Cat O'Nine Tales and Other Stories - Jeffrey Archer [28]
“Pity to have traveled this far,” said Dick, “and not take a look inside.”
His wife reluctantly agreed.
When they reached the front of the queue, Dick purchased two entrance tickets and, for a small extra charge, selected an English-speaking guide to show them around.
“I don’t feel too good,” said Maureen as they entered the Empress Catherine’s bedroom. She clung onto the four-poster bed.
“You must drink lots of water on such a hot day,” suggested the tour guide helpfully. By the time they had reached Tsar Nicholas IV’s study, Maureen warned her husband that she thought she was going to faint. Dick apologized to their guide, put an arm around his wife’s shoulder and assisted her out of the palace on an unsteady journey back to the carpark. They found their taxi driver standing by his car waiting for them.
“We must return to the Grand Palace Hotel immediately,” said Dick, as his wife fell into the back seat of the car like a drunk who has been thrown out of a pub on a Saturday night.
On the long drive back to St. Petersburg, Maureen was violently sick in the back of the taxi, but the driver didn’t comment, just maintained a steady speed as he continued along the highway. Forty minutes later, he came to a halt outside the Grand Palace Hotel. Dick handed over a wodge of notes and apologized.
“Hope madam better soon,” he said.
“Yes, let’s hope so,” replied Dick.
Dick helped his wife out of the back of the car, and guided her up the steps into the hotel lobby and quickly toward the lifts, not wishing to draw attention to himself. He had her safely back in their suite moments later. Maureen immediately disappeared into the bathroom, and even with the door closed Dick could hear her retching. He searched around the room. In their absence, all the bottles of Evian had been replaced. He only bothered to empty the one by Maureen’s bedside, which he refilled with tap water from the kitchenette.
Maureen finally emerged from the bathroom, and collapsed onto the bed. “I feel awful,” she said.
“Perhaps you ought to take a couple of aspirin, and try to get some sleep?”
Maureen nodded weakly. “Could you fetch them for me? They’re in my wash bag.”
“Of course, my darling.” Once he’d found the pills, he filled a glass with tap water, before returning to his wife’s side. She had taken off her dress, but not her slip. Dick helped her to sit up and became aware for the first time that she was soaked in sweat. She swilled down the two aspirins with the glass of water Dick offered her. He lowered her gently down onto the pillow before drawing the curtains. He then strolled across to the bedroom door, opened it, and placed the Do Not Disturb sign on the door knob. The last thing he needed was for a solicitous maid to come barging in and find his wife in her present state. Once Dick was certain she was asleep, he went down to dinner.
“Will madam be joining you this evening?” inquired the head waiter, once Dick was seated.
“No, sadly not,” replied Dick, “she has a slight migraine. Too much sun I fear, but I’m sure she’ll be fine by the morning.”
“Let’s hope so, sir. What can I interest you in tonight?”
Dick took his time perusing the menu, before he eventually said, “I think I’ll start with the foie gras, followed by a rump steak—” he paused—”medium rare.”
“Excellent choice, sir.”
Dick poured himself a glass of water from the bottle on the table and quickly gulped it down, before filling his glass a second time. He didn’t hurry his meal, and when he returned to his suite just after ten, he was delighted to find his wife was fast asleep. He picked up her glass, took it to the bathroom and refilled it with tap water. He then put it back on her side of the bed. Dick took his time undressing, before finally slipping under the covers to settle down next to his wife. He turned out the bedside light and slept soundly.
When Dick woke the following morning, he found that he too was covered in sweat.