Page 117 of The Wake-Up Call

“Right,” the woman says, and I wince at theclickas she hangs up.

“No luck?” Poor Mandy says sympathetically, popping up from the front of the desk, where she is doing what Izzy refers to as “festooning.” Everyone is either festooning for Izzy or chopping vegetables for Arjun right now.

“No luck,” I say.

Poor Mandy pats my arm. She has been patting me a lot since the Christmas-card debacle was cleared up. I think she feels responsible for Izzy and me torturing one another for a year. Which she is, a bit.

“Do you know what, dear?” Mandy says, beginning the arduous process of checking her phone: glasses coming down from her head, hand going into her pocket, a lot of wriggling and bouncing up and down in her chair as she eases the phone out from her jeans, the case flipping open, her glasses dropping down her nose and up again... “I may be able to help you.”

I appreciate Poor Mandy—she is always reliable, she’s very popular with the guests, and she works all the worst shifts. But I am almost certain that her idea will involve tweeting to our 112 followers, and I simply cannot see that helping.

“Thank you,” I say. “Feel free to try.”

“Any luck?” Ollie calls as he dashes past with a tray of jellies.

“Not yet,” I call after him. “Do you know if Izzy is having—”

“I’m Switzerland!” Ollie yells over his shoulder. “You’re getting nothing out of me!”

“Anything on the ring?” Barty calls down the newly functioning stairs as he dashes along the landing. Everyone is dashing today. It is giving the hotel a faint buzz, as though someone has dialled all the appliances up at once.

“Not yet,” I call. Everyone’s support is appreciated, but also, when I have no updates, slightly irritating.

“Lucas! Anything on the—”

“Not yet!” I snap, and then look up to find the cool gaze of my girlfriend.

“—Christmas party menu that’s vegan?”

“Oh.”

I soften instantly. Izzy looks amused.

“Yes. Here.”

I show her Arjun’s latest scribbled version of the menu. She scans over it and I watch, hungry for the sight of her. All that time I spent thinking I could do without Izzy Jenkins in my day, and now I truly cannot have too much of her.

“Have we—”

“Yes. They’re set up in the orangery.”

She taps her bottom lip, still scanning the menu.

“Does Arjun know about the—”

“Yes. He swore a lot, but we got through it.”

Izzy nods. She looks up at me.

“And—”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t actually—”

“I am confident that it is already done.”

“It’s not, because—”

---