The Burnout(95)

But at last I wrap myself in a towel and decide I’ll take a long, hot bath in my woodland-creature bathroom, which I have actually got quite fond of.

As I walk through the lobby, clutching my clothes, the phone on the desk starts ringing and I look around for someone to answer it. Cassidy is nowhere to be seen, nor are any of the other staff. So in the end, I dump my clothes on the reception desk and reach for the receiver myself.

“Hello, Rilston Hotel.” I find myself imitating Cassidy’s voice and give an inward giggle.

“Oh, hello!” A breathless female voice greets me. “I was hoping to speak to someone about sending something to a guest. Is there a Finn Birchall staying with you?”

“Yes, he’s a guest here,” I say, before wondering if I’m breaching the data-protection act. Oh well, too late. “Can I help?” I add.

“Well, I was really hoping to send him a gift basket,” says the woman. “I’m a colleague of his. Is there a hotel hamper or something I could order?”

I stare at the phone, agog. A colleague of Finn’s? Every one of my nerve endings has pinged onto high alert. Maybe I can find out something about him. Or even everything about him.

But will this colleague reveal any details about him to a member of the hotel staff? No, surely not. I need to correct that misunderstanding.

“Actually, I don’t work for the hotel, I’m a guest,” I clarify. “But I’ll talk to them, and I’m sure they can arrange something. Obviously, Finn’s been really stressed recently, so I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. I’m a friend of his,” I add casually. “We’ve become quite close. Confidants, in fact. So I know a lot of … what went on.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” she exclaims. “Well, I can ask you, then. Is he all right? Because we’ve been very worried.”

“He’s fine,” I say reassuringly. “He’s on the mend. As much as he can be, after … what happened.”

“I’m so glad,” says the woman. “We’re all so fond of Finn. We miss him!”

My mind is feverishly taking notes. They’re all so fond of Finn. And they miss him. Even though he slammed his coffee cup down, punched a vending machine, and threatened a ficus—despite all that, they miss him. So there’s more to the story. I knew it.

“Has he spoken about it much?” she continues sympathetically.

“Not really,” I say honestly.

“Well, why would he?” She sighs. “Heartbreak is always painful. And when it’s a glorious, perfect couple like Finn and Olivia … I’m not surprised he had a delayed reaction. We could all see he was under strain for weeks.”

Hmmmrgh?

My fingers have frozen around the phone. My vision has gone a bit blurry.

Finn and Olivia? Glorious, perfect couple?

Heartbreak?

I have to speak, I realize. Speak, Sasha. Speak, or this conversation is over and I’ll never know anything else.

“I know what you mean.” Somehow I’m forcing words out of my mouth. “These things just don’t seem real, do they?”

“Exactly!” the woman exclaims. “We all thought they’d get married! I mean, the chemistry between them—you could just feel it! I used to say to my husband—” The woman breaks off. “You haven’t met her, have you?”

“No,” I say, my voice light and lilting. “Remind me of her full name? I was trying to recall her surname.”

“Olivia Parham. She hasn’t been down, has she?”

“Not as far as I know,” I say, and the woman sighs again.

“Oh, that’s a shame. I was so hoping they would … you know. Patch it up. She’s so good for him, and he’s always been hopelessly in love with her. Well, I’m sure you know that, if you’re his confidante.”

“Absolutely.” There’s a weird rictus smile plastered on my face. “No secrets between us.”

“She brings out the best in Finn, you know?” says the woman, who is clearly wanting to chat. “She balances him out somehow. I mean, she can be quite direct, but he needs someone robust. The number of times I’ve heard her call him a workaholic. And he needed to hear it, believe me!” She breaks into laughter and I seize up still further.

Workaholic. Self-centered. Nightmare.

It all falls into place.

“Sometimes people just don’t belong together,” I say, trying desperately to get some control of this conversation.

“Oh, I know that,” says the woman wistfully. “But not Finn and Olivia. I don’t know what went wrong, after ten years together.”

“Ten years!” Just for a moment, my composure slips. “Ten years,” I repeat, my throat clenching up. “Absolutely. It’s baffling how a … a successful relationship like that could go wrong.”

“Well, as I say, I’m sure it’s just a temporary little blip,” says the woman. “We’re all still expecting invites to the wedding! His assistant, Mary, has already bought her hat! Will I see you there too?” She laughs, a warm friendly laugh, and I know I should join in, but I can’t, I just can’t.

“Who knows?” I say shrilly. “Should be fun, anyway. Anyway, I must go, I’m afraid, but if you give me your name, I’ll get the hotel staff to call you about a hamper.”