Page 42 of The White Octopus Hotel
Mrs. Roth smiled slightly. “You don’t believe in such a thing?”
“Of course not.”
“I never found love like that myself,” Mrs. Roth replied. “But…well, have you ever witnessed a bond so strong that it creates ripples?”
“I’m not sure what that even means.”
“Perhaps ‘ripples’ isn’t the right word, but I don’t know what else to call them. Whatever they are, they don’t stay put as they should. They move, you see, up and down the years, as if time itself means nothing at all.” Mrs. Roth rubbed her eyes. “I’m feeling very tired. I’m always so tired, these days. It’s been a great pleasure to have tea with you, Eve. I have looked forward to it so much.” Her voice was tremoring again. She cleared her throat. “But all pleasures must come to an end.”
Eve rose to her feet to say goodbye, glad that the tea was finally over. The guests all around continued to talk and chatter. There was the chink of teacups being placed upon saucers and the scrape of forks scooping up final crumbs. Some of the guests were descending the stairs in their fur coats to head towards the sunbathing lawns and the lake. But as Eve watched Mrs. Roth hobble slowly across the veranda towards the hotel, she noticed that there were people inside too, stood motionlessly up against the windows.
Anna was there, and Harry. She spotted Alfie and Luca, and Liesl with her arms wrapped around Nan and the two other boys who must have been her brothers. They were all lined up at the dark windows, as if watching a show, and perhaps something of a tragicone at that, because the Roths all wore grave, sombre expressions. When they noticed Eve looking, they melted away from the glass, like ghosts, going back to whatever business normally kept them busy inside and leaving Eve with a tingling chill she was unable to shake off.
Chapter 26
When Eve returned to the lobby, she immediately saw her three-year-old self standing next to Jane by the reception desk. The place was quiet at this time of day, so Eve heard the child suddenly whimper, “Mama? Hug?”
“In a minute.”
She tugged at her mother’s hand. “Hug, please?”
Jane was trying to listen to something the receptionist was saying and shook her off. “For God’s sake, Eve, would you justwait?”
Across the room, adult Eve winced, expecting her younger self to start shouting and tantruming again, but instead the girl turned away and walked across the foyer, her blue buckled shoes scuffing and squeaking over the floor. When she got to the fountain, she tried to peer up into the lowest basin, but it was too tall even when she was on tiptoe. So she sat down on the floor beside it, instead, her legs sticking straight out in front of her. The girl looked small and sad, but Eve couldn’t find it in her to feel pity.
You’ll ruin it all…
There was the tread of feet as someone else entered the lobby and Eve saw it was Max. He looked as if he was heading straight to the piano but as he passed the child by the fountain he paused. ToEve’s disgust, the girl was still whimpering and snivelling, and she felt ashamed that he should see her like that, even if he didn’t realise who she was.
“Pardon me, miss,” Max said, looking down at her. “Have you seen a rabbit around here?”
Adult Eve felt that familiar recoil at the word “rabbit.” Was there to be no end to the wretched monsters? But small Eve just shook her head.
“Sometimes I find the rascal hiding in my hat.” Max swept off his fedora and reached inside. Small Eve watched with big eyes as he pulled out a handful of pennies, which he dropped in the girl’s lap with a sigh. “Leaving his pocket money lying about the place again. What a naughty rabbit.”
“Naughty rabbit!” small Eve exclaimed with a giggle.
Max knelt by her side, rummaged inside the fedora again, and this time brought out a small sugar octopus. “Now, how did this fellow get in there?” he demanded. “And what has he done with my rabbit?”
He offered the sugar octopus to the girl and adult Eve suddenly remembered the magic of this moment—of meeting a real magician by the fountain of this hotel and marvelling at the sparkle of white sugar tentacles. The little girl leaned closer to Max then, put her hand on his shoulder, and spoke in a whisper.
“Is itrealmagic?”
“Well,” Max whispered back. “That depends. There are many different types of magic.”
Jane walked over to join them. “What do you say, Eve?” she asked, nodding towards the sugar octopus. A small smile softened her mother’s face and Eve felt grateful to Max for that, at least.
“Thank you,” small Eve replied.
“Anytime.” Max stood up and put his hat on his head. “The pennies are good for wishes.” He nodded towards the fountain, then wandered over to the piano in the corner, sat down, and beganto play one of his own compositions—another piece that Eve knew well. It was, in fact, the first music of his that she’d ever heard after seeking him out at the end of that group therapy session so many years ago. She’d loved it then, as she did now, but had had no idea that she’d heard it once before, as a child. She wanted to leave but couldn’t tear herself away as Jane scooped Eve up and sat her on the edge of the fountain. She helped the little girl to toss the pennies into the water, one by one. They watched them sink to the bottom and when Eve tried to pass a penny over, Jane shook her head and gave it back.
“My wishes are all for you, my love.”
“This fountain isn’t for wishing.” Anna had entered the room and stopped beside them. She wore the same belted mint dress as earlier, and her glossy, dark hair was still tied up in a chignon bun, but something was off, something was different. Her eyes were red from crying. She was smiling at Jane, but it wasn’t a happy expression. It was heartbreak and it was loss.
“No?” Jane asked.
“No,” Anna said softly. “It’s a fountain for unwishing.”
