‘You could’ve called her Noelle – that would’ve worked with the Christmas theme too.’
‘Oh, Noelle. What a phenomenal woman. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her.’
‘I’m so pleased she was staying at the hotel and you decided to come up that night.’
‘It was fate.’
‘I suppose.’ I smiled, even though I wasn’t sure things were written in the stars at all. There was good luck and there was bad luck and you just kind of did the best you could with what you got.
And something about that thought resonated with me. I’d been struggling so much recently between how Peter had treated me and the things Henry had said to me, making me think I was some kind of layabout, expecting others to take care of me. But it wasn’t true. My mother had supported me to get my degree, like most parents tried to, and then Peter had said he could be the main breadwinner – I hadn’t asked him to – and as for Henry’s accusations of nepotism, they weren’t right either. The reason my mum had given me a job at the hotel was because I’d been working there since I was a teenager. And if she really did want me to take on a managerial role permanently, it wasn’t like I’d sitting back with my feet up taking credit and a big salary for other people’s efforts. Managing that hotel, the way my mum – and I – felt guests deserved was a dedicated job. The question now was whether I really wanted to give up on teaching music to do that.
If I thought Rachel might have noticed I’d been quiet for a long time, one glance at her besotted face, staring at her newborn, alleviated my concern. She was in a glorious little bubble, completely falling in love with her daughter, and probably couldn’t have cared less if I’d been abducted by aliens. It was sort of beautiful.
‘Noelle said you were pretty amazing too. What were her words: “a trouper” I think it was.’
‘Oh God bless her. There was no time to be anything but a trouper, I guess. This little lady was coming whether I was ready for her or not.’ She paused at the corner of the green and tucked the baby’s blanket in. Ivy was fast asleep already. ‘Do you have Noelle’s address or email, so I can get something to her to thank her?’
‘Oh, sure. No problem. She did give me her contact details, so I’ll just check with her it’s okay before I pass them on. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.’
‘Thank you too, Beth. You really took charge of us all. It was so obvious you’re a teacher. You put on this voice and all the hapless men fell into line. It was brilliant.’
I laughed at the thought. All the men really had been hapless.
‘If you’re still living here when Ivy’s big enough, we’ll be sending her straight up to you for her music tutoring. You know, if she wants to play an instrument. I don’t want to be one of those pushy parents—’
And off she went into a monologue about what she wanted to do for the brand-new shiny person she was responsible for. We finished our walk around the green and said goodbye at her front door.
I took a slow walk up the hill, still thinking about good luck and bad luck, not really looking where I was going, and my boot connected with something in the snow. I looked down at the slush and there it was. My phone, at the edge of the path. I didn’t know if that counted as good or bad luck considering it was wrecked and I’d need a new handset, but there it was. I must’ve lost it when Nick and I were pushing the wheelbarrow up the hill on Christmas Eve. I dug it out and slipped it into my pocket, wondering whether he was going to put that part in his blog. I hadn’t looked it up since I found out it was him. It would be strange – not to mention painful – to hear the words on the screen, judging our hotel, in his voice.
Back in my bedroom in my trusty PJs again, I swapped my SIM card into an old handset, put the snow-logged one in a bag of rice in the airing cupboard just in case and then fired off a quick email to Noelle, giving her my number. She called me before I could even get my legs under the duvet.
‘Hey there, stranger, I’m so pleased you emailed me. I hated that I didn’t get to say goodbye. Plus, I am stuck waiting at Heathrow for my flight outta here and I ambored. How are you? Recovered from Christmas yet?’
I grinned and reassured her I was fine. It was surprisingly comforting to talk to Noelle again. Sometimes people say they want to stay in touch and give you every indication that they’re genuine and yet you never hear from them again. Noelle had meant it.
We chatted about her flight delay and the obligations she was facing when she got home, from her family and her deadline. I told her how Rachel wanted her contact details so she could send her something as a thank you and what they’d called the baby. And then the conversation wound around to her ‘investigation’ about the mysterious blogger.
‘I figured out who the Hotel Hopper is. D’you wanna know?’
I folded my legs underneath me and smoothed the duvet over them. I didn’t need to say anything. She was going to tell me anyway.
‘It was totally like an Agatha Christie mystery because – get this – it was two people, not one, that we were looking for. June and Jane.’
Chapter Twenty-One
‘Huh?’
‘I know. The mother and daughter. I can’t believe I didn’t suss it out sooner. They were always taking photos and typing away on their phones. And then, at the Christmas party, June or was it Jane – I dunno, I never got them straight in my head – one of them anyway, was taking photos of the guests, but also getting their permission to post them online.’
‘Oh God.’ I remembered her pulling me into a photo before I went upstairs to see Nick. ‘Are you sure, Noelle?’ My voice was faint, and I wet my lips.
‘Yeah. I started chatting to her, once I suspected, and got the conversation onto other holidays and places they’d been, and they married up with the research I’d done on the hotels reviewed over the last few months on the blog.’
My chest rose and fell sharply. ‘I’ve made a terrible mistake.’
‘Why? What’s wrong?’
‘Did you tell Stephen about the Hotel Hopper and how we were trying to work out who they were?’
