In the Stars

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Water Bearer

Bath wasn't what Charlotte expected. She envisioned a flat landscape, like most of London. Instead, it was tucked in a verdant valley, fitting into all the nooks and crannies created by the river Avon.

She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. They stood in the square outside the Pump Rooms, the cathedral in front of them. The detail on the exterior of the abbey was beautiful- the exquisite detail of medieval carvers. She looked forward to seeing the lacy fan vaulting that was said to be on the inside.

"Where to?" she asked.

Owen was next to her. He had been silent the whole trip west, a gloomy sort of expression plastered on his face like a cast. Seeing the glories of the Georgian city's architecture did not seem to faze him. His tightened lips and crossed arm pose were anything but impressed.

"Our hotel. Let's go."

Their rental car was parked near the train station. Owen had thought it best that it not be too close to the hotel. Seemed counter-intuitive to Charlotte, but she once again deferred to his judgment.

They walked through to Union Street, where shoppers and tourists crowded the cobblestones. Charlotte felt safe there. No bad vibes had hit her yet, which was a good sign. She would have to keep listening to her gut, if only to keep them on the right path.

She'd found out about Bath from Ben Fletcher. One of the only morsels of information she'd gleaned about her parents had been how they met. They both studied astrophysics at Bristol University, but didn't meet until working for the same research facility in Bath. It wasn't love at first sight- apparently they had bickered over electromagnetic theory before realizing their passionate responses might be related to attraction.

When she'd opened the envelope from her parents' lawyer, there had been a postcard from Bath included among the legal papers. It had seemed random and odd. Now, Charlotte wasn't so sure.

They took Milsom Street over to Queen Square. The hotel was located in one of the houses in the cream-colored stone terraces that surrounded it. Right next door was the prior home of Jane Austen. Charlotte smiled as she looked on the blue plaque.

Once inside the very elegant reception room, she waited behind Owen as he checked them in. They were under the names of Peter and Wendy Stuart. Violet, who'd made the reservation, was a fan of J.M. Barrie.

As she waited, Charlotte pulled out the postcard. On the back of the vintage picture of the Royal Crescent was a stamp from 1945. Written in an ornate hand was a name- Nigel Berwick.

"I have the keys." Owen's voice broke through her thoughts. She slipped the postcard back into her purse.

"What floor?"

"Third."

She nodded and walked towards the elevator. He followed, his eyebrow raised.

He still carried the large bag over his shoulder. It didn't fit in with the setting- weathered brown cloth and country house chic didn't go together. It looked even sillier when he dumped it on the herringbone parquetry floor of their room. It was all polished wood paneling, cream linens, and paintings of hunting dogs.

"This will do."

I'd say. Charlotte turned in a few circles, taking in the classiness of the suite. This was no Holiday Inn.