An Unwanted Guest

‘Welcome,’ he says. ‘I’m James Harwood, the owner of the hotel. And the chef.’ He adds, ‘And don’t worry, I promise we will take very good care of you, whatever the weather.’

David sizes him up. He has a confident air, someone who is certain he can make good on his promise. He’s obviously been very successful with this hotel; he’s proud of his establishment, and it shows. He chats with them for a moment and returns to his kitchen.

David settles back in his chair, once again looking forward to his weekend.

Lauren watches Ian charm the man sitting by the fire. Ian can get on with anyone. He’s already discovered that David is a criminal defence attorney from New York City. Now he’s trying to draw him out about some of his cases.

‘What was the most interesting case you ever worked on?’ Ian asks curiously.

‘They’re all interesting,’ the attorney says, with a slightly evasive smile.

‘Are there any we might have read about in the papers?’ Lauren asks.

‘Possibly.’

At that moment she senses someone coming down the staircase and glances upwards, over her shoulder. She sees that it’s Gwen and Riley. She catches the attorney watching them as they descend. The two women make their way over to them and sit down together on a sofa across from the fire. Gwen gives them a tentative smile; Riley doesn’t look at anyone. But Bradley is there with the drinks, creating a useful distraction. They each ask for a glass of merlot and fall silent.

Gwen looks quite different without her ski hat and puffy winter jacket, Lauren thinks. She’s petite and slim, and her shiny black hair makes a striking contrast to her creamy white skin. Riley is taller, and her blonde hair falls limply to her shoulders. She looks unhealthy next to Gwen.

Ian won’t let it go with David, the attorney. ‘Have you defended any murderers?’ he asks. His enthusiasm finally brings a reluctant smile to the attorney’s face.

‘Yes, I have.’ He swirls his drink around in his glass. ‘Many.’

‘Come on, tell us!’

‘Never mind him,’ Lauren interjects. ‘I think he watches too many crime shows.’

‘It’s not always like it is on TV,’ the attorney says.

‘What do you mean?’ Lauren asks, noting his downturned mouth.

He shrugs. ‘On TV, justice is usually served. It doesn’t always work out that way in real life.’

‘You mean – as a defence attorney – you’re too good at your job?’ Ian suggests, and they all laugh.

Lauren can hear the two women murmuring now, but she can’t quite hear what they are saying. They’re keeping their voices low.

‘I do my best,’ the attorney says.

‘How do you do it?’ Lauren asks him. ‘How do you reconcile what you do with your conscience – defending someone you know might be guilty of something horrible?’ Then she adds hastily, ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to judge.’

David Paley looks down at his almost empty glass and thinks about how to answer. It’s a question he’s been asked many times. He’s been very successful as a defence attorney. As a human being – he’s not so sure. His partners at the firm have gently suggested that he take some time off, perhaps travel. But he has no one to travel with. He no longer has a wife. And while travelling the world might distract him for a while, it won’t mend the emptiness in his soul. Spending the better part of his career successfully defending murderers has definitely taken its toll. But he has his answer to Lauren’s question ready. He knows what to say – he doesn’t necessarily have to believe it.

‘I have a job to do as a defence attorney. Under our legal system, everyone is presumed innocent until proven guilty. My job is to represent any accused to the best of my ability.’ He adds, ‘If attorneys could simply refuse to represent someone because of their own squeamishness, or conscience …’

She is listening to him intently.

He shrugs. ‘Well, without the defence attorney, the system wouldn’t work.’ He takes a large swallow of his drink. It all sounds so good. ‘You have to look at the bigger picture,’ he adds. He doesn’t tell them how difficult that can be.

He realizes now that the two women sitting a bit further away on the sofa are both watching him, listening. He finds the dark-haired one quietly attractive. She looks at him with intelligent, appraising eyes. He would like to talk to her. Perhaps the weekend will turn out to be distracting, after all.

Gwen looks at the attorney sitting by the fire. He’s older than she is, perhaps forty or so; his short dark hair is beginning to grey at the temples. He has a good face – attractive and kind – and a sort of rueful smile that appeals to her. She likes the sound of his voice, its timbre – it carries without effort, probably from years of speaking in court. He has a confidence, an ease about himself that she finds attractive. She’s a modern young woman. She considers herself a feminist. But she has never been particularly sure of herself; it’s a quality that she admires – even envies – in others. She wants to be strong and independent, like Riley. Well, like Riley used to be. She glances at her friend. But just look where that got her.

Beside her, Riley guzzles her first glass of wine like water on a hot day. Or as if she were drinking shots with the boys. She was always an accomplished drinker. Gwen’s own drink is barely touched, and now she takes a big gulp. Riley seems to emerge from her semi-catatonic state to motion to the young man with the bar cart and says, ‘May I have another?’

‘Of course,’ he says, and pours her another glass.

‘Thank you,’ Riley says. And chugs it right back. Now everyone is silent, watching her, and Gwen is uneasy and embarrassed. She doesn’t want Riley to draw attention to herself. She also doesn’t want her to get drunk; she has no idea what she will do, what she will be like. Riley always used to be a fun drunk, a party girl, but now Gwen doesn’t know what to expect. She’s so different since she came back from Afghanistan this time. Sometimes she’s withdrawn, and just stares at nothing. Other times she’s irritable and even a bit aggressive. And her occasional displays of nervous energy – her fidgeting, the way her eyes dart around constantly – it’s already beginning to get on Gwen’s nerves. Inadvertently, she catches the attorney’s eye and quickly looks away.

She’s already regretting suggesting this weekend away. Her car is sitting in a ditch miles from here. The tow company said they wouldn’t be able to fetch it until the morning. By then it will probably be so buried that they won’t be able to find it.

She leans in closer to Riley and whispers, ‘Maybe you should slow down.’

Chapter Four

DANA SLIPS OUT from under the covers, slapping Matthew’s hand away as he reaches for her. She smiles at him. ‘We should go down. Aren’t you hungry?’

‘Now that you mention it,’ he says cheerfully, and gets out of the bed.

She gets dressed quickly in a simple but elegantly cut dress. Everything she wears flatters her. Genetics has been kind to her, and she now has the money to make the most of what she’s been given.

Matthew is a warm, generous man, and she’s very much in love with him. Of course, the money doesn’t hurt. She thinks often of how lucky she is, of how awful it must be for most women – to marry and have children on a budget.

She’s well aware that she and Matthew have a charmed life. She’s not going to apologize for it. But she’s certainly not going to rub anyone’s nose in it, either. She knows what it’s like to want – to want desperately – things that you can’t have. To anyone who doesn’t know who Matthew is, they just come across as a well-heeled, successful couple. But Matthew is from money, and lots of it.

‘Ready?’ he asks, as she puts in her second earring. She’s sitting at the antique dressing table, looking at him in the mirror as he stands behind her. It feels very romantic.

‘Why don’t ladies have dressing tables like this any more?’ she asks.