What Happens in France Read online

  Your loving sister,

  Bryony

  Bryony read the post again and published it. She’d set up the blog a few months before her father’s stroke, and although it had attracted visitors, it had yet to attract Hannah.

  In the early years, her parents had tried more conventional routes to find Hannah. They’d contacted journalists, given interviews on local television and hired detectives. Each fruitless attempt drained her parents further and Bryony watched their optimism ebb. Initially, she too had believed Hannah would return home but as time went by, Bryony began to hate her sister for abandoning them and causing such pain. In the end, she shut off from her emotions and continued life without giving her too much thought.

  Her father’s stroke had jolted Bryony into further action. She’d made efforts before but now she had to undertake a more determined effort and was intent on seeking alternative ways that might help locate her sister, should she still be alive. Hence the idea of applying for What Happens in… Bryony was pinning much on getting onto the new game show. Truth was, she was rapidly running out of alternative ideas and ways to track down Hannah and now she was running out of time.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SATURDAY, 8 JULY – EVENING

  The black dress hadn’t been worn for some time and Bryony was surprised at how short it was. She tugged at it, willing the hem to cover her knees, but it stayed firmly halfway up her thighs. She should have checked before the evening. There had been enough time for her to buy a new one. She tied the frilly white apron over it and decided she looked more like a maid than a kitchen hand. She removed it with a huff of annoyance and attached a plain cream apron instead. That would have to do. With a bit of luck no one would notice how short the skirt was and they’d all get so drunk they wouldn’t care about how silly they all looked.

  Melinda flounced into the kitchen wearing a large hat and a coat with the collar turned up and carrying a notepad and pen. Bryony looked her up and down but couldn’t work out the outfit.

  ‘I give up.’

  ‘I’m Jessica Snobbs, a food critic. I write for an important newspaper – my column is “The Golden Grub” – and whatever I say goes. Chefs are scared witless of me. I have a formidable reputation, and tonight I shall be dining at Chez Vincent.’

  ‘Why the hat? I didn’t think food critics wore hats.’

  ‘I thought it made me look important. It was that or a monocle.’

  Bryony guffawed.

  ‘I didn’t allow enough time for the event. This is all I had upstairs. I could hardly wear my Agent Provocateur knickers, or my everyday comfy outfit of tracksuit bottoms and baggy top. If you think I look bad, wait until you see what Sean’s wearing. I’ve never seen a chef dressed like him.’

  ‘Where is Sean? Is he getting ready?’

  ‘He took Freddie to Granny Brigitte’s house an hour ago. He should be back soon. He’d better be. The others will be arriving in ten minutes. I’ve invited the neighbours – Tina and James. They’re a nice couple. They usually keep to themselves but were quite keen to come along. I don’t think they go out much. Tina’s an artist and works at home most of the time. I don’t know what James does but he can’t work far away. He dons Lycra shorts and cycles there each morning.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve prepared the first course. It’s my speciality – ‘pâté maison’ and toast. After we’ve eaten it, we’ll get the murder mystery game board out and find out what happens next. I hope I don’t get bumped off. It’ll mean I’ll have to lie on the floor while Sean ruins the second course. It’s steak and he always overcooks it.’

  ‘It’ll be fine. You can supervise from the floor. Pretend you’re the voice from the grave.’

  ‘Or the voice from the gravy,’ Melinda suggested, earning a groan from her friend. ‘There’s six of us in total. Should make for a giggle.’

  ‘Is Lewis coming?’

  Spotting the glint in her friend’s eyes, Melinda said, ‘He is. But I have bad news. I’m afraid he’s not your type.’

  ‘How can you say that? He might be. He might be exactly my type.’

  ‘No, sweetie. Lewis has been pretty cagey about his love life but I pestered Sean to find out more about him. He knows I’m always on the hunt for suitable singletons to invite to dinner to meet you. Sean’s not as good as me at extracting information but he did discover that Lewis isn’t keen to get involved in another relationship at the moment. He’s recovering from a bitter split with his partner of five years who walked out on him for another man. It was completely unexpected and knocked Lewis for six. He’s sworn off relationships for the time being.’

  ‘That’s very sad but surely, given time, he’ll get over it and—’

  Melinda shook her head. ‘I’m not explaining this very well. His partner’s name was Maxwell,’ she added by way of explanation.

  ‘Maxwell,’ Bryony repeated. She furrowed her eyebrows, a fake attempt at dismay. ‘Alas! Maybe he isn’t my type after all. Shame. I was looking forward to getting to know him.’

  ‘You can get to know him. You just can’t get drunk and drape yourself over the poor man and try to play tonsil tennis with him. You’d scare him rigid.’

  ‘I wouldn’t ever do that!’ protested Bryony, flushing deeply.

  Melinda chuckled. ‘I know you wouldn’t. You’re far too well-mannered for that sort of behavior, drunk or not. If you did go wild, I’d be the first to try and capture it all on video and post it onto YouTube for your students to snigger at.’ She laughed at the expression on her friend’s face. ‘You old prude! Maybe you should let yourself go once in a while. Not with Lewis though. I’ll have to go back on the hunt for you since you’re hopeless at the whole dating game thing. Fancy a glass of wine? Sean was unsupervised at the supermarket and bought loads of plonk. There are some bottles of Hungarian red out in the utility room. Knowing Sean, it’ll be a super-strength, brain-numbing vintage that cost next to nothing. We can uncork a couple and let them breathe.’

  ‘I am not prudish. I’m merely reserved, shy, and even a little old-fashioned. I can be a goer when I’m with the right person.’

  Melinda smiled at her friend. ‘I know that. I shared a flat with you, remember? I’m only kidding. There’s nothing wrong with you at all except you’re a bit shy in front of potential hunky dates. I have a totally different approach to snaring a man. I’m all for launching myself at him and making sure he can’t get away.’

  Bryony laughed. ‘Poor Sean. You certainly had plenty of practice getting boyfriends in the good old days behind the bike sheds.’

  ‘Oh yes, it was the place to hang at break and lunchtimes. If you hadn’t been such a goody-goody you could have joined us.’

  ‘Yeah, I’d have been a huge hit, wouldn’t I? There wasn’t a boy there who’d have wanted to be seen with “Frankenstein’s other monster”. Besides it was the only chance I got to sit down quietly with a book while you lot were being rebellious outside.’

  ‘It’s amazing what you can learn in a library, especially when you have it all to yourself. I certainly learnt a thing or two in that school library and I don’t mean from books,’ mused Melinda.

  Bryony chuckled. ‘You naughty girl. Who’d have thought you’d have turned out to be such a responsible citizen?’

  ‘That’s because I had you as a friend. You made me mend my errant ways. I only played up at school when others in the class were messing about. It was easier to be one of the gang than to be an outsider.’

  ‘Don’t I know it?’ Bryony added quietly. ‘Right, you flirt, I’ll fetch that wine.’

  Bryony walked to the utility room at the back of the kitchen and flung open the door, turning to face her friend and continue the conversation when something caught her eye. Her hands flew to her mouth and a muffled gasp escaped. Slumped on the floor of the pantry was the body of a man, his eyes open in fear, mouth distorted. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his head. Bryony slammed the door shut and screamed.

  * * *


  ‘I’m sorry, pumpkin,’ said Sean, a devilish Cheshire Cat grin on his face. He put out a meaty paw to rub his wife’s shoulder. Square-shouldered and muscular from weight-lifting, Sean looked most un-chef like in a long, striped butcher’s apron and a baseball cap and shorts. His round face was clean-shaven and his eyes sparkled with energy.

  Melinda tasered him with a look before saying, ‘You should have known better.’

  ‘It was only a bit of fun. I thought you’d both find it hilarious.’ He waggled his heavy eyebrows.

  Melinda fought back a smile. ‘We might have done if it hadn’t been so damn convincing. My heart is still hammering.’

  Lewis grinned winningly. ‘I was pretty convincing, wasn’t I?’ He winked at Bryony.

  ‘Don’t push it,’ she growled assiduously, avoiding his eye. Lewis Scott was now standing in front of her; his tall frame leaning against a kitchen worktop, hands splayed behind him. She noted his clean clipped fingernails and elegant fingers – the hands of an artist or pianist. She studied his relaxed pose and cursed her stupidity. A dribble of crimson make-up ran down one side of his head. It had been applied crudely and she wondered how she had been taken in. Screaming was out of character for her and now she felt rather ridiculous in spite of the sisterly support from Melinda.

  She looked Lewis over, drawn to his topaz-brown eyes. They were clear and luminous. Under the strong light in the kitchen they were dark gold in colour and, fringed by long black eyelashes, were very beautiful. His angular face sported a hint of stubble. Physically he embodied everything Bryony liked in a man – a muscular body that was not too fat and yet not too lean, long legs and dark, naturally wavy hair that reminded her of Gerard Butler. She looked up again to study his face. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. His easy manner was infectious. She turned towards Sean, who now looked like a scolded puppy, and conceded defeat. To be fair, the men had pulled off the stunt with aplomb. She thumped Sean good-naturedly on the arm.

  ‘You win. I fell for it. You convinced two hardened, wise women with your act. Be warned though, at some point I shall be sorely tempted to retaliate.’

  Lewis gave a mock bow. ‘I accept your challenge.’

  ‘Twit,’ muttered Melinda, wagging her finger at her husband.

  He kissed her on the cheek then chuckled and said, ‘I don’t know about “wise women”. You were so busy jawing you didn’t hear the van pull up or us sneaking through the back door and hiding in the utility room.’

  ‘Quit while you’re ahead,’ warned Bryony.

  ‘Yes, or I might hide your little choo choo set,’ Melinda added.

  Lewis struggled to suppress a grin.

  ‘It’s my son’s set,’ Sean said by way of explanation.

  ‘It may be Freddie’s but that doesn’t explain why you were in the spare room playing with it while he was watching television.’

  Sean shrugged it off. ‘I wasn’t playing with it. I thought Freddie was going to return and so I was keeping it going for him.’

  Melinda snorted. ‘Lewis, I hope you appreciate what you’ve let yourself in for. It’s going to be a mad night. And we haven’t started on the Hungarian red yet.’

  Lewis stretched to his full height and smiled. ‘Sean warned me it could get crazy here at times when you got together but I thought it sounded a lot of fun. Hope I got the costume right.’ He whipped out a soft white baseball cap and a black striped apron from his back pocket where they had been hidden. ‘I watched a cookery show and this seemed to be the sort of gear chefs wear. I found the apron hanging on the back of the Shepherds’ kitchen door.’

  Melinda smiled. Lewis was wearing white jeans and a white shirt, which looked freshly washed and ironed.

  ‘You look spot on. This, everyone, is Georges the sous-chef.’

  ‘Georges is my sous-chef. This is beginning to get interesting,’ said Sean. ‘So, Lewis, I mean, Georges, let’s see how you feel about us all later this evening after Melinda’s bossed you about and somebody is dead on the sitting room floor.’

  The doorbell rang out, interrupting the banter.

  ‘I’ll get it. It’ll be Tina and James. Action stations, people. Time to get into character. And Sean, behave yourself,’ called Melinda as she left the others to answer the door.

  ‘Of course, my little commandant,’ Sean replied once she was out of earshot. He turned and spoke to Bryony, ‘I notice she didn’t tell you to behave.’

  ‘No, she didn’t, did she?’ replied Bryony thoughtfully before grabbing and brandishing a wooden spoon. ‘So, watch out! I have a weapon and I’m not afraid to use it. On either of you,’ she added, fixing Lewis with a look.

  He threw his arms up in the air. ‘Save me, Sean. We have a crazy chefette in the kitchen.’

  ‘Mate, you’re on your own. Every man for himself,’ he shouted, running to the other end of the room. ‘I warned you these two were lunatics.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SUNDAY, 9 JULY – MORNING

  ‘Searching for Hannah’

  Dear Hannah,

  What a crazy night I had last night. I went to the murder mystery party at Melinda’s house as planned. She had a board game version of several plots and had chosen one set in a restaurant. It was a complete laugh from start to finish. This one was set in a restaurant called Chez Vincent and involved the murder of a chef. I played the part of a kitchen hand who is terrified of the volatile chef and who is fired for burning the cakes. James, who played an ex-con employed to wash up, was actually the murderer and ‘stabbed’ the chef with an extremely sharp Sabatier chef’s knife belonging to Georges, the sous-chef, played by Lewis, a new neighbour. Lewis is cool and we had a crazy few minutes messing about in the kitchen, behaving like kids and then had such a laugh. Sean (who played a very convincing bad-tempered chef) was murdered after the first course. He went to get some wine and after a while we decided he had been gone too long. We discovered him lying in the kitchen with a knife by his side and blood on his apron. Don’t worry. It was fake blood. We dragged him back to the lounge so he could hear us then we had to work out who had murdered him and why. To be honest, after the second course and several bottles of wine, no one could remember who they were supposed to be and we all kept dissolving into giggles. Lewis played his part brilliantly although he spoke his lines like a character in the television show ’Allo, ’Allo! Sean and I kept sniggering at him. Sean got told off by Melinda because he was supposed to be dead but kept snorting with laughter. Lewis shrugged his shoulders in mock Gallic annoyance at the questions we asked him, and when he went into a panic about losing his ‘leetle sharp kneeves’, none of us could keep a straight face. He was most entertaining. Lewis had to rush off afterwards but he’s going to come to Melinda’s next party. She’s planning another one for a few weeks’ time. Tomorrow, I’ve got the important audition in Birmingham. Cross your fingers for me. If you are reading this, Hannah, please, please contact me.

  Your loving sister,

  Bryony

  Once she’d published her post, she reread the email she’d received the day after submitting her application to What Happens in...

  Dear Bryony,

  Thank you for applying to be a contestant on the fabulous new game show, What Happens in... We are very pleased to be able to invite you to an audition for the show. This will in take place on Monday 10th July 12:00 p.m. at the Royal Theatre, Broad Street, Birmingham. We look forward to seeing you there.

  Kind regards,

  Laura Perry Producer, What Happens in…

  There was no further information about the show in her email and she studied the advert on the game show website for clues as to what might be expected of her:

  Are you a quizzer? Do you like challenges? Are you better than the rest? We are urgently seeking lively contestants for a brand new, game show – What Happens in... This show takes place over several days and will be unlike any other quiz show on television. Only the best will remain and go onto the next challenge and ultim
ately win the prize of £10,000! Filming takes place in France in July. Have you got the brains to take on this exciting new quiz? Then apply now.

  She read it again even though she knew what it said by heart. There was nothing to help her prepare for the audition. She’d have to rely on intelligence and enthusiasm. Bryony wouldn’t be there for the same reasons as the other contestants. She wasn’t interested in winning the loot. She had a greater prize in mind – finding Hannah – and being on a game show that was going to be broadcast day after day on national television might just help her do that.

  CHAPTER SIX

  MONDAY, 10 JULY – MORNING

  The train drew into Birmingham New Street station, releasing a bad-tempered wheeze as it came to a standstill. Passengers fidgeted by the doors, waiting for the green light to illuminate and allow them to escape. Doors flung open and people were propelled from the stuffy carriages. Bryony, sandwiched between a large gent wearing a three-piece suit and a woman in killer heels whose skirt barely covered her backside, tumbled out onto the platform and joined the crowds racing to the exit to begin their day. The audition started at nine and she had calculated the journey by taxi would only take ten minutes. She followed the signs to the taxi rank. Outside, rain poured from the leaden skies. A sea of umbrellas filled her vision and her heart sank. A queue of at least 100 men snaked along the pavement in front of her. She joined the end and checked her watch. Only thirty minutes remained. The people in the queue shuffled forward one space.