Page 29 of Benidorm Again

The concierge says nothing but walks over to the bookshelf and presses on it.

I see that it is not a bookshelf but a secret door leading to a very sumptuous ensuite. It has a huge deep, stand-alone, copper bath in front of a massive sash window overlooking York Minster. What an incredible view. I’m drawn to the neat rows of bottles. Expensive hair and skin products linethe shelves. Piles of fluffy white towels tower beside the bath. More soaps and potions sit by the large double sink. The smells blooming out are incredible. It’s like wandering through Fenwick’s perfume counter. I feel like running a hot bath just so I can pour them all in and soak in the expensive bubbles.

‘The rest of your luggage will arrive imminently and be unpacked for you,’ says the concierge. ‘Anything you need, just ask.’

As soon as the concierge has gone, there’s a knock at my door. It must be the porter with my luggage. I will ask him if all the chocolates by the tea and coffee machine are free because they are from an artisanal chocolatier. Ditto the bathroom things and ditto the minibar. I have no idea. I also need my dress dry-cleaned and ready for tonight now that Dolly is not here to sort things out for me. I pull open the door, expecting to see a trolley with my cases, but Luke is leaning casually in the doorway.

‘Room, okay?’ he asks, casting his eye around.

I will stop him in his tracks. There’s no way I have time to go exploring. Not when I have a Vegas pre-moon to organise. He’s about to step across the threshold when I yelp, ‘Ready to go?’

Gah!I didn’t even want to go exploring with him, but I feel that’s a better option than him coming into my room. My bedroom. Where’s there’s a huge four-poster bed everywhere you turn.

Luke bows elaborately. ‘As you wish.’

Like this is somehow my idea?I need to get a grip. I am panic deciding instead of being more focused and standing my ground. I have a million things to do and not much time to do them.

I lock the door behind me. I will sort the dry cleaning out later. And the shopping for the Las Vegas outfits. And the research for the pre-moon spree will have to be done after the performance tonight. Things will have to be booked in advance, so I need to check in with Nancy about which nights we are singing and where, so that I can book restaurants and VIP areas for us. I will also have to check that we will be allowed into America looking like pornstar versions of Barbie and Ken. The list is endless!

‘Okay, what did you want to show me? But make it quick because I have things to do,’ I say, sounding a bit like an ungrateful brat.

I see a hurt expression cross his face.

‘Sorry,’ I quickly apologise. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I guess I’m still on edge. It’s not every day you’re accusedof… being in a love triangle. In the national newspapers. It’s just all been a bit surreal.’ I chew my lip as I study him. Suddenly, the weight of the past two bonkers days and the next few bonkers weeks that lie ahead falls heavily onto my shoulders.

Luke remains quiet for a while.

‘I’m truly sorry you’ve been dragged into it. I’d like to explain.’

‘Sure,’ I inwardly sigh. I’m not sure in the slightest. The more personal distance we can keep the better. ‘Okay.’

A short while later, Luke and I are wandering through the cobbled lanes of York, taking in the sights, the beamed architecture on wonky old houses and shops that are centuries old and straight out of Harry Potter. The place is so charming and atmospheric that I forget he has yet to explain himself. I am catapulted back to a time when my parents first brought me here. We had such fun finding the many cat statues that dot the rooftops and chimneys.

‘Did you know some of the cats date back to medieval times?’ Luke says, catching me staring at one of the cats on the eaves of a shop, as I’m lost in thought. ‘Supposedto scare off rats and pigeons, but I like to think they are there to bring good luck.’

That’s what my mother once told me. A warm image of her hugging me pops into my mind. I can almost feel her arms around me.

‘How come you know York so well? Do you live here in England? Have you been with the Sinfonia long? ’ I’m curious to know. ‘I can’t trace any Norwegian accent.’

‘I’ll tell you over lunch,’ Luke says with a warm smile.

‘I am starving,’ I say. ‘I skipped breakfast.’

‘Also, probably my fault,’ he says. ‘Bet you didn’t think these classical tours would be so full of drama.’

‘Or scary Maestros. What is his deal?’

‘Ah. He’s not without his own salacious gossip either. The tales I have heard about him!’

I have to admit, Luke is very easy company. Maybe I have been too hasty to judge. Maybe the frisson between us is all in my head. Maybe he views me as nothing more than a platonic co-worker that he once saved from being flattened by a bus.

‘Seeing as it is such a lovely day, would you like to take lunch al fresco?’ Luke asks.

‘Lovely,’ I say. The more open and public the space, and the more platonic,the better.

‘The hotel has great private dining options.’

Gawd.I’m about to protest politely when he qualifies his statement.

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