The Secret To Happiness. Jessica Redland

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      ‘Morning, Ali! Morning, Chelsea!’

      Alison couldn’t see her, but she knew that Sarah the florist was hidden behind the enormous floral arrangement travelling past the reception desk of Whitsborough Bay’s only five-star establishment, The Ramparts Hotel.

      ‘Morning, Sarah!’ they both called.

      Alison inhaled the fresh, heady scent. ‘Ooh, they’re gorgeous.’

      ‘They weigh a ton.’ Sarah placed the vivid orange, purple and cream arrangement on the end of the granite desk then rolled her head and shoulders. ‘I swear I get a better workout from my contract here than I would from any gym membership.’

      ‘I’ve never set foot in one and wouldn’t want to,’ Alison said. ‘How I maintain this sylph-like figure is a complete mystery.’ She ran her hands down her curves and shimmied, making Sarah and Chelsea laugh.

      Watching Sarah reposition a couple of violet Calla Lilies, Alison sighed. ‘I love flowers. Shame the only place I get to enjoy them is at work.’

      Sarah looked up. ‘Dave doesn’t buy you flowers?’

      ‘Not even supermarket ones.’

      ‘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. СКАЧАТЬ