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She frowns, lifting her glasses and appraising Cole. ‘The door was open. If you’re not open, then why let people just walk in? It’s confusing.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I chime in. ‘That was my fault. I forgot to lock it. But it’s fine – you’re welcome to browse, but we can’t run anything through the till until nine.’
She rolls her eyes and shuffles forward. ‘I don’t need any help,’ she repeats. ‘Just browsing.’
‘Be sure to let us know if you’d like tea or coffee.’ Cole plasters a smile onto his face and turns away from her. Thankfully, she doesn’t see him scowling.
‘Can you keep an eye on things for a sec while I pop upstairs? I need to put my stuff in my locker.’ I pick up my bag.
‘Take your time,’ Cole says, his eyes narrowing.
As I head to the stairs, I feel him watching me. I always keep my bag in the office downstairs, stuffed in the drawer of my desk – only on rare occasions have I ever used my locker. And nothing escapes Cole’s notice.
Upstairs in the staffroom, I close the door and head to the lockers along the back wall. There are only four – we’ve never needed more than three staff at any one time.
I press the code into my locker and open it, staring into the empty space. I pull the key card from my pocket and study it again, as if it will provide me with answers. I want to scream.Why do you have this card? If you’ve never set foot in that hotel, then why is there a room key in your pocket?It occurs to me that Max might look for the key card. And what will he do when he finds it missing?
Slamming the locker door shut, I lean against it and try to slow my breathing. Deep breath in, deep breath out. I can’t letCole see that something is wrong – he’s like a bloodhound and won’t stop until he’s found answers.
As if I’ve summoned him by thinking about him, the door opens and Cole peers in. ‘Everything okay?’ he asks, hovering by the door.
‘Yep. Fine. Is that customer downstairs alone?’
‘No. She left, so I locked up.’
I glance at my phone. ‘Okay. Well, we’ve got a few minutes.’
‘Coffee?’ he asks. ‘Normally it’s the first thing you do. Is everything okay, Hannah?’
‘I’m just a bit…This morning was hectic trying to get Poppy ready for school. It’s been a bit full on. I’ll have one now.’
He watches me closely. ‘Is this about the woman in the hotel? It’s getting to you, isn’t it?’
I look away from him and root through my bag. ‘No. Well, of course it’s terrible. I just feel sad for her family.’ I pull out lip balm and begin applying it, just so I don’t have to look at Cole scrutinising me. My whole face feels too warm.
‘If she had any. Some people don’t have family, Hannah. Or family they can count on at least. Some of us aren’t that lucky.’
‘I know. You’re right. I shouldn’t make assumptions.’ Cole’s parents both died when he was in his twenties, and he’s an only child. He never talks about it, but I know from my mum that he was married a long time ago, but is now divorced. They didn’t have any children. He’s only forty, though, so there’s every chance he could be in a relationship, even if he makes no mention of it.
Cole nods, but stays by the door.
‘Shall we go down, then?’ I suggest, striding towards him.
He stares at me for a moment, not seeming to register that I’ve spoken.
‘Oh, yeah.’ He steps aside. ‘I thought you were leaving that in your locker,’ he says, pointing to my bag.
‘Changed my mind,’ I say. ‘Come on, I need a caffeine fix.’
It’s mid-morning before I have a chance to escape to my office. Katy hasn’t turned up again, and neither Cole nor I can get hold of her, so I’ve been on the shop floor since we opened, while Cole takes care of the coffee bar. One thing I hadn’t counted on was that some people would come in only for coffee, paying no attention to the books they’re surrounded by, no matter how enticing I try to make the displays. ‘You’re either a book person or you’re not,’ Max always says.
Still, I’m grateful for any customers, whatever their reason for stepping inside.
While Cole assumes I’m doing a stock order and takes over at the till, I search the internet for everything I can find on Alice Hughes. She has a presence on social media, and the same photo that’s been sprawled all over the local news stares at me.
From Instagram I learn that she was a personal trainer, offering private sessions at her home in Roehampton. I study the picture of her small purpose-built garden gym, and I wonder if somehow Max was having training sessions. But he would have told me. And he’s never shown any interest in the gym. He runs occasionally, but mostly he’s too busy to commit to any regular fitness routine.
I continue scrolling, soaking up information about Alice as if I’m her stalker. Is that what I’ve become? Obsessed with a woman who’s no longer here. Is this what finding that hotel key in Max’s pocket has so quickly turned me into?
