‘Stop it!’ Bess shouted, running across the hall to Frank. ‘He isn’t worth it.’
Sir Gerald and his daughter, on either side of Sutherland, tried to help him up but, angry and red-faced, he shook them off. With his hand over his eye, Sutherland clambered to his feet unaided and, without looking back, bulldozed his way through a huddle of partygoers gathered at the hotel’s entrance and disappeared.
Frank started after him. ‘I’m going to make sure that animal leaves,’ he shouted, shaking out his right hand and flexing his fingers. He looked back at his brother-in-law. ‘Come on, Bill, we’ll see him off the property.’
‘No, Frank!’ Bess took hold of her husband’s arm and spun him round. ‘You can’t go after him. If he hits you the way you hit him and damages your good eye, you could end up blind.’ As if he hadn’t heard her, Frank kept walking. Bess ran past him and stopped. She turned and, looking up at him, slapped the palms of her hands on his chest. ‘Stop, Frank! Please!’ She was near to tears. ‘I’m begging you not to go after him.’
Fuming, Frank stood for some time staring at the door that Sutherland had exited by. ‘All right,’ he said at last, and when Bess let her hands fall to her sides, he pulled her to him and held her tightly. ‘All right,’ he said again.
‘It’s time the celebrations ended,’ Bess said, relieved. ‘Would you go back to the ballroom and ask the band to play the last waltz?’
She summoned her brother-in-law. ‘Bill, find the photographer from the Advertiser. I saw him scribbling in his note book when Frank hit Sutherland. Tell him there’s as much beer as he can drink, every night for a week, if he’ll take some photographs of cheerful party-goers as they leave the hotel. And ask him not to make too much of the fracas between Sutherland and Frank, or Sutherland and that Sir Gerald bloke, when he writes up his story. Oh, and find out if he heard any of the conversation between Sutherland and Sir Gerald when they were at the bar.’
Bill looked around. ‘He’s talking to the barman. I’ll ask him now.’
‘I’m sorry, love,’ Frank said.
‘What about? Punching Sutherland? I’m not. I wanted to hit him myself. I wish I had now.’ Bess lifted her husband’s hands and inhaled sharply. The knuckles on his right hand were skinned and bleeding. She looked up into his face. ‘If he had hit you back, you could have lost your good eye,’ she said, thrusting his hands aside in anger.
‘I know. But he didn’t hit me.’ Frank pulled Bess to him and embraced her. ‘It won’t be me waking up with a black eye in the morning, but Sutherland will have a bloody shiner,’ he laughed. Bess’s usually gentle husband bent down and kissed her on the lips, before returning to the ballroom.
‘Can you imagine what the headline on the front page of Monday’s Advertiser will say?’ Margot asked, as she and Bess watched Bill approach the reporter.
‘Unfortunately I can, which is why we need more photographs of people enjoying themselves. If free beer for a week doesn’t persuade the guy to be kind to us when he writes his review, I’ll buy a large ad. I’ll buy a page if necessary, to show people that the opening of the Foxden Hotel was a success.’ Bess waited until her husband was out of sight and turned to her sister. ‘Frank’s right, Margot.’
‘About what?’
‘Making sure Sutherland leaves. I don’t want him hanging about in the grounds, breaking in through a window, or finding some other way to get into the hotel. Come on.’
‘Wait for us!’ Ena called, her arms full of coats and hats, gloves and outdoor shoes. ‘We’ve checked everywhere. The hotel is secure.’
‘And the police are on their way,’ Claire added. ‘We’re coming with you.’
‘No you are not!’ Bess looked from Claire to Ena. ‘You can’t help with this.’
‘I’ve been trained to deal with dangerous people,’ Claire said. ‘If things get rough--’
‘And I can handle myself,’ Ena put in.
‘I said no!’ Tears began to blur Bess’s vision. She blinked them back. ‘Neither of you can be involved,’ she whispered, ‘not now the police have been informed. Think about it!’
Claire raised her eyebrows at Ena. ‘Bess is right.’ Ena nodded and helped Bess into her coat, while Claire helped Margot into hers. ‘We’ll stay here and see the last of the guests out. But if you want me, us--’
‘I know. Thank you.’
‘Be careful,’ Claire said, hugging Bess and then Margot. Bess nodded. Ena kissed her sisters, wrapped a scarf around each of their necks and echoed Claire’s words.
Bess watched her younger siblings go their separate ways, Ena back to the cloakroom and Claire towards the ballroom. ‘Come on, Margot,’ she said, taking off her high-heels and putting on calf-length sheepskin boots.
‘Why is it all right for me to be involved, but not them?’ Margot asked, pushing her feet into fashionable suede ankle boots with kitten heels and a fur trim.
‘Because you’re already involved, Margot, and so am I. Ena and Claire aren’t, and there’s no need for them to be.’ Bess picked up their evening shoes and took them to reception. Maeve wasn’t on the desk, so she opened the office door and dropped them inside.
‘Even so--’ Margot said.
‘For God’s sake, Margot, you know the work they did in the war was top secret. Ena is covered; her war record says she worked in a factory from thirty-nine to forty-five, but Claire was overseas so much her WAAF record has huge gaps in it. So, stop going on about it, and do as I ask!’
The wind blew
