You Can't See Me by Eva Bjorg Aegisdottir

Author:Eva Bjorg Aegisdottir [Ægisdóttir, Eva Björg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-05T16:00:00+00:00

Irma

Hotel Employee

I’m not going to kick up a fuss. Of course not. I’ve worked in enough bars and clubs to know that men aren’t always themselves. They become the drugs they’re taking or the alcohol they’re drinking. It sounds as if I’m inventing excuses, and maybe I am. I suppose I’ve grown too used to pushy men, the type who want their own way, whatever the consequences. I’ve become inured to their behaviour. It doesn’t bother me any longer.

I step out of the shower, wrap a towel round my hair and inspect my right arm. The bruise is turning blue, and I can make out the shape of a hand. It’s like a brand, the imprint of the four fingers clearly visible and, on the inside of my arm, the thumb.

As I contemplate the marks on my body I wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t been disturbed by a noise in the corridor. Hákon stopped and looked round, loosening his grip on my arm as he did so, and I seized the opportunity to tear myself free and get the hell out of there.

Naturally, he didn’t follow me. Dark deeds belong in small, enclosed spaces, don’t they? But I could hear his laughter as I fled down the corridor. Laughter that implied we’d only been messing about; that it had been nothing but a joke.

It seems there are black sheep in every family, even those who appear perfect on the surface.

❅

I report for duty before the clock has struck twelve, and Edda smiles, pleased. She likes me, I can tell. But then what’s not to like? I’m punctual, conscientious, good-tempered and I go out of my way to do more than is required of me. An exemplary member of staff in every way.

‘Ah, Irma,’ Edda says. ‘Would you mind checking if they need more soap and so on in the rooms? The beds have been made, but you know how it is.’ She leans closer, lowering her voice. ‘One just can’t trust that things are done well enough.’

Edda gives me a conspiratorial smile. She knows we’re alike in this at least: we have the same exacting standards. We care about the guests and want the hotel to be more than just a place to stay. People’s time here should be an experience. Everything has to be perfect, and we go out of our way to achieve that. There are almost no lengths we wouldn’t be prepared to go to in search of perfection.

‘Of course,’ I say, and hurry off.

One of the most interesting aspects of my job is going into the rooms when there are guests staying in them. It’s unbelievable how many people leave personal items lying around, though they know the staff will be coming in. So far I’ve come across quite a few sex aids, in addition to dirty underwear, condoms, drugs and even a wig. I always feel as if I’m looking through someone’s window or reading their diary. It’s so personal.

I have to

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