‘I’ve barely left Birmingham.’
‘You don’t live in Edinburgh?’
‘I wish!’ he says, and Daisy explains that she’s living in Edinburgh where she works as an interior designer, and that Joe had been up for a visit before joining the train.
‘So how do you know each other?’ I ask, intrigued by their friendship – Daisy clearly the one who wears the trousers.
‘I was visiting the Library of Birmingham, which is totally my jam, by the way – did you know it’s the biggest public library in Europe? Anyway, Joe gave me a guided tour and we’ve been best buds ever since.’
‘You still work there?’ I ask Joe.
‘Guilty,’ he sighs.
‘You don’t sound very enthused.’
‘Don’t get me wrong, it’s great,’ he shrugs. ‘It’s just getting a bit old. I fancy a change of scenery, time to get Joe out of Birmingham, that’s all.’
I want to ask him more about where he’d like to be, but we’re interrupted by Flynn, chinking a spoon against his glass.
‘Good evening,’ he says when the babble of chatter has died away, tugging the cuffs of his crisp white shirt. ‘I hope you’ve all had a chance to settle into your rooms. Dinner this evening can be taken at any time in the hotel restaurant, followed by a chance to explore the neighbourhood. If you’d like to join the literary walking tour, please meet at eight p.m. outside the main entrance, where you will be met by a local guide. But for now, continue to enjoy the company of your fellow travellers, the refreshments, and this beautiful library.’
His announcement is followed by a smatter of applause and a slow crescendo of conversation.
‘God, he’s hot,’ says Daisy, watching Flynn put the microphone stand aside. ‘Not many guys could turn me, but . . .’
‘You think?’ I ask, watching him mingle on the other side of the room.
Joe nods his approval.
‘You don’t?’ asks Daisy incredulously.
I remember our first encounter in the shop – casual and tussled – that there was something intriguing about him, but somehow I can’t quite marry those attributes with this version of Flynn, so starched and detached.
‘May I join you?’ asks Marleen, interrupting my contemplation of Flynn, both Daisy and Joe making a beeline for him.
‘Of course,’ I reply, gesturing for her to take a seat.
‘Elsa was just telling me you’re considering new opportunities,’ she begins. ‘Having seen how youmanaged the situation on the train today, I wondered if you might be interested in working for me, as my assistant.’
‘Gosh, thank you,’ I say, slightly bamboozled by her offer, so out of the blue. I think immediately of Jude and how, if she were here, she’d be nudging me into grabbing the opportunity. ‘Where are you based?’
‘Here, in Bloomsbury,’ she says. ‘Australia is home, but I’ve been here for many decades.’
An image of living and working in London, as Mum did for a few years and her mother before her, flits in front of my eyes.
‘What would the role entail?’ I ask, thinking if Mum and Grandma managed it, I surely could too, that it might turn out to be just the adventure I need.
Marleen tells me that she’s been considering hiring someone for a few years, since her last assistant retired. Someone who can not only help her professionally – replying to emails, updating social media, chasing royalties – but also domestically, too. ‘A sort of Girl Friday, if you will.’
‘I’m really flattered that you should ask,’ I say, not quite able to find the courage to accept the offer straight off the bat, knowing full well that if the same job had come up at home, it would be a no-brainer.
‘Take your time, consider it over the next few days. See what you think at the end of the trip.’
Marleen is pulled away by a reader and I am left wishing that Mum or Elsa might find me so I can bounce the idea off them. But Mum is hosting the three Americans, and Elsa is deep in conversation with Frank,so I sit, watching the room, the huddles of travellers, the rotating waiters, and Flynn, professionally working the room while discreetly keeping an eye on his phone. Across the floor, Daisy catches my attention and makes ‘go on’ eyes at him. I laugh and roll my eyes, amused by her persistence.
‘Bonsoir, mademoiselle.’
‘How are you?’ I ask as Nicolas kisses me on both cheeks.
