Page 21 of Somewhere Only We Know

‘No problem,’ said the woman. ‘I never unpack, so you can keep all the drawers.’

‘But why do we have to share?’ I said to the man. ‘Can you not put this lady, er …’

‘Tiff,’ she supplied.

‘Could Tiff not go in another room?’

‘This is impossible,’ explained the man. ‘Our hotel is full except for one spare bed in the men’s dormitory.’

‘Listen, it’s not ideal, but you won’t even know I’m here,’ said Tiff. ‘It’s one night and I’m leaving early in the morning.’

‘Thank you, mam,’ said the receptionist, bowing as if the matter was settled. ‘The management are very grateful.’

‘Hold on!’ I gripped the front of my pyjama shirt. ‘I specifically requested a private en suite room.’

‘I am very sorry, mam. We have only one private room. Somehow this lady booked it also.’

‘Look, I’m not crazy about it either,’ said Tiff, casually. ‘But I’m as entitled to this room as you, so why don’t we agree to get along?’

I let out a breath. ‘I’ve never shared a room with a stranger.’

‘Never?’ Tiff wrinkled her nose in disbelief. ‘Not a traveller, huh?’

‘Not since I was twenty-two.’

I had a sudden image of how Brontë would have dealt with this mix-up if she’d been here instead of me. She’d have opened the door wide and welcomed the other woman in. Maybe I was going to have to be more like Brontë on this trip. I was supposed to be letting her guide me, after all.

‘And actually, I had the time of my life on that trip, so I guess it’s about time I did it again. Pleased to meet you, Tiff, I’m Maggie. Come in.’

‘How early are you leaving tomorrow?’ I held out a bag of peanuts for Tiff to help herself.

‘Thanks.’ She took a handful. ‘Five a.m. maybe?’

I’d cleared my things off one of the beds for her, but she’d insisted that she didn’t need any other space. I’d left her to work on her laptop while I dried my hair and now we were both sitting on our beds, sharing my snacks and drinking bottles of the local beer Tiff had fetched from the hotel bar.

‘Right.’ My heart sank. I’d been looking forward to a slow start to the day. On the plus side, I’d have the bathroom to myself again. My stomach was protesting about all the lentils I’d eaten earlier.

‘I’m taking a flight tour around the Himalayas,’ Tiff told me. ‘It’s my second trip. It was so foggy the first time I couldn’t see a thing. This time I’m hoping I get some good pictures. But if I don’t,’ she shrugged, ‘well, I guess I’ll be back a third time.’

‘You love Nepal that much?’ I said with a hint of scepticism.

‘Absolutely I do,’ she confirmed. ‘But officially I’m here for work.’

‘So this is a business trip?’

‘Yep.’

She had a brand-new phone and an expensive-looking laptop and her rucksack looked very professional.

‘So why are you staying in such a cheap hotel?’

She grinned. ‘I was thinking the same about you in your silky PJs and your fancy suitcase.’

I smiled back. ‘Touché.’

‘You strike me as a woman who likes a hotel room with a safe and a proper coffee machine and nice toiletries.’ Tiff’s eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘Definitely not one where you end up sharing a tiny twin room with a beer-swilling American.’ As if to press home her point she belched softly. ‘Excuse me.’

I would have liked a safe; I’d been contemplating sleeping with my passport, credit cards and Brontë’s notebook under my pillow until Tiff turned up. ‘You’re not wrong. But I asked you first.’