Page 22 of The White Octopus Hotel
“Sorry,” she said, breathless.
“Not at all.” The bellhop picked up the key for a second time and set it down upon the table. “You must be tired. You’ve come a long way, after all. Much further than most of our other guests.”
Eve looked at him quickly. She’d assumed that if she everdidmanage the seemingly impossible feat of travelling back in time to a hotel, then the other guests and staff would have no idea about where she had come from. Yet, here she was, sitting on the bed in clothes that would have looked quite startling to anyone from the 1930s. Women had barely worn trousers back then, let alone black jeans. She was still covered in dust and dirt—and octopus ink, although luckily that didn’t show up on the dark fabric. Besides which, she hadn’t rung for room service.
“Do you…know where I’m from?” she asked carefully.
There was a scuffling sound from the corridor again, like someone shuffling their feet, followed by a cough and ashhh!Eve’s head whipped around to the open doorway. There were people out there; she could sense them the same way that you could tell when you were being watched—that prickle on the back of the neck. And not just one, but several. How many of them were there? And what were they doing out in the corridor?
She was about to risk standing up and walking across the room to see for herself when Alfie said smoothly, “Not the exact location.” He reached out to sweep an imaginary speck of dust from the table. “But if you’re a guest of Room 27, then I know you must have come from the future.”
She was astonished that he could speak of such a thing so casually. “And that doesn’t amaze you?”
He lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. “Itisamazing, of course, but live with the extraordinary for long enough and it becomes simply…ordinary. You’re not the first time-travelling guest we’ve had the pleasure of looking after.”
“What year is it?” Eve asked—a question she’d never thought to utter.
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s 1935. Twenty-fourth November.”
This time there was a flash of movement from the doorway and Eve caught a glimpse of auburn curls and a child’s grin before the face abruptly disappeared.
“Pesky kids.” Alfie walked over to the door and said loudly, “I do apologise, Miss Shaw. Some guests allow their children to run about the place completely uncontrolled. If you ask me, they could all do with a good spanking.”
He closed the door, and when he turned back Eve expected him to ask what year she had come from, but he said nothing further.
“Aren’t you curious?” she prompted. “About where I’m from?”
“It’s not the role of a good employee to be curious about the guests,” the bellhop replied, looking faintly scandalised. “I promise you can expect the highest discretion from every member of staff here at the White Octopus.”
Eve shook her head. “But this is just…It’s unbelievable. You mean that you all know I come from another time and you just accept it? I’m not going to be swamped with questions?”
“That might be the case in other establishments, Miss Shaw, butthis is no ordinary hotel,” Alfie said with pride. “I can’t speak for the guests, though. I expect some of them might be a touch interested if you were to reveal that you’re from the future. If you’d like to, ah, blend in, then feel free to avail yourself of the clothes inside the wardrobe.” He nodded over to the one with the octopus handles that Eve had noticed earlier. “It has outfits for every occasion.”
“Were you expecting me then?” Eve asked, wondering how they could possibly have prepared for her visit so thoroughly.
Alfie shook his head. “Not us. The room. When the room knows a guest is coming it prepares itself. The wardrobe is an uncommon one too. It contains clothing to perfectly fit each guest. If you would like to explore the hotel and enjoy the facilities in your current…ensemble, then of course you are very welcome to do so. But should you wish to attract less attention, please do make use of the wardrobe. Your timing couldn’t have been better, by the way. You’ve arrived just in time for the party.”
“Party?”
“The celebrations for our fortieth birthday, which begin tonight and stretch over the next three days. Anna will assemble the guests at six o’clock in the Sunset Room to tell you all about it. It’s cold outside, so don’t forget your coat when you head out. We hope you will enjoy your stay with us, but when you wish to return to your own time you simply turn the key anticlockwise in the lock.” He nodded towards the door. “As soon as you cross the threshold, you will no longer be a guest. In addition—and this is something I must stress very carefully to you, Miss Shaw—upon checking out, all guests must return to the time they’re originally from. Should any guest attempt time travel without a key, the results would be…distressing.”
“All right. How long can I stay?”
“As long as you like,” he replied. “You are welcome here for as long as the hotel opens its doors.”
That, Eve suddenly realised, wouldn’t be for too much longer ifthis was the twenty-fourth of November. She knew from what she’d read online that the last party occurred on November twenty-seventh.
“Are you…likely to close any time soon?” she asked carefully.
He gave a laugh. “I hope not! There’s an old story that the White Octopus won’t close until the day snow falls from the ceiling and other lives are glimpsed within the mirrors. Which I think is another way of saying the hotel will go on forever. It’s been here for forty years anyway, so I’m certain it’ll continue for forty more.”
Not true, Eve thought.You’ll close for good in just three days.
Eve wondered whether she should tell Alfie. Or perhaps she should ask to speak to the manager of the hotel and tell them? Would her intervention change anything? Or had it all happened already? Her head began to throb again.
“That’s why my grandfather wanted the party in the first place,” Alfie went on.
“Your grandfather?” Eve repeated, struggling to keep up.
