The Club(24)

There were those who found it a bit convenient, that fire. There were those – Private Eye’s Piloti amongst them – who found Ned’s plans for how he intended to rebuild the club just as horrifying.

There were many who found Ned’s attitude to the natural and architectural heritage of Boucher’s Island equally vandalistic. The Victorian rookery bulldozed. Acres of woodland cleared for cabins. Natural habitats destroyed. Noise pollution. Light pollution. And even those who worked for him found his methods questionable. A year on from the opening of Island Home, there are still local contractors – plumbers, builders, electricians – who claim not to have received payment. As terrible events on the island were unfolding that Sunday, former employees had begun posting on social media under the hashtag #HomeTruths about behaviour they’d witnessed or had been subjected to. The rages. The rants. The bullying. At least one person, identifying themselves on Twitter as a former member of the front of house team at Manhattan Home, claimed that in light of Ned’s temper and the way they had seen him behave, they had always suspected he was going to end up killing someone, one of these days.

Then came the news that Ned Groom had disappeared.





Chapter Three


Friday Morning


Nikki


When she set off, the 6 a.m. light was a hazy pink, purple and gold, like a bruise spreading slowly upwards across the sky. This was always her favourite hour, before her phone started pinging and the to-do list gobbled up all her attention. On waking, Nikki – a naturally early riser further conditioned by a boss who averaged four hours’ sleep a night – had, as usual, pulled on her running stuff and headed straight out for a brisk circuit of the island’s sandy six-mile circumference. Normally this was the hour that set her up to deal with the other twenty-three. Normally – with the wind whistling in her ears, the running trails almost entirely to herself – this was when the shape of the day ahead came into focus for her, the time when, as her feet pounded away below her and the bushes blurred past, her brain began numbering and ordering the tasks ahead, the things that should be avoided or must not be forgotten. This morning, instead of feeling sharper, she still felt foggy and dazed, as if she had sucked in the morning mist and it was now billowing inside her head.

The cabins were illuminated by the warm glow of their porch lights, a look that was intended to be cosy and quaint, but today felt eerie and uninviting, especially with most of them still unoccupied. For the past few weeks, the team had been running the whole operation as if at full capacity to make sure that when guests checked in, Island Home was a well-oiled machine. This time of the morning – when the only members awake would be those who had never gone to bed – was when all the invisible activity happened. The people who made things work – the ant farm of porters and cleaners and maids and prep chefs – criss-crossing the paths. Passing the staff block, she spotted a nervous-looking new recruit hovering at the door – and judging by her lack of apron and the phone in her hand, quite a senior one at that.

‘I’m guessing you’re Jess – I’m Nikki, Ned’s PA. Lovely to meet you. I hear you got drafted in to babysit last night,’ she said apologetically, still jogging lightly on the spot. ‘I’m sorry – if I’d known that was Annie’s plan, I’d have tried to step in. You must be exhausted.’

‘Oh, don’t worry, I wouldn’t have slept well anyway, never do.’ Jess gave a nervous laugh, then her eyebrows knitted as if she’d said something she shouldn’t have. ‘Sorry, you didn’t need to know that.’

‘I had a terrible night’s sleep too, if that’s any consolation. Look, if you need anything – have any questions – try to come to me. It’s best not to distract Ned or Adam this weekend. The same with Annie – she’s got a lot on her plate, so don’t worry if you find her a bit brusque and snappy. You can imagine what it’s like. I’ve really only got one person to organize on a weekend like this. Annie’s got to run around after hundreds! I don’t know how she does it.’ Nor do I quite get why she wants to, Nikki added in her head.

Then again, being parachuted in as Head of Housekeeping on an opening weekend must be pretty terrifying too.

Once upon a time, Nikki might have gently tried to offer Jess a few pointers to help these first few days run a little smoother. Who to ask about this. Who to avoid asking about that. She did not tend to bother any more. After all, in the end, it made no difference really – you either intuited how all of this worked pretty quickly or you were out within the month. Or sooner, if you managed to attract Ned’s attention in the wrong way somehow.

‘Thank you, I appreciate the offer, that’s really kind.’ Jess smiled. Nikki noticed her hands were shaking from the cold. ‘But I know what I’m here to do and there’s nothing like being thrown in at the deep end. Oh look, here’s my lift!’ She pointed at the housekeeping van that had just pulled up. ‘I’m shadowing a couple of my girls this morning – there’s so much I still need to find out about this place!’

Sweet girl, thought Nikki, as the van drove away, and mentally wished Jess luck.

She was probably going to last about five minutes.

A bit delayed by the encounter, Nikki sprinted the last hundred metres to Island Home’s spa, arriving dripping sweat and hammering on the vast oak door to alert a bleary-eyed therapist to her presence. As a breather before the island became overrun with members, Ned had suggested Nikki take some time off this morning for a spa treatment – she’d selected an IV vitamin drip in the hope it would help power her through the day.