‘Green is very this season.’
Bella, leaning against the door-frame and admiring the freshly painted room, looked to see who was talking to her. Madame Roux was standing there, still bundled up in a winter suit despite the heat, nodding approvingly.
‘You like it?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Yes. Of course!’
Madame Roux nodded. ‘It’s good.’
‘Thank you.’
She smiled. It was nice to have someone’s approval. Especially someone whose good opinion was hard-won.
Since Henri had interrupted their heart-to-heart in the kitchen the previous week, Bella had felt a distance between her and Brad. Something about the intimacy they’d experienced during that week of work together had dissipated.
Or perhaps she’d misread the signs completely.
At least the hotel seemed to be coming together. She’d finished writing the presentation, the two Superior rooms were painted, and she’d managed to source some artwork from a local gallery to hang on the walls.
Each room had a king-size bed with new linen in a complementary colour to the walls: rich greens and blues, creating a calming feel. The art depicted forests and trees – and she had named each room too. ‘La forêt’ and ‘Le bord de mer’. The idea was that Hôtel Benjamin would become a retreat – a place to escape from the hustle and bustle of Paris, yet still be present in the heart of the city. Outside: Paris; inside: Peyrat.
These rooms would be showcased on the night, but she’d made sure that prints of suitable artwork had been put up in the others, that bedding and soft furnishings had been changed to reflect the mood of the hotel. In time, they would upgrade the rest but hopefully the theme, and the idea, would be enough to convince the Hotel Club representatives that Hôtel Benjamin was a suitable match for their brand.
The entrance to the hotel had been altered too. She’d managed to source an old, carved reception desk, with cupboards behind that had once been used in an apothecary’s. The wood was worn and authentic-looking and created a charming contrast to the smart, white plastered walls. The seating had been changed too, replaced with mismatched vintage chairs – all solid and in good condition. Finally, she’d managed to find a company who could create ‘living pictures’ with foliage and fauna growing out of specially made frames. Stepping into the space did feel worlds away from the street outside.
None of this would have happened without Brad. Sure, a lot of the ideas had come from her, and she’d fleshed them out and made them work. But it was his explanation, his structure, his calm measure of the problem that had got her off the starting blocks. She’d invited him to the presentation the following week, but wasn’t sure whether he was going to come.
In fact, for the first time in months, she was feeling quite alone.
Despite everything seemingly going well in her professional life, her personal life was once again in tatters.
Henri, after his performance, had distanced himself from her – perhaps embarrassed – and seemed to have started dating someone else. Odette hadn’t mentioned the business card. Brad didn’t seem to be fully present when he was with her. She still didn’t talk much to Kitty or Juliette, unable to face what might be their incredulity at her situation.
It was nice to have someone speaking to her, even if it was Madame Roux, even if she knew that Claudine thought of her as a nuisance.
Coco snuffled at her feet, and she bent down and tried to stroke it. The dog snarled a little, baring her teeth.
‘Oh, don’t mind Coco, she’s very friendly once you get to know her,’ Madame Roux said, looking at her little dog with as much love as a mother gazing at her newborn.
‘Sure.’ Bella straightened, feeling quite lucky to still have her fingers.
‘Well, good luck. I doubt I’ll see you again.’ Madame Roux turned and gave a small wave of her hand.
A surge of nauseous anxiety rose inside Bella’s chest. ‘I’m sorry, what do you mean?’ Did Madame Roux know something about her prospects that she didn’t? Surely that would all be decided after the Hotel Club visit in any case.
Madame Roux turned. ‘Claudine hasn’t told you?’
‘Told me what?’
‘I’m going. She’s found a home for me. For old people. One that will let me take Coco. I’ve no business living in a hotel for so long.’
‘Oh. That’s— I mean, that’s good. Is it?’
Madame Roux lifted a shoulder and let it fall. ‘We all get old,’ she said. ‘But the real age comes when we lose our independence.’
‘But—’
