hand.
Two minutes later, Del appeared in the doorway."So I can’t help but notice that good ol' dandy Bertie is unpacking his things in our room."
"Oh yeah," said Allie. "Sorry about that. He wanted to switch."
"Sorry? You're sorry about this? This room is ten times as gorgeous as that slum we just came from."
"It is, isn’t it? Bertie said he hates the sun."
"Well Bertie's nuts, you know that. His loss." Del surveyed the room, and then snapped her head back quickly. "Our own bathroom!"
Allie found herself giggling like a schoolgirl. This did actually feel like a schoolgirl's sleepover.
"I'm happy to see you found your way here."
"Yeah, well, Bertie gave me a map. So, all this on a software CEO’s salary, eh?"
"That's about the size of it."
"Oh, hey..." Del's voice became low and gossipy and she splayed herself across the bed and leaned on her elbows, her legs crossed in the air. "How about Ms. Rachel Forrester?"
"I expected a bit of a colder reception."
"Excuse me; you could make ice cubes with her breath."
"No, I really was expecting something else. I guess she's almost over it. There comes a time when you just have to stop hating one another."
"How about Gordon's wife?"
"Now there's a piece of work."
"A gold-digging piece of work," said Del.
"I sort of got that impression. Oh, and then there's Jürgen."
"And then there's Jürgen."
Allie giggled again. "Was he always that creepy?"
"Um, yeah. I'm surprised you don’t remember."
"I guess I only remember what I want to remember."
"Welcome to humanity, my dear. Enjoy the buffet."
"Yeah, well, I was almost looking forward to this weekend. But there's a strange feeling in this house. You feel it?"
Del thought for a moment. "Yeah, I felt it when I saw it."
"No, it's not the appearance. The appearance is lovely and gothic and spooky and fun. I'm talking about the air in here, the mood. There's something heavy, like ether."
"I don’t smell anything."
"I was being metaphorical. There's a feeling here I can’t describe. It's like..." Allie searched for the words while looking out one of the four thin windows that let in the last of the day's fading light. "It's like one of these people did something terrible and everyone knows about it, only no one is talking about it."
Del nodded. "Yeah, I kinda see what you mean. Almost like we missed something by arriving so late."
Allie slapped the girl on the shoulder. "Exactly!"
"Ow! I really wish you'd stop doing that."
"Come on," said Allie, "help me unpack."
"Oh yes," said Del, rising from the bed, "that reminds me. What do you think of Monsieur Le French or whatever his name is?"
"Monsieur Michaud?" Allie said in a cartoonish accent. "Definitely a character."
"He frightens me."
"Everyone frightens you. As an actress you should be more receptive to people."
"I'm receptive and observant. I don’t have to enjoy it."
Allie stopped unpacking and looked at the mound of clothes on the bed. "How long