Page 79 of Not in a Million Years

‘Same.’ Daniel shrugged and carried on in a near-perfect imitation of Andy’s voice, ‘Don’t expect me to believe you want to sit through Sonic the Hedgehog 2. And besides, you’d nick all my popcorn.’

‘But couldn’t you—’

‘I’m not his keeper, Kate. And neither are you. In a couple of weeks, he’ll be going home. I won’t be able to control what he does then, so there’s no point me trying now.’

He was right, and I knew it.

His expression softened again. ‘Coffee?’

‘That would be great.’ I followed him into the sunny living room, hearing the welcome hum of the espresso machine as he flicked its switch. ‘I’m not sure there’s enough coffee in the world right now to make me feel awake, to be honest.’

He glanced sharply at me. ‘Another date with monsieur last night?’

‘Actually, no. I might be seeing Claude next week. But last night was all about the party animals next door. Look.’

I swiped my phone and showed him the Airbnb listing: ‘Spacious flat on the River Thames, perfect for hen and stag weekends.’

‘Blimey.’ He handed me a coffee, and I sat on the sofa. ‘That’s a bit out of order. Can’t you get the listing taken down?’

‘It’s my neighbour’s tenants. He’s raised the issue with Airbnb, but – you know – processes. It won’t go on forever – at least I bloody hope not – but it’ll take a while to resolve, apparently.’

Daniel took a seat next to me, crossing one lean calf over the other thigh. ‘It’s not like you to take stuff lying down like that.’

I could think of at least one thing I wouldn’t mind taking lying down, but I wasn’t going to say that to him. ‘To be honest, I’m too bloody shattered to do anything about it. And anyway, what could I do?’

‘Knock on their door and ask them nicely to turn the volume down?’

‘I tried that. It lasted five minutes and then they turned it up again. And even if I got one lot of guests who were decent and considerate, that’s not to say the next lot would be.’

‘Hmmm, yes, I can see how you might not want to knock on the door of a massive stag party at midnight in your pyjamas.’

‘They’d probably think I was the stripper they’d ordered and ask me in.’

Daniel gave me a look that made me feel like all the poppers on my dress were about to ping open. ‘That doesn’t bear thinking about. Actually, scratch that. It totally does.’

‘Never mind that,’ I said primly. ‘The point is, they’re there and there’s nothing I can do about it for the time being.’

‘What you need to do,’ he said, holding out his hand for my phone, ‘is affect the ratings of the place. Look at them now – loads of reviews saying how great it is, how clean, the view, central location, all of that. No wonder your hens and stags are queueing up to book it.’

‘Yeah, but I can’t leave reviews slagging it off. You have to have had a verified booking.’

‘You could book it for a weekend and say it’s shit?’

‘I already thought of that. But it’s booked solid all summer.’

‘So what you need to do is something that’s going to impact the guest experience. Could you organise a rat infestation or something?’

‘Jesus, no. What if they infested my place too?’

‘Fair point. Play your own music even louder?’

‘That wouldn’t exactly help me sleep, would it?’

‘Guess not.’ He frowned, and I admired the way his long eyelashes swept down over his grey eyes as he thought. ‘You could haunt it?’

‘I could what?’

‘Bang pan lids. Move things around mysteriously. Dress up in a white Victorian nightie and appear from behind doors.’

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