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The next morning, I awoke to the sweet music of my sister puking out of the window.
‘Decided that the flowers outside deserved some fertilizer to, did you?’ I enquired, gently grasping her trembling shoulders, supporting her.
‘Something like that,’ she croaked. ‘Besides, the vases are full.’
To judge by the smell in the room, she was right. Oh well…time to take a leaf out of Mr Ambrose’s book, I guess. My turn to do some waste-disposal. Grabbing the first vase, I stepped towards the door—then hesitated, glancing back at Ella, who was still hanging out of the window.
‘Will you be all right, or should I help you get back into bed?’
‘Go, go.’ She waved me off with a weak smile. ‘I can still take three steps across the room.’
Reassured, I pulled open the door and started heading down the corridor. I was just about to start down the first set of stairs when a chambermaid with a feather duster came out of an unoccupied room to my left and stopped to stare at me.
‘My goodness, Miss! What are you doing with that thing? Please, let me help you.’ Rushing forward, she took the vase out of my arms.
‘Thanks,’ I panted, flexing my fingers. ‘That thing is pretty heavy.’
‘Why did you carry it out yourself? Just ring, and one of us will be there right away to help you.’
‘Yes, I know. It’s just, well…’ For lack of words, I gestured at the vase.
‘Yes, I see what you mean.’ Critically, the chambermaid regarded the flowers. ‘They do seem sort of wilted, don’t they? Strange. I had Betty put in new ones only yesterday. And is it just me, or do they smell kind of funny?’
‘It’s not just you,’ I assured her.
‘Well, no problem, Miss. I’ll have the flowers replaced immediately.’
‘Thank you, but…err….actually, I would like to have the whole vase replaced.’
‘The vase?’
‘Preferably with a tub.’
‘A…tub. You want a tub full of flowers.’
‘Well, no. Flowers are not strictly necessary. But you can put them in if you like.’
She blinked at me, obviously weighing the orders she had been given to obey my every whim against the possibility that I was completely cuckoo. Finally, the orders won. Several hundred years of British Monarchy and more than one batshit-crazy king will do that to people.
‘Yes, Miss. A tub. Right away, Miss.’
I was just about to turn back, when the face of a bellhop appeared around the corner further down the stairs.
‘Miss Linton? Miss Linton! There’s a gentleman down at the front desk asking for you.’
My heart made a leap. A gentleman? Hadn’t Mr Ambrose said he wanted to stay in the background for now?
‘What does this gentleman look like?’
‘Older, grey-haired, with a big nose and a bigger opinion of himself.’
I frowned. That didn’t sound like anyone I knew.
‘He says his name is Dr Brooks.’
‘Doctor? Why the heck didn’t you say so at once?’ Pushing the maid aside, I raced down the stairs. The bellhop had just enough time to jump out of the way before I barrelled past him. I didn’t stop until I reached the lobby. Panting, I slowed and looked around. Where…
There!
