Page 73 of The White Octopus Hotel
He held out his hand and Eve passed it to him, suddenly embarrassed. What use was a scrawled picture on a piece of paper? It couldn’t make up for what she planned to do. Or, more important,notdo. Max stared down at the drawing for what felt like a long time before he finally looked back at her.
“This is . . ,” he said, a slight catch in his voice. “Thank you. I will treasure it always. Listen, I’m glad to find you here. I was hoping to have the chance to say goodbye properly. And I wanted to thank you. For…for all that you’ve done for me. You’ve been…a tremendous friend.”
I have not,Eve thought.I am the very worst type of friend there is. The worst type of person.
“I owe you a debt,” Max went on. “Such a large debt, and I suppose I shall never manage to repay it.”
“You owe me nothing,” Eve said quietly.
Perhaps I won’t win,she thought again with a fierce flare of hope.Perhaps I won’t win the hunt, will never find those last clocks or octopus.Yet, she couldn’t shake the conviction that, one way or another, shewouldwin. Because Eve was the type of person who achieved the thing she set her mind on, no matter how difficult or impossible it might seem. And, besides, she would lose Max either way. When she checked out, even her memories of him would vanish. The good times don’t last. And some friendships can’t be forever.
Very carefully, Max folded the drawing and put it in his pocket. “Well,” he said. “We should go in to dinner.”
“We should,” Eve replied.
But they didn’t move. And they didn’t move. The air between them became charged with something tingling and electric. The frigidarium was warm compared to the hotel and she was starting to sweat beneath her uniform. Max must have been roasting in his and she found herself staring at the buttons of his jacket. They’d been tarnished at some point by exposure to poisonous gas and she wished she could reach out and undo them, one by one, that she could run her fingers along the bare skin of his chest.
“Max,” she began, then broke off because she was sure he must hear the longing in her voice.
Don’t go.
Stay here.
With me.
The words rang so loudly inside her head that perhaps he heard them too. Eve wasn’t sure who stepped forwards first. All she knew was that Max’s arms were around her, his hands pressing against the small of her back, her fingers clutching his collar, and then his lips were on hers and there was the kiss, at last. And for once, there were no apples, or balloons, or rabbits. There was just Max Everly, setting her on fire.
They staggered to the tepidarium like drunks and locked the door of the chamber behind them, sweat running down them asthey undressed. Eve didn’t have any birth control and she knew she was taking a risk—one she’d vowed she would never, ever take. But she couldn’t bring herself to make them stop, not when this was their one and only chance. There were no parts of her body she wanted to cover—not even the octopus. And the warmth of Max’s hands on her skin was the single most blissful feeling she’d ever experienced. Here, at last, was where she was supposed to be, with the person she was supposed to love.
Afterwards, as they lay together on one of the benches, Max’s fingers gently squeezed hers. “I love you,” he said.
And I’m supposed to love you back,Eve thought.But I can’t.
Something soft brushed against her ankle and she knew, even before she looked, that it would be a rabbit. She jerked away from Max, scrambling off the bench. There it was—a sleek, white rabbit hopping innocently about at the end of the bench, its little nose twitching, and Eve couldn’t prevent a groan. No matter how far she went, she would never be free of Bella and what she had done.
“Eve?” Max scrambled to his feet too, wrapping a towel around his waist. “What’s wrong?”
She took the towel he passed her, and beyond him she could see paint peeling from the walls, and the tiles crumbling, and the furniture decaying. She heard theclip-clopof hooves and thought it might be the horse, but then the wind rattled through the broken windows and peering in through the jagged shards were the calm, wise eyes of the ibex. An old, old man was standing there too, leaning on a walking stick and holding out a white octopus.
Come back to the hotel….
“Come back to the hotel.”
Eve jumped. Someone was knocking on the door. The tepidarium had returned to its old splendour and Max was twenty years old again, but they were no longer alone. When she unlocked the door, Eve found a girl on the other side—somewhere between a child and a woman, perhaps sixteen, much younger than when Evehad last seen her in 1935, but she still recognised Anna Roth at once. Her black hair was tied back in two plaits, and she wore a winter coat with sturdy boots. The look in her eyes as she gazed at them was hard to place. Was it hostility? Curiosity? Shock?
She hates me,Eve thought bleakly. I will never be free of her.
“Come back to the hotel,” Anna said again, speaking quietly but firmly, looking straight at Eve. “My father wants to see you.”
Eve took a deep breath. “All right. I just need to get dressed.”
Max hesitated a moment, then said, “I’ll see you in the Gatsby Room.” He picked up his clothes and went out the door in the direction of the men’s changing rooms. The rabbit had gone, as though it had never been there at all.
“I’ll wait for you in the frigidarium,” Anna said, turning on her heel.
Eve gathered up her clothes, her skin still tingling. When she’d showered and dressed, she joined Anna in the Wellness Area.
“Why does Nikolas Roth want to see me?” she asked.
