Chapter 26
The Darlington in Crisis Again: Is This the End of the Venerable Luxury Hotel?
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Ethan
I missed Grace. I’d only been in Cambridge visiting James for a couple of days, but she’d been on my mind the whole time, and I could hardly wait to see her again in just a moment.
It was a completely new feeling for me. I’d always liked the women I slept with, but my affection had only ever skimmed the surface, whereas what I felt for Grace went much deeper.
It had taken hold of me, touching my heart in a way I hadn’t seen coming. If I was honest, it scared me.
“Hey!”
I turned to see Grace hurrying towards me.
She was wearing a dark-red jacket over a light jumper, an olive-green skirt, and tights.
Her blond hair cascaded over her shoulders.
She looked beautiful, as always, and a smile spread automatically across my face.
When Grace stopped beside me and smiled back, I leant forward without thinking and kissed her lips.
She hesitated. “Since when do we kiss in public?”
“Does it bother you?”
“No, but maybe it should bother you.” She glanced around warily.
We were standing on Old Brompton Road in front of the Molly Rose Bakery, which Grace had told me was her favourite café.
I’d suggested we meet there on her day off.
“Do I have to remind you what a big deal the press made when they found out Henry was cavorting with a hotel employee?”
“Maybe, but perhaps I should remind you that I’m not Henry—and a headline about me cavorting with you would probably be a positive change.” The press had written far worse, and far more scandalous, things about me, most of which weren’t even true.
Grace tilted her head. “Fair point.”
I laughed and kissed her again, this time more deeply. I just couldn’t get enough of her.
We stepped inside together. The bakery was small and cosy.
A long counter displayed all kinds of treats, and there were a few tables scattered around the room.
In the back, a glass partition offered a view into the kitchen.
The air smelled wonderfully of sweet pastries and freshly roasted coffee beans.
Grace opted for a brownie, while I chose a slice of cake.
We both ordered tea and sat down at the last free table, right by the glass partition.
“How was Cambridge?” Grace asked.
“It was nice spending more time with James again. I miss him,” I admitted. “We shared a room back at boarding school, and we were pretty much inseparable. Seeing him only every few weeks has been an adjustment.”
“Why didn’t you go to Cambridge with him, and study there?”
“I didn’t want to leave London. I really missed it here when I was away at school. And Cambridge might be pretty, but it’s far too small for me. There’s not enough going on, and not much diversity.”
“I get it.”
“You were born and raised here too, right?”
“Yeah, my family has lived in London for four generations.”
“Have you ever considered moving away?”
She shook her head. “No. Things are a bit tense with my parents at the moment, but I can’t imagine leaving my family behind.
Even though I do sometimes wish for a bit more space.
Our flat was cramped enough before Amy’s death, but now it feels as if her absence fills up every inch of it.
Maybe it’s time I move out. But I need to find something affordable first.”
“Let me know if you need help with that.”
“I doubt the flats you could find me would be in my budget, but thanks for the offer. I might get back to you when I need someone to help me lug moving boxes.”
“I’d pay for a moving company,” I said, which made her laugh out loud. I meant it, though. I’d never helped anyone move boxes myself, and I had no intention of starting now.
The woman behind the counter brought our order over, setting two cups and plates in front of us.
Grace immediately picked up her fork and took a bite of her brownie. She closed her eyes and moaned with delight, which made me think things I probably shouldn’t in public.
“I love these brownies,” she said.
“And I love the sound you make when you eat them. You sound a bit like that when you come.”
Grace opened her eyes, shocked, and checked whether anyone had overheard. When she turned back to me, her cheeks had flushed the most adorable shade of red. “You can’t say things like that in public!”
I reached for her hand across the table, raised it to my lips, and kissed her knuckles. “Why not? It’s the truth.”
“Maybe, but some thoughts are best left unspoken.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I stroked the back of her hand gently with my thumb and felt her shiver at my touch.
Grace shook her head incredulously, though I saw the corners of her mouth twitch. She made sure not to make a sound when she took her next bite.
I started on my cake and asked about her weekend.
She told me about her film night with Kate and their friend Rose, who worked as a kitchen assistant at Darlington Dining.
She went on to tell me that the news of Henry’s addiction had changed the atmosphere at The Darlington.
Many of the staff were struggling to process it.
Like me, they’d seen Henry as a rock they could rely on, but their trust was now crumbling under the weight of their concern for his mental and physical well-being.
I hoped they would soon realise that Henry still had everything under control.
The Vitalyn had never made him any less competent, after all.
“I have an interesting update from my visit to the hospital on Friday,” Grace said, excitement flickering in her eyes. I could tell she’d been waiting for the right moment to tell me since we’d sat down.
“Go on.”
“I don’t know if I ever mentioned it, but Amy’s boyfriend, Garrett, works at St. Thomas’ Hospital, where she was taken after the accident.
I asked him to show me her medical file, just to see if there was anything in it that might give us a clue.
But guess what? Her file was gone. Garrett said it was probably just an issue with the system, but I think our killer had it deleted. ”
“Fuck,” I murmured. Whoever was behind the accident had gone to great lengths to erase every trace of their involvement.
Some days, I was tempted to confront my dad.
He knew who was responsible for Amy’s death, though I doubted he’d ever tell me.
Maybe if we were closer, things would be different.
But we weren’t. “How is that an interesting update?”
“It’s not. But after we discovered the files were gone, Garrett told me that a friend of his was the first paramedic on the scene. So I spoke to him, and he told me he saw a broken Spirit of Ecstasy on the road. You know, that bonnet ornament on the front of Rolls-Royces.”
“Amy was run over by a Rolls-Royce?” This really was an intriguing update.
Grace nodded, excited. “So we just have to find out which of the suspects on our list owns—or recently owned—a Rolls-Royce. I just don’t know how. We can’t exactly break into their garages. Do you have an idea? You know these people, after all.”
That was true, but apart from James’s dad, these people were still practically strangers to me.
They were my parents’ friends, not mine.
I usually only ran into them briefly at events my parents or Henry dragged me to, and we’d exchange a few pleasantries at most. I could hardly just turn up at their homes and quiz them about their cars.
Not least because the culprit would presumably be smart enough to lie to me.
I had an idea. “What about hiring a private detective?”
Grace looked puzzled, so I explained: “Henry works with one. Edgar Hawthorne. He’s keeping an eye on Randell for him. I’m sure it would be easy for him to find out which cars our suspects drive.”
“Wouldn’t that be quite expensive?”
“I could pay Edgar,” I offered, but Grace was already shaking her head before I’d even finished speaking.
“Absolutely not! I don’t want you spending your money on me.”
“I don’t mind,” I said. “Besides, I wouldn’t strictly speaking be spending my money on you. I’d be paying Edgar, and I’d be doing it for Amy and to save us time.”
Grace didn’t seem convinced by my arguments, though it was clear she liked the idea in general. She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Maybe the collection money I got from Rakesh and the others will be enough to pay him. And I still have some savings.”
I wouldn’t let Grace touch her hard-earned money when I had access to my dad’s fortune through my credit cards. My dad, who was ruthlessly protecting the culprit. Still, I nodded to keep things moving. “So . . . we’ll hire Edgar?”
Grace looked determined. “Yes. The sooner the person guilty of Amy’s death is behind bars, the better.”