Dead Gorgeous (12 page)

‘I’m sorry,’ Liam said. ‘What I mean is, I didn’t mean to judge you. I’m just trying to understand why, that’s all.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Of course it matters.’

They sat in silence as the sun sank lower in the sky.

‘What’s
your
secret?’ Nova asked at last.

‘Secret?’

Nova turned to Liam. ‘You said we both have our little secrets. You know mine. What’s yours?’

‘It can wait.’

‘No, it can’t,’ said Nova. ‘Is it about Mr Jackman?’

Liam nodded.

‘Is he . . .?’

But Liam began to fade out, becoming more and more transparent as Nova glared at him.

‘Good way to avoid answering questions you don’t like!’ she bristled.

‘Isn’t it just!’ Liam’s grinning face was all that was visible before it too began to fade away.

‘How nice to disappear whenever the going gets tough. Were you always this much of a coward?’ asked Nova.

Liam’s grin vanished. The rest of him didn’t, though. His sudden snap back to opaqueness made Nova jump.

‘How dare you? I’m not a coward,’ he said heatedly.

‘No? It’s not the first time you’ve pulled your disappearing act at the first sign of something unpleasant,’ Nova pointed out.

Liam glowered at her with a look on his face Nova had never seen before – and never wanted to see again.

‘So are you going to answer my question now?’

‘What question?’ asked Liam belligerently.

‘Why didn’t you want Mr Jackman to leave the hotel?’

‘H e was planning to do something . . . stupid. Dangerously stupid,’ Liam replied. ‘He was going to explore the underwater caves in the bay to try and find me. And everyone
round here knows that those caves are lethal. N o one is stupid enough to go in them – especially at night – but m — Mr Jackman was going to try. I saw him writing an “if
anything should happen to me . . .” letter.’

‘You’re joking . . .’ Nova stared at him.

‘I wish I was. He was convinced I was here even before he saw me.’ Liam shrugged. ‘But I think catching sight of me has changed his night-swimming plans. Although you
confirming I was there didn’t help get rid of him, which is what I wanted.’

‘He’d already seen you and it was obvious he knew you.’

‘But if you’d kept quiet, he might’ve thought he’d imagined seeing me.’

‘Not very likely,’ said Nova.

‘But still possible.’

‘Why’re you so set against him knowing about you?’

‘I want him to get on with his life,’ Liam said quietly. ‘I don’t want him tying his life down and around me.’

‘Why would he do that?’ Nova thought of something. But it couldn’t be that – could it? ‘Liam, what’s your surname?’

Silence.

‘Liam . . .?’

‘I should’ve guessed you’d figure it out sooner or later,’ Liam sighed.

‘So what is it?’

‘Jackman.’ The whispered word was all that was left of Liam as once more he vanished from sight.

Dad sighed, then quickly glanced up to make sure that his wife was nowhere around. He was in luck. There was only Mr Jackman hovering at the foot of the stairs. Dad glanced
down at the computer on the reception desk again. He’d called up the month’s receipts on his spreadsheet and it did not make heart-warming viewing. The hotel wasn’t in trouble,
but it wasn’t far from it either. They just weren’t getting the bookings they needed to keep afloat. Dad sighed again as he scrolled down the expenditure column. They were still
spending too much and making too little. Cheap holiday packages abroad and the mystery that was English summer weather were combining to choke the life out of him. He had to come up with some way,
some sure-fire way, for the hotel to make money. But what? Dad glanced up again. Mr Jackman was heading straight for him. That had to be a mirage for a start. Money worries were obviously
affecting his brain.

‘Hello, M r Clibbens.’

Dad stared, totally astounded. Mr Jackman was actually talking to him! Flying pigs and blue snow would occur within the hour. ‘Hello, Mr Jackman. Off for a walk, are you?’

‘No. No t this evening. I thought . . . I’d stay in for a change. It really is a beautiful hotel.’

‘Thank you. Yes, it is,’ Dad agreed. What was this man up to? This was the most he’d said to him since his arrival.

‘You must’ve spent a fortune on it,’ said Mr Jackman.

‘Every penny we had.’ Dad hoped the truth sounded more nonchalant than desperate. H e allowed himself a faint satisfied smile. ‘But it was worth it.’

‘Did you have the place completely rebuilt?’

‘No, the structure was still sound. But we had it gutted and completely refurbished. We moved rooms around, split some rooms in two, knocked some together, that sort of thing.’

‘Any hidden staircases or secret passages?’ Mr Jackman joked.

‘Not a one,’ Dad laughed.

‘Shame!’ said Mr Jackman, his smile fading. ‘Secret passages conjure up so many images, don’t they? Like memory mazes. Turn the next corner and catch the long forgotten
scent of a dark-time dream or a daytime nightmare.’

‘If you say so,’ Dad said doubtfully. ‘Are you into that sort of thing then?’

Mr Jackman shrugged. ‘So how long did it take to renovate this place?’

‘Over a year.’

‘It used to be called Manor Hotel, didn’t it?’

‘That’s right. We changed the name to Phoenix Manor – kind of like a new hotel rising out of the ashes of the old one. My wife thought of the name actually. But when she
suggested it, I said, “Karmah, the name’s a good ’un.” And I was right. The name suits the place.’

‘Yes,’ Mr Jackman said, looking around slowly. ‘Yes, it does. Well, I’d best be getting on.’ Mr Jackman turned and headed for the stairs.

Dad studied him, unsure what to make of what had just happened. Maybe the man was finally mellowing out. And not before time either. ‘Oh, just a minute,’ he called after Mr Jackman.
‘Talking of secret passages, there was one – well, sort of one – that was found soon after building work had begun.’

‘Oh yes?’ Mr Jackman was back at the reception desk in a flash. ‘Where was that?’

‘Down in the cellar, but it wasn’t much of a passage. It stopped dead after about fifty or so metres and there was solid rock and earth after that.’

‘Did you try to dig through it?’

Dad raised his eyebrows. ‘Now why on earth would we do that? I wanted to rebuild the hotel, not tunnel under it like a mole.’

‘Where’s the entrance to this passage?’ asked Mr Jackman. ‘Is it still in the cellar? Can I see it?’

‘I’m afraid not. It’s kept permanently locked. We have a state-of-the-art wine cellar and storage facility down there, with some excellent vintages . . .’

But Dad was talking to Mr Jackman’s back. Mr Jackman ran up the stairs, taking them two and three at a time. Well, so much for thinking the man was getting better. He was just as rude as
ever. Dad turned back to his computer screen, then sighed deeply as he remembered what he’d been doing.

Money! How could the hotel make more money?

Nova just couldn’t get comfortable. She tried her back, her front, then both sides – but nothing doing. She switched on her bedside light and tilted her alarm
clock. It was past two in the morning. So much for sleep then. Maybe a glass of milk would help? Yeah, a glass of warm milk instead of something acidic or fizzy. And milk tasted absolutely foul
when it came up again, so she’d be more likely to try and keep it down. And then Liam couldn’t accuse her of not even trying to get better. So milk it was.

Wondering why she cared so much about Liam’s opinion, Nova swung out of bed, pushing her feet into her fluffy purple slippers. She grabbed her matching dressing gown from the bottom of the
bed before heading out of her room. The hotel would certainly be locked up for the night and the last thing she wanted to do was wake anyone up. Th e low-level lighting on the stairs and landing
was more than enough to see by, but it was still strange walking through the hotel when it was this tranquil. During the day Nova sometimes had to fight to hear herself think but this was so
different, it was unnerving. Pulling her dressing gown tighter around her against the cool night air, she carried on down the stairs.

She was on the top step just past the first-floor landing when she heard strange sounds coming from below. Peering over the banister, she strained to see who – or what – was making
the noise. Then she tiptoed down the stairs, feeling strangely nervous, and leaned over the banister. The thuds were coming from the direction of the kitchen. It was probably just Mum or Dad or
the twins up to one of their silly tricks – or Liam. It certainly wouldn’t be anything for her to be afraid of. Liam was a ghost, for heaven’s sake! And if
he
didn’t
freak her out, then nothing could.

Nova crept towards the slightly ajar kitchen door. A strange yellow light bounced on and off around the door. First it was there, then it wasn’t – like a torch being shone around, or
swung around. And then the light was gone. She waited for a few moments but the light didn’t come on again. She pushed open the door. ‘Dad, is that you?’ she whispered.

Nothing.

No way was she going to go stumbling around in the dark. She switched on the light. The door leading down to the cellar was open and Mum always made sure she locked it at night before she went
to bed. Nova walked across to the door and hesitated at the top of the stairs. The bad thing about the cellar was you had to go down the stairs to switch on the light. It was one of those things
Dad was going to fix if he ever got round to it.

‘Mum? Dad? Are you down there?’

Silence. But someone was definitely down there. The hairs standing up on the back of her neck told her that much.

‘Liam . . .’ Nova whispered.

But it couldn’t be Liam. He didn’t need to open doors to get through them.

‘If you don’t come out now, I’m going to get my mum and dad,’ Nova challenged with far more courage than she was feeling.

A torch flicked on immediately. With all the light from it spilling forward, it was hard to tell who was holding it.

‘The light switch is on the wall at the foot of the stairs,’ Nova called out.

Still shrouded in shadow, the person moved towards the switch and moments later the cellar was flooded with light.

‘Mr Jackman!’ Nova frowned.

Nova and Mr Jackman regarded each other, neither of them moving, neither of them even blinking.

‘What’re you doing down there?’ asked Nova, noting the torch in his hand.

‘I was looking for something.’

‘What?’

Mr Jackman didn’t answer.

‘Did you find it?’ asked Nova.

‘Not yet.’

‘Maybe I can help you look for it?’ Nova and Mr Jackman still didn’t take their eyes off each other. It was as if they were saying one thing and talking about something
entirely different – and they both knew it.

‘I think you’ve found it. . . or should I say him, already.’

‘You were looking for Liam in the cellar?’ Nova wasn’t quite sure she understood.

‘Sort of,’ said Mr Jackman.

‘I’m not with you.’

Mr Jackman scrutinized Nova before speaking. ‘I’m looking for an entrance to the tunnels your dad was telling me about earlier.’

‘The tunnels? Dad had the entrance padlocked ages ago,’ said Nova. ‘And there was just one tunnel, not tunnels plural.’

‘I was talking to Miss Eve earlier and she said there’s supposed to be a whole network of tunnels running under this hotel and the grounds,’ said Mr Jackman. ‘If your
dad and the builders only found one, then I think there must’ve been some kind of collapse or cave-in which blocked off access to the rest. And I need to find them.’

‘Did you find the entrance in the cellar then?’

‘Not yet. It’s a big cellar and I’d only just started looking when you arrived.’

‘But why? What’s so special about the tunnels?’

‘It’s the only place Liam can be,’ Mr Jackman said after a long pause.

‘What’re you talking about? Liam’s all over the place. Believe me, I know. Nothing happens in this hotel without him knowing about it.’

‘I’m talking about his . . . body.’

An ice-cold shiver shot up through Nova’s body. Horrified, she stared at Mr Jackman. She’d never once thought about that. She’d never even considered the possibility that
Liam’s body was still somewhere in or around the hotel.

‘I think that’s why he’s still at this hotel, why he can’t leave,’ said Mr Jackman.

‘Who told you he couldn’t leave?’ asked Nova.

‘Oh, come on. It’s obvious. Why would he hang around this hotel otherwise?’

‘Thank you,’ Nova bristled.

‘I’m not insulting your hotel. But if you had the choice, would you spend eternity in this place?’ asked Mr Jackman.

Nova didn’t answer. It was only now that the full impact of what was going on between Mr Jackman and Liam hit Nova. Mr Jackman was obviously Liam’s dad. It explained so much. But
wait a second . . . he couldn’t be Liam’s dad, could he? Liam was at least fifteen or sixteen and Mr Jackman didn’t look like he was even thirty yet – not that Nova was any
good at guessing adults’ ages. Maybe Mr Jackman was really old but looked very good for his age?

‘How did you know he’d be here in the first place?’ asked Nova.

‘I didn’t. But this used to be one of his favourite places before your family took it over. I knew he wouldn’t just disappear for all these years without ever trying to get in
touch with me. So that meant only one thing.’

‘That he’d died?’ Nova whispered.

Mr Jackman nodded, his expression grim. ‘That he’d died. So I’ve spent the last few years trying to find out what happened to him. If I could just find him and make sure he has
a decent burial, then he might be able to rest in peace.’

‘Dad’s not going to let you go digging up his cellar and his gardens,’ said Nova.

‘Then you’ll have to get Liam to tell me exactly where his body is,’ argued Mr Jackman.

‘I’ll ask him. That doesn’t mean he’ll tell me,’ Nova pointed out. ‘I know . . . I know you’re his dad but Liam really wants you to leave.’