Page 99 of My Kind of Happy

Oh good; I’d found him.

I moved to the end of the reception desk and waved a hand discreetly, communicating by a series of gestures that I was the florist. Tim shot me a look of recognition, followed by a look which said help me, please. Unfortunately, I needed as much help as the others did and I urgently needed answers.

‘A proper manager,’ said the woman, ‘who’ll sort this mess out.’

‘Fair enough,’ Tim replied with a shrug. ‘If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll let him know.’

‘I shall be leaving my review on TripAdvisor,’ she said, snatching up her bag and flinging it over her shoulder. ‘And it won’t make for comfortable reading.’

‘Tim,’ I said quietly. ‘Is there somewhere we can talk? I need to know what’s going on.’

‘As if I know,’ he muttered gloomily. ‘Yeah, give us a minute.’

Just then a minibus pulled up at the front of the hotel and another twenty or so ladies alighted.

Despite the hour, they were very loud and exuberant, and one of them had a clipboard; Tim’s shoulders slumped another couple of inches.

‘Which way to the Edelweiss pre-conference breakfast?’ demanded the one with the clipboard.

‘Excuse me!’ A blonde-haired woman leaning against the reception desk looked up from her phone and glared at the new arrivals. ‘There is a queue, you know.’

I froze, my heart nearly exploding with shock. I’d recognise that cutting voice anywhere: Pandora. What was she doing here?

I took a step backwards out of her eyeline; I had enough to cope with without hearing another tirade from her. Tim turned away from the desk and swore just as a door behind us both opened and a man appeared.

He pointed at Tim. ‘Did I just hear you swear?’

The blood drained from Tim’s face.

‘He was giving me directions,’ I said jumping in front of Tim and bending to pick up one of my boxes. ‘Flowers off that way. I’m the florist.’

Tim looked pathetically grateful. ‘That’s right.’

The man scowled at all the boxes. ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Joe Blake, hotel manager. Get this lot moved please, they’re a fire hazard.’

‘I will,’ I said crossly, ‘but first I need to know what’s happening.’

‘Don’t we all,’ said Joe. He barked at Tim. ‘Where the bloody hell is Marcia?’

Tim shrugged. ‘How do I fff … flippin’ know?’

Joe gritted his teeth. ‘She’s supposed to be managing this event.’

Someone started pressing the bell on the reception desk repeatedly. ‘Hello! Any chance of being served?’

‘Are you the manager?’ The woman with the plaits was back. ‘I demand some answers.’

Behind her stood a woman in her dressing gown shouting that she’d ordered room service half an hour ago and it still hadn’t arrived.

‘One second, ladies.’ He smiled politely at them, then hissed at Tim. ‘Get Marcia on the phone. Now.’

‘Marcia was still here when I left late last night,’ I pointed out, ‘surely she’s unlikely to be due in at this hour.’

The hotel manager grunted. ‘Her shift starts and ends when the event starts and ends.’

I let out a breath of relief. ‘Oh! So it is still on then? Because I need to know whether to finish these flower displays or not.’

Joe jerked his head in the drection of his office and we stepped towards it out of earshot of the guests.