The Birthday Girl

For Gareth Evans THE CLOISTER HOTELGUEST LISTRoom 1Scott GregoryBeth GregoryEdith Gregory (minor)Room 2(empty)Room 3Noah VassCharlotte VassRoom 4(empty)Room 5Michael HuttonRoom 6(empty)Room 7Grace PagonakisRoom 8Mona RubinRoom 9Stella AtkinsonRoom 10Julia Vass (minor) PROLOGUEBRYONY: THE BIRTHDAY GIRLSeptember was a perfect month for dying. The drop of parched leaves from the sycamore outside Bryony’s kitchen window matched the shrivelling of her heart. Circumstance had made her choose this time of year. There was a limited window for getting everyone together and now was the time to act. While the last drama had taken place in the July heat, this time she would revel in the autumn sting. Already, plans were falling into place. Invites accepted and bait taken.She checked for the final time that she had everything for the poisonings. Her luggage was already stuffed to bursting and she’d had to repack it once to fit everything in. She’d divided the carefully prepared potions between her shoulder bag and case. She was paranoid that one of her belongings might get lost on the island boat, which looked worryingly primitive. Once she was on Eldey, the opportunities for replacing her supplies would be limited so she was hedging her bets. If one piece of luggage went missing, she’d have reserves as backup.She’d spent the previous week scrutinising her doses. It was vitally important that her calculations were as accurate as possible. A single error, where the drug failed to work its warped magic, would throw everything into disarray. Concoctions would need to be made on Eldey, but that could only happen if she had the right ingredients. There was just one chance for her to target each of her victims, although she might have a little fun too. That was what she’d really missed. The enjoyment of being at the centre of things. She was now desperate to get to the island, eager to initiate the plan that had been fermenting in her mind for a very long time. The years of incarceration culminating in this.She was going to Eldey, the magical island of saints and sinners, if the stories were to be believed. The place that had captured her imagination as a child. Eldey, in her beloved Wales that had induced a desperate yearning while she’d languished in the secure centre. Eldey, where she would finally get her revenge. 1As soon as Mallory saw Eldey, she knew she wanted the job. After an early start and a wearying train journey from London, she was finally in the open air, a persistent breeze tugging at her hair. It had taken her a moment to get her bearings. The harbour at Tenby was busy with fishing boats bringing in their haul and lines of people waiting for pleasure cruisers offering trips around the bay. The town was considered the jewel in Pembrokeshire’s crown and Mallory could see why. Georgian buildings painted in primary colours overlooked the bay and the place gave off an air of cheery affluence.The summer season was finishing and she’d struggled to find a boat that would take her across to the Cloister Hotel. Finally, a man in his fifties, his face lined from the sun, said he’d make the trip although he wasn’t supposed to be going for another half an hour. Mallory stood on the harbour wall gazing across the water while the skipper fussed with his boat. Eldey, undulating from jagged cliffs to dipping coves, rose from the waves, which gave it a faintly mystical air.She’d researched the Cloister before her interview, of course, but the website had focused on the comforts contained within the walls of the former convent. A lavender sauna, hot tub and long narrow pool in the spa suite, luxurious bedrooms, and Michelin-standard meals. The text was aimed at attracting the wealthy and respectable to Eldey. Here, however, Mallory could see the sweep of the island in its forbidding beauty. Beside the big house, there were a cluster of smaller buildings encircled by trees to provide shelter from the weather. Outside this enclosure, visitors would be confronted with an expanse of nothingness punctuated by stunted trees. It was only at the other point of the island that a smaller, squat building stood. The former chapel, perhaps.In response to a gesture from the tugboat’s captain, Mallory moved forward. She stepped onboard the boat, wrinkling her nose as diesel fumes pumped into the cold air, and felt the swell beneath her feet.‘You staying at the Cloister?’ The weather-beaten man who was to be her pilot was looking at her rucksack. Not the usual luggage for the hotel’s guests, she assumed.‘Yes, but not as a guest. I have a job interview.’‘Ah, the new night manager. You’re the third I’ve carried over today.’‘Really?’ Mallory’s mood sank. ‘I hadn’t realised there would be many applicants.’‘Don’t worry about any of them. The first one I brought back told me he wouldn’t fancy being stuck on the island after dark. A hard man he was, too, looked like a bouncer. But the island does that to some people. The legend around here is the island likes to choose its guests.’It must be busy with a hotel, she thought, enjoying the man’s words. Mallory had to wait a moment as he steered the boat from the shore before they began chugging towards their destination.‘And the other applicant?’ Mallory asked, when they were in deeper water.‘A woman like you. I can’t see Alex, the new owner, going for her.’ The pilot was in his element. ‘High maintenance. She asked me if the town had a John Lewis.’ The man gave a throaty laugh.‘If it’s a boutique hotel, maybe it’s high maintenance that Alex is looking for.’‘Take it from me, it’s not. Alex has got a good reputation around here. He employs locals, pays them a fair wage and he’s an eye for a solid worker. You’re as good a prospect as any and, anyway, the island wants you.’‘What do you mean?’ asked Mallory.‘The swell’s gone down, can’t you tell? There was a wind blowing when you