‘Not even today for the anniversary?’ Chelsea asked.
If only! Alison picked up the day’s visitor schedule and scanned down the names, the words blurring on the paper as tears pooled in her eyes. She would not cry. She was stronger than that. Besides, she’d already cried a reservoir that morning so there couldn’t possibly be any water left in her body.
‘He gave me nothing,’ she admitted. ‘Not even a hug.’
‘Do you think he forgot?’ Sarah asked.
Alison shook her head. ‘He’ll mention it tonight. He’s always running late on a morning.’ The thing was, in the early days, it was because he couldn’t resist her, pulling her back to bed or joining her in the shower. Not anymore. What had happened to them? Where had the intimacy gone? Together since they were seventeen, the first six years had been so good. As for the last four… But every couple had rough patches, didn’t they? That’s all this was.
‘I bet he’ll have a surprise planned for when you get home,’ Sarah said. ‘How many years are you celebrating?’
Tears under control, Alison looked up from the paperwork. She took in Sarah’s eager smile and her stomach clenched. Another person who didn’t know. She’d have to tell her. ‘It’s not that kind of anniversary. It’s actually—’
‘I’d like to check out. Room 387.’ A heavily pregnant woman accompanied by two nursery-aged girls stood in front of the reception desk.
‘I won’t be a moment.’ Alison tapped a few keys to retrieve the guest’s bill. ‘Was everything all right with your stay, Mrs Hanson?’
‘It was lovely, thanks.’
‘Ask her,’ said the older child, tugging on her mum’s skirt.
Mrs Hanson frowned at her daughter. ‘Shh!’
‘Ask her!’
‘Shhhhh!’
‘Is there something I can help with?’ Alison asked as she printed the bill.
‘No! It’s nothing. She’s being silly.’
‘I am not,’ cried the child. ‘Ask her.’
‘No.’
Leaning over the desk, Alison smiled at the girl. ‘I’m here to help. You can ask me anything, sweetheart.’
‘Honestly, it’s nothing.’ Mrs Hanson tried to put her hand across her daughter’s mouth, but the girl wriggled from her grasp.
And then it was too late.
The child looked up at Alison, all blonde curls, chubby cheeks, and innocent big blue eyes. ‘Is your baby a boy or a girl?’
Alison’s stomach churned as though on a spin cycle. Smile. Must keep smiling.
‘Olivia!’ her mum cried. She turned to Alison, clearly mortified. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s fine.’ With shaking hands, Alison passed her the bill. ‘If you’d like to—’
A MasterCard was thrust into her hand.
‘You haven’t said,’ Olivia wailed. ‘Mummy’s having a baby too and I want a brother this time. If she has a girl and you have a boy, can you swap?’
Mrs Hanson jabbed her PIN into the card machine then stared at it, snatching the card the second the transaction completed. ‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered again.
Alison plastered a smile on her face and turned to Olivia. ‘I’m not having a baby.’
Olivia’s face scrunched up with confusion. ‘But you have a big tummy like my mummy’s.’
The heat in Alison’s cheeks cranked up another notch and she felt sweat pooling under her arms. ‘Yes, I know, but that’s because I’m… I’m just fat.’
Alison had never seen a pregnant woman, two kids, and a large suitcase move so fast.
Grabbing her blazer, she indicated to Chelsea that she was nipping to the loo. She escaped from behind the reception area and dashed across the palatial lobby, through the empty bar, and into the ladies’.
Moments later, she slumped down onto the seat in the furthest cubicle, her head between her hands, gulping in the bleach-tainted air. It wasn’t the first time it had happened. A teenager had given her his seat on the bus. She’d smiled and thanked him, thinking he was being chivalrous, until he’d said, ‘My sister’s having a baby next month. When’s yours due?’ She hadn’t found the strength to correct him so had mumbled, ‘The month after,’ and prayed the conversation was over.
She took a chocolate bar out of her blazer pocket. Hands shaking and stomach gurgling, she ripped open the wrapper, the intense aroma of cocoa soothing her. Biting off a large chunk, she closed her eyes as the chocolate melted on her tongue, easing the tension in her shoulders. She eagerly took another bite, then another, until she’d devoured the whole bar, barely tasting anything after that first divine mouthful.
Staring at the empty wrapper, Alison shook her head. How many times had she done that? Sat in the same cubicle, surrounded by opulence, secretly scoffing chocolate? She glanced down at her uniform, stretched across her body. Dave was so right. No wonder.
When Alison emerged from her hideout, her heart raced when she spotted she wasn’t alone. ‘Sarah! I didn’t hear you come in.’
Sarah rose from the deep-rose chaise longue. ‘I wanted to check you were okay.’
‘Me? Why wouldn’t I be?’ she responded innocently. ‘Too much tea this morning.’ She moved to the sink and squeezed luxury lavender soap onto her hands, cursing that she hadn’t flushed the toilet.
‘But you haven’t been to the loo, have you? You’ve been eating chocolate.’
Alison stopped mid-rinse. ‘How…?’
‘Because it’s exactly what I’d have done. Exactly what I did do. Frequently.’
‘Yeah, right. Because you’re so enormous.’
‘I used to be,’ Sarah declared proudly.
Alison turned back to the marble sink and finished rinsing her hands while trying to find the right words. She didn’t want to offend Sarah but the last time somebody had said, ‘I used to be fat’ to her, it turned out that they’d gained half a stone and ‘ballooned’ from a size eight to a ten. Hardly the ‘obese’ category into which Alison fell on those hideous height-weight charts. She turned off the taps and wiped her hands on a sumptuous cream guest towel.
‘I lost five stone,’ Sarah said.
No! Alison spun around to face Sarah. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘How?’ She tossed the towel into the laundry basket.
‘I dumped my useless boyfriend. I was a comfort eater so I needed to get rid of what was causing me discomfort. With Jason gone, I didn’t need to turn to chocolate, cake or kebabs so the weight came off. And I go running on the beach. Never thought I’d get into that.’ She smiled gently. ‘Are you a comfort eater?’
Alison shrugged. ‘I think I’m just an eater. Full stop.’
‘Do you want to lose weight?’
Alison shrugged again. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘If you’re happy, then don’t change a thing. Personally, I think you’re amazing exactly as you are.’ Sarah paused and cocked her head to one side. ‘But people who are happy don’t usually hide in the toilets, troughing chocolate. Remember, I’ve been there, done that. I know it doesn’t help.’
‘It’s