Tired because of an interrupted night’s sleep as well as being in an unfamiliar bed, I decided to take the stairs down to the hotel foyer to try and wake up.
Roy was sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs facing the bank of lifts so didn’t see me approach.
“Morning,” I said, causing him to jump.
“Morning, Simon.”
I wasn’t in the mood for small talk, so asked, “Ready to go up?” I gestured to the lifts. Because of Roy’s arthritic knees I hadn’t suggested taking the stairs.
We got in the lift and I pushed the button for the third floor. My stomach always grew a bit queasy when I used a lift. I wasn’t claustrophobic or anything, but the thought of being trapped in a metal box for a few hours sent a shiver down my spine. Mind you, if the rescuer was a hunky fireman, well, that might pu
