If Gregor hadn’t been so hungry, he would have taken a shower before he went down for breakfast. As it was, his stomach felt not only empty but full of sandpaper. He was queasy and weak. He was sure he wouldn’t feel any better until he had eaten at least four eggs. He dressed in what he thought of as casual clothes, and what Bennis called his “Ozzie Nelson outfit.” It consisted of good gray slacks, a white button-down shirt, wool sweater with a V-neck, and a tie. Then he went downstairs in search of the dining room and breakfast, hoping against hope that it hadn’t already been removed.
Gregor had no need to worry. Once he was out of the guest wing and onto the second-floor landing, he could smell food and coffee. Once he was halfway down the stairs, he could hear people talking in the kind of tense, exasperated voices he supposed were only natural under the circumstances. Getting ready upstairs, Gregor had half hoped to find the dining room empty except for Lydia Acken, whom he very much wanted to talk to. Now he knew that even if Lydia Acken were eating her breakfast right this minute, he would never have a chance to get her alone. He could hear at least four different voices, snapping at each other.
Gregor made his way around the shrouded body of Tasheba Kent, through the foyer, and into the great double doors of the dining room. He was surprised to see that they were all there, with the exception of Cavender Marsh, although some of them looked far more awake and alert than others. Hannah Graham and Mathilda Frazier looked particularly awful, as if they were forcing themselves upright and inhaling too much coffee to keep themselves that way. Kelly Pratt, on the other hand, looked well-pressed and refreshed, as if he’d had a perfectly adequate night’s sleep. Lydia Acken was somewhere in the middle. She looked awake enough, but as if she would rather not be.
Gregor came the rest of the way into the dining room, said “Good morning,” and headed for the sideboard where silver serving trays were set out in a row. He got himself a plate, a cup, and a saucer. He filled the cup with black coffee and the plate with breakfast sausages and scrambled eggs. Then he turned around and put the plate, the cup, and the saucer down at one of the empty places on this side of the table. That was when he noticed they were staring at him. They had all stopped talking. They had all stopped eating. They were just sitting very still, watching him move.
Gregor sat down in front of his food. He cleared his throat. “Well,” he said. “Good morning.”
Gregor was sure that he had already said this once. He wasn’t sure that any of them had heard. None of them answered him now. Gregor picked up the fork at his place and speared a piece of breakfast sausage. Even Bennis looked shocked.
“Excuse me,” Gregor said carefully. “Have I missed something here? Is there anything wrong?”
Bennis lit a cigarette and blew a stream of smoke into the air. “It’s amazing. He’s really going to eat that thing.”
“Of course I’m going to eat it,” Gregor said. “I’ve been up all night. I’m starving.”
“Most of us have had a little trouble this morning working up an appetite,” Richard Fenster said tartly.
“Except for Kelly,” Mathilda Frazier said in a listless voice. “He’s just as bad as you are.”
Kelly Pratt was in the middle of finishing off an enormous piece of toast piled high with butter and jam. He swallowed the last big chunk of it and grinned.
“I don’t see what you’re letting it put you off your food for,” he said. “It’s just a body and you can’t even see it. It’s covered with a sheet. I say just ignore it and get on with your life.”
“I can’t just get on with my life if I’m stuck on this damn island,” Hannah Graham snapped, “and I can’t just ignore the body of someone I’m related to, sprawled out dead and stiff in the middle of the staircase I have to use every time I want to go upstairs. Of course it’s put me off my food. It’s grotesque.”
Down at the far end of the table, Geraldine Dart stirred. “You know, Mr. Demarkian, it really is awful to have her there. And it’s not like we’re going to be able to do something about it any time soon. The weather reports—”
“The weather reports are lousy,” Richard Fenster finished for her. “It’s supposed to be more or less like this all day. Then it’s supposed to calm down tonight, but what they mean by calming down isn’t going to help us much.”
“It could be as late as Sunday before we are able to get off of here and get some help,” Geraldine Dart said, “and the idea of leaving her there like that, in the middle of the stairs, where we all have to keep stepping over her—” Geraldine shook her head and shuddered.