“What do you reckon?” James asks.
“It looks…”
“Dodgy as fuck,” he says.
“I was going to say cheap.”
“Worth a try, I suppose. We could at least ask about getting our phones fixed. Maybe they can help,” he suggests, squinting down at me.
I peek back at all the people we’ve just walked past to get here. We could’ve asked any of them for help. Well, I suppose we didn’t because we’re both slightly out of sorts now. Even James seems a bit more reserved than before. We need a decent meal, a solid sleep and a damn good shower. That’ll get us back to ourselves. Especially as we’re supposed to be returning to the hotel tomorrow or we’ll miss our flight.
“Come on, then. Knowing our luck, it’ll be too expensive,” I say, pouting as we cross the road towards the building.
The tiny front door is so low James has to duck to get in. The hallway has been redesigned into a reception area with a desk and a bell. The red and white flowery wallpaper is stained and peeling in places along the ceiling. James is just about to ring the bell as an elderly, grey-haired lady pops through a door, wearing an old-fashioned apron.
She blinks at us with her kind yellowy eyes. “Hello there.”
“Afternoon,” James says. “How much are your rooms please?”
“They’re sixty for the night, duck.”
I sigh, I’m about to turn away when James says, “Any chance you could do us a solid and meet us at forty? We’re sort of strapped for cash.”
She makes a face. “Hmm. Can you go without breakfast?”
James looks across at me for confirmation. I say, “Is there hot water?”
“Of course there is,” she says, giving me a sneer, as if I’ve offended her by asking.
“Great, we’ll take it.” I don’t even care if there’s only one bed at this point. There’s a bloody shower, for crying out loud. With hot water! Luxury!
James fishes through his bag looking for the fifty-pound note. Once he’s found it, he hands it across to the lady who makes a face as if we’ve handed her money from a Monopoly game. “We don’t take fifties, duck.”
James pauses as he’s zipping up his backpack. I blink at her across the desk. There’s a moment of silence that drags on.
Then James says, “What do you mean you don’t take fifties?”
“Don’t get shirty with me, young man. This is probably fake.”
“It’s certainly not fake.” James looks to me for assistance.
I shrug. “Does anywhere in the town take fifties?”
“Hmm, the fish ’n’ chip shop probably does.”
“Perfect,” I say. “Come on James. We’ll be back in a bit.”
*
The chips smell like heaven. They’re perfectly greasy, soaking the white paper they’ve been wrapped in as we return to the bed and breakfast with two twenty-pound notes. What an excellent excuse to buy two large portions of chips. They weren’t super happy to give us change for a fifty, but with James’ persuasion, and my quietly-panicked face, we succeeded, returning to collect our key for the night.
Once we’ve been shown to our room and the shared bathroom, we finally plant ourselves down on the bed – me, cross-legged, James, with his back against the headboard. The room isn’t so bad. The bed itself is a little creaky. But it smells alright in here, like rosewater and lavender. There’s an adequate amount of light streaming through the window and reflecting off the oval mirror placed above a dressing table at the side of the room.
We gorge ourselves silly. James is attempting to resuscitate his phone, having seen an Android charger behind the reception desk and begging the lady to lend it to him. It won’t turn on right away so it’s possible it’s flooded. Mine is a lost cause. There’s water behind the main screen – I didn’t even know that was possible.
“We could’ve asked to borrow that lady’s phone, you know? Called Michael and demand he picks us up,” I say, scoffing another chip down.God, it’s so good!Chips are life. Especially when they’re covered in salt and vinegar. Each bite requires diligent finger licking.
James finishes chewing on a chip, then gives me an inquisitive look. There’s something else there too. It looks like a bit of heat has risen into his cheeks. Is he embarrassed?
