Chapter 25
The veranda was busy when Eve arrived. Rattan armchairs were set at round tables covered in pristine white cloths.
Waiters and waitresses bustled between them, delivering pots of tea and art deco cake stands, with loops of pearls and crystals hung gracefully from every tier.
The mountains looked like a painting in the distance and the lake was coloured blue as a sapphire by the sky above.
It was impossible not to relish the purity of the air.
Eve scanned the veranda and quickly spotted Mrs. Roth waiting at a table set for two at the end of the terrace.
As she walked over, she passed another table occupied by Jane and a little girl with blue ribbons in her hair.
She was about three years old and wore a lacy ivory dress.
Eve stared. It was her younger self, reaching for a peppermint cream, biting into it, and letting out a giggle of pure delight.
Eve returned Jane’s wave before continuing to the other table.
The free chair was positioned so that it looked back the way she had come, giving her a good view of Jane and the back of little Eve’s head.
She tried to keep her attention fixed on her companion as she pulled the chair out and sat down.
The table was set with a lavender-grey tea set, identical to the one Eve owned except for the fact that it was in pristine condition.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “I became a bit caught up in the scavenger hunt.”
“Never mind,” Mrs. Roth replied. “You’re here now.”
She was wearing a long-sleeved dress in mulberry purple with a lace jabot and matching gloves.
She looked frail and a little hunched, shifting about where she sat.
Eve briefly wondered whether she should offer to fetch her some extra cushions or a blanket or something.
How did this woman fit into the Roth family tree?
Could she possibly have been Nikolas Roth’s wife?
She seemed about the right age, but hadn’t Anna said they’d lost both their parents recently?
When she asked, the old woman said, “It’s a little hard to keep track of the Roths sometimes, I imagine.
There’s rather a lot of us, these days.”
“But you did know Nikolas Roth?” Eve pressed.
The old woman nodded slowly. “Yes,” she said. “I knew him.”
“He’s a bit of an enigma in my time period,” Eve said. “Because he was so possessive and secretive about his art, I mean.”
Eve looked at Mrs. Roth expectantly, but she only gazed back.
“Do you know why he was like that?” Eve asked directly. “Why he refused to sell his paintings or even exhibit them outside the hotel?”
Mrs. Roth remained silent once again, and for a moment, Eve wondered whether she had even heard her.
Perhaps she wasn’t all there, mentally. She was extremely old, after all.
But then she said in a quiet, thin voice, “Yes. I know why Nikolas was protective of his paintings. It was because of the secret.”
“Secret?” Eve’s interest was piqued by the word and she leaned forwards slightly. “What secret?”
Mrs. Roth shook her head. “It isn’t mine to tell.
I promised I would never breathe it to any living soul.
” She cleared her throat and went on in a stronger voice.
“Anyway, I don’t wish to talk about Nikolas Roth.
We should discuss his children instead. I understand you’ve already met Harry, the oldest of the three.
And his sister, Anna—she’s the youngest. How about Tristan? ”
“Tristan?”
“The middle brother. He’s the resident librarian. And he takes care of the clocks.”
“I don’t think I’ve met him,” Eve replied, confused by the line of conversation.
It occurred to her that Tristan might be a useful person to seek out, though.
If he wound the clocks, then he’d know where they all were.
“Why did Nikolas Roth leave the hotel to Anna if she’s the youngest? ” she asked. “And a woman too.”
“Who can say?” Mrs. Roth rapidly blinked her watery eyes. “But I imagine he thought that Anna understands the hotel the best. Ah, I see Nan can’t resist making a monkey of herself, as usual.”
Eve twisted in her chair to see the little girl peering through the ironwork at them. The next second, she’d vanished with a giggle.
“She’ll get a spanking if Anna catches her,” Mrs. Roth remarked, but her tone was an indulgent one.
The next moment, Nan popped up again a little further down the railings, peering up at Jane and giving her an enthusiastic wave.
Jane smiled at her and waved back. Then Nan leaned up to three-year-old Eve and whispered something that made her giggle.
Nan’s hand shot through the bars and deposited something on Eve’s lap.
Adult Eve couldn’t make out what it was—perhaps a peppermint cream pinched from one of the other tables.
The next second, Nan had scampered away.
“Good afternoon, ladies. May I serve tea?”
A smiling waitress appeared beside them, a silver tray in her hands. She was in her early thirties and had the same auburn hair as Nan.
“Thank you, Liesl,” Mrs. Roth replied.
She poured them each a cup, then placed the teapot in the middle of the table and said she’d shortly be back with their food.
Mrs. Roth nodded after her and said, “Liesl’s another one of the family. Tristan’s wife. A nice girl. Do try the tea.”
Eve looked down and was surprised to see the liquid was an inky black colour.
“The hotel’s own blend,” Mrs. Roth told her. She raised the cup with slightly shaking hands to take a sip. “So, have you been enjoying your stay? And the hunt, of course?”
“Very much. The hotel is remarkable.”
“Yes, the White Octopus is a very special place. It’s not for everyone, but I’ve always been happy here. Happier than I would once have thought possible.”
“Have you lived here a long time?”
“About forty-five years now.”
“You must know so much about the place,” Eve prompted. She didn’t have time to take tea with old women unless doing so unearthed useful information for the scavenger hunt.
“I expect I know one or two of its secrets by now,” Mrs. Roth agreed.
“Including where to find a sheet of writing paper?”
“It’s almost all gone, I’m afraid.” Mrs. Roth reached for her teacup again.
Her hands really were trembling quite badly, and Eve tried not to wince at the thought that she might spill the scalding-hot tea all down herself.
“You’re not the only guest with something in their past they wish to change,” the old woman went on.
“Anna has the last sheet locked away in a drawer.”
“So it could be the prize? For the scavenger hunt?”
Mrs. Roth regarded her for a moment. “It could,” she agreed. “If that’s what you truly want. My advice would be to seek a different treasure, however.”
“Why’s that?”
“What’s done is done. No one should live in the past.”
Liesl returned just then to set their cake plate on the table.
Between the loops of pearls and crystals were the most extraordinary sugar sculptures.
There were octopuses like the one Eve had received upon arrival, but there were also shoals of fish, delicate fronds of seaweed, turtles with lacelike shells, and sparkling white jellyfish.
“Here we have smoked salmon sandwiches,” Liesl said, indicating the bottom tier. “And on the other two we have a selection of pastries and some of Mila’s sugar creatures.”
“They’re almost too beautiful to eat,” Eve said once Liesl had gone.
Beyond Mrs. Roth’s shoulder, she could see her younger self showed no such concerns and was eagerly piling the sugar animals onto her plate.
“Mila is very talented,” Mrs. Roth said. “She’s the hotel’s sugar artist, you know.”
Eve remembered Alfie telling her that his mother was the sugar artist, back when she’d first arrived in Room 27. He’d also said that his father was a mixologist, so she guessed that meant Mila must be married to Harry.
“But enough about our family,” Mrs. Roth said. “Tell me about yourself and where you’re from.”
Eve gave a brief account. Already, she was starting to wish she hadn’t agreed to this. Mrs. Roth had told her nothing about the hotel she didn’t already know, and time was wasting.
“And how did you first hear of the White Octopus?” Mrs. Roth asked, selecting a lemon tart topped with a sugar seal.
Eve’s eyes slid towards Jane, who was now wearing a nervous expression as she watched her daughter munch through the final cake.
“My mother brought me.” Eve looked back at Mrs. Roth. “When I was small.”
“Ah.” Mrs. Roth dabbed at her watery eyes with her napkin, then folded it neatly upon the table. “And are you close, the two of you?”
Eve shook her head. “Not really. I…ruined her life, I think. That’s why I need the writing paper. To put it right.”
At the other table, she was aware that little Eve was getting progressively more upset about something. Jane was trying to shush her, but this only made things worse until the girl finally erupted into a shout that echoed around the restaurant. “I WANT CAKE!”
“Don’t shout!” Jane hissed, looking mortified as a sudden quiet fell around the room. “There is no more cake, you’ve eaten it all! Now it’s time to go home, back to Daddy.”
“No!” the girl wailed. Jane had risen to her feet, but her daughter was gripping the table like her life depended on it. “I don’t want to go! Five more minutes!”
“Eve, please!” Jane grabbed her hand and pulled her down from the chair. “Just once can’t we leave somewhere without tears and tantrums?”
There was an edge of pure exhaustion in her voice, and at the next table, adult Eve felt a horrible flush of guilt.
She stared at her younger self, willing her to do as Jane asked and leave nicely, but instead the girl snatched a teacup from the table and hurled it to the floor, where it smashed into dozens of pieces.
For a moment, Jane looked as if she might slap Eve, but then her face crumpled, and she was blinking back tears instead.