If walls could talk, what stories would this old country hotel have to tell?
BY JACQUI COOPER
Megan stood on the steps of the grand country hotel. It was late, and the old building was shrouded in darkness.
“Are you saying you don’t have a room for me?” she asked.
“Because I have the confirmation here. I did try to ring to say I’d be late, but didn’t get an answer.”
“That’s because, as I’ve just explained, the hotel is closed,” the man on the doorstep repeated patiently. “You should have had an email and a refund.”
There had been so many emails in the past few days, mostly from Stephen. Megan had been ignoring them. It was possible she had ignored this one, too.
“But what am I supposed to do?”
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”
He was around her age, dark haired and rather handsome. He was pulling on a jacket as he spoke and the lights were off in the building behind him.
Clearly, he had been leaving.
“Well, can you recommend somewhere else?”
“Sorry. The village pub normally has rooms, but it’s fully booked for a wedding this weekend. I honestly don’t think you’re going to get anywhere local at this time of night.
“In fact, you were lucky to even catch me. This is my parents’ place and they’re on holiday. I was just checking things were locked up for the night.”
The events of the past few days had taken their toll on Megan, and this felt like the last straw. The traffic had been worse than anticipated and then she’d got lost. She was way too tired to drive all the way back home tonight, especially on these deserted country roads.
She felt tears welling up inside her.
The man must have seen her despair.
“Listen, I suppose under the circumstances I can let you stay. Just for one night. But you have to understand that you’ll be completely on your own. My parents aren’t here and I live in the village.”
It was a generous offer, but Megan hesitated. The dark building was gloomy and uninviting, very different from the rosy images on the hotel’s website. But what other option did she have? “Thank you. That’s very kind. Won’t your parents mind?”
“They’d probably mind more if I turned you away at this time of night. I’m Alex, by the way. Come on in.” He threw the door wide and turned on some lights.
“I’m Megan. I promise I’ll look for somewhere else tomorrow.”
Or, more likely, she would just go home. This
