‘Are Olivia’s stepsons still working there?’ Rose asked. ‘That mean one, more to the point?’

Eliza sometimes wished Rose didn’t remember every story she’d ever heard. Thinking back to that time still made Eliza want to cringe. ‘Yes, they both are. But that was years ago. I’m sure they’ve forgotten about it.’

‘I haven’t,’ Rose said. ‘He’d better be nicer to you this time.’

Alex and Rory weren’t the only family members living in the hotel at present. Olivia had told Eliza that another one had recently moved in. Alex and Rory’s grandmother Celine. Edgar’s first wife’s mother.

‘An in-house almost mother-in-law? Poor Olivia!’ Rose said when Eliza told her. ‘How old is she?’

Somewhere in her eighties, Olivia had said. Scottish-born, but she’d been living in the south of France for years with her third husband. By all accounts, they had a stormy relationship. She’d walked out on him yet again in January and returned home to Scotland. Edgar had promised Celine she’d always be welcome at the Montgomery. ‘Olivia assumed he meant for a holiday, but she’s been there for more than two months now, with no talk of leaving.’

‘How is there room for guests with so many Montgomerys everywhere?’ Rose asked.

The family occupied two private floors in one of the three hotel buildings, Eliza explained. But Olivia was putting Eliza in her own favourite suite in the hotel itself. The Iris.

Rose sighed again. ‘I can’t believe you said you could only go for three weeks.’

‘I can’t stay longer. I need to find a new job. A new flat.’

‘But you’ll be flying all that way just to fly back so soon.’ A pause. ‘Sorry to mention flying.’

Eliza swallowed. ‘I’m trying not to think about it.’

‘On the bright side, you’ll get to sit still for twenty-two hours. Eat hand-delivered food. Watch back-to-back movies. You’ll also be landing into the arms of the two women who love you most in the world, apart from me. It’s like an updated version of your childhood holidays, isn’t it? Even better.’

Rose was right. Olivia had emailed Eliza straight after her call.

I’ll book all your flights and meet you at the airport, of course. Please don’t breathe a word to Maxie. TOP SECRET!! Thank you so much for saying yes. O xxx

There was a voice in the background. Rose’s husband, Harry. Rose spoke briefly to him, then came back on the line. ‘Eliza, I’m so sorry. Harry needs help. The kids have washed the dog in golden syrup. Can you hold on? I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

Eliza was happy to wait. Phone in hand, she walked across to her window. The heavy clouds had gone now. The sky was clear. Below her, the city lights flickered in different colours.

She imagined the scene in Rose’s house. The mess. The noise. The laughter. Rose always showed such love, humour and patience with her three kids. They constantly sought her out, tucking themselves beside her, getting hugs, quick kisses. Harry was hands-on too. On Eliza’s most recent visit she’d seen him quietly reading with one, then playing piggyback with another. After lunch there’d been a rowdy game of backyard cricket with them all. Eliza had always felt so welcome there too. Even if sometimes she had to try hard to hide unexpected pangs of sadness. Not that she would ever have told Rose that. Their friendship meant everything to her.