Dead Gorgeous (13 page)

Mr Jackman’s mouth fell open. ‘I’m not Liam’s dad.’

‘His uncle then.’

‘I’m not his uncle either,’ said Mr Jackman. ‘My name is Joshua Jackman.’ At Nova’s blank look, he added quietly, ‘Liam’s not my son or my nephew.
He’s my brother.’

‘Your brother . . .? But he can’t be.’ Nova couldn’t take it in. ‘Liam said he had a younger brother called Josh.’

‘I’m his younger brother.’

‘But he’s sixteen at most.’ Nova shook her head. ‘You’re way up there!’

Mr Jackman smiled dryly. ‘I’m twenty-four in a couple of months.’

‘Like I said!’ Nova said, her point proven.

‘Liam died over ten years ago,’ said Mr Jackman. ‘When he appeared to me he looked exactly the same as the last time I saw him . . . alive. Ghosts obviously don’t grow
older. But I do.’

‘But. . . but . . .’ Nova blinked like a dazzled owl as she struggled to grasp what Mr Jackman was saying. ‘That’s . . . that’s . . . horrible. Poor
Liam!’

Nova could hardly imagine what it must be like for Liam. How must he feel, seeing Mr Jackman and knowing who he was. Mr Jackman was Liam’s younger brother, but now older and alive, while
Liam was stuck. Stuck in the hotel. Stuck in time. Stuck like a fly in a spider’s web. No wonder Mr Jackman was so desperate to free Liam – one way or another. Nova had assumed Liam had
only been at the hotel for a few months, a year or two at most. And she’d never dreamt that he’d actually died so close to her home. Maybe even
in
her home if Mr Jackman was
wrong about the tunnels. But to be here for over ten years. Even now, Nova still had trouble wrapping her mind around the idea.

‘Will you help me, Nova?’ asked Mr Jackman. ‘Please?’

‘I—’

‘What in the name of ruddy hell is going on here?’ Dad’s incredulous voice boomed out behind them, making Nova jump.

‘Ah, Mr Clibbens,’ began Mr Jackman as he headed up the stairs to the kitchen. ‘I was just talking to your daughter about the history of this hotel.’

‘At two o’clock in the morning? Have you lost your mind?’ Dad said angrily. ‘Nova, what’s going on?’

‘I just came downstairs to get myself a glass of milk,’ Nova explained. ‘And I saw Mr Jackman down here and we just got chatting.’

‘At two o’clock in the morning?’ Dad repeated.

‘I’m sorry. It was all my fault,’ said Mr Jackman. ‘I should’ve insisted that Nova go straight back to bed.’

‘And just what’re you doing down in my wine cellar?’ asked Dad.

‘I must admit, I became intrigued with the idea of the tunnels you were talking about earlier, so I thought I’d have a look and see if maybe there was another entrance to them
somewhere down there . . . somewhere.’

Dad’s expression was dropping in temperature with every passing second. ‘At two o’clock in the morning?’

‘I’m afraid, when I get an idea in my head, I like to go with it.’ Mr Jackman smiled apologetically.

‘At two o’clock in the morning?’

Mr Jackman shrugged.

‘And how did you get into the cellar in the first place? My wife always locks up last thing at night,’ said Dad.

‘I’m afraid I picked the lock,’ said Mr Jackman. ‘You know, you should open up the tunnels as a genuine historical attraction. I’m sure loads of people would love
to explore the route smugglers took centuries ago – and you do own the land around the hotel, don’t you?’

‘I am not going to stand here discussing real estate at two o’clock in the morning,’ said Dad, his tone hard as stone. ‘Nova, go to bed. I want to have a word in private
with Mr Jackman.’

‘But, Dad, we can explain . . .’

Dad turned to look at Nova and the look alone was enough to quell everything else she wanted to say. For once, she didn’t argue. She’d never seen her Dad quite so steamingly irate
before, not even when the twins had smuggled a live snake into the hotel as their new pet and it’d got lost in one of the occupied guest bedrooms.

Nova headed out of the kitchen. At the door, she turned to see her dad standing in front of Mr Jackman. ‘Dad . . .?’ she began.

‘Go to bed, Nova,’ Dad repeated softly.

Nova did as she was told and headed back to her room. She could only hope that Dad would give Mr Jackman a chance to explain. But somehow, she doubted it.

The early morning sunshine streamed through the hotel lounge windows, dancing on the table where Miss Dawn and Miss Eve sat playing gin rummy. Not for money, of course. Miss
Dawn didn’t hold with such things.

‘Things aren’t going too well for the Jackman family, are they?’ smiled Miss Eve.

Miss Dawn studied her companion, before she leaned forward to pick up a card from the deck. ‘How sad to only find happiness in the misfortunes of others.’

‘I just meant that neither brother is distinguishing himself at the moment.’

‘They’ll be all right.’ Miss Dawn carefully placed a card onto the discard pile.

‘Oh, Miss Dawn, wake up. Liam may be ten years older but he’s not ten years wiser. He’s still full of rage and resentment, anger and animosity, hatred and hostility.’

‘Spare me the alliteration, please.’ Miss Dawn was distinctly unimpressed.

Miss Eve sat back. Miss Dawn rearranged every card in her hand at least once, deliberately not looking at Miss Eve.

‘Don’t pin your hopes on Liam,’ Miss Eve said softly, picking up another card. ‘He’s lonely. And his loneliness is clouding his judgement.’

‘When the time comes, he’ll do the right thing,’ Miss Dawn said confidently.

‘Not a chance. He’s going to mess up. I can see all the signs,’ said Miss Eve.

‘Signs can be misleading.’

‘Signs can show you exactly which way the wind is blowing. And by the way – gin!’ Miss Eve said smugly, laying her cards on the table.

‘We’ll see,’ said Miss Dawn, laying her cards face down. ‘We’ll see!’

Miss Eve asked irritably, ‘Don’t you ever get tired of saying that?’

‘To be honest, I didn’t think you’d remember,’ said Andrew.

‘Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this all morning,’ smiled Raye. ‘I even had my breakfast extra early so we could have a longer walk – but don’t
let it go to your head!’

Andrew laughed. ‘I won’t.’

He and Raye exchanged a genuinely friendly smile. They’d been walking and talking together for almost an hour, although the time had flown by. They’d walked around the hotel grounds
and through part of the copse. Now they stood a couple of metres away from the cliff edge, looking out over the bay. Andrew tilted his head to one side as he studied Raye’s profile. She
really was quite a stunner. If only Kieran and Raoul and some of his other friends could see her. And, more importantly, see him with her. Funny, but when Andrew first saw her, he hadn’t
thought she was anything much. But the closer he got and the longer he looked, the better she appeared!

After a few moments she turned. ‘Do I have something nasty hanging off my nose?’

Andrew laughed, but it quickly faded. ‘Raye, you’re not . . . you’re not what I expected,’ he admitted.

‘Oh please!’ Liam said from beside them. ‘How long have you been practising that line with that sincere look?’

‘What were you expecting?’ asked Raye, oblivious to the eavesdropper who’d been with them since they’d left the hotel.

‘A bimbo airhead,’ Liam provided.

‘Someone who wasn’t as witty and pretty and fun,’ said Andrew.

‘Pass me a bucket someone.’ Liam stuck two fingers down his throat, as he glared at Andrew. What a shame neither Andrew nor Raye could see him. How he would’ve loved to scare
the living daylights out of Mister Fake over there. And those lines he was coming out with, they were straight out of
Cheesy Chat-up Lines
–Volume One!

‘Please, kind sir, you’ll turn my head.’ Raye raised her hands to her cheeks and pretended to simper.

‘You’ll turn my stomach,’ Liam muttered.

‘Maybe we could still keep in touch after I leave tomorrow?’ asked Andrew.

‘I’d like that,’ said Raye.

‘So would I.’

Liam watched them, unable to think of a single thing to say to make himself feel better. In fact, watching the two of them together was making him feel worse. Andrew and Raye had spoken about
school and their friends and their exams and all the everyday, so-called mundane stuff that everyone took for granted. At that moment, Liam would’ve sold his soul to be alive for just one day
like them. Did they have any idea how much he envied them? Of course not. They had no clue about him. They didn’t want one either.

‘We’d better turn back,’ said Raye. ‘Mum and Dad will be wondering where I am.’

‘Maybe we could take another walk this afternoon?’

‘Sorry, I’ve got to help out before dinner,’ said Raye.

‘After dinner then?’

‘I’ll try but I can’t guarantee anything.’

‘I really want to see you again before I leave tomorrow. You’re really something special, Raye.’

‘You’re laying it on just a bit too thick there!’ said Raye dryly.

‘I’ll spread it a bit thinner then,’ smiled Andrew.

‘I’d appreciate it!’

‘So would I!’ said Liam.

Andrew walked at Raye’s side, both of them oblivious to Liam, who was walking on her other side.

‘Raye, don’t trust him,’ Liam tried again. ‘He’s a moron. He’s just setting you up.’

Raye stopped and looked around. ‘You . . . did you hear something?’

‘No,’ Andrew replied.

Raye shook her head and smiled. ‘Just the wind, I expect.’

She started walking again. Andrew fell into step beside her. Liam didn’t. He watched them walk away from him. ‘No, it wasn’t the wind,’ he called after them.

The wind had more of an effect on how things worked than Liam ever did. He rubbed both his hands over his face. What’d he ever done to deserve the existence he had now? When was this
hellish ride he was on going to stop?

Nova chewed her bite of toasted bacon sandwich until it was no more than watery paste in her mouth, before she allowed herself to swallow. Eating this way took for ever but it
made it slightly harder to bring it back up afterwards. Slightly. Food that was only moderately chewed was easier to coax upwards. But Nova had to eat like this because she didn’t want to
vomit up her food, knowing that Liam could be somewhere watching or listening or both. It was humiliating enough knowing that he knew.

Swallowing at last, Nova charily placed the last piece of bacon and toast in her mouth.

‘Nova, are you OK?’ Mum asked gently.

Nova looked up from her plate, where she’d been carefully putting her knife and fork together so that they lined up exactly. Mum was giving her a studied look.

‘I’m fine, Mum.’ Nova immediately let go of the knife and fork.

‘It’s just that . . . you’re so particular with your food these days,’ Mum continued. ‘And Raye and the twins finished their breakfast ages ago.’

Nova shrugged. ‘I’m just a slow eater.’

‘No baked beans or tomatoes today?’ asked Mum.

Nova’s face began to burn. ‘Didn’t fancy them. Can I go now?’

‘Are you going to finish your orange juice?’

Nova looked at the glass. ‘Better not. I mean, no, I’ve had enough.’

‘Off you go then,’ said Mum, gathering up the empty breakfast plate.

Nova stood up and went off in search of Mr Jackman, oblivious to the searching look her mum gave her as she left.

Twenty minutes later she hadn’t found Mr Jackman – but she had found the toilets on the second floor at the back of the hotel. She’d tried so hard to keep her breakfast down
– deep breaths, trying to think of something else, closing her eyes as she walked past any of the toilets – but none of it did any good. It was as if there was a line from the toilet
bowl to her stomach and the moment she ate, the line drew tight and taut and pulled at her until she had to give in and follow where it led. So here she was, back in her favourite toilet cubicle.
And this time it was hard to throw up – and it hurt. She’d had no orange juice to smooth the way back up. The back of her throat felt like someone had taken a grater to it and her
stomach was aching. Was her stomach empty? Without her usual colourful starter, Nova couldn’t tell. She retched again and her whole head was seized by a vice-like spasm so intense that her
hands immediately flew to her temples. Flushing the toilet, Nova put down the lid and sat down. She closed her eyes in despair. She really hadn’t wanted to be sick this morning. But her
little ploys and variations in her eating routine hadn’t made the slightest bit of difference. With a sigh she unlocked the door and went out.

Liam was leaning against the wall, looking straight ahead. At Nova’s gasp, he turned to face her. ‘You OK?’ Stupid question! Nova scowled at him. ‘Yeah, all right. It
was!’ Liam agreed, reading her mind.

‘What’re you doing in here? If watching me heave is the highlight of your day, then you need to get a life!’ Nova could’ve bitten her tongue off. ‘Sorry. I
didn’t mean —’

‘Watching you upchuck is not the be-all and end-all of my existence, no,’ Liam interrupted calmly. ‘Would it do any good to tell you I think you’re nuts?’

‘No!’

‘How about if I asked you to stop before you do some serious damage to yourself?’

‘I’m trying. Now can we drop the subject?’ Nova said brusquely.

Liam shook his head, but he did as she asked. ‘There’s something else that needs sorting out. You need to warn your sister about Andrew.’

‘Who’s Andrew? And why do I need to warn Raye about him?’

‘He’s one of the guests here,’ said Liam. ‘He and his parents arrived yesterday. But Andrew was on the phone betting one of his friends that he can get Raye to snog him
before he leaves tomorrow and you need to tell her.’

‘Why?’

‘Because Andrew’s a low-life creep. You don’t want your sister kissing someone like that, do you?’

‘I don’t care who my sister goes around kissing,’ Nova told him, rinsing out her mouth over one of the wash basins.

‘But Andrew only wants to kiss her for a bet. I tried to warn her yesterday but she wouldn’t listen.’