Remains of the Dead by Anne Morgellyn

Author:Anne Morgellyn [Morgellyn, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2019-04-08T22:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Fourteen

It only took us half an hour to get to Plymouth. We by-passed the city centre and headed for the Hoe where Chas stationed the bike beneath the Citadel. I took off my helmet and gazed at the sweep of Plymouth Sound. A ferry, bound for Spain, was sailing out to sea. ‘This is some view,’ I said, thinking of Francis Drake. He would have seen those Spaniards coming from miles away.

‘Marian-Hynes retired here,’ Chas said.

My stomach churned. ‘You’ve not come here to visit him?’

‘He’s dead. He died last year.’ He smiled at me. ‘The last of his line.’

I leaned back against the bike. My legs felt weak and unsteady, as though I had been at sea for several days.

‘Did you eat breakfast?’ Chas barked.

‘Just tea, and your sister’s coffee.’

‘Low blood sugar. No wonder you’re fucking depressed, Louise. You don’t exactly help yourself.’

He put his arm around me and walked me up the hill across Hoe Park. ‘Let’s check in there,’ he said, indicating a huge Victorian hotel that overlooked the Sound. ‘They do a proper breakfast.’

‘Check in?’

‘You weren’t comfortable around Stasia, I could see that. I’m not letting you go just yet, Louise.’

‘But that’s stupid,’ I began. ‘Besides, it’s got nothing to do with your sister. It’s me, Chas. My old stuff. Just put me on the train to London.’

‘So you can get stoned and get us both into all kinds of shit? No way.’

‘What kind of shit? I’ll keep my head down.’ Believe me, I thought. If I’d had a hole to crawl into, I thought I would never come out.

We were in sight of the hotel doorman. He obviously didn’t like the look of our leathers but Chas pushed on through the revolving door and steered me towards the desk. Once she had clocked his American Express card and his professional title, the desk clerk thawed to maritime breeziness. ‘Are you in the HOG, Dr Androssoff?’ she asked. ‘My brother’s with the local group. Off to the rally on Saturday are you?’

‘We’ll see. Will my bike be safe in your car-park?’

‘Oh quite safe,’ she said. ‘Shall I have your luggage brought in?’

‘No thanks, we’ll sort it later.’

‘We haven’t got any luggage,’ I whispered, as he led me towards the lift. ‘I thought we were just having breakfast.’

The clerk had given us a room on the second floor, a room that promised a view. It helped to be a god of the medical profession. If I had signed us in, we’d have been at the back of the building, somewhere above the kitchen. My heart started to pound. My mouth felt dry.

‘What’s the HOG?’ I asked Chas as the lift began its climb. ‘Sounds unpleasant.’

‘Harley Owners’ Group.’ He pulled me down the corridor towards room 207. There were red plush curtains, a balcony and two queen-sized beds. I made for the one nearest the window. As I was resting my head, Chas got on the phone to room service. ‘Full English breakfast,’ he ordered. ‘Twice – Oh, yes, you can.

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