Chapter 17

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Two weeks of uninterrupted sunshine signalled the beginning of summer at the end of May. Will’s reunion was scheduled for the last Saturday of the month at Walminster Hall, the eighteenth-century former residence of the Earl of Walminster which, like so many of Britain’s stately homes, had been converted into a hotel and conference centre.

Anticipating needing a few drinks to get him through the evening, Will booked a taxi, which pulled up outside the entrance just after eight.

“How much?” Will asked.

“Fifteen fifty, squire,” the cabby replied.

Will leaned forward and handed him a crisp purple note. “Keep the change.”

“Very generous, Guv. What time you want picking up?”

“Shall we say midnight?”

“Midnight it is.”

He stepped out of the cab and looked up at the imposing entrance. Decked in his best suit and with freshly cut, if receding, hair, he felt he looked his best. Still, he smoothed out the creases in his jacket, adjusted his tie and ran his hand through what was left of his hair before he went inside.

The mansion’s cavernous hallway now served as the reception. Hotel staff in dark blue uniforms stood behind the desk on the far left. More staff bustled through the foyer, carrying guests’ bags or trays of drinks.

“Can I help you, sir?” asked a gentleman in black tie evening dress—clearly a more senior member of the staff.

“King George’s Reunion.”

“The Arnold Suite, sir. End of the corridor to your left.”

“Thank you.”

“Enjoy your evening, sir.”

Outside the double door entrance to the Arnold Suite was a table covered in name tags, copies of the school prospectus and, to his horror, copies of the old school yearbook. Two women were behind the desk, both in long black cocktail dresses. They were talking and neither saw him approach.

“Evening ladies,” he said when he reached the desk.

“Will!” screamed Lizzie. “Will Brown!” She dashed around the desk and hugged him. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”

“You mean it isn’t still fashionable to be late?”

She playfully punched his arm. “You.” Her grin split her face clean in two and she shook her head. “I’m so glad you made it. Really. I am.”

“Well, if every girl is going to greet me with a hug like that one, then I am too. You look good, Lizzie. Nice dress.”

“What this?” She gestured to her dress. “It’s just something I threw on.”

“Yeah, right. I’ve never known you to just throw anything on. I remember once waiting for over an hour for you to decide what you were going to wear to the cinema. Bobby wanted to leave without you. But I mean it. You look good.”

“Not a day over forty? Go on, say it. I know you’re thinking it.”

He made an innocent face. “Me? As if.”

“Okay. I’ll let you off.”

“I can’t believe it. I compliment you and you treat it as an insult.”

“It’s just what I’m used to from you. Was used to from you, I mean.” She shook her head again. “Damn, it’s good to see you.” She turned to the other woman behind the desk and said, “Can I leave you on your own for a while? I’ll send someone out as soon as I can.”

“No, I’ll be fine. Go catch up.”

“Thanks.” She addressed Will again. “So, are you going to buy me a drink?”

“Lead the way.”

She led him through the double doors into a vast hall. There was a stage opposite the entrance with a dance floor in front of it. Large round tables surrounded by chairs were dotted throughout the rest of the room. The bar was on the far left. Lizzie took him over and he ordered a glass of white wine for her and a pint of lager for himself.