False Picture (23 page)

Bea laid the restaurant bill on the table, with a pen. ‘Write down your name and address on the back of my bill, and I'll fulfil my part of the bargain.'

He tapped on the table, eyes switching backwards and forwards. Bea held her breath. Charlotte gave a little squeak, napkin to mouth.

Eventually Mr Van decided to do as she asked. She watched while he wrote down the name of one of the town's most expensive hotels. Of course, he wouldn't give her his real name and address. He threw the pen down, grumbling, ‘This is going to cost me extra, staying over for two nights. I am not best pleased.'

‘Oh, don't be a cry-baby,' said Bea, pocketing the bill. ‘Come, girls, I've settled the bill, so we can leave now. I'll get the mâitre d' to call a taxi for us, in case Herman's lurking outside.'

Back at the hotel, Bea thought she'd very much like to lie down and die, but was forced to revise her plan when Charlotte scuttled ahead to the girls' room and dashed in, leaving the door open behind her. Retching sounds came from the bathroom.

Maggie was disgusted. ‘She was stuffing her face with junk food all through the car journey here. No wonder she's being sick.'

Charlotte appeared in the doorway, wiping her face with a flannel. Her skin glistened, and she was crying. ‘Maggie, you are a nasty, horrid … I can't think of words bad enough to describe you. The doctors say I've got irritable bowel syndrome. Any stress will set it off, and I've had far too much stress today. Oh …!' She dashed back into the bathroom.

‘Dear me,' said Bea, feeling limp and quite unequal to getting the pair of them to kiss and make up. ‘Maggie, will you do something for me, dear? Pack all the stolen goods back into their containers and bring them to me in my room? I rather think a little lie-down is indicated.'

‘You were very brave.' Maggie threw off her jacket and began to reassemble the goods. ‘But may I say that I was a bit surprised at—'

‘Hush, child,' said Bea, putting her finger to her lips. ‘Trust me. Do as I say, and we'll all get home in one piece.'

Maggie shot a look at the half-open door to the bathroom, and nodded. ‘Give me five minutes.'

Bea unlocked the door to her own room and shut it behind her. She didn't bother to switch on the lights, but went to the window and leaned on the sill, looking down past the brightly flaring petunias in the window boxes, down and down to the canal where some ducks were squabbling, giving a wide berth to a stately swan. It was a time of day that she loved. Distant bells chimed the half-hour. The sinking sun lit flares of colour across the towers and turrets of the city.

Had she done the right thing? Tangling with evil was not something a sixty-plus widow needed to be doing. If only Hamilton were still alive … she cut off that thought. Tried to think of nothing at all.

There was a knock on the door and Maggie entered with the coffee set box and the tin which once contained shortbread. She hesitated, seeing that Bea didn't turn around to greet her. ‘You must be tired, poor thing,' she said. She put the boxes on the big bed and left the room, taking such care to shut the door quietly that it banged into place. Bea was startled into a laugh. Trust Maggie to make a noise even when she didn't mean to.

Now, should she have a shower or indulge in a bath?

Ah. A knock at the door. Maggie had returned, half laughing and half dismayed. ‘I'm sorry, Mrs Abbot, but Charlotte won't let me back into our room. I don't quite know what to do.'

‘You upset her.'

Maggie shrugged. ‘Chalk and cheese. Sharing with her was never going to be a permanent option. Can I doss down with you?'

‘I'll speak to her.' Bea told herself that this difficult day would end sometime or other, and that tomorrow she'd look back on it and smile. She knocked on the door of the other room, said she was alone and worried about Charlotte, and might she come in?

Charlotte opened the door and let Bea in once she saw Maggie wasn't with her. Charlotte's face was the colour of uncooked pastry; she was definitely unwell.

Bea asked, ‘Can I get you anything? Are you drinking plenty of water?'

‘Nothing works when it's this bad. Just keep that cow Maggie away from me, right? All I want is a bit of peace and quiet and …' Charlotte dissolved into tears again. At this rate she'd be dehydrated from more causes than one.

‘All right,' said Bea. ‘I'll take Maggie's things next door. She can sleep with me tonight, and tomorrow we'll get you back home so that you can put all this behind you.' She went into the bathroom. ‘Is this Maggie's toiletbag? Yes? And the suitcase she's using?'

‘To make matters worse,' sobbed Charlotte, ‘I can't even get through to Liam's phone now.'

‘You poor thing,' said Bea, torn between wanting to slap the girl, and give her a comforting hug.

‘Oh …!' Charlotte flung herself past Bea into the bathroom again.

Bea sighed, collected what she thought Maggie needed and returned to her own room. Maggie turned away from the window, where she'd been watching dusk settle over the city. Maggie had been crying, too, but had herself more or less under control.

‘I longed to see this place, and it is beautiful, of course. But what with Zander letting me down and … everything … I'll be glad never to see it again.'

Bea switched on the lights and put a comforting arm around Maggie's shoulder. ‘It's a beautiful city and one day you'll be glad to come back again, with another man, perhaps. I've been here many times with Hamilton and always loved it. Of course this time it's different, but I'll come back again, perhaps next spring, to buy some more clothes.' She thought with regret of the outfit she'd tried on that morning. If only Charlotte had made her appearance ten minutes later!

‘It's different for you. You had Hamilton for company.'

‘For thirty-five, nearly thirty-six years. Not long enough.' She straightened her shoulders. ‘Go and have a good long shower or a bath, or whatever. We'll rescue the rest of your things in the morning.'

Maggie went into the bathroom and turned on the taps. Soon Bea heard her singing. Of course. Maggie needed noise to make sure she was alive. Maggie probably snored. Ouch! Well, it couldn't be helped. Hamilton had purred in his sleep, right up to his last few nights when he'd been silent, sedated with morphine to kill the pain. Well, best not to think about that.

Bea emptied the rest of her things from her overnight case – Hamilton's overnight case – and set to work.

Tuesday morning

The following morning everything went according to plan. Not Mr Van's plan, but Bea's. She'd spent some time wondering what she would do in Mr Van's place, and had come to the conclusion that he'd given in far too easily at the restaurant. Bea thought he'd set Herman to watch that she didn't leave the hotel during the night and when she did leave, she'd be followed and the case wrenched from her before she could get to the station.

So she took certain precautions.

She rose before Maggie, showered, dressed and popped her overnight things into the case Maggie was using. Her wrist ached, but not intolerably. After she'd roused Maggie, she knocked on Charlotte's door. The girl had slept badly, if at all. She looked dreadful, with greenish shadows under her eyes and reddened lids. The first thing she said was, ‘I don't want any breakfast.' The second was, ‘I don't think I'm up to driving all that way.'

‘Shall I get the hotel people to call the doctor for you?'

‘Don't be stupid. I'm not that ill. I'll be all right when I get back home.'

‘I came by train but I could go back with you to help with the driving, if you like?'

‘I suppose that would be best.'

Bea told herself that it was best to forget Charlotte's rudeness, and concentrate on how ill the child looked. ‘I'll get the hotel to bring you up something to drink while Maggie and I go down to breakfast.'

‘I don't want anything.'

Bea curbed her frustration. ‘Very well. Now I've packed already. I'll take my overnight bag to the station after we've had breakfast, which will give you and Maggie time to finish up here. All right?'

‘I suppose so.'

Bea went down to breakfast with Maggie, whose appetite was undimmed by their plight. Maggie relished every part of the Continental breakfast supplied, from the different types of ham and cheese to the selection of freshly baked rolls, the hard-boiled eggs, the cereals, the juices and the array of pâtés and jams provided. Bea could only manage one croissant and a cup of coffee.

Bea explained to Maggie that she'd take her bag to the station straight away, so would Maggie get Charlotte and all their luggage down to the foyer ready to leave in an hour's time. Maggie nodded and helped herself to a third plateful.

Paying the bill for the three of them, Bea explained to Erik that she was very nervous after that awful man had tried to get in to see the girls. Now one of the girls was really quite poorly and Bea had to get them back to London straight away, but she had various errands still to do.

For one thing, she'd been supposed to meet up with an old friend to return an overnight bag that she'd borrowed on her last visit, and she wanted to leave that in the left luggage place at the station and post the code to her. Could Erik lend her a piece of paper and a stout envelope for this, and did he know of a reliable taxi driver, who could help her get around?

Erik nodded. ‘You need an extra big taxi driver, maybe?'

‘Perhaps two?' Bea suggested. ‘One to park his taxi and the other to go with me into the station to lodge the bag, and then help me post the letter? I'd pay whatever they ask.'

Erik reached for the phone.

By the time Bea had collected the bag from her room, a taxi was waiting for her outside the hotel with two large men inside. Both were wearing dark glasses and both were grinning. They weren't taking her fears seriously. After all, Bruges was a very safe place to live. On the other hand, she was offering them double their usual fares for squiring her around and her antics would provide them with a fine tale to tell their friends about in the bar that night.

They shook hands with Bea, introducing themselves as Jan and Dirk. Jan took the bag from Bea, commented on how heavy it was, and ushered her into the back seat. The radio was blasting out the news from a local station. As Jan got into the passenger seat, Bea thought she glimpsed a large dark car parked under the trees by the side of the canal. And yes, it moved off after her.

She tensed and then relaxed. Mr Van couldn't do anything to her with two such stalwart men to look after her.

‘We protect you from the bad guys,' boasted Dirk, the larger of the two men and also the driver.

‘I'm very grateful,' said Bea. And indeed she was. The large dark car followed them round the corner. There was a complex system of one-way streets on this side of Bruges and the car clung to their bumper all the way to the ring road, and turned with them on the way to the station.

Dirk stiffened, losing his smile. He muted the sound of the radio, but said nothing till they parked outside the station. The dark car pulled up behind them. As Bea made to get out, he held up his hand. ‘One moment, please.'

He set the car in motion again, did a U-turn and regained the main road via the traffic lights. The dark car cut across several others to close up behind them. Dirk conferred with Jan in Flemish, as he drove the taxi neatly round to the far side of the station, where there was a large car park. He found a slot and eased the taxi into it. The large dark car cruised in behind them but could find no place to stop nearby.

Jan said, ‘That car is following us, yes?'

Bea nodded. The driver's window had been wound down, and she'd had a good look at the two men inside; Herman and Mr Van. Her throat constricted.

‘Dutch plates,' observed Dirk.

Bea said, ‘Yesterday, the driver of that car tried to get into the hotel room occupied by two young girls, friends of mine. He tried to get me into the same car. Later his passenger forced himself on us at the restaurant and threatened us. The girls were very upset.'

Jan said, ‘There was a programme on the television the other night about men taking girls for the sex trade. Your two girls are pretty, no? And you yourself might be appealing to a certain type of man.'

At the thought of a man finding her a sex object at her age, Bea was seized by a painful desire to scream with laughter. She fought it off, just. In a voice that wobbled, she said, ‘Maggie is very attractive, but her friend is badly dressed and wears glasses.'

Dirk mused, ‘My granny used to say you don't look at the mantelpiece while poking the fire.'

Jan thought this might be too coarse a saying for a lady passenger. ‘Hrrm,' he said. ‘Well, this is no joke.'

Bea reassured him. ‘They won't try anything with you two around.'

Dirk took charge. ‘We both come in with you. Let me carry the bag. Is too heavy for you.'

Bea was glad that they had both volunteered to accompany her because, as they walked along the busy central passage between the platforms, she caught sight of Herman dodging his way through the crowd, trying to catch up with them. Perhaps he'd left Mr Van to park the car?

The Left Luggage lockers were off the concourse in a room at the front of the station. Bea turned in the doorway, unzipping the bag and holding it up so that Herman could see the shortbread tin and the box which had once contained a coffee set. She saw his eyes focus on them as she did up the zip again.

She asked Jan and Dirk to stand behind her to prevent Herman from seeing exactly which locker she was going to use. She heaved the bag inside and slammed the door shut, testing the lock. So far, so good. She craned her neck around Jan to see if Herman was indeed watching her – which he was. She needed him to see that she was fulfilling her part of the bargain to the letter, so she asked Jan to move one pace to her left, so that Herman could watch her put the code for the locker into the pre-addressed envelope.