Page 48 of One Summer Weekend
If I hadn’t been delayed, I’d have seen him … I blinked several times to clear the sudden mist from my eyes. ‘The key card, please.’
‘Certainly, here it is.’
This time I climbed the stairs at a more measured pace, willing myself to believe – oh, all sorts of things. That he’d gone out on a last-minute errand – the razor that I’d teased him about, perhaps … That there’dbeen a misunderstanding about meeting in the room, and he was waiting for me in the bar … Or, most likely, the man at Reception was an incompetent fool and had confused Jack with someone else – which meant that this was a spare key card after all, and Jack simply hadn’t heard my knock.
And then … as soon as I opened the door of room 109, I knew that he wasn’t there. I stood on the thresholdand let the emptiness sink in. He’d made the bed before he left – not very proficiently, as though in a hurry. But was it a hurry to get his errand over and done with, or a hurry to be away before I returned? I would know soon enough. No sign of his clothes, the ones he’d been wearing before he went shopping. In fact, I couldn’t see any trace of him … Except for a piece of paper next to the kettle,starkly white against the dark wood of the shelf; folded in on itself, betraying nothing of its contents.
With a shiver of inevitability, I entered the room and let the door click shut behind me. My fingers shook as I picked up the piece of paper. I held it at arm’s length and walked stiffly to the bed. Then I sat down, unfolded it, and took a lungful of air.
So you think I’vegot personal baggage that’s clouding my judgement and becoming a barrier to my performance? As for counselling, I’ll be the one to decide if I need to see a shrink – no one else. Anyway, looks like I was just the warm-up act for the American. I can’t stand watching you with him, and I’m not going to hang around while you turn me into your latest case study – so I’m going home. Don’t bother tryingto call me – I’ve already blocked your number.
Dry-mouthed, I read it again and again – as if the words might change, a different meaning emerge … He’d got it completely wrong, of course – he was no warm-up act for anyone, least of all Troy. I had to find him, talk to him ... Euston station, that was where he’d be; and trains to Manchester ran frequently – there was no time to lose.
Just as I reached the door, someone knocked – a loud knock, confident of an answer. My heart started to pound – he’d come back! I flung the door open, ready with a rueful smile.
But it wasn’t Jack at all.
It was Troy, with a rueful smile of his own, arms spread in a gesture of reconciliation – even as his gaze sidestepped mine to survey the room behind me. I had no doubt thathe was checking whether anyone else was there, and my lips set in a grim line.
I said coldly, ‘How did you know where I was?’
‘I got rid of Di and followed you.’ His voice was soft and mild-mannered, recalling his first words to me earlier:What an unexpected pleasure! At least, it’s a pleasure for me. Let’s hope you can say the same. But I wasn’t deceived: this was a surface civility,from a man brimming with negative emotion – and I represented the ideal outlet.
He went on, ‘Can I come in, honey?’
‘No.’ I braced my body across the threshold, one hand gripping the door handle, the other clutching the security chain, still on its hook; too late to use it now. ‘What do you want?’
‘A chance to explain.’
A bitter little laugh. ‘You had your chance threeyears ago, in another hotel bedroom – remember?’
‘Oh, Aleesha.’ The way he said my name – half sigh, half groan – spun like a stone into a pool of memories …
Get a grip, get agrip.‘Over here it’s “Alicia”, if you don’t mind.’
‘Of course …Aleesha.’ Before I could protest, he cupped my face in his hands; I tried to pull back, but he was too strong. ‘In that other hotel bedroom,did you really think it was that simple?’
‘Yes, until then I thought it was very simple. I was unattached, you acted like you were. We were in love – at least,Iwas – and I believed we had a future together. You said so yourself, many times.’ I bit my lip, as if to stem the flow of recriminations. ‘Now let go of me.’
‘By the way,’ he said, in a light, almost conversational tone, ‘thatwas a great performance back there in the panel discussion. You took me by surprise, I was expecting to wipe the floor with you.’ A low chuckle. ‘You’re blushing. I forgot, you never could cope with compliments. Remember what I said after our first night together?’
‘No.’
‘I said—’
‘I don’t want to hear it!’
‘Okay, so you don’t wanna hear it – but you can’t take away thememories.’ His thumbs shifted to either side of my mouth, mimicking their old tenderness. Once, this had been a cue to kiss. I swallowed – and immediately realised that his fingers would sense the movement of my throat; he wouldknowthat I remembered and, if I gave him the opportunity, he would use that knowledge …
I forced the coldness back into my voice. ‘I’m working on that, believeme.’
His thumbs began their barely perceptible stroking. ‘It might do you good to revisit them, one way or another.’
‘No thanks, I’ve moved on.’
He smiled thinly. ‘The big guy at the back of the room in the blue check shirt, right? I noticed how he couldn’t take his eyes off you – or me. Wonder if he guessed who I was.’
‘Why would he? You’re hardly our number one topicof conversation.’
