Chapter 24

24

Grabbing my phone wasn’t some automatic millennial addictive response. I needed to set an alarm to ensure I got up before my parents, which on a Tuesday morning in March would be somewhere around five-thirty. After all, the Weighbridge Walkers would be setting off with the sunrise, and a whole lot of eggs needed cracking and sausages needed sizzling before then.

     Unfortunately, due to my disturbed emotional state when setting my alarm before collapsing on the biggest sofa in the lounge room, I failed to actually switch the alarm on.

     Fortunately, Grandma was up, about and on the prowl well before her son, and while being woken up to find her wrinkled, bloodshot eyes an inch from my own was not the best start to the day, it beat a poke with an umbrella or a lecture from my mother, so I forgave her even before she’d made me a coffee.

     By the time my parents emerged, I was showered, changed and already sprinkling the first pot of porridge with cinnamon and brown sugar.

     Daniel and Hope arrived towards the end of the breakfast sitting. I left my apron in the kitchen and went to join them with a platter of eggs, smoked salmon and home-grown tomato salsa.

     Daniel busied himself loading up his plate and making sure Hope had her toast under control before squinting at me. ‘I’m so sorry about last night. If it makes you feel any better, I spent several hours reflecting on my disgustingly creepy, white male privileged behaviour and putting strategies in place to ensure it never happens again.’

     I sat back in surprise. For someone so attuned to, well, everything, Daniel had seriously misread the situation.

     ‘I also kept my T-shirt on.’

     I ducked my head, sure that my cheeks must be on the brink of bursting into flames.

     Daniel lowered his voice even further. ‘I really am sorry. I honestly meant nothing by it beyond trying to get Hope to settle and keeping a clean T-shirt so I didn’t stink in front of your family.’

     I took a sip of coffee. Not that I needed any chemical stimulus adding to my jitters. Daniel looked devastated. I couldn’t let him go on thinking I’d taken what he said the wrong way.

     ‘I didn’t run away because I thought you were being creepy.’

     He gave me a sharp look, a forkful of egg halfway to his mouth.

     ‘I left because I didn’t trust myself not to act creepy when in the same bed as you, in the dark, with no top on.’

     Then I picked up my empty plate and mug and ran away.

Having put away the last glass and wiped every stray crumb I could find off the kitchen surfaces, I couldn’t keep hiding any longer. I met Daniel coming down the main stairs, jacket and boots on, Hope in the sling. We both automatically paused when we saw each other coming, but Daniel was the first to start moving again, affecting what I think he considered to be a nice, normal expression.

     ‘Are you going out?’ I asked, my freewheeling thoughts not being able to grasp anything beyond stating the obvious.

     ‘Yeah, I thought we’d go on a walk, see the lake. Give you some space to catch up with your parents.’

     ‘Oh, we did that, last night. Dad already asked if there’d been an emergency and I said no. Nothing more to catch up on.’

     ‘Right. Okay. Do you… want to come with us?’

     While I appreciated the invitation, and under different circumstances I might have been tempted to say yes, the look on his face was enough to have me making my excuses about wanting to go over the booking system before I scuttled into the office.

     ‘Ah, Eleanor, there you are!’ Dad came in a few minutes later, his solid stomach leading the way. ‘Gadwall, Pintail and Goosander all need a changeover.’

     We had ten rooms in total, most named after a bird that normal people had never heard of.

     ‘I’m just going over some of your admin processes, if that’s okay.’ I shuffled the office chair an inch or two closer to the desk, to prove my point.

     He frowned, baffled. ‘Room changes are done before admin, you know that.’

     ‘Dad, I’m here visiting, not as a temp staff member. I’ve already helped with breakfast.’

     ‘You’re either here as family, and all family pitch in on changeovers, or you’re here as a guest, in which case that’ll be ninety pounds a night. You can have Pintail, as of this morning it’s unoccupied.’

     ‘Are you serious?’

     I pulled my eyes away from the numbers dancing across the cranky old desktop screen. Dad stared back at me. Of course he was serious. I supposed that if I helped change the beds and clean the bathrooms I might be able to wangle some information as we went.

     One sparkling, spanking clean Gadwall, Pintail and Goosander later, I had garnered the following.

     The systems and processes employed by the Tufted Duck were in place because they’d always been that way, and why change something that worked? With that attitude, I was impressed they’d progressed to a computer. I did manage to gather some dribs and drabs on how they managed accounts and budgets, but honestly there was nothing I couldn’t have found in half the time by looking on the internet. Mum did, however, reveal something of genuine significance.

     ‘Did that person manage to get hold of you?’

     ‘What person?’ I focused very hard on smoothing down the fresh sheet on Pintail’s bed as my heart began tap-dancing in my chest.

     ‘They called asking to speak to you.’

     ‘What did you say?’ Could have been an old friend. Someone from the town… one of the staff at the Cumbrian

     ‘Well, I told them you weren’t here, of course.’

     ‘And?’

     Mum flicked on a duvet covered in frolicking forest animals with expert speed. ‘And what?’

     ‘What else did they say?’

     ‘They asked where you were.’

     I tried to keep my voice below a screech, despite my throat having seized up.

     ‘Well, I asked who was asking. They said an old friend from school. I don’t know who they were but with an accent like that they weren’t from round here. I’m not about to give away any details to some stranger. I know all about stalkers and super-fans and things. I’m not an idiot, Eleanor. I told them to try your online whatsit. They could have been a tabloid journalist looking for a dirty scoop.’ She bent over to start damp-dusting the skirting boards.

     ‘Was it a man or a woman?’

     ‘A woman. I think.’

     ‘Anything else about her you remember?’

     Mum stood up and went to shake the duster out the window. ‘No.’

     ‘When did she call?’

     ‘A few weeks ago I suppose. Please don’t stand there staring at me. That mirror won’t clean itself.’

     ‘After I’d called to tell you I’d left London?’

     ‘Well, it must have been, or else I’d have mentioned it then.’

     ‘Okay. Thanks for letting me know.’ I gave the mirror a squirt of cleaner.

     She was the one to stop then. ‘Is everything all right? Because you’ve just sprayed bathroom cleaner on a glass surface.’

     ‘Yes.’ I used the duster to wipe off most of the fluid. ‘It’s fine.’

     ‘And you’ve no idea who it is?’

     ‘Like you say, probably a fan of my writing. They can always get in touch with me online. Thanks for letting me know.’

     My mother was about as convinced by that theory as I was.

     I ducked into the bathroom and started scrubbing before she could see my hands trembling.

Daniel messaged to say that he’d not be back for lunch. I shoved down the immediate thoughts of panic that I’d scared him away forever, and made a cheese and tomato toastie.

     Dad and Grandma joined me with locally bred ham and mustard rolls left over from the Weighbridge Walkers’ picnic choices. Not a squeak of halloumi anywhere.

     Ah, home sweet home. I took a happy bite of toastie and sat back in my chair.

     ‘Did the woman find you?’ Grandma asked, around a mouthful of white bread.

     The toastie formed a solid lump halfway down my throat. ‘What woman?’

     I was torn between being relieved I hadn’t decided to come home, and terrified that someone from the Alami family might come looking for me while I wasn’t here to deal with it.

     ‘She phoned. Asking for you.’

     ‘Did you get her name?’

     ‘I did!’ Grandma nodded eagerly, before pausing to think. ‘I can’t remember it.’

     ‘Okay, it doesn’t matter.’ And if it’s who I think it is, they won’t have given a real name, anyway.

     ‘She sounded posh. Like that woman off the telly.’ That made Grandma smile. ‘Perhaps it was her! Maybe she wants to invite you onto her show.’

     ‘Maybe.’ I smiled as brightly as possible considering a heart-in-a-box-posting stalker was quite possibly still on my trail.

     ‘Did you tell her where I was?’

     ‘I don’t know where you are!’ Grandma shook her head. ‘I said that you live with a friend now and to try there.’

     ‘Did they ask what friend?’

     ‘Yes. I told them your friend who had died.’ She frowned. ‘She hung up then.’

     ‘Okay. If she calls again, please don’t tell her I’m staying with Daniel. She might be a deranged fan.’

     ‘Who’s Daniel?’

     I felt pretty confident that my secret was safe with Grandma, even if I did feel sick to my stomach at the thought of this person contacting my family.

     Worst of all, I realised with a jolt of horror, this meant they had definitely figured out my true identity.

     I waited for Grandma to shuffle off to the lounge room to watch ‘that lovely man’ and made sure I caught Dad’s attention before he rushed off to the next job.

     ‘Dad, I’m a tiny bit concerned about that call. If it is an obsessive fan, they might come here.’

     Dad beetled his brows. ‘Why would they do that if they know you aren’t here?’

     I shrugged. ‘They might think Grandma’s lying.’

     ‘Oh no, they’ve spoken to me and your mother, too. We were very clear.’

     Him too?

     ‘Okay. Thank you. But if they are really obsessed, they might come here anyway. To find out more information, or see the place where I was raised and used to work. They could book in and then try to trick you in pleasant conversation into giving more information about where I am. Or, I don’t know, poke about until they find a phone number or something.’ Sheesh, Eleanor, stop! I was really scaring myself now!

     ‘This is quite a big jump from a couple of phone calls, to someone sneaking in here and stealing information.’ Dad’s look conveyed that he knew full well I was hiding something.

     ‘Dad, I’ve had a lot of nasty trolling – messages and threats online. It’s part and parcel of being a woman in the media these days, but it’s one of the reasons I decided to stop. Some of it was vicious. I don’t know what someone who could make those kinds of threats might do. I don’t want you to be scared…’

     ‘Good, because we aren’t!’

     ‘… but I do want you to be careful.’

     Dad rolled his eyes. ‘Eleanor, when have you ever known your mother and me to be anything else?’

     I managed a real smile, then. ‘That’s true. Okay. And if they call again, will you let me know, please?’

     He got up to carry our plates into the kitchen. ‘Of course.’

     I knew he wouldn’t let me know, but at least I’d asked.

     While half-heartedly going through more of the Tufted Duck files that afternoon, I tried to process the information that felt far more pressing. Grandma had told the caller that I was staying with a friend who had died. Could that lead anyone to Charlie, and then Damson Farm, and then Daniel, Hope and me?

     I’d never written about Charlie, and even if I had, I hadn’t mentioned that she’d died, because I hadn’t known. I hadn’t told Lucy or Miles, so they couldn’t inadvertently mention it to anyone. There had been nothing on social media about Charlie’s death, because she had closed down her account, and Daniel stayed well away from all of that. Plus, the Perrys had worked hard to keep the whole thing quiet because of Billie’s issues around the way that she died.

     After going round and round, prodding at every argument, trying to figure out if I’d missed anything, I had to conclude that Grandma’s clue wouldn’t have helped anyone. I ached to talk it through with someone, a person who didn’t have most of their brain frozen solid in fear and so could think half-straight, but who could that be?

     There was no way I could tell anyone this, without telling them everything. It may have been twisted priorities, but that was what scared me most of all.

Daniel arrived back at the same time as the walkers, who tramped through the door in a flurry of muddy boots and rosy cheeks just after four. The Tufted Duck being a B & B, they had all booked dinner at the nearest pub, about a quarter of a mile along the lake.

     ‘We need to think about food,’ I said to Daniel, once Hope had been settled with a bottle on Grandma’s knee in the lounge room, their presence nicely avoiding the post-creepy comment awkwardness. ‘I think I saw some pasta bake in the fridge.’

     ‘Is that a joke?’ Grandma said. ‘Whatever your parents might think, you three are meant to be on holiday!’

     ‘She’s got a fair point,’ Daniel replied, cradling his mug of tea. ‘I’m sure the pasta is lovely, but how about going out to eat?’

     ‘A good idea!’ Grandma said. ‘Somewhere swanky that even a big, fancy pants famous restaurant reviewer would approve of!’

     ‘Grandma,’ I chided. ‘I’m not that famous or fancy pants. And we can hardly take Hope somewhere like that.’

     ‘Well, of course not. Leave her with us. We’ll watch her.’

     ‘Um.’ I glanced at Daniel. While Hope was having a lovely time playing with Grandma’s beaded necklace, I wasn’t sure she was quite up to babysitting duties.

     ‘I’ve actually already booked us a table at the Red House.’

     ‘What?’ The Red House was about as swanky, fancy pants as Windermere got.

     Daniel shrugged, and behind his mug he appeared to be blushing. ‘We were driving past and it looked nice. It’s ages since I’ve eaten at a restaurant. And like Grandma said, you might be on a work trip but I’m on holiday.’

     Oh my goodness.

     He had booked us a meal in a restaurant.

     While one part of my brain knew this could be in order to relocate to a neutral venue to tell me that due to my inappropriate feelings I would need to move out of Damson Farm, a larger part was jumping up and down in a mixture of ecstasy, excitement and full-blown nerves.

     Surely this was a date?

     A man asking a woman, who strongly indicated that she found him attractive only hours earlier, to eat out with him in a fine dining restaurant? If it wasn’t a date, it was downright cruel not to be clear about it.

     My heart was flapping like a demented chicken.

     ‘Are you sure?’ I asked, my voice humiliatingly hoarse.

     ‘Well, why wouldn’t he be sure?’ Grandma exclaimed. ‘It’s only a meal out, isn’t it? Although…’ She leant towards Daniel’s chair. ‘You are paying, aren’t you?’

     ‘Well, given that I’m staying here for free, I think I’d better pay.’

     ‘Very good. I wholeheartedly approve. Eleanor?’ Grandma nodded, satisfied. ‘Go and do all the things I’ve not done since your Grandad was here, God bless him.’