‘I was going to cook for you, but it’ll take too long. We’re both hungry. Come on, let’s eat.’ And when they entered the crowded restaurant, a group of friends who lived in the same apartment building beckoned them over to share their table.
It was like being a double agent, pretending to be one half of an idyllically happy couple whilst knowing what was going to happen the moment the two of them were alone together behind closed doors. Being polite to Aaron’s neighbours, Didi felt like the ultimate fraud; it might not be the done thing to break off an engagement by text, but was anything more agonising than this?
The cancer wasn’t going anywhere, obviously, but at least the chest infection had cleared. The antibiotics had worked their magic, thank God, and tomorrow Red was being discharged from hospital.
Having both spent the evening with him on the ward, Shay dropped Rosa off at Frog Cottage and drove back to the hotel. He hadn’t seen Didi all week, but now he wanted to share the good news. When there was no sign of her either in the restaurant or outside on the crowded terrace, he stopped Sylvia on her way across reception and asked where she was.
‘Oh, Didi’s not here, she’s gone to London to see Aaron.’ Sylvia, who was one of Aaron’s biggest fans, made a swoony face. ‘To make up for missing him last weekend.’ She gave Shay a playful nudge. ‘I’m sure you know what I mean.’
Shay knew what she meant; he just wished he didn’t have to hear about it. With a nod and a brief smile, he prepared to head upstairs, but Sylvia put out a hand to stop him, her expression avid. ‘Ooh, have you heard who’s staying here?’
Shay already knew that the hotel was full. ‘Quite a few people?’
‘It was booked last week under a pseudonym, so we didn’t have any idea. A proper celebrity. I mean, I wouldn’t tell you, but she’s right opposite you in the Midsummer Suite, so it’s best you know, just in case you spot anyone sneaking up the stairs to try and get a look at her.’
‘Who is it?’
‘Caz Holloway.’ Sylvia’s eyebrows did a little dance of excitement. ‘The actress and singer? You must know who she is,’ she chided. ‘She starred in Call Me, Darling. And the next year she nearly married her co-star, the one with the moustache who played Terry in Our Favourite House. Oh, you know who I mean. She’s always in the papers!’
He and Sylvia probably read different sections of the newspaper. Shay said, ‘The name rings a bell,’ mainly to be polite, but she had pulled out her phone, and was evidently determined to educate him.
‘Here she is. Now you recognise her. This was taken when she was starring in the West End as Eponine in Les Mis. I saw her in that! What a voice. She’s a character all right. Oh, let me show you something else. What do you think of this?’
Instead of Caz Holloway, the phone screen now showed an emerald-green velvet hat with a swooping brim and an explosion of ribbons and feathers on one side. Sylvia waited expectantly for his reaction.
‘It’s . . . very dramatic,’ said Shay.
‘I know!’
‘Is this . . . for you?’
‘Of course!’
‘For a special occasion?’
‘No, I thought I’d wear it while I’m scrubbing the kitchen floor.’ Her eyes danced. ‘Yes it’s for a special occasion. Didi and Aaron’s wedding! Don’t you think it’s the most gorgeous hat you ever saw in your life?’
It was like a jab in the ribs, well meant but painful. Didi was marrying Aaron and he couldn’t be allowed to forget it. Preparing to make his escape, Shay nodded. ‘It’s perfect.’
Sylvia gazed lovingly at the hat. ‘Sometimes you clap eyes on something for the first time, don’t you, and you just know you have to have it.’
Since taking up residence, he’d grown accustomed to the creaking oak floorboards on the curved staircase leading up to the top floor of the ancient hotel. After a while, you barely noticed them. But as he made his way along the carpeted landing, it became apparent that the new guest had heard his arrival. The door to the Midsummer Suite opened a couple of inches and a female voice said, ‘Are you room service?’
‘I’m not,’ said Shay. ‘Sorry.’
He heard a sigh. Half a face appeared in the slender gap and one heavily made-up eye stared at him. ‘For crying out loud, where are they? I ordered a bottle of wine ages ago.’
‘They’re pretty busy downstairs.’
‘And I’m pretty thirsty upstairs.’ Having checked him out, Caz Holloway opened the door wide. ‘Hello. Are you sure you aren’t room service?’
‘I’m sure.’ He pointed to his own door, across the landing. ‘That’s me, there. But if you want, I can go downstairs and get your wine for you.’
She hesitated, tightening the belt around her white towelling robe, then shook her head. ‘Thanks, but it’s OK. If I say yes, you’ll tell everyone I’m a right diva.’
She shouldn’t be having to wait, though. Shay said, ‘How long ago did you order the wine?’
‘Three minutes.’
He nodded gravely. ‘Right.’
‘I know, I know, but I don’t like having to wait.’ She broke into a grin. ‘See what I mean? Diva.’
He held up his key. ‘If it helps, I’ve got some wine in my fridge. Would that keep you going?’
‘You,’ Caz waggled a finger at him, ‘are a lifesaver.’
‘Wait there.’
When he returned with the half-full bottle of Picpoul de Pinet, she took it from him. ‘Is there anyone else in your room?’
‘Not that I’m aware of. Unless they’re hiding under the bed.’
‘Do you have a wife?’
‘No.’
‘Girlfriend?’
‘No.’
‘Boyfriend?’
‘Not even one of those.’
‘And are you off out anywhere this evening?’
‘No.’
Caz tilted her head. ‘So if you wanted to come over to my room for a quick drink, you’d be welcome. D’you think you might fancy that?’
Shay hesitated. He might not be familiar with her shows, but he recognised her now, had seen her photo online and had watched her being interviewed on TV. She was a character who wore her heart on her sleeve and was prone to speaking her mind when maybe it would be more sensible not to. Her romantic trials and tribulations endeared her to her adoring public, who treated her as a kind of impulsive, wayward surrogate sister or daughter.
Basically, Caz Holloway was a bit of a handful.
Which he really didn’t need right now.
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘That’s really kind of you. But it’s been a long day. I’m pretty shattered.’
She looked stunned. ‘You’re turning me down?’
‘Not turning you down. Just saying no thanks, not this evening.’
‘Well I’m crushed,’ said Caz. Her smile regretful, she turned to head back into her room. ‘But thanks for the wine. Night.’
Minutes later, Shay heard the familiar creak of floorboards as Caz’s room service request was delivered to the Midsummer Suite.
He took a shower, then put on clean jeans and began flipping through the TV channels. Mental images of Didi kept jumping into his head. Where was she now? What was she doing? Were she and Aaron out somewhere glamorous, meeting up with friends, maybe dancing and socialising at a party? Or were they back at his place enjoying the first night of a romantic weekend together, doing the kinds of things he definitely didn’t want to imagine them doing?