The other thing that initially didn’t have the impact it should have done was a scream. It was Elspeth. No longer sitting alone, Princess Perfect had joined her, a smile on her perfectly sculpted face as Elspeth continued to struggle, not screaming anymore but choking… she was definitely choking.
Chapter Five
The blonde with the fuller figure was the first to reach Elspeth.
“Oh, honey,” she was saying, doing her utmost to sound in control rather than panicked, “you’re alright, we’re here to help you. Just cough it up, that’s it, honey, cough it up now.”
She and David as well as the balding man had also reached the redhead’s side. A couple of waiters flew across too but it was as if they hovered in the background, waiting for the guests to do something about it instead. Around her all chatter ceased.
“What is it?” David addressed his question to Princess Perfect. “Why is she choking?”
“I told her to look out for bones,” the young woman replied. She had the same air of boredom as Raquel. “The fish is full of them.”
“Bones?” Caroline queried. She’d had the salmon too and it was filleted perfectly. “Is there a doctor in the house?” Quickly she raised her voice, looking at those still sitting in silence, some of whom had turned their heads away pretending they hadn’t heard her, not wanting to get involved, to have their night ruined. “Is one of you a doctor?”
She thought she saw David about to respond but, if he was going to speak, the balding man beat him to it. “I know the Heimlich manoeuver, I could try that?”
“I… erm?” Caroline looked at David, who nodded his head.
“Go ahead,” he instructed.
Elspeth was continuing to choke, her face almost as red as her hair, her eyes – they were blue, and pale, almost milky – bulging. Beside her, the woman that David had dubbed Princess Perfect, continued to look bored. Caroline wanted to grab her by the throat, to shake some concern into her. How could she do that, remain so cold when a woman was in distress, a woman who was sitting right beside her? And how come she was sitting right beside her? Did they know each other after all? Only briefly did she glance towards the elderly woman, Althea – the woman who took care of this place – wondering what her response to the scene unfolding in front of her would be. Sitting with her hands folded together, her lips pursed – she looked… horrified.
Caroline turned back to the balding man. “I… erm… think you’d better hurry.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” he replied, almost as agitated as Elspeth.
Positioning himself behind her, he folded his arms around her torso, just below her breasts, and, with one sharp movement, thrust upwards. All waited patiently – no one daring to breathe whilst one of their party wasn’t able to.
Nothing happened. Elspeth continued to choke, tears running down her face.
Come on! Come on! Caroline willed the man to succeed. He had to succeed. It was as simple as that. Again her mind turned to the fish that was ‘full of bones’. Could one rogue bone left in Elspeth’s dish really have caused this? It was just so… dramatic.
The balding man, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead, tried a second time. He was shaking again, Caroline noticed, terrified of failure or rather the consequences of failure. To be honest, so was she. Again she found herself urging him towards success. Elspeth’s life was in his hands – literally. As for her hands, one was clinging onto David’s arm, and not gently either. No matter that she barely knew him, she needed his support.
Success!
Thank God!
Elspeth choked again, regurgitated almost, a ragged sound, as painful to hear as it must be to experience. Something flew from her mouth, barely caught by the naked eye, thin and silvery white, landing back on her plate ironically, to lie beside the offending fish.
His job done, the balding man stepped back, shaking as much as ever, and the concerned woman took over, hugging Elspeth to her ample bosom, stroking her hair, petting her, soothing her with a barrage of kind words. All the while Elspeth clung to her, trembling violently too, sweat having caused some of her curls to hang limply.
Caroline released David at last and he glanced at her, as relieved as she was, before holding out his hand to the balding man, who perhaps was the most relieved of all.
“Well done,” David exclaimed, cupping his hand with both of his and shaking it enthusiastically. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“High school.” The man didn’t smile as he said it, instead he looked weighed down again, any relief owing to his success short-lived.
David nodded, introduced himself.
“I’m John Cole,” said the man in return.
Finally letting go of his hand, David turned to Elspeth instead. “Are you okay? Would you like a glass of water?”
“Wine,” she croaked. “Pass me the wine.”
He did so and she gulped down several mouthfuls, the red liquid sloshing against her lips and her hand reaching up to wipe roughly at them.
“I’m Marilyn Hollick.” The woman still holding Elspeth introduced herself.
“Hi, Marilyn,” both David and Caroline said in unison, after which Caroline fixed her gaze on Princess Perfect. “What’s your name?” she asked, a note of steel in her voice.
The young woman with hair the colour of ice and features that looked as if they’d been hewn from ice too, stood up – the scraping of her chair as grating as the scrape of fingernails on a chalkboard. “I’m Tallula,” she announced. And with that, she flounced out of the ballroom, leaving those around her to stare in open-mouthed amazement.
* * *
Despite meals being only half finished, the ballroom started to empty, people’s evenings blighted by what had just happened, the atmosphere no longer mellow but strained. Caroline couldn’t help but be disappointed; she had been looking forward to a longer evening, not one that would come to such an abrupt end. Halfway through her meal too, as David was with his, their dishes looked less appealing than before. Caroline picked apart the remainder of her salmon, but was unable to find any bones lurking within its pink folds. Finally, the pair of them admitted defeat, pushing their dishes to one side.
After Tallula’s departure, Althea had risen too, summoning the woman who was clearly her assistant and, once again, drifting from the room – a movement that was elegant for such an old lady, no hobbling, no bent back, no fits and starts – her dexterity was admirable. That she hadn’t got involved during the choking fit surprised Caroline. Perhaps she could see that John knew what he was doing, and that’s why she’d refrained.
Elspeth had continued to need comforting and, perhaps because of the wine that she continued to knock back, she’d started to ramble, her lips moving rapidly as she professed how afraid she’d been that she was going to choke to death, that she didn’t want to die, that the thought of death was terrifying. ‘What’s out there’, she kept saying, ‘surely it terrifies you too?’ Having abandoned their food, David, John, and Caroline had all congregated again around her table, doing their utmost to placate her but it was Marilyn who had the most success. What’s more, Marilyn seemed pleased to have someone to fuss over, showing signs of frustration whenever anyone took over or interrupted her efforts. Although John still hovered, David and Caroline realised this, made their excuses, and left, David summoning a waiter to ask if they could have their coffee in the lobby instead.
There were still a few people milling about and Raquel – the tireless Raquel – was behind the desk, her eyes downwards as she flicked through something – a magazine or a book? Maybe even the guest register. Caroline and David were the only ones to take a seat in the lobby, after she had crossed over to one of the windows and pulled the net curtain aside, noticing as she did a tear in it that needed mending. As she expected, the snow was piling higher and higher, her car resembling a small hillock; one of two.
David came up behind her. “My car’s the one next to yours.”
“How do you kn
ow it’s mine?”
“If you arrived in a panic like I did, you wouldn’t have bothered going to the lot.”
She smiled. “Well deduced.”
“Coffee’s here,” he continued.
Turning around, she saw he was right yet again. The coffee had been placed on the table in front of the piano. There was no sign of the waiter who’d brought it.
“Shame there’s no one to tickle the ivories,” she said, nodding at the piano as she sat.
“I’ll give it a go later, if you want?”
“You can play?”
“Chopsticks.”
She pulled a face. “Everyone can play Chopsticks.”
“Can you?”
“Even me.”
“Hey, we can play a duet, liven up this joint.”
“I forgot to mention something.”
“What?”
“I can play it, but badly.”
He sighed. “Dammit, I forgot to mention that too.”
She looked around her. Just as the ballroom had emptied, so had the lobby, apart from Raquel that is, disappearing into the office behind her once or twice before settling back at the desk. “This place could certainly do with a bit of livening up, I agree.”
David, however, backtracked. “Actually, I kinda like how it is.”
“So Tom was right then.”
“The guy who carried my one bag to my room and expected five bucks for it?”
“The very same. He said not everyone wants to be in the thick of it.”
“Well, three cheers for Tom. And really, it could be so much worse.”
“How?”
“We could be stranded along with a busload of tourists, sightseers from Nebraska or something.”
She frowned. “What’s wrong with people from Nebraska?”
“You haven’t heard?”
“No.”
“Oh, they’re a crazy bunch, the Nebraskans. You gotta look out for ’em.”
Again he was teasing her, but she was enjoying it, enjoying his company full stop.
“So Caroline from England, how long are you here for?”
“I’ve got another week to go, plenty of time for the skies to clear.”
“Yeah, plenty of time, I’m sure. As someone who has American heritage, have you never been tempted to move here, give the good old US of A a go?”
“I’m happy in London. But… I do like it here, very much. Never say never, I guess.”
“That tends to be my mantra too.”
“You haven’t actually told me, where are you from? What state?”
“This one, but closer to Pittsburgh.”
Mentally she tried to calculate. “So, if Pittsburgh’s to the west and we’re next to Philadelphia, in the east, that’s a fair distance you’ve travelled.”
“Correct, nearly 200 miles.”
“And all in the name of sales.”
“What can I say, I’m a martyr to the cause.”
“You married, got any kids?”
For a second David didn’t answer, instead he held her gaze, stared steadily at her. She wanted to close her eyes, hide, wished for the ground to open up and swallow her. Why had she got so personal so quickly? What business was it of hers anyway? Damn it, her cheeks were burning again, as red as Elspeth’s hair, she was sure of it. “I’m sorry… I—”
“No,” he answered, interrupting her. “I’m not married. Are you?”
She shook her head, embarrassment rendering her tongue-tied.
“Good,” he said, his expression serious instead of amused. “I’m glad.”
She had to change the subject; she’d burst into flames at this rate. Abruptly she turned her head to the side and pointed. “I noticed some interesting pictures on the wall earlier, photos of the hotel I think, in its glory days. Shall we… erm… go and take a look?”
David nodded in agreement, amusement creeping back in as he realised how mortified she was, but it was a sweet amusement, she couldn’t deny it. So far she’d sensed nothing but sweetness in this man and that realisation made her smile too. I’m glad, he’d said, regarding her single status. She’d never been so glad either. She bit down on that smile, did her level best to stop it turning into a grin as wide as the state of Pennsylvania itself.
Together they rose and made their way over to where she’d pointed, to the far left of the lobby desk. Black and white photos of The Egress were indeed adorning the wall, a few framed prints too, of more generic subjects: a vase of flowers, a green valley with a river running through it. But none could hold their interest as much as the old photographs.
The Egress in its glory days, that’s what she’d said, and it was an apt description.
One photo was of the lobby – no carpet on the floor this time but a series of intricate tiles instead, adjoining squares with black diamonds at intervals. Was it still there, she wondered, beneath their feet? Would it ever be revealed again? The chandeliers gleamed in the picture, the furniture no doubt brand new plus there was plenty more of it; armchairs dotted around, and tables with Grecian-style urns that sat proudly on top, home to dramatic plants whose green fronds soared upwards. Grand. It was so very grand. There was a black and white depiction of the ballroom too, the tables set up very much as they were now, the same configuration, each table boasting a resplendent vase of flowers in the middle. There’d been a posy on their table too, but it was just that – a posy, comprising a small spray of carnations, and some baby’s breath. Another photo showed the lobby desk with billboards standing either side of it – the print was too small to read properly, but she assumed they were welcoming boards. Behind the desk was a wall clock, a fancy timepiece with an ornate wood surround. She looked towards the desk. Was it still there, she couldn’t remember? The answer was no. It was gone, the wall bare.
“Weird,” murmured David.
“What is?” she asked, studying his profile as he leant in towards one of the pictures. He was handsome, she decided, his personality a contributing factor.
“All these photos, there’s no one in them. Have you noticed?”
“Actually, no, it hadn’t registered, but now that you point it out…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at the rest of the pictures in the gallery, including a poster celebrating its 75th year birthday with the title: The hotel that never grows old is 75 years new! There was a drawing, rather than a photo, of the hotel’s exterior with the years 1922-1997 emblazoned proudly across it and yet more pictures: a close up of the entrance; two fancy cars from an earlier era parked outside it; a bedroom shot – one with slightly more opulent fixtures and fittings than the bedroom she occupied, a corner suite perhaps; and a ballroom and lobby shot, similar to those she’d already seen. There was also an earlier construction shot, a building that was part demolished – the one that had made way for The Egress.
“I wonder what that building was?” Caroline mused.
David glanced her way, looked thoughtful too.
The poster was advertising an event, a celebration dinner in the ballroom – perhaps that’s why the ballroom had been laid out so beautifully, in preparation for such an event. But again, it would have been more enticing if there had been at least a few people in the shot, the staff perhaps, smartly uniformed, guests relaxing with a drink, smiles on their faces.
“You’d think that a hotel such as this, when it first opened, might have attracted some people of note,” Caroline mused. “Okay, maybe not A-listers, but town planners, the mayor, you do have mayors in America, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh, we certainly do.
“Normally hotels like to boast about stuff like that, don’t they? There’s certainly no boasting going on here.”
“You know what, one of the problems could in fact be its location. There’s peaceful and there’s the middle of nowhere. As far as most people are concerned, even the main town of Williamsfield isn’t on the map.”
“And yet here we are.”
“Here we are indeed.”
He burst out laughing, surprising her at first, until she realised what she’d said. “Oh my God!” One hand flew to her mouth. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything.”
“You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!” she replied, feigning indignation but unable to suppress her amusement too. “It was said in all innocence, honestly.”
“Dammit, and here was I thinking my charm and good looks had pulled off something truly spectacular.” He shook his head, refrained from teasing her anymore. “You’re right though, it’s been a hell of a day. I’m bushed.”
Falling into step beside him, they made their way to the elevator, Caroline bidding Raquel goodnight, who in turn barely lifted her head to murmur the same.
Entering the elevator, Caroline sighed. “This thing, it takes forever to get to eleven.”
“You’re on eleven?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, didn’t I say? The top floor.”
“Oh, right.”
“What is it? You seem surprised.”
“No, no, not really. I’m on three.”
Something she already knew, thanks to her earlier loitering. “I hope it’s not too noisy, apparently there’s a lot of renovation going on.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed. Would you like me to see you to your room?”
She couldn’t help it, she snorted. “Are you being serious?”
He held his hands up. “No ulterior motive in mind, I’m just being a gentleman.”
“A gentleman? Well, it’s very kind of you, but I’m a big girl now, I can find my own way.”
“Ah, Miss Independent?”
“I like to think so.”
“And I like to think I’m a gentleman. I’ll ride with you to eleven first and then I’ll go back down. I wonder how Elspeth is,” he added, leaning in to select the relevant floors.
The Eleventh Floor Page 5
