Hotel Babylon by Imogen Edwards-Jones

Author:Imogen Edwards-Jones
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780425201350
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2004-12-06T23:00:00+00:00

7pm – 8pm

By the time I get back to reception Liz has already got her coat on. She is pottering around between the front desk and the back office, humming with excitement at her impending departure.

‘Oh, there you are.’ She smiles. It’s amazing how going home can improve someone’s mood. ‘Two cleaners have phoned in sick.’

‘What, already?’ I ask.

‘Yup,’ she says, stapling some paper together. ‘Oh, I got you these out of the office drawer.’ She hands me a packet of Pro Plus pills. ‘It doesn’t look like there are that many left,’ she says. ‘Half a packet. D’you think that might do the trick? Or do you want to send Jez out to get some more?’

‘No,’ I say, taking four out of the packet. Tm sure I’ll manage.’

‘Are you sure you should be taking that many at once?’ she asks.

‘I don’t see how else I’m going to get through tonight.’

‘Are you sure?’ she asks again, sounding concerned.

‘Yeah, well,’ I say, knocking them back.

‘See you tomorrow.’

‘Yeah. And you’ll have a new girl, Michelle’s replacement.’

‘Mm,’ she says, not sounding too keen. ‘I wonder what she’ll be like.’

‘Attractive, I’ve heard,’ I say, just to wind her up.

‘Oh, good.’ She smiles, looking ever so thrilled.

‘Have a good evening.’

‘Will do.’

‘Night,’ she says as she walks past Tony.

‘Night,’ he replies.

Reception is beginning to take on the appearance of a railway terminus. There are people walking into the bar, people coming in for dinner, and guests leaving the hotel for meetings, meals or drinks somewhere else. A couple of gents in cashmere coats with heavy leather briefcases are walking through to the bar, while other groups of what look like fashion people keep turning up fashionably late for the cocktails and canapes do in I suppose what could loosely be termed our ballroom. Well, it’s a room big enough for a ball, and we do tend actually to host a couple in there in the run-up to Christmas. But really it’s a large room with some moulding on the ceiling, some gold lamps on the wall, a grand piano and a whole load of gilt catering chairs.

For some reason or another, it is popular and often booked, especially in the evenings. We hold about two or three events in there a week. And although it is catered for by the same kitchen as the rest of the hotel, the waiting staff are entirely different. They are made up of casuals. Casuals who are even more casual than the staff who actually work in the hotel, which is saying something. They are paid the minimum wage, get no tips, have no regular working pattern and can be called up to work anything from a six-day week to a no-day week at a moment’s notice. As a result the turnover is high, and it’s the sort of job that only attracts foreign students, Australians on their gap year, illegals and first-generation immigrants with few language skills and little choice. The casuals are not really considered part of the rest of the hotel.

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