Married In A Moment. Jessica Steele
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small amount of luggage.
‘What are we doing?’ she asked, her wits seeming to be numb.
‘I’ve booked a couple of rooms here,’ he replied. He had taken care of her accommodation too, apparently, and he was already turning to go into the hotel.
‘I want to go to...’ She wanted to say Justine’s name, but was caught out by an emotional moment and could not. ‘The other hotel.’
‘So do I—we’ll check in first,’ he decreed, and Ellena realised, as she followed him into the smart hotel and he summoned someone in authority, that Gideon Langford, once he’d had an update on the situation, had always intended to go and check out the other hotel whether she went with him or not.
Ellena stood by him aware that he, or someone in his employ, must have phoned ahead so they’d have somewhere to stay. The local police had been informed that their plane had arrived, apparently, and they, with the hotel manager, adjourned to a private room—but only to hear that there were no new developments, that everything was as bleak as had been forecast. A well-rehearsed plan had been put into operation, with rescue teams combing the area—they had reported back that there was absolutely no chance of anyone caught in that avalanche surviving.
Ellena strove valiantly for control. She could not believe it, would not believe it. Nor, apparently, would Gideon Langford. Stiffly he thanked everyone for their efforts and, flicking a glance to where Ellena stood dry-eyed and taut with control, said. ‘And now, Miss Spencer and I would like to see where our relatives were staying.’
She hated that word ‘were’, the past tense, even if logic said loudly and clearly that since Justine and Kit were not around to occupy their hotel accommodation, ‘were’ very clearly fitted.
They left their luggage to be taken up to their rooms, and drove away from their hotel in the same car in which they had arrived. This time, though, with a police escort. The reason was explained—and also why they were booked into a different hotel—when they got to the place where Kit and Justine had been staying. Regardless of the lateness of the hour and the risk of frostbite, some of the press, having been blocked at the small airport, were keen to have an interview with the missing man’s brother.
Ellena had been aware that Gideon Langford was well known. How well known was borne out by the fact that he knew some of the newsmen by their first names. ‘You know as much as I do, John,’ he answered one reporter, while at the same time ushering Ellena inside the hotel.
‘Who’s the lady?’ someone else asked—they did not get a reply.
The hotel manager showed them up to the room which Kit and Justine had used. ‘I have not had the room disturbed,’ the Austrian assured them, and, receiving their polite thanks, sensitively went out, closing the door behind him.
Only then, alone with Gideon Langford, did it dawn on Ellena, having been in his company for some hours now, how little conversation had passed between them.
Nor did she feel like talking then. She stared round the twin-bedded compact room, imagined she could hear Justine and Kit’s laughter, the way they had been laughing that last Saturday—abruptly she blanked her mind off, and became aware of Gideon Langford opening drawers and poking about in wardrobes.
‘There are a few clothes here—but. no suitcases,’ he stated matter-of-factly.
Ellena went over to the open wardrobe and, standing next to him, observed a couple of ancient anoraks which she recognised as belonging to Kit and Justine.
‘M-my sister was going to buy new,’ she informed him chokily. ‘She was—is—oh, dammit...’ Her voice broke; she turned from him, determined to gain control. Justine wasn’t dead, she wasn’t, and she wasn’t going to cry. ‘Justine is going to buy a whole new wardrobe,’ she made herself continue.
She guessed Gideon was having a hard time with his emotions as well, when he retorted shortly, ‘Kit didn’t have any money!’
Even so, that annoyed her. It gave her the stiffening she needed, anyhow, as she retorted straight back: ‘Then perhaps it’s just as well Justine had her own money—she probably paid for this trip.’ Immediately the acid words were out she felt contrite. She flicked a glance at him, saw he didn’t seem to view her as his favourite person, and at once she apologised, ‘I’m sorry, Mr Langford, I’m trying so hard not to go to pieces. I d-didn’t mean to give you the rough end of it.’
Whether he accepted her apology she had no idea, for he just stood and stared at her from those steady slate-grey eyes. But she rather guessed she had been forgiven when, turning from her, he grunted, ‘Gideon.’
She felt she should curtsy, then wondered if stress had made her light-headed. But she forgot everything save Justine when she spied in one of the open drawers a sweater she had lent her one time.
‘No. definitely no suitcases,’ Gideon announced, sounding positive.
‘If you’re thinking that they may have packed up and left—and you can’t wish it any more than I—I have to tell you, Justine in the main is so happy-go-lucky. She planned to buy anything she needed here—she’s just as likely to have arrived without luggage.’
‘Or followed Kit’s example and packed anything she might have thought of in a plastic carrier,’ he documented, adding, ‘As you remarked, a pair well met.’
They stayed another few minutes in the room but there were no more clues to be picked up; only a few toiletries were left in the bathroom. Ellena could feel her emotions on the brink of spilling over, and had not Gideon suggested they leave she would have made the suggestion herself.
They had chance of a private word with the hotelier, who promised he would contact them instantly, should his guests return. Then, again running the gauntlet of a couple of hardy pressmen, they returned to their own hotel.
Gideon Langford had a room opposite hers and, having escorted her up in the lift, he went into her room with her. ‘Will you be all right here?’ he enquired courteously.
‘Yes, thank you,’ she replied politely.
He didn’t leave straight away, but stayed to suggest, ‘You’ll want to phone your parents.’
‘My parents are dead,’ she answered tonelessly.
‘You’re on your own?’
‘No,’ she denied. No way was she ready to accept that Justine wasn’t coming back.
‘You live with someone?’ he asked sharply, and she just knew he meant some man.
‘I live alone,’ she responded curtly.
‘Goodnight!’ Gideon Langford turned away from her, obviously fed up.
‘I’m sorry,’ she found herself apologising. ‘I’m—on edge.’
He halted at the door and turned round, relenting, ‘We both are.’ And then proceeded to instruct, ‘Try and get some rest. Have anything you need brought to your room. With a few pressmen around, you’d better stay where you are until I come for you.’ He made to leave, thought for a moment, and then said, ‘I may be out some time tomorrow. I’ll contact you as soon as I get back.’
‘Where are you going?’
He hesitated, but then did her the courtesy of being honest with her. ‘Out to the avalanche site.’
‘I’m coming with you,’ she said at once, no please or thank you.
‘I don’t think—’
‘I’m coming!’ she butted in. If he thought she was going to stay here while he went there—where Justine and Kit might be—he could think again!
He shrugged, ‘Suit yourself,’ and left her.
Ellena supposed she must have slept at some time—it didn’t feel like it. She was up at six, showered and dressed and waiting for Gideon Langford’s