Chapter 21
21
25 NOVEMBER
I wake to intense banging. Then it dawns on me it’s coming from inside my own head. Gah. I piece the previous evening back together and groan, pulling the pillow over my head so I can hide from my bad choices. But it doesn’t help. Mini jackhammers are drilling into my grey matter, while outside, actual hammers are hammering away in the hotel.
I glance at my watch and groan. It’s well past ten. What must JP and his crew think of me, a no show? This is all Manon’s doing.
One thing is certain: I need paracetamol and coffee, in that order. I throw myself in the shower and get dressed, going a little slower than normal due to my fragile state. Flashes of the evening before appear when I least expect them. Did I engage in a round of shots? Urgh. And… sing with the death metal band?
In the kitchen, I find painkillers and wash them down with some orange juice.
‘ Bonjour, soleil .’ Manon saunters in looking bright and energetic. Life is not fair.
‘It’s not good morning, sunshine. Not even close.’
She takes a stool opposite the stainless-steel island bench. ‘Suffering a little?’
‘A lot.’
‘You really let your hair down. That dance you did with Noah’ – she pulls her collar out as if she’s hot – ‘certainly got everyone’s attention.’
Mon Dieu. ‘Ah – which dance was that?’
She shrugs as she pours coffee for the two of us. ‘I think it was meant to be a kind of… tango?’
I want to curl up in a ball and die. ‘But – but I don’t know how to tango.’
‘You gave it your best shot.’
‘With Noah?’
‘Uh-huh. He was just as surprised. You don’t remember any of this?’
It’s all coming back to me, in mortifying flashes. ‘Manon, this is all your fault! I went over there to berate him, not… to tango with the guy. Then you ordered those blue-flamed cocktails that tasted like petrol and on it went, bad choice after bad choice and still no further along in my manuscript.’
‘That’s a lie. You told everyone last night you had written a sentence and then Noah was on about how Hemingway said something along the lines of only needing to write one true sentence and the others would follow, and then you got into a debate about toxic masculinity…’
‘ Merci , Manon. That’s quite enough of a recap for me.’
Her cheeks are pinked as if she’s just done a workout or had a brisk walk in the cold. ‘I haven’t had a fun night out like that in ages. I can’t wait for this evening’s festivities to start. We’ll drink vin chaud , eat Brie de Meaux, jambon de Bayonne and partake in a Christmas movie quiz. A little more subdued so maybe it’s not your thing?’
‘This evening? Next door?’
‘ Oui .’
I narrow my eyes. Subdued. She’s teasing me. ‘Count me out. How are you so bright and bubbly today?’ By the looks of her peachy complexion and clear eyes, Manon is suffering not one after-effect.
‘One alcoholic beverage, one water. Those are my set-in-stone drinking rules. And I didn’t partake in any shots. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen that side of you before. I was a little blown away. Uninhibited Anais is a whole different person.’
I groan and lie my head on the kitchen bench. The cool of the stainless steel is a godsend for my thumping headache. ‘How am I ever going to face Noah again?’
‘What do you mean? He had a great time with you.’
‘That’s not the real me and you know it.’
Manon lifts a lock of my hair. ‘Ah, she’s under there somewhere.’
‘We’re supposed to be painting the guest lounge today, but I don’t think I have the energy.’
‘Why don’t you write?’
With a hangover as ghastly as this, I’m not sure I can do much except suffer and wait for it to pass. ‘ Oui , perhaps I’ll focus on my book today. One thing I’m still confused about is, why the death metal band? It doesn’t gel with what I know of our neighbour so far. It seems an odd choice.’
‘Ah.’ Manon leans her elbows on the bench. ‘Every now and then he opens the bar for struggling Parisian musicians, so they get some exposure. He also gives them a percentage of the beverage profits to help them out. Due to his generosity, the bar has quite the cult following, as locals want to support artists, and I suppose Noah too, who is the brains behind it all. Not such a bad guy, eh?’
I don’t want to give Manon the satisfaction of seeing my surprise, but I am a little taken aback by Noah’s actions. It’s a great opportunity for musicians to share their gift, and for him to share part of the spoils with them shows a sweet side to his character.
‘It’s good of him,’ I eventually manage, and am rewarded with an eye roll. ‘I better get to work so the entire day is not wasted.’
Manon yawns. Maybe she’s not so bright-eyed and bushy tailed as I once thought. ‘The new mattresses for the four guest suites are due to arrive today along with the new linen. How about I get everything washed and folded away, if we’re not painting the guest lounge today?’
We have a small laundry at the back of the hotel. While the machines are antiquated, they’re all in working order. ‘Great idea.’
‘Leave it to me.’
In my suite, I sit at the desk and wait for inspiration to strike. While I’m waiting, I open a new Word document and start typing up my Christmas card list. I even include Noah’s name because it’s the neighbourly thing to do. Once that’s done, I go back to my manuscript and start over.
Rain lashed at the window while Hilary sat at her desk, waiting for inspiration to strike. She had a lot on her mind, what with the surly neighbour next door intent on ruining her life. Wild and robust in nature, the man was a walking cliché, but nobody but her could see it. Yeah, sure, he might have had a soft side to him, with his generosity helping local musicians, but that didn’t give him the right to boss her about. Now she’d made things a hundred times worse, by drinking too much in his bar and attempting to tango with the damn man, and who knows what else. He was exactly her type, and that’s why she had to avoid him. Short of vanishing, she didn’t quite know how she was going to manage that. Unless he had himself a little accident…
A little accident? What is wrong with me? I go back and edit. Unless, he had himself a little accident… My keyboard keys are clattering in time with the pounding in my head and in the end I abort mission and decide a nap is the best option.