‘I’m knackered,’ said Avril looking at her watch as we walked into the hotel foyer.
‘And my feet are bloody killing me.’ She slipped off her leather Russell and Bromley tasselled loafers and stood in her dainty stockinged feet, before whipping out her phone and photographing them.
‘I’m going to post on Twitter … Weary feet, hashtag Wonderful Copenhagen, Smorebrod, Amelieberg. All ace. Hashtag press trip antics.’
I knew exactly how she felt; I’d been on the go since five that morning.
A hot bath in the gorgeously decadent hotel bathroom and a nice cup of tea would go down a storm.
‘A drink will sort you out,’ said Conrad. ‘It’s well past the yard arm. How about the hotel bar, Kate, my love?’
‘I think people are probably a bit tired.’ And some of us still had work to do. Last time I checked my email there were a stack of messages demanding my attention.
‘I don’t mind,’ said David, who seemed quite keen on the idea. ‘Sounds like a good idea.’
‘Will that leave us enough time to get ready?’ asked Avril, tucking her shoes under her arm, pulling a mirror from her bag and checking her make-up.
‘Bags of time. Besides you’re gorgeous as you are,’ said Conrad with his old-school charm, before adding, with a mock lascivious leer that had everyone laughing, ‘No one’s going to kick you out of bed, darling.’
Avril, standing next to me, responded with a tight smile and I think only I heard her quiet words hidden under the burst of laughter, ‘Not sure my husband would agree.’
Unfortunately, after a quick confab everyone but Avril and Ben decided to go to the hotel bar and they both headed to the lifts. I watched them go, rather enviously.
This was exactly what I’d feared. Not being able to control everyone.
‘What’s everyone having?’ asked Conrad gaily. ‘Shall we put it on your room tab, Kate?’
I gave him a tight smile. Oh God, the bill could be huge. Megan would kill me.
‘Just a water, thanks Conrad,’ I said hoping that everyone would follow my abstemious suit. No such luck. Three beers, and a large red wine later, an astronomic bar bill was presented to me.
Despite craving a break from being on duty and having to be ‘on it’, when I finally retreated from the bar, I found the quiet luxury of the room a little bit disconcerting. The silence had a deadness to it that wasn’t so comforting. I’d already unpacked and wasn’t quite ready to tackle my emails yet. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. Flicking through the channels on the TV, everything was in Danish apart from BBC News.
I put it on for some background noise.
It was so rare for me to have time to do nothing. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.
Picking up my phone I WhatsApped Connie a picture of the open sandwiches at lunch, with the caption Smorrebrod.
Tough life, babe, but someone’s got to do it. While some of us are up to our arses in frigging frogspawn – Springwatch time again in reception class.
She sent me a selfie of her lower trouser leg with a jelly sweet stuck to it and the caption, Harribrod, which made me laugh out loud. She always managed to make me feel better, although she’d be furious with me if she thought I wasn’t making the most of this plush hotel room, the fabulous bathroom and the chance to luxuriate in a lovely deep bath for a change.
I plugged in my Bluetooth speaker, selecting my favourite playlist on my phone, a selection of indie rock tracks and ran a bath.
After wallowing in the hotel’s Sage and Seaspray foaming bath wash, singing along to the Kings of Leon, I felt a whole lot better. A lot of which had to do with the rare exercising of my vocal chords. As a kid I used to sing all the time, school productions, university reviews and amateur productions – as I got older I’d got out of the habit. I’d forgotten how uplifting it could be.
Gathering together make-up and tonight’s outfit, I remembered I needed to recharge my phone. I could pop it on quickly before I went down. Rooting around in my suitcase, I hunted for the cable. There was no sign of it.
Mentally I retraced my steps yesterday as I packed picturing it on the side in the kitchen where I’d left it. Damn I’d have to ask if I could borrow one.
The hotel’s dining room, the last word in elegance and luxury, was situated on the top floor with a misty grey view of the sea and sky in the distance. Heavy damask cloths covered each table and more flowers decorated the room, with vases of grape hyacinths on each table.
Only Ben and Avril were missing when I arrived and I slipped into the chair beside David. Conrad had already ordered a bottle of red wine and held court waving his wine glass about. I winced as I picked up the menu. There were about eight kroner to a pound which made the expensive prices look even more eye-watering. The cheapest bottle was a scary four hundred and fifty kroner, thankfully, I calculated that was a mere fifty quid.
‘Evening Kate,’ he called. ‘To our hostess.’
‘Did he leave the bar?’ I asked David under my breath.
‘No, I popped back to my room and when I came back down, he was still in the bar, I had to drag him in here to dinner.’ We both studied Conrad’s wiry frame.
‘I don’t know where he puts it.’ I shook my head. ‘He never seems to get drunk.’
David tilted his head. ‘He doesn’t drink quite as much as you think. He never empties a glass before he tops it up. Although the amount he does put away would still fell a couple of rugby players.’
Avril arrived looking stunning in a figure hugging red dress which turned several heads as she sauntered into the restaurant. She made a big fuss of not wanting to sit at the end of the table, so I swapped with her so that she could be in the middle next to Sophie and Conrad and opposite Mads and David. Fiona quite happily settled into the seat next to David.
I looked at my watch. Still no sign of Ben.
The waitress came to take our order.
I went around the table and whispered to Mads, ‘Should we wait for Ben?’
Mads shook his head. ‘No, I’ve learned on these trips, you carry on otherwise your whole schedule goes out the window. It’s ten minutes after we arranged to meet. When he comes, he can order then.’
‘Maybe I’ll give him a call.’ Personally, I’d quite happily let him starve, ungrateful sod.
I slipped out of the dining room and the barman caught my eye and beckoned me over.
‘Could you sign your bar bill? Room three-two-one?’
I gulped at the cost of Conrad’s additional drinks after I’d left.
Signing the slip, I turned and called Ben’s phone. There was only one bar left on my battery. It clicked straight through to answerphone. I waited for a minute, checking my emails quickly and then called again. Still no answer. I sent a quick text as polite as I could manage.
We’re waiting for you to order. What time do you think you’ll be here? Kind regards Kate.
By the time our second course had arrived, Ben still hadn’t turned up and there’d been no response to my text. My fists clenched underneath the table. He was determined to follow through and be a pain in the arse.
There was still no sign of him when the waitress gathered up our plates.
‘What about you, Kate?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Do you want some cheese? Or a dessert?’
‘Er … what’s everyone else having?’
I’d glanced down at my phone and seen a text from Megan.
How’s it going? Everyone behaving themselves?
Oh shit, what would she say if she knew Ben was already doing his own thing?
‘I don’t know anything about Danish cheese, apart from Danish Blue,’ said Sophie. ‘I’d like to see what else they have.’ Conrad agreed to join her although I’m not sure that he knew anything about cheese. He seemed incapable of turning down anything that was going free. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d produced a couple of sandwich bags and loaded them up with the left-over bread at the table.
I checked my phone again and then saw that it had now died. It forced my hand.
‘I’m going to check on Benedict.’
Before anyone could say anything, I stalked out of the dining room.
I might have guessed as I stormed down the corridor that his room was the one with the empty dinner tray sitting right outside it.
He’d had room service! That was just rude.
Thankfully there was a doorbell because otherwise I might have looked like a lunatic woman hammering on the door. I held my finger down on the bell.
After a good minute, I heard cursing and mumbling through the door, not that I cared, I kept my finger firmly pressed on that button.
The door flew open and a tousled, sleepy Ben stood in front of me, blinking dopily, in black jersey boxers and nothing else. Something tugged in my chest at the sight of him as my mouth went dry.
‘What the …?’ he asked frowning, looking confused and … gorgeous.
He had no right looking like that, all cute, sleepy and adorable. He wasn’t adorable. He was rude, surly and horrible.
‘Sorry, I was worried about you.’ My shrewish tone made it clear that I was anything but. ‘Forget the time?’ I gave the tray on the floor a pointed look.
Instead of answering or even bloody apologising, he turned his back and walked back into the room leaving the door wide open.
I was so taken aback I opened my mouth but nothing came out. So I followed him.
Almost oblivious to me, he stumbled back towards the bed and flopped backwards, pulling the sheet over him. His eyes closing instantly.
What. The. Hell.
My eyes widened as my hands curled into fists. The … the …
He lay there oblivious to me and I stood there too gobsmacked to say or do anything.
I took a step closer, puzzled now. Was he ill?
Was that why he’d not come down? Had he got some medical condition? Had he been ill? I sniffed as if that might give me a clue but the room smelled perfectly normal.
My heart picked up a beat or two as I stood in the semi-dark room. He’d left one bedside lamp on which emitted a golden glow.
I took an uncertain step towards the bed. My first aid training from Girl Guides was long out of date. About the only thing I could remember was check the patient is still breathing, and that wasn’t in doubt. I watched the slow rise and fall of his broad chest. Heck no, he was definitely breathing, even so I couldn’t seem to peel my gaze away from his chest. My hormones were leading the charge, squealing yum, yum. A light dusting of tiny freckles dappled his skin, which had that slight gold cast of a redhead who’s acclimatised to the sun. Fine dark copper hair dusted the smooth skin of the centre of his chest between well-defined pecs before arrowing down his stomach and disappearing beneath his boxers.
His eyes were closed and his face had slackened, one arm thrown above his head, the other stretched away. I picked up musky male scent and my own breathing hitched as I stood over him. I barely knew him and watching him in bed felt so personal and wrong but what if he were really ill? I had no idea what I’d do. I could get Mads to call a doctor. What if he was hospitalised? What if he were seriously ill?
With a tentative hand, I leaned over towards the centre of the bed, my knees bracing the edge to keep my balance and reached out to touch his forehead to check his temperature, the only other sign of illness I could think of.
‘For fuck’s sake go away,’ he growled and like some horror film, his eyes flicked open staring up at me.
‘Eeek,’ I squeaked and toppled over right on top of his chest. Of course, I pushed against him, trying to scramble off as quickly as possible, my hands all over his chest. My fingers tingled at the touch and my heart raced like a startled deer.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’
‘I-I could ask you the same,’ I said, trying to appear unmoved, as I pushed myself back on my feet beside the bed, brushing myself down as if each stroke would help me regain my dignity which was hanging in tatters around my ankles.
‘I’m sleeping. Or at least I was until some weirdo tried to get into bed with me.’
‘I wasn’t trying to get into bed with you,’ I squeaked indignantly and then remembering the dignity thing, added. ‘No one’s that desperate.’
‘Who said anything about being desperate?’ His voice had dropped, deliberately smoky, and he gave me a piercing look.
Oh hell. My hormones danced into life, sending a rush of … of … something spiralling through my system leaving me a touch weak-kneed.
Hiding the sudden breathlessness, I snapped, ‘I thought you might be ill. Obviously I was wrong. Just inconsiderate and rude.’
‘And how do you figure that?’
‘It would have been courteous to let me know you weren’t joining us for dinner. Now that you’re on this trip, the least you could do is make an effort to join in. I see you availed yourself of room service.’
‘Or perhaps I was so darned tired, I wasn’t thinking straight on account of not having slept for two days. In fact, the thought didn’t come into it. I was running on empty. I needed food and sleep. There was nothing beyond that.’
‘Why haven’t you slept? Deadline? Great party?’
‘My sister’s husband upped and left her with a baby and a toddler. Arrived on my doorstep in the middle of the night. Between a wailing heartbroken sister, crying baby and toddler tantrum of the highest order, it was a tad difficult catching any shut-eye.’
‘You don’t look the sort to babysit.’ Not that I knew him that well, but with the stylish clothes, manbag and well-groomed appearance he had that non-dependent, unencumbered look about him, a bit like my brother John. Although it was hardly a good rule of thumb, Brandon’s unkempt appearance suggested he could have half a dozen offspring crawling all over him.
‘I’m not,’ he growled. ‘I like my sleep. It was supposed to be a one off. Except now I’m not there, I’m here where I didn’t want to be, she’s taken up residence and my neighbours are sending complaining texts every five minutes and she’s asking frightening questions like “where’s the stopcock?”. What the fuck does that mean?’
‘It means she wants to switch off the water,’ I said practicably.
‘I know that, but why?’
‘Probably flooding the place out,’ I said helpfully.
‘Thanks, you’re not helping.’
‘I wasn’t trying to.’
We lapsed into silence and then I realised how awkward it was standing there with him in bed.
‘Right well, I’d better go.’
‘And now I’m wide awake.’ The huge yawn that accompanied these words suggested otherwise and I could see his eyes drooping again.
‘Sorry,’ I said feeling a tad guilty. ‘I don’t suppose I could borrow your phone charger?’
‘Why? You left yours at home?’
‘Funnily enough, yes. That would be why I’m asking.’
‘Snarky much?’
‘Clearly the mad fox in you brings out the snark in me. I’m normally very polite and kind to dogs and small children.’
‘Somehow, I find that difficult to believe,’ he muttered and closed his eyes.
I stood there for a minute studying the sweep of his dark lashes against the pale skin, his eyes were shadowed purple. Despite looking washed out, the planes of his face and the tousled hair still packed a punch. He was a handsome bugger. I swallowed, feeling a bit like a peeping Tom. I’d been trying to tell myself that I’d built up the moment at the Great Room and my Prince Charming couldn’t possibly be as good looking as I’d thought and that I’d misremembered in the light of the next morning, but no it appeared my memory was spot on where the physical aspect was concerned, it just short-circuited when it came to his personality, which was completely charmless. Unfortunately, I had to overlook that as I still wanted something from him.
‘Ben?’ I whispered. He couldn’t have fallen asleep again.
He grunted and turned over muttering, ‘Shut the door on the way out.’