The Seventh Victim by Michael Wood

Author:Michael Wood [Wood, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008618537
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Two

B y the time Caroline and Alex arrived in Wales, it was close to 9.30PM – some four and a half hours after they’d left Skegness. They were both tired and hungry, and ached in places they didn’t think it was possible to ache. The hotel was generic, bright, airy and lacking in character. It was a world away from The Majestic, though. They went to their respective rooms, deciding to freshen up and then try to find somewhere to go to eat. It was getting late, but they didn’t care if it was a Michelin-starred restaurant or a run-down fish-and-chip shop with Health & Safety violations – they just needed food in their stomachs.

The little Italian restaurant turned out to be quite a pleasant, homely place. Deep-red painted walls, framed prints of Italian landscapes and soft lighting. It wasn’t too busy, the tables were a decent space apart to allow for private conversation and, most importantly, they were still taking orders. The menu was varied and not too expensive – while scanning it, they both snacked on the complimentary breadsticks, then asked for their starters to be brought to them as soon as possible.

Caroline knocked back her glass of white wine in one gulp and it went straight to her head. Alex was more restrained and stuck to water.

‘I can’t drink on an empty stomach. It makes me feel sick,’ he said.

Caroline was dressed in a white shirt, open at the collar, and smart black trousers. She had her hair down, sitting elegantly on her shoulders. When she had freshened up, she’d added a touch of make-up. Under the glow of the candlelight from the centre of the table, she looked beautiful. She may have hated the lines on her face, but Alex saw character, a life well lived.

Alex had changed into smart black trousers and a white shirt with a dark-grey V-neck pullover on top – all newly bought the day before. He’d run his fingers through his grey hair and sprayed himself liberally with the cologne Shona had bought for him last Christmas. She’d put her mother’s name on the gift tag, which Alex thought was a lovely touch. She was always buying him a new fragrance to try whenever she went shopping.

‘Nice place this, isn’t it?’ Caroline said, looking around.

‘Yes. You’d think it would be busy on a Friday night.’

‘Cardiff are playing at home,’ Caroline said.

‘That would explain the traffic.’

‘Who’s the baked brae?’ the waitress asked. She had a thick Welsh accent despite her name tag saying Mesalina.

They both tucked in straight away, neither of them talking until their plates were empty. They settled back in their seats, now with a glass of wine each, and waited for their main courses.

‘What happened to Melanie?’ Caroline asked. The question came out of nowhere, but it was obviously one she had been dying to ask since meeting up with Alex again.

A sadness appeared on Alex’s face. He looked down into his glass.

‘Sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.

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