Page 55 of London, Can You Wait?

Alex groaned. “I’ve been better. Sorry about last night, I was out of control…”

“Nah.” Fallon shrugged, and her scarf swallowed up her chin. “What’s New Year’s Eve without a laugh, lots of booze…”

“Too right.” Alex rolled her eyes.

Fallon smiled. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Nope. Dublin’s stuck with me for a few days. It’s Mark’s birthday next week and I got him something special, had it sent over yesterday. I’m picking it up…” She turned back to the empty front desk. “…if the staff ever return.”

“Did Mark… How is he?”

“He’s a bit rough around the edges, but he’ll survive. Did you guys stay late, too?”

“The pub did a lock-in. Wink kept getting drinks in. There are going to be some casualties this morning. I’m surprised you’re not having a lie-in…”

“It’s our anniversary.”

“Oh, right. Got plans?”

“Dinner, maybe, if Mark’s up to it, or maybe we’ll chill, watch a movie or something. His mum wants to see us next weekend when she’s back from Europe. We’ll celebrate our anniversary and his birthday at the same time.”

Fallon’s face lit up. “Aw, isn’t she lovely? I adore her.”

“His mum?” Alex nodded. “Oh, she visited the set?”

“Oh, no. She’d never impose.”

Alex squinted, her brain…so foggy. Damn hangover. “Sorry?”

“Oh…I thought Mark would’ve told you…” Fallon’s eyes strayed to the hotel’s sliding doors. “I’ve known Niamh since I was a kid. She was Mum’s best friend.” Her glance returned with a smile. “They worked together.”

“Really?” Alex’s voice rose slightly. “I had no clue…”

“Typical Mark, so forgetful.” Fallon chuckled. “I met him at Mum’s work, and then again at a family picnic, freezing by the seaside. We were twelve, I think. I bet Niamh still has the photos up on her wall?”

Alex vaguely remembered some beach photos. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Our families used to hang out a lot, and Mark ended up in my theatre class—”

“Miss Sinclair?”

Alex pulled her eyes away from Fallon. The breathless concierge darted behind the counter, a parcel in his grip. “Our apologies for this morning’s wait.”

Alex’s stomach rolled again, reminding her of the night’s excess. “It’s okay. Thanks.” She hugged the box covered with stamps and a customs declaration.

“And there’s another parcel addressed to Mr. Keegan.”

“Okay. I’ll take it, too.”

The concierge handed over a rectangular courier box. Alex put her own parcel on top and turned to Fallon. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Fallon looked at the glass doors again, clearing her throat. “Look, I feel bad, Alex. Mark really should have said something. I was his first snog, first girlfriend, first…” She bit her lip.

Alex shook her head. Her new friend was delusional. “No, I don’t think so. Sinéad was Mark’s first girlfriend. He told me. They went out for three months.”

“Three months?” Fallon’s eyebrows peaked. “Alex, this is awkward. I thought you knew…I’m Sinéad. Fallon’s my middle name. I use it professionally.”

“You’re…Sinéad?” Alex choked on Fallon’s words. “Oh…”