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bit more of him. Do you think I d make a consultant? You got on all right, didn t you?
 Except for that incident with the homophobic Scot. No reason why you shouldn t. I ve
found it a very worthwhile experience. I m only there one day a week on the Dunblane
project, which is probably bigger than most. I think a lot of the assignments are much smaller
scale, a few weeks on projects in modest hotels. Full-time, the pace may be wearing, but a mix
of consultancy and personnel work might be a good combination for you.
For dinner we finished up the odds and ends of food that had accumulated in the fridge,
and after watching TV for an hour and a half went upstairs, each of us to our own rooms, all
of us probably wishing we did not have to sleep alone.
Cheerful as ever the next morning Lizetta sat between us in the front of the van on the drive
to Edinburgh Airport. She hugged and kissed us both at the boarding gate when we said
goodbye, and Darren and I returned to the van to begin our long drive down to London.  She
really loves him, doesn t she? he said, as we picked up speed to take our place amid the
stream of vehicles on the motorway.
 Hard to say. What is all this about being in love?
 Was the firm like that when you were there?
 Not as bad. There were clashes  it was a competitive place  people don t leave their bad
habits and problems behind them at the reception desk when they come into work. In any
organisation where hundreds of people are thrown together day after day you get little cliques
forming, trying to outmanoeuvre each other. Some people seem to thrive on it. Perhaps I did.
I ve changed.
Traffic reports on the radio told us that roads south of Edinburgh were clear of snow, and
we escaped the motorway for a while by driving down on the A7 to Carlisle. On a quiet
stretch I let Darren, who had yet to pass his driving test, take the wheel for about twenty
minutes, but traffic built up and when light drizzle near Langholm made visibility difficult, I
thought it best to take over from him again.
In the Midlands we were caught for miles in a long crawling tailback caused by a serious
accident. We knew we were close to it when we saw cars in front being directed onto the hard
shoulder to pass the blocked carriageways. We turned our heads, as everyone does, to see
what we could of the crash. There were three mangled cars, one of them lying on its roof, and
a van very similar to our own lying on its side near the central barrier. Fragments of glass,
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plastic and unrecognisable bits of vehicle littered the tarmac. Paramedics were putting a
stretcher covered in a dark red blanket into the rear of an ambulance.
A few seconds later the carnage was behind us and the road ahead fairly clear. Darren
twiddled the controls of the radio, switching from station to station until he found a news
report, the announcer saying in a voice of practised concern that a man and a woman were
thought to have been killed and a number of people seriously injured. We sped on south,
keeping our place in the long lines of traffic stretching ahead and behind, glad to be with the
fortunate majority whose journey had not been violently cut short. Darren put in the
earpieces from his portable stereo and became absorbed in his music, leaving me to
concentrate on the drive.
My absence from Goodmans Hotel for four days proved that it could operate perfectly well
without me. The deputy manager of Housmans Hotel, except for a few hours off during the
quiet periods of early afternoon and late evening, had lived in on duty the whole time. He
brought me up to date with which rooms were occupied, and showed me a substantial amount
of cash that had accumulated in the desk drawer. After we counted this together he said he
had one last thing to report, that someone had called to see me, had not wanted to leave his
name but said he would call back. He ended his long stint of being on duty with the words:
 Not complaining, but it will be a relief to be able to go out with a few friends for a quiet drink
tonight.
On Tuesday morning, as I put out the rubbish for collection, a sweet scent from one of the
winter flowering shrubs planted by Darren perfumed the air around the gate. Looking back at
the hotel, the paintwork on the facade still fresh, the business again seemed to me to be all
that I could have wished it to be.
This feeling of self-satisfaction lasted until Tom s brother came up to me outside the
newsagent s a few hours later. He had had his hair cut shorter than ever and I was not sure
who he was until he started to speak.  Oh good, he shouted,  lucky I saw you, I called in at
the hotel the other day but you was out.
 Did you?
 Yes. What s happened to Tom? What s he doing down in Portsmouth?
 Working, so far as I know.
 There s plenty of work for him round here. What s he doing down there? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]