When it had been clear that they’d reach Versailles by 9p.m., Brad had encouraged Bella – who’d wanted nothing more than to go straight home and collapse – to call Yves. ‘We can’t deliver the furniture in broad daylight,’ he’d reasoned. ‘And we don’t have another day to lose!’
Yves had agreed to stay back until 11p.m., when most of the guests would be in their rooms and reception would be closed for the night. Claudine was back at work, but had sloped off about five hours previously, so the coast was clear. But the subterfuge looked as if it might be too much for Yves; his eyes were ringed with grey.
‘We really do appreciate it,’ Bella said again.
‘Ah, it is not completely altruistic,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t want to lose my job if Claudine has to close.’
As the two men took each end of a chest of drawers, Bella picked up a small bedside cabinet and followed, setting it down every few metres for a rest. When they reached the corridor, she could smell fresh paint; she momentarily closed her eyes, praying to the god of interior design – if such a being existed – that they’d be pleased with the job that Brad’s friend had done.
The automatic light illuminated the corridor as they manoeuvred along in virtual silence, and for a moment it was as if the whole hotel were holding its breath. They were all so focused on reaching the room and getting the furniture inside that when the door at the opposite end of the corridor clicked open, they all jumped.
A figure approached, most of its body hidden behind an enormous rectangle. Bella glanced at Yves and saw the horror on his face. Was it Claudine back for an impromptu visit to the scene of the crime?
‘Oh!’ the rectangle said.
The light at their end of the corridor flicked on as they passed, and Bella gave a sigh of relief. It was Odette, carrying a new seascape Bella had never seen before. As her friend set it down with a groan, she put down the bedside cabinet she was carrying and rushed forward, arms outstretched. ‘It’s so good to see you!’
‘It has only been a day!’ Odette looked amused. ‘I am sorry if I shocked you, but I wanted to get this in the room before the manager returned. I came earlier and she was back. I had to pretend I was from the original gallery.’ Her cheeks pinked.
‘I’m sorry,’ Bella found herself saying.
‘It’s OK. She believed me. So that was good. Perhaps brilliant – after all, she thought my painting was from the gallery. But she told me to go, that they couldn’t afford any more art.’
‘Odette, you must know your work is good enough for any gallery.’
Setting down his end of the chest of drawers, Yves flicked the key card against the sensor and the door opened.
‘Oh my God,’ Bella breathed. The walls were immaculate, the bedding replaced. Odette’s paintings hung on two of the walls, clearly original and high-end. The tray of delicacies had been replaced, and the candles removed. And a curtain hung at the window, resplendent in light green silk, embroidered with gold thread. Then, ‘Oh my God!’ she said again when she realised that at the other end of the curtain pole was a diminutive old woman, standing on a stool, balancing on one leg as she threaded the curtains back where they belonged. ‘Madame Roux!’ she said, rushing to steady her. ‘You should have waited.’
Madame Roux looked down, her eyes glittering. ‘But I could not,’ she said, threading the last ring and allowing Bella to help her down. She dusted her hands together with satisfaction. ‘I cannot tell you how satisfying it has been to be working again. To feel useful.’
‘And you really have been,’ Bella said, taking in the transformation to the window as if for the first time. With Madame Roux’s embroidery and Odette’s original artwork, the room was more impressive than it had been the first time.
Yves and Brad heaved the chest of drawers into place, and they all stood back and looked at the result.
‘Well, one thing’s for sure,’ Brad said confidently. ‘If the guys from Hotel Club don’t like it, there’s something wrong with them.’
Bella looked at his face, which seemed to be almost glowing with satisfaction, and had three thoughts. The first was that he was right – they’d be fools not to love the new rooms. The second was that it was amazing that someone who didn’t really have a vested interest in their success seemed so pleased on their behalf. And the third was accompanied by a pang of regret. She’d had the chance in the car to tell him how she felt, how she was beginning to feel. But she’d brushed him off. Because somehow, this man, who’d come into in her life in the most unexpected way – appearing in her bedroom in the middle of the night, and making her angrier than she’d been in months – had made her feel something she hadn’t experienced properly since her mother had died. Hope. Excitement. And a sense that, after all, her story might even have a happy ending.
50
NOW
‘You know, I should really have you arrested,’ Claudine said the next morning when Bella nervously entered the office and confessed to what they’d done.
She looked tired, her eyes edged in grey.
‘Seriously?’
‘Why not? You are telling me that you broke into my hotel, made material changes without consent?’
‘But criminals don’t usually—’ Bella’s words faded under Claudine’s severe gaze.
‘What? Gain entry without permission?’
‘Paint,’ she finished lamely. ‘Sort out the decor.’
Claudine snorted. ‘Perhaps not, but what you did was still wrong.’
