‘Oh yeah.’ I looked closer. ‘That’s quite pretty.’
‘They’re specially made for the hotel,’ she told me proudly. ‘You can’t buy these sheets. This one is the bottom one.’ She threw a sheet at me. ‘Shake it out and then lift it across the bed and grab the corners. I’ll help with the other side.’
Doing what I was told, I shook the folded sheet and then, taking two corners, I waved it up above my head so it would open up and spread out across the bed, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. As I threw it up in the air, I accidentally let go of the corners I was holding, and it floated down over my head. It was so big that I tried to find my way out, but somehow managed to tread on it and get stuck.
‘Are you pretending to be a ghost?’ I heard Cal ask, as I started pulling it forwards over my head and face to see if that would work.
‘No,’ I replied, breathing in a mouthful of the sheet.
‘Have you never made a bed before? Seriously, what are you doing?’
‘What is wrong with this thing?’ I said, thrashing my arms about and ignoring Amy’s giggles. ‘Why doesn’t it have an end to it?’
‘You’re standing on it, you numpty.’ Cal laughed. ‘Get off it and then just pull it over your head.’
‘Who uses the word “numpty”?’ I retorted. ‘You are such a –’
Unfortunately, I didn’t get to finish the end of my sentence because, in trying to get the sheet out from under my feet, my socks slipped as I pulled it forwards and I completely lost my balance, stumbling backwards and falling flat across the bed, wrapped up in the sheet like an Egyptian mummy.
Cal was never going to let me live this one down.
They both burst into hysterical laughter and when Amy came to my aid, pulling the sheet off me, I saw that Cal was bent over double, clutching his stomach.
‘I’m sorry,’ he wheezed, as I threw him a dirty look. ‘But you should have seen yourself scrabbling about under there!’
‘I’m sure it was hilarious,’ I huffed, going into the bathroom to sort out my hair.
When I came back through, Amy fanned the sheet perfectly over the bed with barely a flick of her wrists and pulled the corners under the mattress in less than a minute.
‘How did you do that?’ I asked her, putting my hands on my hips. ‘There must be a trick to it, which you’re not telling me.’
‘Practice,’ she answered simply, fiddling with yet more sheets for the top layers.
‘How did you get it so smooth?’ I said, running my hand across the mattress.
‘We iron them.’
My mouth fell open. ‘You iron the bed sheets?’
‘Of course.’
‘All of them?’
‘Yes.’
I stared at her and Cal came to stand next to me as Amy got the gold patterned bedspread ready to lay out for the finishing touch.
‘Amazing, isn’t it?’ he said, helping her by stretching out the corner of the bedspread on our side. ‘Amy makes it look easy.’ She smiled at him gratefully.
I hated to agree with Cal Weston but I had to nod. There are hundreds of rooms in the hotel, including twin and family rooms and if each bed had this many sheets on it . . . well, that is more ironing than I could imagine. I watched as Amy swiftly arranged the pillows and gold cushions into a perfect arc across the bed.
I never thought I’d be so impressed by someone just making a bed. Hanging out with Cal was clearly turning me into a loser.
‘Time to clean the bathroom,’ Amy said, grabbing the bucket of cleaning products from the bottom of the trolley and opening the door to the en suite.
‘No way,’ I said, shaking my head as Cal gave me a knowing look. ‘No chance.’
‘How do you think they look so squeaky clean the whole time?’ he said, pushing me towards it. ‘Someone has to do it.’
