And when it finally sunk in, that the trust I’d placed in Nick was a mistake; that my judgement was all wrong when it came to men –again– it was just like that inevitable impact with the gravel path. Bouncing along, scraping and bruising every conceivable inch of my body, the momentum dragging the collision out, until I finally came to rest in a bush, lungs completely empty of air, stinging and throbbing.
Nickwas the Hotel Hopper.
All this time, he’d been following me around, finding out all the worst things he possibly could about the hotel, and he was going to write them all down and tell everyone. He’d sneered in that blog post at the mince pies the other night – the pies he’d helped memake. What kind of twisted individual did that? He’d said he would help me, then wrote a derogatory blog as though he didn’t knowwhythe bar wasn’t open. He’d tricked me and lied to me. Was the whole thing revenge to get back at me for lying to him about the angel? I reached out to lean on the table.
‘Beth?’ A little girl was calling me. Holly came running out from the library. ‘There you are. Come on. Amelie got some glitter pens in her stocking. Is that the angel?’
I allowed her to take my hand and lead me into the dining room. I sat with them at the little table and we cleaned and decorated the battered fairy. Her hair ended up a rainbow of colours and she had smears of silver glitter on her cheeks and down her arms. Then they glued sequins to her dress. And all the while I smiled and moved around like normal, while inside my throat ached and my chest was cold and numb, as I refused to think about it.
We had a small ceremony where I shoved the fairy crookedly next to the star in the lobby. After a round of applause, the kids ran off to watchA Muppet Christmas Carolin the lounge.
Finally, I’d got the angel on the tree. She’d nearly been flattened by Nick, but I’d saved her, and we’d given her a make-over. I doubted the glue would survive until it was time to pack up the Christmas stuff and she looked completely out of place next to all my mum’s pristine, designer decorations, but she was there, doing her job and making the guests smile. For the time being at least.
The intensity of the longing I had to see my mum was so strong, tears sprung up to my eyes. Not because I wanted her to see the angel or that the guests were happy. I just missed her. It was Christmas Day and I hadn’t even had a chance to speak to her.
The thought immediately swung me into thinking about how much worse it must be for Nick and Stephen to be missing their mum today…but I couldn’t think about Nick. I knew he was genuinely hurting; he hadn’t faked that. I couldn’t make myself believe that. But he hadn’t been truthful about who he was either. He should have told me about reviewing the hotel.
All my emotions were building up for another release. I didn’t feel like I fit inside my skin anymore. I was a violently shaken bottle of lemonade and when the top blew off, I had no idea if I was going to turn into a sobbing wreck or start punching walls.
I went into the kitchen and started scrubbing everything I could get my hands on. My arms ached, so much so, I was beginning to wonder if I was coming down with the same flu everyone else had caught.
The door swung open behind me and I heard Nick’s voice, just like I had that morning. ‘Beth, how’s everything going? I’m sorry I’ve not been around. Have you been okay?’
My heart wasn’t pounding with excitement this time though. It was a sickening throb and I couldn’t even bring myself to turn around and look at him. ‘I wouldn’t tell you, even if I wasn’t.’
‘What?’
I could see his reflection in the darkness of the window by the sink, tall and too familiar, even after just a few days together. I’d been hoping to avoid him. I wasn’t planning on tracking him down on and having it out with him, a strategic retreat had been more desirable, but here we were. Another kitchen, another confrontation with a man where all the ugly truth would come out.
‘I think you’ve got quite enough material to use against me, as it is, haven’t you?’ I remarked tightly, plunging the small roasting tin under the suds and holding it down like I was trying to drown it.
‘I don’t understand. What d’you mean “material”?’
‘There’s no point acting dumb. I know the truth. I know you’re the Hotel Hopper.’
‘Thewho?’
I shook off my hands and spun around, finally facing him. My anger and the pull of his presence too much for me to resist anymore.
‘Just. Stop.Lyingto me. I’m so sick of men lying to me and treating me like I’m an idiot.’
‘I haven’t lied to you. I’ve never lied to you. And an “idiot” is thelastthing I think you are.’ He looked so sincere, and I thought of all the words he’d used to describe me yesterday: ‘fearless’ and ‘beautiful’. He’d seemed sincere when he said those too. It was the worst feeling to think that he hadn’t meant those things. I could feel it like a fissure, opening me up inside where I’d barely healed from Peter.
‘I can’t deal with this anymore.’ I grabbed a tea towel and started drying my hands, trying not to show him just how much I was falling apart. ‘I’m too tired. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I’d like you to leave please. This is the staff area; guests aren’t supposed to be back here.’
He looked around the kitchen as though there were some answers hiding in the corners. He really was a very good actor.
‘Half the guests in the hotel have been in this kitchen today from what I heard,’ he pointed out slowly.
‘Yes, they have. Read between the lines.’ I slapped the tea towel down again and crossed my arms tightly over my chest. ‘And write whatever you want about that in your blog – I can’t stop you.’ I tipped my chin up. ‘Just remember, there are people who rely on this hotel for a living. It might be fun to run someone down, pick on all the faults, but it has consequences beyond a million likes or shares or whatever it is that you’re after.’
‘I genuinely do not have a clue what you are talking about.’ He held his hands up and shook his head. ‘It’s like one of us has gone insane and I’m struggling to figure out which one of us it is.’
That last comment pushed me over the edge.
‘Fine,’ I snapped. ‘I’mcrazy. We’ll go with that line. If you’re backed into a corner, gaslight the woman, yeah? God, I really thought you were better than that, but you’re just as bad as all the others.’
‘What others?’ For the first time, his voice rose. ‘Your ex? Lydia told me how he treated you and I hate that he hurt you that way, but it doesn’t mean that every other man is a liar.’
