Grace’s answer inexplicably made my heart race. The feeling was totally irrational. Henry clearly liked me enough to help me, but he most definitely wasn’t interested in me in that way. “What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from myself.
“No. I broke up with my ex a few months ago. I just want to focus on myself for a bit. This job is supposed to be a temporary solution, until I find out what I really want to do. What about you? What do you do?”
“I’m looking for a job,” I answered. I could hardly tell her I made my money pickpocketing.
Grace and I talked as she cleaned. She was friendly, and we were on the same wavelength. She had a lot of anecdotes about the hotel, from special guest requests to the unsettling things she had seen and heard while she was cleaning. I followed her like a shadow through the rooms and onto the mezzanine, stoppingonly at Henry’s bedroom. Going in there without his permission seemed like a breach of trust.
Grace eventually had to leave to clean other rooms. We said goodbye, and suddenly I was alone again in a huge apartment that didn’t belong to me and where I felt like an intruder. As much as I wanted to be here, I didn’t belong. It wasn’t my world. It was Henry’s.
16
Thanks for your help, Snowflake.
I’ll never forget it.
All the best, Kate
Note from Kate to Henry
Kate
The words on the note seemed completely insignificant in light of everything that Henry had given me. Not only had he saved me from the storm, but thanks to him, I’d also felt like a proper human for a few hours. I would miss that feeling even more than I would miss the luxury. I had grown so used to having no home, no security, and no comforts that I hadn’t questioned my extremely precarious state of instability over the past few months. Now that I knew it could be different, the thoughts I’d successfully repressed since my mum’s death came flooding back.
“Stop it,” I chided myself, and drew a little heart in the top right-hand corner of my note. I put it on the kitchen table in the exact same spot where Henry had left his own note earlier that morning. Part of me wanted to wait and say goodbye in person, but leaving felt hard enough as it was, harder than it really shouldhave been. It was best this way. I only wished I knew if and when I’d see him again.
I shouldered my rucksack and the clothes bag with my blankets. They were clean, dry, and folded neatly, and smelled like lavender. At least their scent would remind me of The Darlington and Henry for a couple of nights. I scanned the penthouse apartment one last time before stepping out into the wide corridor and pulling the door shut behind me. There was no going back now.
I made my way to the lift, with its old vintage display. I pressed the call button and watched the needle move from left to right as the lift ascended, until finally the door slid open with a ding. I stepped inside and pressed the button for the first floor. My stomach dropped as the lift descended. The ride took no more than a few seconds, but it felt like minutes. By the time the lift door opened, the weight of my rucksack seemed to have doubled.
I took a deep breath and exited, but my steps faltered as I entered the foyer for the first time—last night, Henry and I had entered the hotel through the underground car park. Not even Henry’s lavish apartment could have prepared me for the sight.
The sheer grandeur of The Darlington’s lobby took my breath away. The ceiling soared impossibly high, adorned with intricate stucco details accented by golden elements. I had to tilt my head back to fully take in the tops of the marble columns. They were awe-inspiring, majestic in a way that made me feel even smaller and more insignificant. Massive chandeliers lit the foyer. They were made not of modern stainless steel like the ones in Henry’s apartment but of matte gold. Despite their size, the metal flowers and vines entwined around them made them seem delicate and gave them a graceful charm. Everything in the foyer gleamed and sparkled in their light, especially the imposing gold statue atthe centre of the space. It depicted two women in flowing dresses, so lifelike that I felt an irresistible urge to touch them, curious about whether their skin would really be cold.
Clusters of armchairs and sofas in beige and gold made the foyer feel cosy despite its splendour. These were flanked by side tables adorned with lavish floral arrangements, with not a single wilted leaf among them. This must have been the source of the sweet scent that filled the foyer, mingling with the gentle strains of music coming from a man playing a gleaming grand piano near the fireplace.
I’d already felt out of place in Henry’s apartment, but this wasn’t just another world—it was another unfathomable galaxy. I cautiously placed one foot on the sage-and-terracotta carpet, identical to the one I had seen on the top floor. It stretched across the entire lobby, leading to a grand staircase that ascended to a set of polished wooden double doors. What lay behind them? I crept towards the exit, my steps barely audible against the backdrop of the soft music.
“Miss!” a voice called suddenly.
It was clear that I was being addressed, because besides an older woman wearing the same uniform as Grace, I was the only person in the lobby. I turned to face reception, with its counter of gleaming marble. Behind it stood a man in a suit. He rounded the desk and approached me, looking so impeccable that had it not been for a name tag pinned to his lapel reading “Mr. Gardner,” I might have mistaken him for a hotel guest.
“Where are you going?” asked Mr. Gardner.
I pointed at the exit. “Out.”
“And who are you?”
“Kate.”
Mr. Gardner looked at me, waiting.
“Hamilton,” I added. I hadn’t said my last name in a long time. Where I came from, last names weren’t important.
He scrutinised me. “You aren’t a hotel guest.”
“No, that’s why I’m leaving.”
“Hold on a moment, please.”
