Bollocks. Only one bed.
I drop my bag in a corner and head for the tub. At times like this there is little more a man can do than soak for an hour or three. The one bed means that in the course of tonight Mordino will have to sort himself out with some accommodation. For now it is time to become reacquainted with the smell of ylang ylang.
The noise of the bedroom door woke me from my decent, semi-submerged nap. The bubbles tickle under the nose, very soothing. I see a squat shadow dart past the bathroom door and into the bedroom and gingerly step out of the bath in pursuit.
‘Hello,’ I announce, standing in the doorway. There is a short bearded bloke pulling my bag onto his back.
‘Bliddy hell. They said nowt about anyone in here,’ he garbled, eyeing me from the far corner before screwing up his face. ‘Put some clothes on.’
Before I could argue that there was in fact ’someone in here’, and justifiably naked in my own room, the git ran past me. Not being one to let my bags run away from me, I gave chase, calculating that as the taller of the two I would catch up with him in a jiffy.
My mathematics under duress not being what it should be he got away, but not before I followed him down the stairwell and back out through the foyer. It was the sudden cold air that did it, froze things up.
Livid, I walked back into the hotel. The reception was unattended so I was forced to brazenly walk toward the bar, cupping the jewels for some dignity.
I called to Mordino from the door but he was preoccupied by a man in spats.
