Ursula's Secret by Mairi Wilson Read Free Book Online Page A

been mopping up her spilt tea. There’d been what looked like old letters and diary extracts in that, which had intrigued her. Not her usual type of holiday reading, it had to be said, but then this wasn’t her usual type of holiday. In fact, it wasn’t a holiday at all, as she’d pointed out to Danny, perhaps a little too emphatically. She still felt bad about that conversation. And the ashes. How could she have done that? Her mother, for goodness’ sake. She couldn’t, wouldn’t think about it. It was like peering over the lip of a deep, dark well and she had no idea what lay at the bottom of it. It frightened her, made her unspeakably sad.
    Right now, though, she’d enjoy the moment as best she could. She was delighted to find herself on a wide balcony looking out over a central courtyard, lit softly by lanterns lining the two paths that crossed it like a saltire. Her room, on the upper of two storeys, opened on to one side of this quadrangle, which in turn was open to a purple-blue sky, studded with stars like tiny spotlights and adorned with a sliver of crescent moon dangling over the roof of the wing opposite her.
    Wall lamps splashed yellow pools of light over the cane chairs and coffee tables outside each room, mahogany floorboards gleamed, and potted palms and other plants she didn’t yet recognise cast living shadows against the plain white walls adorned with occasional paintings of African landscapes. Her footsteps echoed as she walked towards one of the two staircases that swept down from either side of the rectangle, then crossed the patio to make her way back to the reception area to ask for directions to the restaurant.
    “Ah, Miss Shaw,” the sharply dressed receptionist greeted her as she approached the desk. “We have a message for you.”
    “Really?”
    “It just arrived. We were told not to disturb you but to wait until you came down.”
    “Thank you.” Lexy took the proffered envelope, surprised to see her name handwritten in black ink across its centre. She turned it over, but there was nothing on the reverse to indicate its sender.
    “Are you having dinner, Miss Shaw? Barney can show you to the restaurant.”
    A flick of the receptionist’s forefinger summoned a short teenager, resplendent in a bellhop’s uniform, to her side.
    “Please, follow me, Miss.” Lexy followed the boy across the lobby towards a gentle hum of conversation and the muffled sound of piano music playing in the background. He stood back to let her through to the restaurant ahead of him, to the greeting area where a magnificent ornate lectern guarded access to the tables. Double doors opened on to a bar on her right where the pianist’s bowed head was just visible beneath the slope of the grand piano’s lid. The few occupants of the room ignored him, more interested in each other, or their cocktails at least, than in the music: a lone drinker propping up the bar, a couple of tables taken by elderly, sun-leathered couples, a group of women in cocktail dresses giggling in armchairs by the window. Her mind still on the letter she held in her hands, she stopped in surprise as the lone drinker raised a hand to wave at her, then she lurched forward, dropping the letter as Barney stumbled into her back.
    “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Lexy said, embarrassed, colliding with the boy again as they both reached for the letter at the same time. “Oh!” She rubbed her forehead, feeling herself blush at the sound of laughter from the bar, surely the lone drinker, amused at the effect he’d had on her.
    “My fault, Miss Shaw. Allow me.” The boy ducked down, but not before Lexy saw a flash of white teeth as his mouth split into a grin. And she was sure he winked as he handed the letter back to her and ushered her forward again, up to the lectern and out of sight of the bar.
    “Sorry – jet lag,” she offered by way of excuse, although she doubted the small time difference really made it a very good one. “Thank