Open-handed by Chris Binchy

Author:Chris Binchy
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780141889788
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2008-08-25T04:00:00+00:00

34

Beneath the flowers and polish, the heavy perfume of the Sunday women with their red-faced, blazered husbands, the coffee from the espresso machine and the ozone freshness from the water-feature, there was something else. Marcin met Tommy coming towards him across the lobby. ‘What is that?’ Marcin asked.

‘What’s what?’

‘That smell.’

‘What smell?’

At three o’clock that morning a woman from some film company came in. Marcin nodded at her as she passed the desk.

‘Was there a fire or something?’ she asked him.

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Why?’

‘When you come in. The air. You know?’

She was French. A little old, maybe, but still, if she asked him up he’d go. He smiled. ‘Yes. Yes. Maybe,’ he said. Vagueness seemed like the best approach. The woman paused for a second, then went on.

At six in the morning, the first puffy-faced suited men and women began to check out. Marcin watched them as they walked out of the lift into the lobby, their faces puzzled at first, a half-second before they realized it was bad.

‘What is that?’ the first guy asked the night manager.

‘It’s the sea, I think. When it’s hot it gets quite strong.’

‘I’ll say. It’s awful. I don’t know how you can work in it.’

The manager shrugged. ‘You get used to it, I suppose.’

‘I don’t think I would.’ After he’d signed, he went outside to wait for a taxi. He came back in a moment later.

‘It’s not the sea. It’s this place.’

‘Really?’ the manager said. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Well, if it was the sea, the smell would be worse outside. But it’s not. The air outside is beautiful. It’s just this place that stinks.’

‘Oh,’ the manager said. A flicker of sadness crossed his face.

‘Sorry,’ the guy said. ‘It’s nothing personal. I just thought you should know.’

‘Yes, indeed. Thank you.’ The man walked back out and got into his taxi.

‘Nothing personal,’ the manager said, watching him go. ‘You wanker.’

The operations manager came on at half six. His face crumpled as he walked through the doors. He went straight to the night manager. ‘Where is it coming from?’ he said first, no greeting, nothing.

‘I don’t know. I didn’t realize it was a problem.’

‘How could you not realize it was a problem? The place reeks.’

‘I can’t smell anything.’

‘Then there’s something wrong with you.’

‘I can’t smell it either,’ said Ray. ‘In fairness.’

‘What about you?’ the operations manager said to Marcin.

‘No.’

‘Well, go outside for a minute and come back in.’

The three of them stood under the canopy. The air was warm and still.

‘Another beautiful day,’ Ray said. ‘For us to sleep through.’ He lit a cigarette and offered one to Marcin.

‘That’s not what you’re out here for,’ the operations manager said, through the door. ‘Come on.’

It was obvious when they walked back in. A dirty tang that they had spent the night breathing. They followed the operations manager, who was already striding towards the function rooms.

‘It’s everywhere, this stink, being pumped through the whole place.’

‘It’s just the public areas,’ Ray said.

‘That’s no consolation. We’ve got two hundred delegates at

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