Chapter 9
It was the last week of March and spring had arrived in the Cotswolds. Winter was behind them; the final puddles of snow had melted from the hilltops, and signs of new life were bursting out all over. Daffodils and crocuses lit up the gardens in Starbourne like clusters of golden stars, the trees were a haze of buds and tiny green leaves, and all around the village nature was taking its course; the first lambs were already gambolling in the fields, birds were busy gathering twigs and moss to build their nests, and at night you could hear the distant unearthly screams of foxes making the most of mating season.
Nick, however, was discovering the foxes of Starbourne had nothing on his next-door neighbour. It was one of those awkward situations that inevitably arose when people lived in close proximity with each other. But it was far worse when it was someone you also worked with, particularly when it was someone like Lucy. As a concierge, she couldn’t be faulted; she was hard-working, efficient, somewhat humourless but always reliable. Outside working hours she kept herself to herself, didn’t socialise and apparently spent most of her time chopping salads and cooking healthy meals from scratch in her beloved air fryer. She didn’t play loud music, nor did she sing or clatter around the cottage; for the last two and a half months he’d barely heard her at all.
Until ten days ago, anyway, when spring had evidently worked its magic on Lucy’s hormones, sparking them back to life.
She’d got herself a boyfriend from somewhere – an online dating app, Nick assumed – and was having the best time with him. In fact, the very best time. It was just a shame the very best times had to happen so early in the morning. Also a shame that his bedroom shared a wall with hers.
Bang bang BANG went the headboard in Lucy’s room, waking him for the seventh morning in a row at . . . yes, six fifteen. Nick exhaled and gazed up at the ceiling. Yet again he was being denied a lie-in. His own headboard might be silent but it was reverberating against the wall, and now the yelps and shouts were getting started . . .
‘Yes, yes!’
Bang, bang, BANG.
‘Yes, yes, yes!’
‘No, no, no,’ Nick murmured, willing them to hurry up and get it over with but aware from past experience that this was just the start. Was the man a shift worker, heading home after this for a good night’s sleep? Mildly curious though he was, he hadn’t resorted to hanging out of his bedroom window in an attempt to catch sight of Lucy’s highly sexed new friend-with-benefits.
A friend with very noisy benefits. And it would be carrying on for quite a while yet. Wearily Nick threw back his duvet and climbed out of bed, wondering if Lucy had any idea just how clearly he could hear everything.
They were still going when he returned to the bedroom ten minutes later after his shower. Dressing at the speed of light – ‘Oh yes, oh yes, don’t stop ’ – he ran a comb through his hair and picked up his phone, ready to escape downstairs. The next moment he was stopped dead in his tracks by the loud, insistent dddddddrrrrringggg of next-door’s doorbell being pressed. And pressed. Then pressed some more.
It stopped the couple in their tracks too. For a blissful moment, other than the doorbell itself, silence reigned. Then a fist that meant business began hammering against the wooden front door, and a woman’s voice yelled furiously, ‘Michael? Michael! You bastard, open the door this minute. I know you’re in there!’
At first Nick had thought the caller must be Lucy’s other neighbour, begging them to stop waking him up at such a godawful hour. Now it became apparent that it was more personal than that.
‘Fuck,’ said the man currently in Lucy’s bed. ‘Fuck fuck fuck .’
‘Don’t look out of the window,’ Lucy said urgently. Her words were muffled but Nick was just able to make them out. ‘She can’t know you’re in here. She’ll leave eventually.’
But something about the woman’s voice had rung a bell with Nick. He crossed to the window and peered down into the street below, his heart plummeting when he recognised the top of the woman’s head.
Fuck indeed .
‘Michael,’ bellowed Michael’s wife from the pavement, ‘I’m not going anywhere until you open this door.’
OK, Ms Super-efficient Concierge, let’s see you sort out this mess.
If it hadn’t involved Lucy, the fraught situation might almost have been funny. But it was Lucy, and it wasn’t the kind of situation he could laugh at. Raising his voice only slightly, to let them know how non-soundproof the wall was, Nick said, ‘Might be an idea to get dressed before you go downstairs.’
As he swung out of the bedroom, he heard a horrified gasp from the other side of the shared wall.
The minutes that followed weren’t his favourite of all time, but they did achieve near-farcical heights. Michael and Muriel Featherstone from Norwich had been staying for the past ten days at the Cedars with their extended family in order to celebrate the golden wedding anniversary of Muriel’s parents.
The good news – relatively speaking – was that it transpired Michael was a serial adulterer who’d been caught out several times before, so Muriel might still be furious but it hadn’t actually come as a complete shock to her. Having grown suspicious when she’d returned to their bedroom on day four of their stay to find her husband changing his outfit whilst Lucy was in the bathroom checking their supply of towels, she had discreetly activated Find My Phone on his mobile and discovered that Michael’s early-morning runs involved far less running than he’d been making out.
And far more making out.
The even better news, as far as Nick was concerned, was that from now on he wouldn’t be woken up at six in the morning by the sound of other people getting the day off to a better start than his own.
‘Oh my God,’ Nella exclaimed when he paused for breath. Over the last couple of months they’d fallen into the habit of texting each other every so often, and the other evening she’d called him to relate the latest mad story about the hotel in Manchester city centre where she was currently working, when two sisters had discovered they were both pregnant by the night porter and had proceeded to attack him in the middle of the foyer. ‘So what happens now?’
‘She’s resigned. I’ve just had her sobbing in my office. The guy made a play for her on day one, and she hasn’t had a boyfriend in years. She was flattered and . . . well, vulnerable, I suppose. Fell for his charms. She’s back in the cottage now, packing up her stuff.’
‘And what about the wife?’ said Nella. ‘She might decide to spread the word.’
That had occurred to Nick too. ‘You’re talking about TripAdvisor? I know, not the best kind of publicity.’
‘If you take your husband to a Starbourne Prestige property,’ Nella recited in a review-type voice, ‘be prepared for a member of staff to throw herself at him and drag him back to her place for wild sex.’
‘Nightmare.’
She laughed. ‘Depends on the member of staff. Maybe you could have a quiet word with her. Appeal to her better nature. Sleep with her if you have to. Might help to even things out.’
‘Thanks a lot,’ said Nick.
‘Just trying to cheer you up.’
‘How’s your night porter?’
‘Seven stitches in his leg, and lucky to still have his bits and bobs.’
‘Still enjoy working there, do you?’
‘It’s OK.’ Her tone was innocent. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘You know why I’m asking.’
‘I’d need to hear you actually say it, though. You can’t expect me to guess.’
Nick hesitated. So far it had been one hell of a morning and it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet. Even as he’d been agreeing that Lucy could leave right away without working out her notice, the idea had been bouncing around in his head like a toddler high on E numbers. Before, he’d told himself that offering the job to Nella Hughes would be a bad idea. But that was because he had offered her the job and she’d turned it down.
This time it could happen, and the prospect no longer seemed quite so terrible. Besides, he needed a replacement for Lucy asap.
Who was he kidding? Of course he wanted Nella to work for him.
‘Should I advertise the position?’ he said. ‘Or do you think you might be interested in taking it?’
‘Goodness!’ Nella feigned surprise. ‘ Me? ’
‘So long as you promise not to sleep with any of the guests.’
‘I’d have to give a week’s notice up here.’
‘Of course. Is that a yes?’
She was smiling now; he could hear it in her voice. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’