Hunting for Silence

32. A Beautiful Bowl of Carrots

Ella spent the next half hour on the toilet, while I spent the time inconspicuously carrying a soiled mattress out of a busy hotel in the middle of the busiest season. Oh, the joys of a holiday at the seaside!

Next, I went to have a little chat with the hotel manager. A maid was kind enough to point me in the direction of his office. Following her instructions, I soon stood before mahogany double doors with a golden door knocker. I raised my hand and knocked.

'Come in,' came a man's voice from beyond.

I pushed open the door and entered an opulent room full of plush leather armchairs, bookshelves filled with old books, and paintings in golden frames. A year or two ago, such opulent surroundings might have intimidated me. Now, I knew what real wealth and power looked like. Striding past all the pretentious opulence, I planted myself in front of the manager's desk and gazed down at him.

'We have things to discuss.'

'Ah.' He swallowed nervously. 'Miss Linton. Your sister's ailment...it is serious, then?'

'Yes.'

'Oh. I, um...should I...well...'

It was almost amusing, watching him squirm while he tried to think of a diplomatic way to ask whether we had to be put under quarantine. Under normal circumstances, I had no doubt Ella and I would already be out in the street, far away from any other hotel guests we might infect—never mind he didn't even know yet what sickness we were dealing with, and whether it was contagious. Fear was contagious, and fear would have been enough.

Except, in this case, there was something more frightening than some unnamed sickness.

'I spoke to Mr Ambrose last night,' I told him.

The manager's face lost quite a bit of colour.

'Y-you did?'

'Yes. He told me how adequate your services in support of me and my family have been thus far.'

The manager managed a tremulous little smile.

'Adequate. How wonderful.'

'He also said he would be...displeased were you to waver in your helpful attitude.'

'I see.' The manager cleared his throat. 'Um, Miss Linton?'

'Yes?'

'May I ask what kind of sickness your sister has contracted?'

I gave him a long, hard look.

'Helpful, remember? Not nosy.'

'Yes, Miss! Certainly, Miss.'

'Let's just say that for the time being, it would be best if your personal did not enter the top floor of the hotel. Tell them that my sister is recuperating from a nervous breakdown and must under no circumstances be disturbed.'

'Yes, Miss.'

'Have the staff leave meals in front of the door and knock. From time to time, I might send down lists of items I need. I expect deliveries to be made promptly and completely. Do we understand each other?'

Defeated, he inclined his head.

'Yes, Miss.'

'The first item I require is a fresh mattress.'

'A...mattress, Miss?'

'Yes.

'Of course, Miss. Straight away, Miss.'

My heart pounding, I turned and marched out of the room. Only when I was outside, I sank against the wall, trembling.

It had worked! He'd actually let us stay. Through sheer determination and a pinch of Rikkard Ambrose, it had worked! Slowly, a grim smile spread across my face.