‘It’s not really that sort of hotel. But we could go there just the same. I’m still booked in.’
‘Oh let’s do that. And you know what? We could take our bottle of wine. I lost it, then I found it again. I knew it was symbolic.’
Richard, amused, picked it up. ‘Well, what do you know? Come on then. Let’s go and say goodbye to Sally.’
‘Oh, Richard,’ Julie said, preparing to lie, ‘Don’t kiss Sally. She’s got a cold sore.’
‘Really, I didn’t notice.’
He’s so innocent, thought Julie, he shouldn’t be allowed out on his own. Still, he’d dealt with the old dragon, and that must have taken some doing.
They arrived at the Hotel London Berkeley, where no nightingales sang. It was a small business hotel, with a very correct desk clerk at Reception.
Julie, modern woman though she was, was nevertheless ready to slink up the back stairs.
Richard, however, approached the desk.
‘My friend is staying the night,’ he said without a blush, ‘and I’d like to change my room. Can I take over the bridal suite?’
The desk clerk looked startled.
‘I’m afraid we have no such room, sir.’ Then he relented a little and a gently amused smile crossed his face. ‘But I can let you have a nice double room overlooking the square. I’ll get the porter to take up madam’s luggage.’
‘Madam hasn’t got any luggage,’ Richard told him. He took out his wallet. ‘Just send up a bottle of champagne - and some flowers. You can put it on the bill.’
‘And your belongings from your other room, sir.’
‘Just leave them outside the door.’
‘It’s Room 28, sir. Will that be all?’
‘That’ll be all.’ He took the key from the clerk and passed him a ten pound note. ‘Thanks for your help.’
Julie totally awed by this new aspect of Richard, followed him silently to the elevator. They stood looking at each other in the small claustrophobic space without saying anything.
They arrived on the second floor, and Richard took Julie’s hand, the key pressing hard into her palm, and propelled her to the room, only releasing his grip as they stood at the entrance. He still clasped the bottle of wine in his other hand, almost oblivious to it.
He unlocked the door and held it open for Julie, his eyes following her, and as she walked in, she half turned toward him.
‘I’ve missed you,’ she said.
Once inside the room, he clicked the door shut, and put down the wine.
A while later, a porter tapped on the door.
‘Room service, sir.’
He tapped again but got no reply. Shrugging his shoulders, he put the bottle of champagne and a dozen roses, acquired with great difficulty at that time on a Saturday night, on the floor outside the door. When he returned an hour later with a suitcase containing Richard’s belongings, they were still there.
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A Bottle of Plonk Page 13