Page 85 of The Missing Sister

‘Where is she? Do you think she isn’t coming?’

Star paced round the sitting room of her suite and looked nervously at her watch. ‘It’s already ten past seven. We mustn’t lose her now, Orlando.’

‘Don’t panic, Lady Sabrina, I’m sure nothing’s gone awry with my plan,’ he replied, taking a slurp of champagne.

‘I wish I could be as relaxed as you,’ Star muttered, then picked up the receiver and dialled 0. ‘Hello, is this the front desk? Could you possibly put me through to Mrs Mary McDougal in Room 112? Thank you so much, that’s very kind of you.’ Star waited while the receptionist connected her, raising a disapproving eyebrow at Orlando, who was pouring them both a top-up of champagne. The line rang for an unbearably long time before it was answered.

‘Hello?’ a dazed voice answered.

‘Mrs McDougal? It’s Sabrina Vaughan here. Orlando and I were just wondering whether you were still coming?’

‘I – I am. Oh dear, I’m afraid I sat down on the bed and must have dropped off. How rude of me. I’ll be there in ten minutes.’

‘No problem at all, Mrs McDougal. We’ll see you soon.’

As she hung up, Orlando raised his glass to her. ‘And the fish is reeled into the net.’

‘Honestly, Orlando, it’s not as if we’re hunting her, we just want to speak to her! I’ll go and tidy myself up.’

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Nervously smoothing down the skirt of her dress, Star went to answer it.

Merry McDougal was standing in the corridor, wearing a tasteful jade-green dress, teamed with a pair of black court shoes. Her blonde hair hung in a wavy shoulder-length bob around a fine-featured face, her sapphire-blue eyes standing out against her pale skin. Star thought how elegant she looked, despite having just woken from an impromptu nap. She was clutching a small bag, and Star gulped as she saw an emerald-green glimmer on one finger.

‘Hello, Mrs McDougal. Come in,’ Star said, trying to sound as natural as possible.

She led Merry into the large sitting room and saw Orlando had disappeared into the bedroom. ‘Please, sit down while I fetch Orlando. He was just on the phone to a... wine supplier. Back in a tick,’ she said, then ducked into the bedroom. He was standing by the door and had obviously been listening behind it.

‘It’s her!’ Star stage-whispered to Orlando. ‘Oh my God, I feel so nervous. And guess what?’

‘What?’

‘I only got a quick glance, but it looks like she’s wearing the ring.’

‘As they say these days, high five!’ Without actually offering Star the hand-clap, Orlando swept through the door.

‘Mrs McDougal, thank you so much for coming. Please, don’t bother to get up,’ he said as the woman prepared to stand.

‘I am so sorry about my lateness. As I said to Sabrina, I’m afraid the jet lag got to me and I fell asleep.’

Star noticed she had a slight, unplaceable accent underlying her pleasant, low tone.

‘Please do not apologise, Mrs McDougal. It gave myself and my old chum, Sabrina here, a chance to catch up, although it might have to be you who has to catch up on the alcohol front.’ Orlando nodded at his champagne glass. ‘One too many of these has gone down a treat. It’s from a newcave, more affordable than your Krug and Dom Pérignon, and really rather pleasant. I myself am not a particular fan of champagnes, especially when the sparkling element overpowers the taste, which it does in some brands, but this is very palatable. Now, will you join us in the remnants of the bottle, or would you prefer to drink something else?’

‘I may sound rather dull, but I think I’d better stick to water while we have the interview. My brain’s blurry as it is. Oh, and please call me Merry,’ she added as Star walked across the room to an alcove and held up two water bottles.

‘Still or sparkling?’ asked Star.

‘I’ll have the sparkling, and then I’ll at least feel a little more festive.’

Once the water had been poured, Orlando sat in the velvet smoking chair opposite Merry. He indicated the dictaphone lying on the table between them. ‘Would you mind awfully if I record this? My shorthand is non-existent and I’d like to catch every word that falls from your lips.’

‘Of course not,’ Merry said, taking a sip of water. ‘What exactly is it you’d like to know?’

‘Let’s start with how it all began. I think I can detect from your accent that you are not a native Kiwi. In fact, forgive me if I’m wrong,’ he said, as Star sat down on the sofa, ‘but I think I can hear just the slightest hint of an Irish burr in there somewhere.’

Star watched as a slight blush came to the woman’s cheeks.

‘You’ve a good ear, although I left Dublin straight after university. I’ve lived in New Zealand for some decades now.’