by Amy Cross
"It's fine," I reply, happy at the thought of losing myself in this new job for a while. "I don't need much space. In fact, I feel like I'm kind of at a loose end, so I was wondering if you'd mind letting me shadow you this afternoon. It'd really help if I can get an idea of how you run the place -"
"Out of the question," Edward says suddenly, his voice sounding a little more strident than before. "I'm sorry, but I think it's best if we get started bright and early tomorrow morning instead. I have a very full schedule today, and I'd rather not accept the disruption that would inevitably result from having someone following me around".
"But if -"
"I'm afraid my decision is final," he continues. "Please, let's not rush things".
There's something different about Edward now, as if he's struggling to remain civil, and I'm not quite sure how to respond. Then again, maybe he's just feeling stressed about his brother's departure.
"I hope Luke's okay," I say after a moment, figuring that I should retreat to a safer subject. "It must be very hard to see him go off like that. I guess you'll -"
"You're here to manage the hotel," Edward says firmly, interrupting me, "not my family. I'd be grateful if you could focus on the former and stop worrying about my brother". He pauses for a moment. "I'm sorry, Ms. Kingston, that was a little harsh of me. I've got a lot to do, though, so please, spend the rest of the day getting to know the hotel a little better, and we'll start work properly at 8am in my office tomorrow morning".
"Totally," I reply. I'm about to ask a couple more questions, but Edward turns and walks quickly away, leaving me standing alone in the reception area. Taking a deep breath, I start going back over to the bar, before stopping at the last minute as I realize that I'm in danger of falling back into my old, bad habits. It'd be so tempting to spend the rest of the day drinking and flirting, but that kind of behavior has got her into trouble in the past, and I'm determined to turn over a new leaf.
Oh well, I tell herself, at least there's no danger of flirting with Edward Bannister. The guy's clearly got a rod up his ass.
Deciding to get started on a little homework, I walk straight past the bar and head toward my room. As I get to my door, however, I notice something small and white nestled in the carpet. Crouching down, realize that it's another discarded tooth, and this one is a little smaller than the first one. Gathering it up in a tissue, I pause for a moment as I try to work out who on earth would be losing teeth so carelessly. Finally, I get to my feet and let myself into my room. There's clearly something unusual going on at the Heights, and I can't shake the feeling that there's another world running silently in the background. Still, I guess I have to remember that this is just the first day and I'm an outsider. Sure, I haven't quite managed to hit the ground running yet, but at least I'm not drowning.
Yet.
Elizabeth
Five years ago
"That asshole!" Luke shouts, slamming his fist against the table. "What the hell does he think he's doing?"
"Calm down," Victor replies, clearly trying to defuse the situation. "You know your brother takes his work extremely seriously. It's why he's the one who's taking over. The hotel is his life -"
"And that gives him the right to be an ignorant bastard, does it?" Luke shouts. "Seriously, is he just going to ignore us for the whole weekend?"
"He says he'll join us for dinner tonight," Victor continues. "He sends his apologies regarding lunch, but there are some very important papers that need to be checked".
"Whatever," Luke says, taking a step back. He's clearly still angry, but his energy seems to have become a little more stable. "Let him be a dick. It doesn't matter to me. If he doesn't want to meet the woman I love, that's his choice. He can go fuck himself for all I care. He can sit in his office and rot!"
"Maybe we could go and drop by?" I suggest. "Couldn't we just knock on his door?"
"No!" Luke shouts. "No way! We're not going to him! He has to come to us!" He stares at me, and for the first time I realize I can see true rage in his eyes. "Promise me you won't go to introduce yourself to him," he continues. "That's what he wants. He wants to have power, but he's not going to get it. I'm not going to go crawling to him. If he can't handle seeing me happy, he can go fuck himself!"
"Please," Victor says, "you mustn't speak like this, not in front of..." He turns to me. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. My sons can be a little tempestuous from time to time, but I thought I'd raised them to mind their language in the company of a lady".
"I'm sorry," Luke adds, seemingly a little calmer. "I shouldn't let him get to me".
"It's okay," I say, walking over and putting an arm around his shoulder. "I know what it's like to have high passions within a family. I'm sure I'll meet Edward this evening, and I'm sure it'll go well. Don't get so worked up about it, okay?" I pause for a moment. "Maybe I should go and find Juliet. I promised I'd let her show me the path that leads up to the old summerhouse. We'll be back for lunch. Is that okay?"
He nods.
Leaning closer, I kiss him on the cheek before turning and walking away. Once I'm out of sight, I stop and take a deep breath, trying to stay cool. Luke's little flare-up was both fierce and sudden, and I'm starting to realize that there's some deep anger in this family. Luke's great, but I'm not sure I could ever spend too much time here at the Heights. The place is just way too tense, and I'm pretty sure I'd end up losing my mind.
Laura
Today
As the evening wears on, I find myself starting to worry more and more about the next morning. I'm supposed to report to Edward's office at 8am sharp, but I have no idea what to expect. He seems like such a disciplinarian, such a hard task-master, and I'm worried that he's already setting me up to fail. Then again, I figure I have a history of self-sabotage, so I just need to stop fretting too much and focus, instead, on my new job. At least I know I'm good at what I do.
"Everything's going to be okay," I whisper to myself as I sit cross-legged on the small bed in my tiny, narrow room. "Everything's going to be okay". It's a familiar mantra, one that I've used often at times of stress, but tonight it doesn't seem to be working too well. "Everything's going to be okay," I say again, before deciding that I need to get up and go for a walk. Anything's better than sitting here and going crazy.
After quickly checking myself in the mirror, I head out of my room and along the carpeted corridor. Glancing down, I'm relieved to see no more randomly-scattered teeth. Whoever was wandering around the hotel and shedding molars, he or she at least seems to have packed it in for the night.
When I reach reception, I make a beeline for the bar. As I get to the door, I glance inside and see that there are a few people sitting around, chatting and drinking, while the barman is busy with a bunch of orders. For a few seconds, I try to convince myself that I could be just like these people and have one relaxing drink before bed. Finally, however, I recognize the more likely outcome: I'll end up drunk, probably throwing myself at the barman, and the whole night will be a mess. I have a problem with alcohol, and more alcohol isn't the answer.
"Nope," I mutter under my breath, turning and heading over to the main door that leads out into the cool, calming night.
"Better," I say quietly as I sit on a bench. I'm determined to wait for the sunset to come, to marvel at its natural beauty, to feel at one with nature...
I wait, but none of those things happen. Glancing over at another bench, I see a woman sitting with her eyes closed, looking completely relaxed. I've always admired such people; they seem able to just switch off and enjoy the world, whereas I feel as if I'm permanently cursed to always be slightly tense and worried. I long for the day when I can just enjoy the beauty of nature and forget about my worries, but I'm not holding my breath. It always feels as if, at the back of my mind, there's a nagging feeling that something's wrong.
After a few minutes, having come to the conclusion that I'm bored and slightly cold, I give up and head back inside. Perhaps I'm just not a sunset person af
ter all. Sunsets are for laid back, romantic people, and I'm... neither of those things. Not really. No matter how hard I try, she can't keep my brain from churning and throwing up uncomfortable thoughts. Lately, it seems like I can't get away from certain bad memories, which cling to her like limpets. Sometimes, I feel as if I'll never be free. Then again, I guess memories are what makes a personality, so I can't lose those thoughts without losing something of myself as well.
Wandering along a nearby corridor, I eventually find myself in a part of the hotel that I don't recognize. Frankly, the place is a labyrinthine mess, and it seems as if successive generations have added wings here and there in various different styles without really thinking about the overall layout. Feeling as if I'm starting to get trapped in some kind of plush maze, I eventually reach what seems to be a service area, with a bunch of empty, stainless steel rooms that look as if they're usually used to prepare meals. Stopping at a junction, I look up at the ceiling and see that a large piece of plaster has come away, resulting in a piece of foam starting to fluff out through a small hole. Frankly, it looks pretty grotty, and it's exactly the kind of shoddiness that I'm determined to stamp out. This hotel needs a facelift.
Just as I'm about to turn and head back the way I came, I hear a noise coming from a little further along the corridor. Although I try to ignore it, I quickly realize that the noise is a kind of breathless grunting sound. The little devil on my shoulder immediately suggests that someone is having sex somewhere nearby, but I force myself to dismiss such a crazy idea. At times like this, I sometimes worry that I've got sex on the brain.
Then again, I can't deny that the noise is coming from somewhere.
Standing completely still, I listen as the noise continues, and eventually I start walking slowly and quietly along the corridor. Rounding the next corner, I see a glass-fronted door that seems to lead into some kind of small conference room. As I get closer to the door, I spot a hint of movement inside, and I pause for a moment, keen to make sure that no-one heard me approach. Now that I'm closer, however, it's clear that the noise was coming from someone having sex, an idea that causes me to raise an inquisitive eyebrow. In a building that contains more than a hundred bedrooms, half of which are empty, what kind of person would choose to come down and have sex in a grungy basement? Still, I guess the Heights isn't as staid and quiet as I'd imagined.
Finally, tentatively, I creep forward and peer around the edge of the door.
The first thing I see is a familiar figure, bent naked over a table. With her large, round breasts hangling from her chest and bouncing vigorously, Rachel is being taken firmly from behind by a figure who's partly hidden by shadows. The look on Rachel's face, though, is telling: she's staring straight ahead, and although her mouth is hanging open and she's letting out a series of moans, it's clear that she's just biding her time. She clearly isn't enjoying it at all; in fact, it's pretty obvious that she's just patiently waiting for the whole thing to be over.
I know I should turn and get the hell out of here, but something about the whole sad scene is so captivating. There's obviously no passion in this assignation, no closeted lust or secret love. It's as if two people have just decided to come down and use one another's bodies for a little while. In fact, the longer I watch Rachel's face, the more I realize that there's a slightly dead look in her eyes, as if she doesn't really care about what's happening. It's a look that I know only too well from the old days, and there's a part of me that wants to rush through the door and 'save' Rachel from the humiliation of letting her body be used like this. However, fearing for my job, I figure I should stay out of whatever's happening. This is none of my business.
Without any warning, and certainly without showing any sign of having finished, the man eventually stops pounding Rachel and steps back. With an air of weary resignation, Rachel walks naked over to the corner and grabs a piece of tissue paper, which she uses to give herself a quick wipe between the legs. It's such a cold, mechanical operation, and I can't help wondering why anyone would bother having sex if it didn't bring them any pleasure. For me, sex has always been about passion, even if that passion sometimes only lasted for a few minutes. For Rachel, however, it looks like sex is simply a duty, something to be rushed through and finished with in the shortest possible period of time.
Turning to look over at the other side of the room, I can make out the figure of a man still partly hidden by shadows. Naked and athletic, he, like Rachel, is cleaning himself up. There's no small-talk, no discussion about what just happened. In fact, neither of them say a word to one another as Rachel grabs a bra and finishes getting dressed.
After a moment, the man emerges from the shadows, and I see that it was Edward Bannister all along. In a way, I'm not surprised. Completely naked, he stands for a moment and watches as Rachel continues to get dressed. I can't shake the feeling that this probably isn't the first time that this pair have got together like this; in fact, the whole scene is a curious mixture of illicit affair and bored routine, with -
Suddenly Rachel glances over at the door and makes eye contact with me. We stare at one another for a fraction of a second, before I dart back, filled with panic. She wait for the sound of Rachel telling Edward that they've been observed, and for a moment I'm terrified that my new job might be over before it has even begun. All she hear, however, is the sound of the pair of them continuing to get dressed, and then finally there's a set of footsteps coming closer to the door before Rachel steps out, fully-clothed, into the corridor.
"I'm off tomorrow," she calls back to Edward, "but I'm doing double on Friday, so I guess I'll see you then".
There's a pause. When it becomes clear that Edward won't bother to reply, Rachel pulls the door shut. She glances briefly at me, before turning and walking quickly away.
"Hey!" I hiss, running after her. "I'm sorry, I swear to God, I didn't mean to be -"
"It's fine," Rachel says, walking quickly, as if she's challenging me to keep pace. "Mistakes happen. People sometimes see things they shouldn't have seen. Life goes on, and hopefully no-one gets hurt so long as people keep their mouths shut".
"I was just down here," I stammer, "and I heard a noise, and then I looked through the window and I saw -"
"It's fine!" Rachel says firmly, stopping and turning to me. "What part of that sentence is causing you a problem? So you saw something you shouldn't have? Big deal. I know exactly what you saw, so I don't need you to describe it to me, okay? Just..." She pauses, glancing along the corridor for a moment as if she's checking that no-one can hear us. "Keep it to yourself. It's not what it looks like, and it's certainly not something anyone needs to know about. Got it? People tend to gossip in a place like this".
I nod.
"In case you're wondering if Edward knows you saw us," Rachel continues, "he doesn't, and that's a good thing, okay? For the sake of both our jobs, let's keep it like that. Fucking a receptionist isn't exactly something he's proud of, so it'd be a really, really good idea for you to keep quiet. It wouldn't be just your job that'd be on the line".
"It's none of my business," I reply, slightly taken aback by the forcefulness of Rachel's words. I feel as if I'm being talked down to by a bully in the schoolyard; if anything, I'm supposed to be the senior figure here, and yet I feel that my authority is being challenged.
"I'm serious," Rachel says. "I swear to God, if you breathe a word -"
"I won't!" I tell. "I swear, I won't tell a soul!"
"The Bannisters have had enough crap over the past few years," Rachel continues. "First Elizabeth, then Luke heading off to war, now hiring -" She catches herself just in time.
"Hiring me?" I ask.
"Let's just say it wasn't a unanimous decision to bring in an outsider," Rachel explains. "Unfortunately for the others, Edward's in charge, so he got the casting vote".
"What happened to Elizabeth Bannister?" I ask, hoping to change the subject. "I've heard whispers, but -"
"Nothing happened to her," Rachel repli
es, checking once again that we aren't being overheard. "She just left, that's all. A bunch of excitable people got together and cooked up a bunch of ridiculous theories, but the truth is, Elizabeth got sick of things around here and decided to get the hell away. If you ask me, she made the right choice. Being married to a Bannister isn't exactly a walk in the park".
"But sleeping with one is okay?" I ask, before instantly regretting my choice of words. "I'm sorry, that was totally out of line".
"Wasn't it just?" Rachel replied. "Keep your head down, Ms. Kingston, and do your job. Don't go poking about in other peoples' business, and you might just last five minutes around here. Otherwise, you probably shouldn't bother hauling your crap out of your car, 'cause you'll be living in there again soon". She pauses for a moment. "We'll start over next time we meet, yeah? Pretend like none of this ever happened".
With that, she turns and walks away, leaving me standing alone, trying to work out how, exactly, I've already managed to make my first enemy at the Heights. Even by my usual standards, this has to be some kind of record.
Part Two
Blood
Prologue
Arriving just after dawn, the plumber hauled his tools out of the back of the van and dragged them around the side of the Heights Hotel. He'd been called out here before a few times, mostly to fix minor problems, but this time things were different: on this cool late-summer morning, he'd been asked to get to the bottom of the plumbing problems that had been plaguing the place for years. It was going to be a big job, and, more importantly, it was going to be a potentially very lucrative job. The Bannisters were loaded, and the hotel was ancient, so despite the early start, the plumber was very happy with the call-out.
