The night before
 
Igor scratched his head as he tried to work out what to do next. There was no way he could carry Laura up the three flights of stairs to her flat, however light she was. He knew from his own experience, when he first tried marijuana in his younger days, that a good sleep was probably all she needed.

      ‘I be back in minute!’ he told her, before running to the dry store and pulling out his secreted mattress from behind the stack of chairs in the corner. Laura’s need was greater than his, and if he had to sleep on the floor for one night, then so be it.

     As soon as he positioned the mattress on the floor beside her, Laura rolled onto it, curled up in a fetal position, and fell fast asleep…
 

Laura’s eyes slowly opened as she tried to fathom out where she was. The fluffy warmth of her duvet was missing, as was the comfort of the two duck-down pillows that usually supported her head. When her eyes were fully open, the light from the street lamps illuminated her surroundings sufficiently to confirm she was on the floor in the dining room of the Bedford. But how?  A groan escaped her lips as she remembered.
 
     ‘Oh, God…’ she said out loud as the memory of the previous evening flashed through her head like a film clip, each embarrassing scene automatically rewinding itself in glorious technicolour, over and over again.
 
     Shaking her head, as though trying to banish her thoughts, Laura sat up and tried to work out what was cushioning her from the hardness of the carpeted floor. When she at last recognised it as the mattress Karen had lain on in the kitchen after she sprained her ankle, the image of Igor picking her up and frogmarching her through to the dining room flashed up on her mental monitor again. Had the guests noticed that the owner of the hotel they were staying at was literally legless? Another groan escaped her lips at the thought.
 
     A quick check of her watch told her it was half past one. Having no idea what time Igor rescued her, Laura wondered if she’d slept long enough to regain the use of her legs. She rolled onto her side, then, holding onto one of the dining room chairs just in case, she rose to a standing position. Yes, they were working fine.
 
     ‘Thank goodness!’ she exclaimed as she sat down in the chair with a relieved sigh. Apart from the fact she felt mortified at the result of taking two puffs of a joint, Laura couldn’t believe she succumbed to the temptation in the first place. Because she never had the opportunity to try marijuana before, Laura could only assume she tried it because she wanted to fit in, be one of the crowd. Whatever the reason, she certainly wouldn’t be tempted again. Losing the use of her legs was one of the scariest experiences of her life.
 
     Determined to get rid of the evidence of where she had lain in such an embarrassing state, Laura picked up the mattress and made her way through to the kitchen so she could put it in the dry store until it could be returned to the store room on the second floor. After that, she could go to her flat and grab a few hours sleep before coming down to man the reception desk at seven in the morning. What she said to the guests, far less what she would say to Igor, was something she was going to have to play by ear. Thinking on her feet had become second nature to Laura after her years in the hotel trade, so she hoped she would be able to cope should her behaviour be questioned by anyone.
 
     Having negotiated the entry to the kitchen quite easily because of the well-oiled swing door, Laura put the mattress up against the outer wall of the dry store so she could open the door before taking it in there, but just as her hand made contact with the handle, she heard Igor's voice coming from the other side.
 
     ‘You no worry, Nadzia. When I have money, I find place for us. Then we no have to be here in secret no more...’
 
     Laura froze to the spot for a moment, then she grabbed the mattress and took it back to the dining room as quickly and quietly as she could. In a sense, finding out Igor was meeting his lover in secret didn’t surprise her. He didn’t leave until eleven every evening, and he let himself back into the kitchen at six-thirty every morning to cook breakfast. She could well imagine how difficult it was for him to meet up with his girlfriend. Igor had told them at one of their staff meetings that he didn’t like staying at his uncle’s place because he was forced to share a room. On that basis, Laura assumed he couldn’t take her there.
 
     Once back in her flat, Laura poured herself an ice-cold glass of water from the kitchen tap, and drank it while she stared out across the city and tried to work out what to do for the best. Instead of being annoyed at what she thought was Igor’s only duplicity, she was more concerned about the ramifications if there was some kind of confrontation and he walked out. He did the work of two people, and without complaint. They already had several bookings for his ‘Polish’ night in the restaurant, and she didn’t doubt it would be sold out by the time Friday arrived. And what would she have done if he hadn’t rescued her the night before? No, exposing Igor’s secret could be catastrophic. He was part of the ‘team,’ and his work was exemplary. Finding a way to keep him happy and have a place of his own, somewhere he could relax in private with his girlfriend, was a much better idea.
 
     Laura decided to sleep on it. With a bit of luck, she would come up with a plan…