then Riley stops abruptly. The faint light coming in through the front windows illuminates a ghastly sight below her. Dana lies sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, perfectly still, her limbs in an unnatural position beneath her navy satin robe. Her lovely, long dark hair spills all around her, but her face has an unmistakable pallor. She knows immediately that Dana is dead.

Lauren is kneeling on the floor beside her, leaning over her, her hand pressed against Dana’s neck, feeling for a pulse. She looks up at them, stricken. ‘I just found her.’ Her voice is strained.

Riley continues slowly down the stairs until she is standing on the last step, right above the body. She can feel Gwen’s presence behind her, hears her broken sob.

‘Was that you who screamed?’ Riley asks.

Lauren nods, tearful.

Riley notices Bradley and his father, James, standing nearby. James is staring at the body of the dead woman at the bottom of his staircase, his face slack with shock. Bradley seems unable to look at Dana, staring at Lauren instead as she hovers over the body. Then James moves forward and reaches down hesitantly.

‘She’s dead,’ Lauren tells him.

He pulls his hand back, almost gratefully.

David hears the scream and jumps out of bed. He throws on a bathrobe, grabs his key, and leaves his room. At the top of the landing he pauses and looks down at the ragged little gathering below. He sees Dana – clearly dead – lying at the foot of the stairs in her bathrobe, Lauren beside her. Riley and Gwen have their backs to him. James is pale and Bradley looks suddenly much younger than he did last night. David hears a noise above him, glances up quickly, and sees Henry and Beverly coming after him, also still in their pyjamas, drawing their robes closed and tying them shut.

‘What happened?’ David says, hurrying down the stairs.

‘We don’t know,’ James says, his voice shaking. ‘It looks like she fell down the stairs.’

David comes closer.

‘I couldn’t find a pulse,’ Lauren says.

David squats down and studies the body without touching it, a grimness taking hold of him. Finally he says, ‘She’s been dead for a while. She must have fallen in the middle of the night.’ He wonders aloud, ‘Why would she have been out of her room?’ He’s noted the terrible gash on the side of her head, the blood on the edge of the bottom step. He takes it all in with a practised eye, and feels unaccountably weary.

‘Dear God,’ Beverly whispers. ‘That poor girl.’

David looks up at the rest of them. Beverly has turned her face away, but Henry is staring solemnly at the body. David glances at Gwen – her face is tear-stained, and her lower lip is trembling. He longs to comfort her, but he doesn’t. Riley’s staring at the dead woman as if she can’t tear her eyes away. He notices then that Matthew is missing.

‘Someone has to tell Matthew,’ he says, his heart sinking, knowing it will probably be him. He takes one more look at James and then at all the stricken faces now staring back at him as they remember Matthew. ‘I’ll do it.’ Standing up, he adds, ‘We’d better call the police.’

‘We can’t,’ James says harshly. ‘The power’s out. And the phone. We can’t contact the police.’

‘Then someone has to go and get them,’ David says.

‘How?’ Bradley asks. ‘Look outside. Everything is a sheet of ice.’

James shakes his head slowly. ‘The power lines must be down because of the ice storm. It’s hazardous out there. Nobody’s going anywhere.’ He adds, his voice taking on an uncertain note, ‘It’s probably going to be a while before the police can get here.’

Candice’s alarm on her mobile phone is set to go off promptly every morning at six thirty. She’s nothing if not disciplined. She is a light sleeper, however, and this morning something wakes her before the alarm sounds. She’s not sure what. She hears footsteps running along the hall below her, raised voices.

She decides she’d better get up. Plus it’s goddamn cold. She flicks the light switch of the lamp on her bedside table, but it doesn’t go on. It’s very dark in the room. She crosses the floor, shivering in bare feet, to open the curtains. She’s surprised by what she sees. Not the fluffy winter wonderland of last night – but the unleashed fury of an ice storm. Obviously the power is out. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She wonders how much battery she’s got left in her laptop. Maybe five hours, max. This is a disaster! She needs to find out when the power’s going back on. She quickly pulls on some warm clothes and heads cautiously downstairs in the dark.