Page 167 - The Midnight Library
P. 167

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                   As  they  walked  over  to  the  li,  Nora  glanced  back  at  the  bar  and  saw  the

                other   band   members.     ‘You   know,   maybe    you’d   like   to   speak   to   the   others
                too?’ she said to Marcelo. ‘ ey remember things I don’t. A lot of things.’
                   Marcelo  smiled  and  shook  his  head  and  delicately  said,  ‘It  works  better
                this way, I feel . . .’

                   ‘Oh, okay,’ she said.
                   Ever y  eye  was  on  them  as  they  waited  for  the  li  to  arrive.  Joanna  leaned
                into Nora.
                   ‘Are you okay?’

                   ‘Of course. Yeah. Why?’
                   ‘I don’t know. It’s just, you seem different tonight.’
                   ‘Different how?’
                   ‘Just . . . different.’

                   As  they  got  in  the  li  Joanna  asked  another  woman,  one  Nora  recognised
                from    the   coach,   to   bring   some   drinks   from   the   bar   –   two   beers   for   the
                podcasters, a sparkling mineral water for Nora and a caipirinha for herself.
                   ‘And bring them up to the suite, Maya.’

                   Maybe I am teetotal in this life, thought Nora, as she  walked out of the  li
                and along the plush salmon-pink carpet to her suite.
                   And    then,   as   she   entered   it,   she   tried   to   act   like   this   was   all   perfectly
                normal.  is  gigantic  room,  leading  to  another  gigantic  room,  leading  to  a

                gigantic  bathroom.  ere  was  a  vast  bouquet  of  flowers  for  her,  with  a  note
                signed by the hotel’s manager.
                   Wow,  she  resisted  saying,  as  she  gazed  around  at  the  lavish  furnishings,
                the  sweeping  floor-to-ceiling  curtains,  the  pristine  white  bed  the  size  of  an

                acre, the T V the size of a small cinema, the  champagne on ice, the  silver tray
                full of ‘Brazilian honey cakes’ as the card informed them.
                   ‘Don’t  suppose  you’ll  be  having  any  of  these,’  said  Joanna,  taking  one  of
                the little delicacies from the tray. ‘Now you’re  on that new plan. Harley said I

                had to keep an eye on you.’
                   Nora  watched  Joanna  bite  into  one  of  the  cakes  and  wondered  how  good
                any  plan  could  be  if  it  didn’t  involve  eating  somet hing  so  clearly  delicious  as
                a  Brazilian  honey  cake.  She  had  no  idea  who  Harley  was,  but  she  knew  she

                didn’t like them.
                   ‘Also  .  .  .  just  so  you  know,  the  fires  are  still  going  on  in  LA  and  they’re
                evacuating  half  of  Calabasas  now,  but  hopefully  it  won’t  get  as  high  as  your
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