Belle Morte Bites (Belle Morte 4.3)

Bed and Breakfast: Part Two

The taxi took them to the edge of the city, and pulled up outside a terraced row of houses, painted pastel blue, with small wrought-iron balconies jutting out from every floor.

"That's the one," the driver said, pointing to one of the houses in the middle. A small sign hung from the front door, featuring the words THE WHITE GULL with a small picture of a grinning seagull underneath.

"Thank you," Gideon said.

He paid the driver, and then helped Gilly and Liam out of the car.

"I think it's closed," Gilly said doubtfully, looking up at the B&B.

The curtains were drawn and the windows were dark, but Gideon hadn't come this far to give up now. He pounded on the front door, until voices sounded inside, coupled with angry-sounding footsteps. There was the faint rattle of a chain, the slide of a bolt being drawn back, then the door swung open. A middle-aged man stood there, his hair ruffled from sleep, a grey dressing-gown hastily thrown on over striped pyjamas. His eyes were hard and his mouth an angry line.

"What?" he snapped.

"We need a room for the night," Gideon said, gesturing to Gilly and Liam, hovering timidly behind him.

The man gaped at him. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Actually, no," Gideon said honestly.

"It's nearly one in the morning. You can't show up at this time and demand a room, and –" He stopped, looking at Gilly properly for the first time.

Her head was raised now, her hair pushed behind her ears, and her black eye seemed darker than ever under the bright glare of the streetlamps. Her hands shook as she clutched the suitcase with one, Liam's hand with the other.

The man looked at her, then looked at Gideon, eyes narrowed, sizing him up. His stare lingered on Gideon's hands for a long moment, then he opened the door wider.

"Come in," he said.

Gideon ushered Gilly and Liam in first, then closed the door behind them, moving out of the way so the man in the dressing gown could lock it again.

"Follow me," he said.

He led them down a narrow, darkened hallway, past a staircase on the left, and some closed doors on the right, until they reached a small kitchen at the back of the property.

"Paul? What's going?" said a voice, and Gideon turned to see another man standing in the kitchen doorway.

"We've got some late guests," Paul replied, filling the kettle with water from the sink.

"At this time?" the other man protested.

"They need help, Simon," Paul replied.

"But –"

"Dear, this really isn't the time or the place. Trust me," Paul said.

Simon fell silent, but his expression was mulish.

"Don't mind her," Paul whispered to Gideon as he rummaged in a cabinet for some mugs. "She gets very cranky if her beauty sleep is disturbed."

He turned to Gilly. "Take a seat, love," he encouraged, pulling out a chair for her.

Tentatively she sat down, pulling Liam onto her lap, and Paul handed her a mug of steaming tea.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Paul gave a mug to Gideon, too, and he accepted it, even though he couldn't drink it.

Simon took a seat opposite Gilly, wrapping his hands around his own mug. Paul leaned against Simon's chair, his hip pressed against the other man.