Page 13 of The White Octopus Hotel
But she’d never quite been able to summon the courage—perhaps because she already knew what her mum’s response wouldbe.
It wasn’t your fault.
But.
But.
But.
I wish you had listened.
Just that once.
“Is this the only photo you took of the hotel?” Eve asked. The photos on the opposite page were of somewhere else—an abandoned amusement arcade, from the looks of it.
“Yes.”
“Why were we even there? Dad said we stayed in a B&B.”
“We did. The White Octopus was on the other side of the lake. I thought it would be interesting to see, so I took a boat across to explore. I thought you might like it too, so I took you with me the next day.”
Eve’s fingers itched for a cigarette, but she knew her mum wouldn’t like it if she smoked in the house. “Did Dad come?”
“No, it was just you and me. We didn’t stay long. Just explored the lobby.”
“Did you explore further on your own the day before?”
“I did. There was a key….”
She trailed off, frowning slightly, as if she’d forgotten what she was going to say halfway through.
“A key?” Eve prompted. “You mean a room key?”
Her mother nodded. “It was just lying there on the reception desk. Like it was waiting for me. The key to Room Seventeen. I went through all the floors, but no such room existed.”
Just like the key to Room 27.
“What happened to the key?” Eve asked. “Do you still have it?”
To her disappointment, her mum shook her head. “I lost it somehow. I didn’t notice at the time. Too busy taking photos. The hotel was…” She trailed off. “I’m not sure how to describe it. There was this atmosphere there. Echoes of the past. A lot of the original fittings and some of the furniture was still in place. There’s something melancholy and fascinating about an abandoned hotel.” She gazed out the window, towards the road that Eve wished she never had to see again. “They remind me of sunken ships.”
She wanted to ask more questions about the hotel, but then hermum spoke abruptly. “Listen, I don’t want to hurry you, but I have a flight to get ready for.”
Eve stood up, the chair legs scraping harshly across the floor. “Of course.”
“Why did you want to know about the White Octopus anyway?” her mum asked.
“It doesn’t matter. I just suddenly remembered it.”
Her mum paused, then said, “Is everything all right?”
Eve knew she’d never quite be free of this question. Not after what had happened at university.
“Everything’s fine.”
It wasn’t true, of course. Not anymore. As Eve let herself out of the house and fished a cigarette from her pocket, she supposed that most people had some kind of “before” and “after” in their lives. A defining moment, a point at which everything changed. There had been periods, here and there, where Eve had felt a muted sort of contentment in the years after her fourth birthday. But happiness—the real, bright, shining kind—was something she’d only ever known in that brief “before.”
Chapter 8
