Blue Steal Page 9

  What did it mean?

  ‘The dining room?’ she asked Hailey in a daze.

  Hailey pointed to a set of doors opposite the ballroom, and Selina turned to look at them. The heart which had moments ago been pounding rapid staccatos at the thought of Anna or nonna in trouble was now struggling to move, beats coming slow, weak and heavy. It wasn’t just her heart. Her mind was as sluggish as a snail in peanut butter.

  What did Lewis want?

  Usually, if an older gentleman sent her a note like this, she’d know exactly what he was after. If Lewis was hoping for a date, this was going to get all kinds of awkward.

  She had the urge to turn back to Hailey, to ask her a million questions. Who delivered the note? Was it Lewis himself? When? Was he still waiting in there?

  Other questions—ones the poor girl couldn’t possibly hope to answer.

  Why did he want to see Selina? Did he know who she was? Who she was to him?

  Of course he did. He’d seen her yesterday and he’d stopped dead. Like her. Hit by twin bolts of lightning. There was no way Lewis hadn’t recognised her. He knew exactly who she was.

  But what did he want from her after all this time? Did he know why she was here? What she was looking for?

  The answers were waiting for her in the dining room.

  Right now she had the chance to meet a man who’d been a part of her life, and yet no part of her life, since the day she’d been born.

  It was something she’d been dreaming about for a long, long time.

  She’d followed Lewis in the media since she was ten and she knew everything that it was possible for her to know. He’d inherited the hotel when his parents had died a few years after his brother and he’d built the business into an empire, first expanding within the hotel trade that had been his family’s bread and butter for four generations, then diversifying into a wide array of other areas. He was an incredibly successful businessman.

  Selina had always admired his business acumen, but somehow, none of that seemed relevant now. He was family, Holloway family, and she was about to meet him for the first time.

  There was no preparing for that.

  Slinging her handbag more firmly over her shoulder, she headed towards the dining room. She’d overheard people from the conference talking about the breakfast that was served in there. Complaining mostly. Since the hotel kitchen was no longer in operation, breakfast was limited to tea and coffee urns, cold cereal and the toast an old rotating grill spat out.

  She paused in the doors, absorbing the details of the room before her without really seeing it. It was a large room, with plentiful natural light filtering through gauzy white curtains over the high arched windows which ran along the far wall, but despite that, the room seemed dark. Dark and somehow garish. The strong colours, maybe. The floor was covered in worn burgundy carpet patterned in large off-white flowers. The walls were also burgundy, with white trim. Small round tables were spread throughout the room, covered in white linen.

  Her gaze was drawn to Lewis. Not surprising, since he was the only one in there.

  Not true, she realised a moment later. There was also a couple of big bored-looking men on stools at the long bar at the side of the room.

  Lewis was sitting at one of the small, round tables towards the back. He was looking right at her, and for some strange reason—nerves, anticipation?—her stomach did a weird flip-flop and dropped to the floor. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this nervy—the last time she’d been at the Empire maybe, when she’d been thirteen and fierce.

  She wasn’t thirteen anymore, but she felt the same intense curiosity about Lewis and everything Holloway she had then. Now, however, she wouldn’t be cowed. She wouldn’t be the poor relation—the Migliore to his Holloway.

  She was curious, yes, but she would reserve judgement. She would remain objective. She would not be grateful for this unexpected invitation. On the other hand, she mused wryly, it would be helpful to tamp down the anger that rose automatically when she remembered how Lewis and his family had treated nonna.

  Funny to feel so many conflicted emotions towards someone she’d never met.

  She walked towards him, body on autopilot while her mind whirled. Yesterday she’d been too shocked to take much in but today she was hungry for detail.

  Lewis was well-preserved for his age. Trim; medium-height; thin, greying hair; few distinguishing features. Dealing with rich middle-aged men day-in and day-out, she knew her labels, so she knew the medium-grey beautifully cut business suit he wore was worth more than her car. A lot more than her car.

  And while she was scrutinising him, she was aware that Lewis was doing the same to her, his eyes travelling over her, making her a touch self-conscious. She was dressed in her usual attire – a black pencil skirt, turquoise shell and black leather slingbacks. Despite the much lower price tags, she knew she looked good.

  It made her glad until she remembered she wasn’t supposed to be worrying about whether this man approved of her clothing or not.

  As she neared, he stood. Giving her a small, almost shy smile, he indicated the seat opposite him. Selina took it, still examining his face for similarities, trying to pick shared features, work out what it was exactly that had made her reel at his ‘sameness’ yesterday. Except for his eyes, which really were hers in another face, it was nothing and everything. Family. When she realised that her hands were folded on the table in exactly the same position and manner as his, she removed them and put them in her lap instead.

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ he said. A soft, relatively high-pitched voice, with the plummy almost-British accent that Australia’s wealthiest sometimes adopted.

  ‘Hello Lewis,’ she replied. Could he hear the western suburbs Italian in her accent? Probably not—she’d spent a lot of time working it out of her speech.

  ‘Would you like tea?’ he asked, eyebrows rising as his soft manicured hand came to rest on the handle of the exquisite red and white floral fine-bone china teapot. Nearby were two matching cups and a milk creamer. Antique, she’d guess. Pricey. Not hotel crockery, that’s for sure.

  ‘No, thank you.’

  His response was another smile, small but approving, and as much as she was fighting it, part of her was thrilled. ‘You prefer coffee, of course. As Andrew did,’ he said.

  She started a little at the direct reference. She did prefer coffee, though whether it came from her maternal grandfather or all the Italian blood running through her veins was hard to say.

  ‘How silly of me not to foresee your preference. I’ll be sure to have coffee available in future,’ he observed lightly.

  In future?

  And yet they were close relatives. Or at least, as close as it got for her. Now that they had met, of course they would have a future. That was reasonable, right?

  This situation was so new she hadn’t had a chance to form any kind of opinion.

  ‘You won’t mind if I pour myself a cup?’

  She shook her head. He picked up the pot and poured tea in precise, careful pulls. Not surprising perhaps for someone who grew up in a hotel that used to be renowned for its high tea service. When he’d added a little milk from the creamer and stirred with a quick, silent teaspoon, he picked the cup up by its delicate porcelain handle and put it carefully, almost delicately, to his mouth.

  What now?

  She was finally sitting across from Lewis Holloway, but Selina, never lost for words, couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  ‘You know who I am?’ he asked, returning the cup to the saucer.

  His directness caught her off-guard again. ‘Of course,’ she answered. ‘Lewis Holloway. You own this hotel.’ This hotel, and half of Melbourne. Half of Australia.

  He didn’t respond but his lips pursed slightly in disapproval. She hadn’t provided him with the real answer to his question. She couldn’t see how there was anything to be gained by playing dumb. ‘My great-uncle,’ she added.

  ‘Yes.’ He p
aused, eyes raking intensely over her face. ‘You are very like him. There can be no doubt.’

  About her parentage. Nonna had always said she had a lot of Holloway in her. She wasn’t sure what else to reply beyond a brief, ‘Yes.’

  ‘And as to why you are here now …’ A conspiratorial leaning forward. ‘I can hazard a guess.’

  Talk about cutting straight to the point.

  It was an invitation to confess, the smile, the knowing gleam in his eyes, but while she was tempted, Selina held her tongue. He might feel familiar, but she reminded herself that she didn’t know Lewis at all, couldn’t read his thoughts or guess his intentions. She had no idea if she could trust him. Admitting why she was here would be the height of foolishness.

  He didn’t seem perturbed by her silence. ‘I’ve been searching for the Petrovsky sapphires for fifty years,’ he said casually, as if this were a natural direction for the conversation to take. ‘It is not the money, of course. I am so wealthy now the set is but a drop in the ocean. But Andrew—your grandfather, though it’s funny to think of him like that …’

  He smiled, and the gesture looked uncomfortable on his face, an entirely unfamiliar pattern of movement. A man who didn’t smile often, and he was smiling for her. Trying, she realised. Trying to connect.

  And she understood why Lewis thought it was funny to think of Andrew as a grandfather. To him, Andrew was eternally eighteen. And yet, if he’d lived, he would be Lewis’s age.

  She returned his smile.

  Lewis took another sip of tea, and when he put the cup down, he had grown sombre. ‘Andrew died for those jewels,’ he finished up quietly.

  She could feel his sadness. It seeped from him, and it came to her that though it had been half a century, he was still mourning his brother’s death. A deep, sad love she understood completely, because it was how she felt about her sister.

  ‘I left the Empire untouched for fifty years,’ Lewis went on, ‘convinced that was the only way I would ever find the jewellery. It was only when I gave up, when I condemned the Empire to demolition, that the ring was found. It is ironic, don’t you agree?’

  ‘A little,’ she agreed smoothly, but part of her was shocked by his words. Lewis was admitting, in a highly implicit and ambiguous manner but admitting nonetheless, that, contrary to what he’d told the police at the time, the jewellery had never left this hotel.

  He was admitting he had lied to the police.

  He had invited her to confess in him earlier. Perhaps she should just ask him straight-out what had happened that night. She was still considering when he spoke again.

  ‘Might I see it?’ he asked hesitantly. ‘If you come across … anything that might interest me … Might I see it?’

  There was no doubt—he knew exactly why she was here. What did he expect her to say?

  If I find the necklace, which shouldn’t even be here according to what you told the police fifty years ago, but if I find it, before I take it and pawn it, I’ll be sure to show it to you.

  ‘I would be willing to recompense you,’ he added. ‘Generously.’

  Was he offering to buy the necklace from her?

  Her plan was to sell it to a black market contact. A friend of a friend of one of her more dubious earlier boyfriends. She’d made vague initial enquiries and had received enough of a positive response to be confident a buyer could be located. But she’d be lying if she claimed not to be a little worried about safety. These were not people she knew well, and while she generally knew how to look out for herself, she’d be totally on her own with this one.

  But if she could sell it to Lewis … He would probably pay more and at substantially less risk. What reason did she have to say no? ‘If I come across anything that might interest you, I would be more than happy to show you first,’ she agreed slowly.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said softly. ‘I would appreciate that.’

  He moved his hand to fondle his cup again, watching as he played with the delicate handle. He seemed to be considering whether to say anything further.

  He shifted in his chair and looked up, eyes wet and bright. ‘Selina, I am so glad we have found one another. I hope that we can … I hope that this is just the beginning. For us.’

  There was no doubt he was genuine.

  She wanted to let the past go, bask in the glow of reuniting with long-lost family, but it wasn’t that simple. She couldn’t just forget about the way he’d treated her family. ‘I’ve been here the whole time, Lewis,’ she said, quietly but firmly. ‘We’ve shared this city all my life. You must have known … Nonna told you about the baby.’ Her mother, who he’d now never meet. ‘You could have found me at any time.’

  The shine in his eyes dimmed, his expression became mask-like but she sensed something like irritation in the tightening around his mouth. She’d ruined his moment. Perhaps she’d been too honest, but if he was serious, if he really did want this to be ‘just the beginning’, she needed him to know that the way he’d treated nonna wasn’t okay. ‘Why did you allow nonna to be treated so badly?’

  He jerked a little. ‘We didn’t treat her badly.’

  ‘She was sixteen! She was carrying Andrew’s baby, and you cast her out onto the street.’

  He lifted his cup for another sip as if they were discussing the weather or some other nonentity. ‘In the aftermath of the burglary, we replaced the entire staff.’

  Is that what he told himself? ‘You fired her because she was pregnant and none of you Holloways wanted to know about it. She had no one to turn to, did you realise that?’

  He was annoyed with her, she could tell, but this was a conversation they had to have. She left him with it for a moment, not willing to move on until he’d acknowledged what she was saying.

  He took another sip of tea, and when he put it down again, something had become softer, more open. ‘You are angry,’ he said, as if reasoning to himself. ‘You blame me for what happened to … nonna.’ The Italian word sounded awkward on his lips.

  ‘Her name is Maria,’ Selina said, sure that he hadn’t remembered it.

  ‘Maria,’ he repeated, nodding slightly. ‘I understand why you might blame me, but please, let me explain the situation from my point of view. When she came forward, we had no way of knowing if what she claimed was the truth. This does not apply in your case—looking at you, there can be no doubt—but it would not be the first time an opportunistic young woman attempted to take advantage of the Holloway name.’

  Opportunistic young woman? Her naïve sixteen year-old grandmother who could barely speak English was about the least likely person ever to try to con anyone. Had they really thought nonna had lied about Andrew being the father? Maybe they thought she was making up the whole pregnancy! ‘She wasn’t lying.’

  ‘As I said, I don’t doubt it now.’

  ‘You knew she and Andrew were together. You should have stood up for her.’

  ‘I knew Andrew thought she was pretty. I knew he had a little crush on her. I knew there was some involvement, but it appears I wasn’t aware of the extent of … their feelings. I didn’t know things had progressed that far between them.’

  Nonna had told her that Andrew had tried to hide their relationship as much as possible. His parents didn’t know about it at all and Lewis didn’t know much … Andrew had been trying to protect nonna, but it had backfired—he’d done such a good job hiding their involvement, that no one had believed nonna when she’d said she was carrying his baby.

  ‘And you must realise, Selina, when she came forward, we were all in mourning. We had just lost Andrew. Under different circumstances, perhaps, we would have had the wherewithal to recognise Maria’s claims as valid, but at that time … We weren’t in any fit state.’

  That took a little of the wind out of her sails. She bit her lip, thinking. She had been determined to force Lewis to acknowledge how things had been for nonna, but maybe the counterpart was that she needed to acknowledge how things had been for him. Barely eighteen, d
evastated by the untimely death of his twin.

  And yet.

  ‘And of course, we didn’t realise Maria’s situation. I understand things have been difficult.’

  Yes, nonna’s life and Selina’s life was difficult, and at least part of the reason for that was sitting right in front of her.

  ‘Selina, I do sincerely apologise for any harm I caused in my grief and my youthful ignorance. Please believe me when I say it is a cause of great regret to me that I have only just learned of your existence.’

  Well, that was some apology. His eyes were fixed on hers, beseeching, and he seemed to be genuinely worried that she was irreconcilably angry with him.

  The truth was, he was saying everything she’d always dreamed he’d say. A thousand times she’d imagined this reunion, and while the real-life Lewis wasn’t quite the jolly man from her imaginings, he was saying the words he’d said in her fantasy. There’d been a misunderstanding, he was surprised and pleased to learn of her existence, and now he wanted to get to know her.

  ‘It came as a great shock to see you in the service corridor yesterday afternoon. Especially where you were standing. Right where Andrew … You are so much like him. At first I thought …’ His eyes had lost a little focus again, and Selina realised one of the things that was so disconcerting about Lewis was the impression he gave of not quite being here, like he was already halfway between this world and the next. He shuddered delicately, came back to himself. ‘I quickly realised who you must be, and shortly after, I surmised why you’d come. I wasn’t pleased, at first. I’m being frank with you. You know that I myself have spent fifty years …’ He looked to her again. ‘But as I considered it … We are family, after all, and perhaps it is right that you are the one to …’ A ghost of a smile. ‘I realised that the most important thing to me was to meet you. And now that we have met, I would like to get to know you. I see that you are booked in for the entire week. Of course, I have instructed the office to waive any fee. You are staying as my guest. I’ll take my leave now—I have other business to attend to and I understand this is a lot to take in, but I would be honoured if you would join me again here tomorrow. Shall we say the same time?’