The Fall of a Coin

THE MANAGERESS OF the hotel took them up two flights of stairs to their room. There was no lift. There was no central heating either and, though April, it was very cold.

‘A bit small, isn’t it?’ said Nina Armadale.

‘It’s a double room and I’m afraid it’s all we had left.’

‘I suppose I’ll have to be thankful it hasn’t got a double bed,’ said Nina.

Her husband winced at that, which pleased her. She went over to the window and looked down into a narrow alley bounded by brick walls. The cathedral clock struck five. Nina imagined what that would be like chiming every hour throughout the night, and maybe every quarter as well, and was glad she had brought her sleeping pills.

The manageress was still making excuses for the lack of accommodation. ‘You see, there’s this big wedding in the cathedral tomorrow. Sir William Tarrant’s daughter. There’ll be five hundred guests and most of them are putting up in the town.’

‘We’re going to it,’ said James Armadale. ‘That’s why we’re here.’

‘Then you’ll appreciate the problem. Now the bathroom’s just down the passage, turn right and it’s the third door on the left. Dinner at seven thirty and breakfast from eight till nine. Oh, and I’d better show Mrs Armadale how to work the gas fire.’

‘Don’t bother,’ said Nina, enraged. ‘I can work a gas fire.’ She was struggling with the wardrobe door which at first wouldn’t open, and when opened refused to close.

The manageress watched her, apparently decided it was hopeless to assist, and said to James, ‘I really meant about working the gas meter. There’s a coin-in-the-slot meter – it takes five pence pieces – and we really find it the best way for guests to manage.’

James squatted on the floor beside her and studied the grey metal box. It was an old-fashioned gas meter with brass fittings of the kind he hadn’t seen since he had been a student living in a furnished room. A gauge with a red arrow marker indicated the amount of gas paid for, and, at present it showed empty.

‘You turn this handle to the left, insert your coin in the slot, and then turn to the right . . .’ Nina had stopped listening, James was glad to see. Perhaps when the inevitable quarrel started – as it would as soon as the woman had gone – it would turn upon the awfulness of going to this wedding for which he could hardly be blamed, instead of the squalid arrangements of the hotel for which he could. ‘. . . turn it to the right and wait until you hear the coin fall. Is that clear?’ James said it was quite clear, thanks very much, and immediately the manageress had left the room Nina, who wasted no time, said:

‘Can you tell me one good reason why we couldn’t have come here tomorrow?’

‘I could tell you several,’ said James, resigning himself, ‘but the principal one is that I didn’t fancy driving a hundred and fifty miles in a morning coat and top hat.’