‘That’s right,’ Shane says. ‘Ryan and Liv, sixteen and eighteen.’
‘Ah, one of each, like us.’ But not any more, the brief silence seems to say. Kamal coughs dryly and the lull stretches until we pull up at the hotel. Shane and I thank him profusely, and in the hotel foyer we stop and look at each other.
‘Well…’ I start uncertainly.
Shane exhales. ‘That was some day, wasn’t it?’
‘It was. So, this thing that Ravi wants us to do?—’
‘It’s bizarre, isn’t it?’ He pushes back his wavy hair and looks around the featureless foyer. It feels wrong now to head straight for our rooms. I need to decompress a bit and try to make sense of Ravi’s request; how she’s set up this project for us. Is it a test, a challenge, or what? We make our way towards the lift. There’s not another soul in sight; no one on reception, even. However, there is a bar. It looked pretty dismal when I glanced in earlier, but I’d hazard a guess that there’s wine – and right now I’d kill for a nightcap.
However, I’m detecting a distinct lack of I’m desperate to spend more time with Josie vibes. More like, Thank God that’s over. I steal a quick look at his handsome face – the soft green eyes, the full, expressive mouth – and a sharp pain seems to needle my heart.
‘Well,’ I start again, ‘it’s getting late…’ Not yet nine thirty. Virtually a child’s bedtime.
‘It is, yeah,’ he agrees.
I jab the button for the lift. An awkward pause settles, and we wait for so long that I start to wonder if the damn thing’s working. There are faint rattles and creaks from a universe light years above us. Shane stuffs his hands into his trouser pockets and looks around as if suddenly captivated by the decor: scuffed white walls, a blue checked carpet, a lone office-type chair with a stained grey seat. My mind whirs as I try to dredge up a conversation starter. Something innocuously space-filling and not about the fabulousness of service stations, with their thrilling facilities. But nothing comes.
Finally, the lift arrives and we step inside. ‘Which floor?’ I ask as if he were a stranger. As if we’d never kissed passionately – and that kiss hadn’t led to so much more – in the derelict mill.
‘Three, please,’ I say.
‘Oh, I’m on three too.’ And this is the part, I muse as we travel upwards, where we discover that we are in adjoining rooms. And at some point during the night, both of us will realise that we can’t stand it. We can’t bear lying in bed, wide awake, and so I blunder out of my room, just as he does, and we meet in the corridor and?—
‘Here we are!’ he announces unnecessarily, stepping back to allow me to spring out first.
‘I’m this way,’ I announce.
‘Oh, I’m along here.’
I force a tight smile, realising that this is probably the last time I’ll ever see him. I feel hollow inside and yearn to throw my arms around him and tell him how sorry I am – about everything. ‘It’s been great seeing you,’ I say.
‘You too!’ he enthuses, with what seems like a sudden wave of relief. The way you become louder and more animated when you sense a job interview drawing to a close. Lovely to meet you! Thank you for seeing me, and now can I get the hell out of here, please!
We hug stiffly and I turn and stroll away casually, waiting for him to call me back: Josie, wait! And when that doesn’t happen, I pluck my key card from my purse, and the door clicks open, and I tumble in and virtually collapse onto the bed.
Instantly, my phone rings in my bag.
My heart jolts. Shane. He wants to talk, after all! I grab at it and glare at the name displayed. My boss, Rupert, is calling me – on a Saturday night.
Decline.
Checking my messages now, I see a whole stack from him.
Josie, something’s happened, need to talk.
I know you’re away but there’s a problem.
JOSIE, CALL ME ASAP!!
8
SHANE
Shane stands motionless in the middle of his boxy little room. His eyes are squeezed shut, and as if an additional protective shield were needed, he has flattened an outstretched hand across his face.
What an idiot. What a total, bloody, patronising fool. ‘Buses can be really pleasant!’ His inane comment ricochets around his head. Thirty-seven years since he last saw Josie and he’s been so stiff and weird, and right now he’d do anything to be time-travelled back to the Kapoors’ garden and do it all differently.
