Works a dream.
Cassidy is bustling around in a smart black dress, ordering the catering staff about, and she keeps catching my eye conspiratorially as though we’re family, which makes me feel ridiculously happy. Nikolai has brought me a kale cocktail, which I’ve discreetly disposed of. The place is so crammed that I haven’t yet spotted Mavis Adler, although I’ve seen Gabrielle, surrounded by people wanting selfies, and Jana, sitting behind a table, dispiritedly trying to sell catalogs.
“Sasha!” A voice greets me and I turn to see Keith Hardy, wearing a linen jacket and startling pink paisley cravat. “Good to see you, young lady! Still enjoying yourself, are you?”
“Yes,” I say. “Very much so.” There’s a pause, so I add, “Stunning, isn’t it?”
“The art?” Keith wrinkles his brow. “Wouldn’t know. Looks like a building site to me. But see that?” He jerks his head toward the huge draped structure on a podium. “That’s the new one.”
“Yes, I know.” I peer at the form, intrigued. It’s obviously a statue, about twelve feet high, but it’s hard to see what it might be.
“All the council are hoping it’s a statue of Young Love,” Keith says confidingly. “Bring in new visitors, boost the economy. Like a sequel. Young Love Two kind of thing.”
“But it’s called Titan,” I say dubiously.
“Could still be the lovers kissing,” says Keith, undeterred. “Like the Titanic. Kate and Leo.”
“Well, maybe …”
“Sasha!” Another familiar voice greets me, and I swivel to see Hayley and Adrian West, dressed up smartly, holding champagne flutes.
“Hi!” I say, taking in their happy, flushed faces. “I haven’t seen you around!”
“We’ve been … busy.” Hayley leans into Adrian, giggling. He nibbles her ear, whereupon she giggles some more. “Ade!”
“Can’t help it,” he says, smirking. “Gorgeous wife like you.”
“So things are good?” I ask.
“Really good,” says Hayley, and leans forward to breathe quietly into my ear. “Thanks so much. To both of you. I don’t know what you said to him—”
“Oh, it was nothing,” I say hastily. “Just a conversation.”
“Well, it was the right conversation.” Hayley clasps my hand briefly. “We’ve upgraded to the four-poster suite. Comes with butler service!”
“Really?” I’m intrigued. “Who’s the butler?”
“Nikolai. He puts on a tailcoat—keeps it on a hook in the corridor. Does his best, bless him. We haven’t wanted much, though. Just a bit of room service.”
“Do not disturb,” says Ade, pinching Hayley’s bum. “Know what I mean?”
“Got you.” I nod. “Loud and clear.”
“Oh, and we bought your Hula-Hoop!” adds Hayley brightly. “Haven’t used it yet, though.”
“My what?” I say, confused.
“Your Hula-Hoop? Recommended by Sasha?”
“What?”
“On the app.” Hayley peers at my blank face. “The Rilston app. Don’t you have the app?”
“I … um … something went wrong,” I say. “My notifications stopped. What’s ‘Recommended by Sasha’?”
“You don’t know?” says Hayley incredulously. She gets out her phone, searches for something, then hands it to me, and I see a series of texts from the Rilston app.
Welcome to the Rilston Hotel health range, as recommended by our resident wellness guru Sasha Worth! Yoga mats and Hula-Hoops are available to buy or rent at reception (limited supplies). #RecommendedbySasha
Follow Sasha’s lead and do beach yoga on our glorious sands!! Available every day, no charge. #RecommendedbySasha
The “Rilston” kale smoothie is now available. Created especially for resident wellness guru Sasha Worth, it combines health with flavor. Give it a try! #RecommendedbySasha
Remember, Kick-Back Night is a vital part of your wellness break. Half-price tequila shots at the bar tonight!!! #RecommendedbySasha
Maybe I should be angry, but all I can do is laugh.
“I wanted to ask,” Hayley is saying now. “Have you done an online Hula-Hoop tutorial?”
Have I done an online Hula-Hoop tutorial?
“No,” I manage. “Sorry.”
I guess I’m an influencer now. Maybe I could get a deal with Club biscuits. Or White Wine, no vintage. And now I really can’t stop laughing, because it’s all so ridiculous, so Cassidy, so Rilston, that when I see Simon approaching me, I almost want to give him a hug. He seems even more flustered than usual. He’s breathing hard, his shirt is all skew-whiff, and his hair on end, and as he gets near, I ask anxiously, “Simon, are you OK?”
“I have unfortunately just had to eject Mike Strangeways the magician from the premises,” he says, looking harassed. “It became a rather unseemly encounter—” He breaks off, frowning as though something’s puzzling him, then reaches into his collar and slowly pulls out six colorful silk handkerchiefs, tied together.
“Very nice!” I applaud, but Simon looks stricken.
“May I assure you, that was not deliberate. Clearly in my recent tussle with Mike Strangeways, one of his magic props made its way into my apparel.” He holds the silk handkerchiefs fastidiously away from himself with his fingertips. “Ms. Worth, these are not the high standards we expect of ourselves at the Rilston, and I can only—”
“Don’t apologize.” I cut him off with sudden fervor. “Please. Don’t apologize. Simon, your hotel is wonderful. Unconventional, maybe—but wonderful. I’ve had the most amazing, transformative stay here, and if I could give you ten stars on Tripadvisor, I would.” I gaze at him earnestly. “All the stars. All the stars.”
“Ms. Worth!” Simon seems overcome. “My goodness.” He rubs his face, then pulls out a fresh hanky from his pocket and blows his nose. “Well. That is very kind of you.”
“I wish you every success. All of you.” I gesture around the faded ballroom. “With the Skyspace Beach Studios, with the next season … everything.”
“You sound as though you’re not planning to stay with us for much longer?” ventures Simon.
“You’re right.” I smile at him. “I think I’m coming to the end.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy this evening all the more.” He nods pleasantly and bows—then, as he catches sight of something, his face tenses up. “What is Cassidy doing with that helium canister? Ms. Worth, please excuse me.…”
He darts off through the crowd, and I watch him fondly. I’m going to miss this place. But already, mentally, I’m checking out.
To my left there’s a slight hubbub around a gray-haired woman in a scarlet linen smock dress, and I realize this is the famous Mavis Adler. I watch for a moment as people clasp her by the hand, craning to hear every word she says, and wonder what it must be like to be her. Finn would have had a piece of that attention, if he’d only come forward—
Then, just as though thinking about him has made him appear, I hear Finn’s voice, and an arrow goes through my heart.
“Sasha.”
I take a breath before I turn. He bends to kiss me and I clasp him close. I inhale the scent of him deeply, wanting to savor this us forever.
I allow myself five precious seconds. Five seconds of Finn and me, in our bubble, with all the questions still unasked. But then I force myself to draw away. It’s time to have the talk.
Old Sasha would have put it off. Clung to the status quo. Avoided anything challenging or hard or hurtful.
But new Sasha knows what she has to do.
“How was therapy?” I begin.
“Good.” He nods. “Heavy duty. Kind of exhausting. How’ve you been? How was the meeting?”
There’s so much to tell him. About my job, about Joanne, even about #RecommendedbySasha—but there’s only one conversation I need to have right now.
“All good,” I say. “Finn, I was wondering …”
“Yes?”
I take a sip of champagne, playing for time, my lips trembling. Everything depends on this.
“I never properly asked you,” I say lightly. “Why exactly did you get so angry? What was the source of your stress? Was it work? Or … something else?”
The door is open. Wide open. If he wants to tell me now, he can.