Page 24 of Rescuing Rosie
The hotel residents in the bar were, Rosie assumed, mostly the wellness retreaters. They certainly had the look of Vybe’s target market – expensively maintained women, basking in the results of their afternoon pampering: buffed skin, plump lips, beautiful nails, shiny hair. Glasses of Prosecco were boosting their glow-ups. At some point she’d grab a few words from them, see how they were enjoying their weekend. But not now.
Rosie spotted Ashley at the bar, talking to Jono. There was no sign of Dale or Madison, or any of the other crew members.
Ashley greeted her with a warm smile. ‘Rosie! All booted up for tomorrow?’
‘Yes! Amazing boots. I walked up a rock face like Spiderman.’
‘You did what?’ said Jono.
‘Well, a smallish rocky slope in a field, but it still felt cool.’ She looked around the room. ‘Where’s everyone else?’ she said, meaning Dale.
‘Madison’s probably getting ready for dinner – she’s saying a few words. You’re doing some pics, right?’ Ashley said to Jono, who nodded. Rosie didn’t miss the way their eyes locked.
‘Let’s get you a drink,’ said Ashley, beckoning to the barman. ‘Gaz, this is Rosie; she’s writing about us for a magazine. Your finest Xanadu, if you please, and don’t spare the gin. In fact, make that three Xanadus. I’m off duty,’ he added with a wink. Judging by his flushed cheeks and the way his green eyes were glittering, Rosie guessed he and Jono had been in the bar for a while.
As Gaz lined up bottles and began pouring measures into the cocktail shaker, Rosie said, ‘Xanadu – is that a Lake District reference? It was like, a paradise, right?’
‘From Coleridge’s poem “Kubla Khan”,’ said Ashley. ‘In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree. We’re not quite a pleasure dome here at Grasmere Heights, but believe me, Rosie, the hot yoga sessions come close. Especially when they’re taken by the very bendy Caleb from Cockermouth.’
Rosie snorted. ‘I must partake, for research purposes. Will Caleb be coming tomorrow?’
‘Undoubtedly,’ said Ashley. ‘He usually comes early. Before breakfast.’
Gaz was busy mixing Rosie’s cocktail in stages, carefully pouring each into a long, tall glass. At the bottom the liquid was green, blending into yellow, then mauve, and now he was topping it with something blue. With a flourish he placed a slice of lemon and a sprig of mint on the rim, which had been dipped in what looked like purple salt. He placed it in front of Rosie and said, ‘Enjoy,’ before picking up his shaker and starting again.
‘Christ almighty,’ said Jono. He lifted his camera from where it sat on the bar and snapped a pic of the drink. ‘I thought this was a health spa.’
Rosie was thirsty, but it was with some degree of trepidation that she took a sip of the psychedelic concoction. And then choked. ‘Holy heck,’ she said. It had set fire to her throat, but itwasdelicious. ‘How can something that looks so disgusting taste this divine?’
‘A tribute to Coleridge’s opium-fuelled vision,’ said Ashley.
‘What’s in it?’
‘The milk of paradise,’ he said.
‘For she on honey-dew hath fed,’ offered Jono.
‘And so I find myself in Poet’s Corner,’ said Rosie. ‘And there was me thinking Oop North was all coal mines and brass bands. How come you can quote Coleridge?’ she asked Jono.
‘I can’t – I read it in the cocktail menu,’ he said, handing it to her. ‘The hotel’s being very generous. So far I’ve had a Daffodil, a Lady of Shallott, and a Grecian Urn.’
Rosie frowned. ‘Do they do a hangover cure too? Big day tomorrow, Jono.’
‘Good point. I should probably eat something.’
Rosie was thinking the same. She’d had only a banana, a scone and a couple of chocolates today.
The Xanadu swiftly got to work, and she fanned herself with the menu as she felt her face flush. Five short minutes later, her glass was empty.
‘Another over here!’ called Ashley.
‘Have you seen Dale?’ Rosie asked. ‘From the boot shop? I was meant to meet him here for a pint.’
‘Dale – that’s the guy I pointed out to you,’ said Ashley to Jono.
‘Timothée Chalamet?’
‘Him, yes. He was here earlier,’ Ashley said to Rosie. ‘You have adatewith him?’
