Skinner's rules

75

The Beachview Hotel was a big rambling building, probably Victorian in origin. They entered through a newly built bar, in which three drinkers sat, each alone at his table. McGuire asked for reception and the barman pointed towards a doorway. ‘Through there, sir and round to your left.’

They followed his directions and found the check-in desk in a comfortably furnished hall. Two elderly ladies sat in chairs in the far corner, watching a large television set which needed an adjustment to its colour control, McGuire rang a brass bell, and seconds later a fresh-faced girl appeared.

‘Can we have an en-suite room for the night, please?’

‘Certainly, sir.’ She smiled at him, a shade knowingly. ‘Double or twin?’ He looked at Maggie.

‘Double,’ she said, returning the girl’s secret smile.

McGuire signed the register and the girl handed him a key. ‘Room 211 sir. Up the stairs and to your left. Dinner’s being served now, until ten o’clock. Breakfast starts at seven-fifteen.’

‘Even on Sunday?’ McGuire sounded surprised.

‘It’s for the golfers. We don’t finish until ten, though, so you’ve no need to rush.

‘The dining-room’s back through the bar, then straight on.’

Room 211 was clean and fresh and the fittings in the en-suite bathroom, though old-fashioned, were high quality, with a six-foot bath. Maggie plugged in the stopper and turned on the taps.

‘I was going to ask for a twin, you know,’ McGuire said, plaintively.

‘Sure you were. We’ve got to keep up the act, anyway. I know you’ll have slept on the floor before now, being as cosmopolitan as you are. Or that bath looks big enough for you.’

She flipped open the catches on the suitcase. ‘Let’s see what Brian’s brought us.’

She looked in. ‘Marks and Spencer best. Shirt, Y-s and socks for you, heavy sweater, skirt, underwear and etceteras for me. What else?

Deodorant, make-up, ok, shaving kit, toothbrushes and paste, shampoo, even a hairdryer. Presumably the SB slush fund paid for this lot.

‘I’m going to grab a quick bath.’

She found a newspaper in the bag, passed it across to him and disappeared into the bathroom. Mario glanced at the front page. He stretched out on the bed. Idly he glanced into the small suitcase, looked again. No nightclothes. He laughed, loudly enough for Maggie to hear through the heavy bathroom door.