Performing

Part 3

Gary stepped out of the lift and into the side hallway of the hotel. The spa was cloistered away in the bowels of the building and the only way down was a cramped lift. At odds, Gary thought, with the relative opulence he’d paid to experience over the weekend. Still, he’d had enough of scented oils and faux Greek statues. Besides, the vegetarian menu they had down there was almost offensive to a butcher. Lemongrass and kale can only sustain a human so far, Gary mused. Perhaps that’s why there were so many borderline emaciated women in this place, living off hopes, dreams and gluten free ideals – for a price.

Gary emerged into the main atrium and over to the reception desk. Through the atrium windows the roar of St Pancras station was muffled into the busy chatter of relaxed elite. The staff were superb in this place, clean and clear on everything. In minutes he had reclined into an armchair in the lounge with a pen and pad.

Gary started writing a list.

He’d agreed to settle an argument – for his price.

Delirium or desperation, either way he was going to see about earning properly for a change. Perhaps then he wouldn’t have to work all the time, then things wouldn’t be so difficult when he got back of an evening. Perhaps.

He scrawled columns and details on the page.

Regardless, he had to get ready for dinner, it was going to be important and he needed to clear his mind. That’s why he was in the spa in the first place. Clarity. He didn’t intend to end up doing a transaction with a couple of toffs, but they asked about his work and where he was from and one thing led to another. Done deal. But now wasn’t the time to be dwelling on something that was only a potential deal to improve things. Tonight he needed to make a good impression all over again.

One column for quantity at the end, very important that.

Karen had been out today to see Trish. She’d been out all day. Shopping, drinking, seeing the sights. Spending. Mustn’t focus on that. They’d have had fun. A couple of drinks. Be lighter. She wouldn’t have dwelt on things. She’d be relaxed, just like he was. He could fix this. If she helped. He could put it back together and make it work.

He put an estimated price on at the end. They hadn’t asked for that but details are important and money details doubly so. He ruminated on that. How the other half live.

Gary folded the page up, took it to the desk and asked the concierge to put it in the messages for room 161.