Oriental Hotel by Janet Tanner

a soft bundle at her feet.
    â€˜Now, let me see, where’s your nightdress …’ She crossed to the bed and Elise waited obediently, only easing off her slip and bra when Mrs Parsons returned with the nightgown, a simple Janet Reger sheath of cream silk.
    â€˜Now, into bed with you, Ma’am.’ The housekeeper turned the covers aside, eased her mistress beneath them and tucked them over once more with calm efficiency. Then she brought the tray of hot chocolate and biscuits, setting it down on the table beside the bed.
    â€˜You’ll be all right now, Mrs Sanderson, won’t you? If I know anything about it you’ll be asleep before I’ve had a chance to lock up the house …’ She had crossed the room as she spoke, but now in the doorway she stopped suddenly. ‘Oh, I nearly forgot!’
    â€˜Nearly forgot what?’ Elise asked, reaching for the cup of chocolate.
    â€˜The gentleman who phoned up for you. He was quite put out when I told him you were out. It seems he is very anxious to see you and is only in this country for a day or two. Here from Hong Kong, I think he said.’
    â€˜Hong Kong?’ Elise was suddenly sharply awake.
    â€˜That’s right. Anyway, he said he would take a chance and run out here tomorrow afternoon. I told him to ring first for an appointment, but he took no notice of me – just said he didn’t know if he would have time to ring again and would I tell you to expect him. I thought perhaps it was somebody you and Mr Sanderson knew when you were out in the Far East.’
    There was a stillness within Elise that she could not explain, a strange, suspended waiting as if breath was trapped within her lungs and her very heart had stopped beating. ‘Did he give his name, Mrs Parsons?’
    The housekeeper nodded. ‘ Yes, he did. Brittain, he said – Mr Brittain.’ Then, as she saw the change come over Elise’s face, saw the cup shake violently in her hand, she took a quick alarmed step back into the room. ‘Mrs Sanderson, what is it? Are you all right?’
    Elise scarcely heard her. The voice was blurred, muffled by the roaring in her ears; the familiar room was spinning before her eyes. With a tremendous effort she controlled the cup, but the fine bone china clinked dangerously as she set it down heavily on the bedside table.
    Mr Brittain. Brit! It wasn’t possible …
    â€˜Mrs Parsons …’ Elise’s voice rasped slightly as if shock had dried every drop of saliva.
    â€˜I’m sorry if I did wrong.’ The housekeeper hovered anxiously. It wasn’t like her mistress to act this way; she was usually so calm, so much in control of herself. ‘ I should have insisted, I suppose, but he didn’t give me the chance, really.’
    No, he wouldn’t, thought Elise. Brit had always had his way, never stood on formality … She shook herself – it couldn’t possibly be Brit!
    â€˜Did he give his Christian name?’ She could hear her voice rising and fought to keep it level.
    â€˜No, Ma’am, I don’t know that he did.’ Mrs Parsons’ round face was creased with anxiety. ‘You don’t have to see him if it’s going to upset you. I can send him packing if he shows his face here tomorrow.’
    â€˜No!’ Elise said sharply. Then more quietly, ‘ No, there is no need to do that, Mrs Parsons. I would like to see him.’
    â€˜Well, if you’re sure, Ma’am …’
    â€˜Of course I’m sure,’ she said aloud. She must be going crazy. The whole world was going crazy …
    â€˜Now look, Mrs Sanderson, what you need is a good night’s rest.’ Mrs Parsons came back to smooth the covers once more, still unsure what she had done to upset the mistress she adored and taking refuge in a pretence of normality. ‘ Would you like one of the tablets the doctor left when you sprained your ankle last year?