‘A nap will suffice.’ Her words are clipped, as if she’s really hurting.
‘OK. Do you want to move to the sofa in the guest lounge? I can bring a rug and pillow or…?’ She shakes her head, so I survey the spacious room and what will be our raison d’être,the library. Right now, it’s soulless but soon it will be magnificent. I sigh. There’s so much to do but right now I need to make sure Manon is comfortable and not concussed.
Noah left the offending bookshelf standing in the middle of the room, but I don’t want to risk it falling over again. There’s no chance I can shift it since I couldn’t budge it before. ‘I need to move this out of the way. But how?’ I say, almost to myself.
‘Non!It’s fine there! Leave it!’
Hands on hips, I study my cousin. What’s with the sharp outburst? Is she worried it might topple over on her again? This must be some kind of trauma response!
I hurry to reassure her. ‘I’ll be careful. If I lift an edge, I can pop a rug under it and slide it across the parquetry.’
‘Now you mention it, I am rather woozy. Get meune demi bouteilleof Chablis, will you?’
‘What! No. You can’t drink alcohol with a concussion!’
There’s a shifty look in her eyes that takes but a mere moment to translate. To test my theory, I go to the bookshelf and push it. It moves easily as if it’s made of plywood, which upon further inspection, I suspect it is. No wonder Noah made those comments about me not being able to move the thing.
‘Manon! Were youholdingthe bookshelf so I couldn’t lift it off you?’
Her face dissolves into a grin. ‘Oui.’
‘To get out of working today or—’ I slap my forehead when I figure it out. ‘To get knight in shining armour Noah over here? How transparent! He would have known it was a farce as soon as he lifted the very light shelf off your poor, prone body!’ This is why she’s doesn’t have any external injuries; it was all a set up. ‘You planned this? Why?’
‘He came running just when you needed him, did he not?’
Her heart is in the right place but what Manon doesn’t seem to understand is that, when I say romance is dead, Ireallymean it. ‘One day, in the future, when my battered heart is healed over, I might consider dating again, but the nasty divorce proceedings where all our dirty laundry had been aired really did a number on me. And Noah, he’s a walking cliché and I happen to know a lot about men like that.’
‘How is Noah a walking cliché?’
‘Can’t you see it simply from the swagger? The literary nerd sartorial choices? The whole broody, robust, I’m a wild mountain man who can lift heavy things who marches home to the little lady and slugs back a glass of whisky, neatof course, and smokes an imported cigar, while analysing and dissectingnineteenth-century literature as if he knows what he’s talking about? I mean, it’sobvious, right?’
Manon gapes at me like I’ve got two heads. At least now I’m certain it’s not concussion causing that. ‘Lavache. Not thatyou’reinto stereotyping, Anais, you hypocrite!’
Am I wrong? Men like him are the love-and-leave-them type and I don’t care what anyone says, I know it to be true. It’s why these over-thirty and -forty macho men are still single. Because they’re not the commitment types. ‘I’m calling it like I see it, so can we agree our focus should be on the hotel, not on men? Especially not on men who live and work next door?’
‘I cannot.’
I let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Manon.I’ve got very little time to write a first draft, and to renovate and open a hotel. Adding a love interest into the mix is just asking for trouble. Been there, done that, got the writer’s block.’
‘I’m not going to join your pity party, if that’s what you’re hoping for, but let me say this: have you ever thought your writer’s block might be cured by a new love interest? It makes perfect sense.’
I can only shake my head. Manon and Margaret both think a man is the answer. How can they not see a man caused all these problems?! ‘Back to work.’
7
6 NOVEMBER
An almighty crash wakes me from a dead sleep. Did it come from upstairs? There’s no one staying on the third floor though. I sit up and strain to listen. Could someone have broken into the hotel? I fumble for my phone and swipe it to life to see it’s just gone three. I pull the covers back and contemplate investigating. What would I do if faced with an intruder?
Scanning the room, I can’t see one single thing I could use as a weapon to protect myself. What sort of hotelier am I? I jump out of my skin when my door creaks open and I let out a scream when a head appears.
‘Would you stop?’ Manon says, swiping at her sleepy eyes. ‘If there’s a criminal on the loose inside the hotel you’ve just alerted them to our whereabouts.’
‘So you heard it too?’
‘Oui,obviously. I’m not here to read you a bedtime story.’ She yawns as if not concerned at all there could be a villain roaming the hotel.
‘Should we check? What if there is someone out there?’ I ask, slightly panicked. ‘Then what?’
