Fear coursed through me. ‘Get away from me!’ I cried. I turned to the young woman who was looking at me in alarm. ‘Help me, please, this man is dangerous!’
‘It’s all right, Grace,’ Jack said soothingly. He gave the manager a rueful smile. ‘Thank you for letting me know she was here. Now, Grace,’ he continued, as if he was speaking to a child, ‘why don’t we go back up to our room so that you can have a sleep? You’ll feel much better once you’ve rested.’
‘I don’t need a sleep, all I need is to get back to England!’ Aware of people watching us curiously, I made an effort to lower my voice. ‘Give me my passport, Jack, and my purse and mobile.’ I held out my hand. ‘Now.’
He groaned. ‘Why do you always have to do this?’
‘I want my passport, Jack.’
He shook his head. ‘I gave your passport back to you at the airport, as I always do, and you put it in your bag, as you always do.’
‘You know very well it isn’t there.’ I put my bag on the counter and opened it. ‘Look,’ I said to the woman, my voice trembling with emotion. I shook the contents out onto the counter. ‘It isn’t in there and neither is my purse. He took them and …’ I stopped and stared as my passport and purse spilled from my bag, followed by my make-up bag, hairbrush, a packet of wet wipes, a bottle of pills I had never seen before and my mobile.
‘You put them back!’ I cried accusingly to Jack. ‘You came back while I was asleep and replaced them!’ I turned to the manager. ‘They weren’t there before, I swear. He took them, and then he went out, making me believe I was locked in the room.’
The manager looked puzzled. ‘But you can open the door from the inside.’
‘Yes, but he made me think I’d been locked in!’ Even as I said it I could hear how hysterical I sounded.
‘I think I know what happened.’ Jack picked up the bottle of pills and shook it. ‘You forgot to take your medication, didn’t you?’
‘I’m not on medication, they’re not mine, you must have put them there!’ I cried.
‘That’s enough, Grace.’ Jack’s voice was firm. ‘You’re being ridiculous!’
‘Is there anything we can do to help?’ the manager offered. ‘A glass of water, perhaps?’
‘Yes, you can call the police! This man is a dangerous criminal!’ There was a shocked silence. ‘It’s true!’ I added desperately, hearing people murmuring behind me. ‘He killed his own mother. Call the police, please!’
‘This is exactly what I warned you about,’ sighed Jack, exchanging a look with the manager. ‘It’s not the first time this has happened, unfortunately.’ He put his hand under my elbow. ‘Come on, Grace, let’s go.’
I shrugged him off. ‘Will you please just call the police!’ The young woman who I had spoken to first looked uneasily at me. ‘Please!’ I begged. ‘I’m telling the truth!’
‘Look, Grace.’ This time Jack sounded exasperated. ‘If you really want to call the police, go ahead. But do you remember what happened last time? We couldn’t leave the country until they had investigated your claims and, when they realised they were on a wild goose chase, they threatened to sue you for wasting police time. And that was in America. I don’t think the police here will be quite so understanding.’
I stared at him. ‘What last time?’
‘I really do not advise you to involve the police,’ the manager said worriedly. ‘Unless, of course, there is good reason to.’
‘There’s a very good reason to! This man is dangerous!’
‘If Mrs Angel really wants to leave, perhaps we could call a taxi to take her to the airport now that she has found her passport,’ the young woman suggested nervously.
I looked at her in relief. ‘Yes, yes, please do that!’ I began stuffing my things back into my bag. ‘Please call one immediately.’
‘Are you really going to go through with this?’ Jack asked resignedly.
‘Definitely!’
‘Then there’s nothing more I can do.’ He turned to the manager. ‘I really must apologise for all this fuss. Perhaps one of your staff would escort my wife up to our room so that she can collect her case.’
‘Of course. Kiko, would you please take Mrs Angel up to her room while I call for a taxi.’
‘Thank you,’ I said gratefully, as I followed Kiko to the lift, my legs trembling so much I had difficulty walking. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘You’re welcome, Mrs Angel,’ she said politely.
‘I know you probably think that I’m mad but I can assure you I’m not,’ I went on, feeling I owed her some kind of explanation.
‘It’s fine, Mrs Angel, you don’t have to explain.’ She smiled, pressing the button for the lift.
‘You must call the police,’ I told her. ‘Once I’m gone you must call the police and tell them that my husband, Mr Angel, is a dangerous criminal.’
‘I’m sure our manager will sort everything out.’