When Night Closes in (8 page)

‘It's rather late, please keep your voice down, my mother is in bed,' Lowri said. ‘What can I do for you, is it about the lease on Plunch Lane?'

‘You could say that.' Sarah's voice sounded strange. ‘It's about the time when you were there, in early spring it must have been.' Her large eyes were narrowed. She appeared like a cat about to pounce on an unwary mouse.

Sarah paused as if to examine one of her fingers and Lowri saw the glint of a gold wedding ring. ‘I found a photograph, you see.' She paused as though to take a breath. ‘You were naked, abandoned. It was quite obvious from the photograph that you had just been making love to my husband.'

Lowri felt as though she had been slapped in the face. She ran her fingers through her hair, not sure what to say. There was no point in denying it; the photograph was proof enough.

‘Where did you find it?' she asked.

‘That's not important.' Sarah's tone was icy.

‘It is to me,' Lowri said.

‘That's just too bad! Now, how long has this affair been going on?'

‘Look!' Lowri was aware of the anger in her voice but there was little point in trying to hide how she felt. ‘I've been going out with Jon for almost six months. It wasn't just a cheap affair, far from it, I thought he loved me.' She was near to tears. ‘So don't you dare come here attacking me in my own home! None of this is my fault. I have done nothing wrong, get that into your head once and for all, Mrs Brandon.'

‘Nothing wrong?' Sarah's voice rose. ‘You sleep with my husband in my bed and leave your stink on my sheets. You call that nothing wrong? What sort of woman are you?'

Lowri's small rush of anger faded. ‘I'm the gullible sort.' She looked across at Sarah. ‘I didn't know he was married.'

‘Don't lie!' Sarah's eyes were blazing. ‘You might say you're gullible but I am not. You slept with Jon, time and time again. How many times, Miss Richards, or are they too many to count?'

Lowri shook her head, crushed with guilt in the face of Sarah's pain. But Sarah went on relentlessly.

‘You spent that last weekend with him at the Swan, didn't you?'

‘Yes, I did.'

‘And he's never been seen since. What happened, did you have a row, did he walk out on you?'

Lowri rubbed her eyes. ‘I don't know what happened.' She felt beaten. ‘He just vanished from the hotel. It's as if he never existed.'

‘I loved him so much,' Sarah said in a low voice. ‘But you are the last straw, I could never live with Jon now, not after this.'

Lowri was silent. How could she defend herself? Why had she been so unquestioning, so trusting? She believed she would marry Jon so why had she learned so little about him?

Sarah rose to her feet and Lowri stood up too. Sarah surveyed her up and down and Lowri was aware that she must look a wreck. Even now, as the injured wife, Sarah managed to appear composed and beautiful.

‘What happened to him?' Sarah asked in a cold voice. ‘That night in the hotel, did he tell you it was all over? Did you kill him rather than let him leave you?'

‘Don't be absurd!' Lowri shook her head. ‘I don't know what happened. I fell asleep on the balcony – I was listening to music. I just don't know anything, I wish to God I did!'

‘He'd had sex with you by then, of course.' Sarah's voice was like a lancet, picking away at a wound. ‘He was good at that. I know how good, I had the benefit of his libido for some years before he found me too dull, too unadventurous in bed.'

She smiled thinly. ‘He must have enjoyed you very much to stick with you so long but remember this, what he really enjoyed was punishing me. He slept with you as a little diversion, you were never important to him, just understand that.'

‘I understand,' Lowri said emptily.

‘He couldn't be faithful to me so I'm sure he wouldn't be faithful to a trollop like you! You were just one of many.' Sarah paused and peered closely at Lowri.

‘Have you asked that girl, that bottle-blonde tart Sally White, if she slept with Jon? Because I would put my last penny on it that she did.' She shook her head. ‘If it moved, he'd take it to bed.'

‘Please! Leave me alone.' Lowri put her hands to her cheeks – they were burning. ‘Look, I'm tired, will you just go, please?'

‘So you're tired are you? Poor soul. Well, I'm devastated. I've lost my husband, he's maybe dead or lying somewhere injured and you, you pretend to know nothing about it all. Do you think I'm stupid?'

Sarah gritted her teeth, her face was suffused with colour and Lowri thought for a moment that she might attack her. But Sarah made an effort to regain control.

‘You are disgusting, do you know that?'

It was pointless trying to explain that Jon was a convincing liar, that she had really believed that he was free to marry her. What married man out for a fling took his mistress to his home, even if it was a holiday cottage? But perhaps Sarah was right and Jon's main aim in life was to punish his wife, to taunt her with his other women.

‘Just go!' she said. Her brain felt scrambled, her emotions fluctuating between anger and despair. ‘I can't deal with this, not now.'

Sarah pushed her face closer, her eyes seeming to pierce Lowri's skull. ‘You'll have more to deal with before I've finished with you, madam.'

She walked to the door and glanced back, and the hate in her eyes was frightening. ‘You wouldn't have lasted much longer with him. Look at you, skin and bone, bags under your eyes. You were getting too old, my dear.'

She put her hand on the front-door catch. ‘I've been watching you, you've found another fool to take you out. You didn't let any grass grow under your feet, did you?' She paused, a thin smile barely touching her lips. ‘I saw you, in the pub with him. He just picked you up at the bar, did he? Well, enjoy it while you may but I think you'll find it a slippery road to ruin from here on in, Miss Richards. I am not a woman you would want as an enemy, believe me.'

She walked outside, leaving the door open. As Lowri slammed it shut, her heart was thumping. The woman was deranged; there was no way of reasoning with her. But then would any wronged wife want to listen to excuses made by the other woman, especially when the excuses were so bizarre?

Lowri went into the kitchen and switched on the kettle. Was she going mad – had she imagined the love in Jon's eyes, the tenderness in his touch?

She made tea and her hands trembled as she lifted the cup. She felt tears constrict her throat and swallowed painfully. What was happening to her? She was losing control; she was being swept this way and that. Suddenly, she wished that Jim Lainey, with his kindness, his reassuring presence, was here with her.

Before she went to bed, she took great care locking up; her nerves were on edge, her heart still beating unnaturally fast. She carried her tea into the bedroom and switched on all the lights. She put down the cup; perhaps she should check on her mother. Maybe she had been disturbed by Sarah's angry voice.

Her mother was asleep curled into a ball, half hidden under the bedclothes. Beside her on the table was a bottle of sleeping-pills.

Lowri's face softened. Her mother looked so young in sleep, so vulnerable. She did not deserve the treatment meted out to her by her husband. Lowri picked up the bottle and took out a tablet. She needed to sleep, needed to forget all about Jon Brandon and his crazy wife. Quietly, she closed the door and went into her own room.

Lowri sat at her desk feeling weary, defeated. Her mother had reacted to an irate phone call from Charles and had rushed back home, and even at the last minute Lowri wondered if she should talk to her about Jon. In the end she said nothing; her mother had enough to cope with.

‘I feel my life is disintegrating into one huge mess, Sal.' She closed her eyes, resting her head in her hands.

‘I can see you're off colour,' Sally said. ‘Time of the month, is it? I'll make you a nice cup of coffee now.'

Lowri rose to her feet, filled with the need to do something, anything. ‘No thanks.' She felt suddenly charged with energy. ‘I'm going to drive down to the Swan. Perhaps one of the staff might have seen Jon leave.' She smiled grimly. ‘At least I can find out if he's been there again with another girlfriend.'

‘No, don't go!' Sally said. Lowri looked at her in surprise.

‘Why not?'

‘Well, what about Mr Watson?' Sally asked. ‘He'll get fed up of you taking time off work.'

‘No, he won't.' Lowri smiled. ‘You've said yourself, he thinks I'm wonderful.'

‘Wait, Lowri, do you really think this is a good idea?' Sally seemed agitated. ‘I don't want you to throw away your job here, I'd be lost without you.'

‘That's very touching, Sal, but it won't come to that.' She sighed. ‘I have to do something, I just can't sit around twiddling my thumbs. Jon must have gone somewhere and someone must have seen him leave. I won't be too long.'

Lowri left the office and walked round to the back of the building to pick up the Mazda. As she slipped into the driving seat, she hesitated: could she face going back to the hotel? She started the car; she was going and that was that.

Even if the police were any nearer to finding out where Jon had gone, they were keeping quiet about it. She would have to try to discover for herself the truth about Jon Brandon and his vanishing act.

The roads were busy and the drive to the hotel took longer than she had anticipated. By the time she got there, Lowri was hot and uncomfortable. Sally was right about one thing: it
was
that time of the month.

She turned into the gravelled courtyard and drew the car to a halt, pulling on the handbrake. She climbed out and looked up at the fine old building, wondering at the secrets hidden behind the many windows. Had Jon met another woman that night? Had a more tempting offer come along? Perhaps she would never know.

She looked up at the hotel again; would anyone there recognize her? Perhaps it would be just as well to hide her identity for a while. Casual, seemingly innocent enquiries usually caught people off guard. She put on her sunglasses and then moved around to the back of the car and opened the boot.

A scarf decorated with white stars against a sharp blue background lay in a pool of silk and shadow. Lowri picked it up. Sally must have left it there when she and Lowri had gone to see a prospective client a few days ago.

Lowri tied it around her short hair and with the large sunglasses covering most of her face, she would pass, she decided. In any case, she and Jon had only been there once, for one night. It was doubtful anyone would remember her.

The receptionist was busy writing; she glanced up at Lowri without curiosity. ‘Be with you in a minute,' she said. Lowri did not recognize her; the girl was young, very pretty. Just the type Jon Brandon would go for, according to his wife.

‘Now, madam, how can I help?' The girl looked up and smiled suddenly. ‘Oh, hello, I remember you, you've been here before, haven't you?'

Lowri nodded. ‘Lowri Richards. I came here with my boyfriend Jon, Jon Brandon.'

‘What I remember, actually, is your scarf, it's so distinctive,' the girl said. ‘Of course I only saw you from the back or I would have recognized your face right away. I'm good on faces.'

Lowri swallowed hard. ‘Do you remember the man I was with?'

The receptionist smiled. ‘I do, he was very dishy as it happens. He turned and winked at me, some looker.'

‘That's right, he is dishy isn't he?' Lowri hesitated. ‘Could I look round the room, do you think?' She smiled. ‘I know the place has probably been cleaned since I was here but I lost an earring. It's just possible I might find it there. Room 101 I think it was.'

‘I don't see any harm in that.' The receptionist consulted the register. ‘You're in luck, number 101, the one with the balcony and it's free. Here, take my key, but promise you won't pinch the towels!'

‘I promise.' Lowri smiled. ‘Sometimes my sister borrows my scarf, it might have been Sally you saw.' She sighed. ‘I have been wondering if she's got her eye on my fella.'

The receptionist gave her an understanding smile. ‘Men eh? I'm sure you've nothing to worry about, though. I don't think your own sister would want to borrow your man as well as your scarf. Your chap is tall, isn't he? Lovely dark hair and so handsome. I could have fallen for him myself.'

Lowri sighed. ‘Well, Jon fits that description but then so do many men.' She forced a smile. ‘I shouldn't be so suspicious but it's the good-looking ones you have to watch.'

She ignored the lift, it was old and very small and it creaked alarmingly. In any case, room 101 was on the first floor – it was quicker to walk up the stairs. She paused outside the room, her thoughts reeling. Jon and Sally? Surely not. She had allowed Sarah Brandon to plant the seeds of suspicion. No doubt there were other scarves just like the one Lowri was wearing.

She opened the door and stared around her at a scene of normality. The bed was made, the room was fresh and clean, it was a hotel room like any other.

Lowri walked over to the balcony doors, trying to stem the nostalgia that washed over her. She took several deep breaths. The balcony was empty, the plastic chairs neatly turned up on the tabletop.

She moved nearer to the bed: it was as pristine as the rest of the room. It was hard to believe she and Jon had lain there, making love like crazy people. Had he known even then it would be for the last time?

Lowri sank into a chair and rubbed her forehead tiredly. Sarah Brandon seemed to think Sally was Jon's type of woman. If she was, and Jon had fallen for her, why had he disappeared?

Lowri felt she was going mad. She was sitting in the Swan Hotel expecting to find clues to what had happened that last night with Jon. She realized now that she had very little chance of that. Impatiently, she stared down at the brightly patterned scarf, shimmering in a shaft of light from the window.