The Dinner Guest B Walter (readict books TXT) 📖

‘I think so,’ I said. I nodded towards our room, pointedly, and he got the message. Once we were inside with the door safely closed, I replied properly. ‘He told me a bit more of what happened.’

Matthew looked worried. ‘OK. So … what did he say?’

‘He said Rachel was standing over him for quite some time.’

His face became puzzled. ‘Then why did he scream and say it made him jump?’

‘He thought he was dreaming at first, I think. Then when the figure in the room came over to his bed and started stroking his hair, he then woke up properly. It’s enough to freak anyone out.’

Matthew nodded, slowly. He looked thoughtful, then said, ‘I think I should go and check on him.’ He went to move past me, but I held him still.

‘Don’t. He’s going back to sleep. I really think it would be best to just let him … I don’t know, forget about it. Just for tonight. Then tomorrow we’ll sort things out properly.’

This earned me a quizzical look. ‘Meaning…?’

‘Well, sending Rachel home for a start.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m not sure we could do that, since she’s not exactly our guest, is she?’

I thought about this. He was right of course, although her presence did depend on us tolerating her. ‘Perhaps we could talk to Meryl,’ I said, thinking out loud.

Matthew nodded. ‘We can do that. Calmly.’

I frowned, offended. ‘Don’t say that. I’m not about to start shouting at her or anything.’

Matthew held his hands up. ‘I know, I know, I just want to make sure we don’t upset her. I think I should talk to her.’

‘She’s my godmother!’

Matthew sighed and walked away from me over to the table at the end of the room. I saw him stop and look around. ‘Where’s my phone?’

He didn’t seem too worried at first, but then after checking under the desk and the armchair in the corner, I saw his movements become quicker. ‘It was definitely here; I put it on charge before we went to bed.’

I felt anxiety start to spread through me. In the commotion, I’d just let go of the device and hadn’t noticed where it had gone. It took us a good five minutes until eventually, after we’d stripped the bed, we found it tangled up in one of the duvet’s folds.

‘How on earth did it get in there?’ he said, more to the air than to me, although I was growing more and more concerned at how I didn’t really have an answer.

‘Maybe we knocked it off the table when we ran out of the room?’ I said, realising how nonsensical it sounded after it left my mouth.

‘That’s not possible,’ he said, staring at it in his hand as if it were about to start talking to him and explaining its sudden ability to fly.

‘Then either this place is haunted, or your memory isn’t as good as you think it is.’

He didn’t seem happy to drop it, but to my relief he eventually got back into bed and we turned off the light.

Something was niggling at me and I didn’t feel I could let the evening end without mentioning it. ‘It is possible … that Rachel could be a paedophile. I know it’s rarer in women, or at least I assume it is. But it’s possible.’

I hadn’t expected this to be greeted warmly from Matthew, and what he said next surprised me. ‘It crossed my mind … but it doesn’t really fit, does it? He’s almost at the age of consent; it’s not like he’s a little child.’

‘It’s still illegal,’ I said. ‘Both here in the US, and back at home, even if he isn’t exactly a virgin, as we know from his Kensington adventures – something you seemed way more worried about.’

‘I know,’ he said, letting out a sigh. ‘I’m not excusing it. Let’s just … talk about it in the morning.’ He turned over onto his side, signalling the end of the discussion.

It took me a long time to fall asleep and, judging by the tossing and turning from Matthew, rest didn’t come easy for him either.

Chapter Twenty-Seven Charlie

Three days after the murder

I tell the detectives what happened that night in Long Island, keeping details as close as I can to the truth, whilst taking care to leave Titus out of the story. In his place, I put Matthew as the unclothed male in question, backing away from Rachel’s midnight visitation.

‘And how did Rachel know you wouldn’t have been in the room with Matthew?’ DI Okonjo asks, still writing in her notebook.

‘I’d mentioned I was going for a run, earlier in the evening before dinner. I encouraged Matthew to join me but he said he wanted an early night.’

DI Okonjo doesn’t look convinced. ‘Still seems strange she’d take that risk, though. I mean, that’s a pretty late run.’

I shrug. ‘Well, she probably saw me leave. Waited for her chance.’

‘Her chance to pounce.’ DS Stimson nods, apparently familiar with this kind of situation, which earns him a disapproving glance from his superior.

‘Did your parents and Rachel’s employer Meryl take against her after this … situation? I’m presuming you told them.’

A slow, icy trickle feels like it’s making its way down my back. This was something I hadn’t considered how to deal with. To be honest, I’d barely considered anything properly.

‘No. We were going to the next day. Matthew and I … we talked about it, once Rachel had gone back to her room. But we decided not to say anything. Just to keep an eye on her. And to be fair on her, after that she didn’t try anything again.’

DI Okonjo raises an eyebrow. ‘We’re going to speak to Meryl later,’ she says. ‘Get her take on the whole thing. She was understandably in shock when we first spoke to her, so it would be good to check over these details. See if anything new comes to her.’

I don’t know if the detective sees the