(<<< The morning hadn’t been quite this hectic – back to part 1)
13:00 Lunch. I understand why Eric is fed up with Adelphine’s lentil bake. Everyone is, but who’s going to tell her? (Sorry Finette, I know you’re going to read this, but someone had to say something.)
14:13 “Tell me more,” the travel agent responds to my earlier message. “I’m not sure my clients will agree; they’re old school, with a keen sense of their rank. But if the accommodation is up to their standards…”
14:38 Call from a learned friend on the other side of the world. The orphaned medusa he adopted in the 80’s has developed a sudden urge to spread sweetness and light; he’s concerned that she’s ill. Do I have anything in my library that might explain what’s happening? We discuss a few possibilities, all of which he had already ruled out. I promise to see what I can find in my books, and that I’ll also ask Adelphine.
15:27 “It’s very authentic,” I reply to the agent. It would be; the décor hasn’t changed since we welcomed our first vampire back in 1550 or whenever it was. Her clients sound like a pain in the neck, but of course I keep this considered opinion to myself. We’re a hostel, and we need the income. I send her our flyer, which features a photo of ancient stone walls, rows of five open coffins on either side (all lined with soil from the old country), flaming torches in wall sconces and lit candles guttering in brass chandeliers.
16:00 Call from the bar. Mr Obnoxious has turned up to claim one of the free cocktails. Apparently, he’s perching on a bar stool with a greasy smile, as large as life and twice as ugly. Told the team to serve him and also give him some crisps on the house.
16:14 Call from the bar; someone to see me. Repeated my go-ahead to serve the smug b!st!rd, but that’s not what the call was about.
16:30 Unfamiliar face at the tavern, one of the entertainers from the cabaret adjoining the warehouse. Elegant person, about my “official” age; robust build, short silver wig, grey skirt suit worn with a vintage silk scarf. She was waiting in my favourite booth when I arrived; I joined her, intrigued.
16:40 Voice message from Oakleaf. He found something weird in the garden; says I need to come see.
16:42 Apologised to my visitor, who introduced herself as Cara Bista. She found a hole in the party wall, she explains, and came looking for the owner of the building on the other side. Just to ask if the residents there have children who might be using the opening to slip into her dressing room while she’s away (apparently things have been moving about). They’re no trouble, she adds, but she feels this passage is hardly safe.
16:45 Mirko arrives with a fresh cappuccino for Ms Bista. They seem to know and like each other, though she is clearly surprised to see him here. Mirko’s evenings off may be more colourful than I thought.
16:48 Mr Obnoxious swings by our table on his way out. “Nice to see that the tavern lives up to his billing,” he smirks, adding that he’ll leave a glowing review for our new cocktail to help us weather the social media storm. “Nice to see our customers rallying around us – whoever tried to undermine us online actually did us a favour,” I reply, turning away.
16:52 “Sorry, Ms Bista – it’s been that kind of day.” She replies with a question: “Ça vous dit quelque chose, ce vêtement de poupée? Mes petits visiteurs me l’ont laissé.” I look on while she pulls a small tapered cap from her bag, pretend not to recognise it as manifestly lutin. I know that she knows that I know that she knows that there are no kids involved here, but we leave it at that.
17:24 Found Oakleaf in the warehouse café. He wants to show me his potato patch – more specifically, in the spot where the empty façade crumbled a while back and crushed Minuit’s cable. At the time, he had angled a row of spare tiles against the pitted old wall to protect the blue lifeline, and then proceeded to forget all about it.
17:29 At the potato patch. With planting season approaching, Oakleaf had removed the tiles to have a good go at the weeds, and found an unexpected crop underneath. A tangle of azure filaments had sprouted where the cable’s slashed skin had self-healed at the time, and this strange beard had meshed with a fine fuzz of grey, yet otherwise similar tendrils emerging from the old wall. We just stared at this unexpected find for a while, admiring how the knot of fine hairs was pulsing in unison. Maybe Minuit and Chlurp will know what’s going on, but meanwhile it seems best to just put everything back the way it was.
18:17 Potato patch again, this time with Chlurp, who had nearly finished repairing the damaged wall when I went to fetch him. He’s leaning back on his tail with his arms spread wide, emitting assorted sputters and pestilential odours in quick succession as he gawps at the mystery growth. I take it he’s surprised. Minuit’s standing by to translate, but all he’s getting is excitement. I decide to leave them to it.
18:45 Quick chat at the lutinarium. Frouch opens the talking hatch; there are half a dozen other caps bobbing behind his. Apparently, they’ve taken a shine to Ms Bista. Something about chocolate chip cookies and superior contouring skills. They swear they do understand our rules about keeping a low profile, but remind me that those rules apply only to residents I might be able to throw out.
19:10 Quick sandwich. Adelphine suggests I try slices of leftover lentil bake in a piece of baguette. With enough mustard this combination might be edible, but a line has to be drawn somewhere.
19:30 Made a valiant attempt to sit in on the emergency REVIENS meeting. Should have known better. It took them 15 minutes to decide if they should discuss suitable forest locations first, or if they’d better get the transport arrangements sorted before moving on to trickier matters. Such as the challenge of corralling half a dozen activated werewolves out in the open while keeping them from attacking each other and everyone else.
19:45 Faked a Chlurp crisis when the committee voted on a motion to begin by drawing up a formal mission statement. (Sorry, Ingrid. You know how much I respect the REVIENS team’s dedication and invaluable support – it’s just the process I struggle with.)
20:15 Phone call from the bar. The place is heaving; we’ve never been so busy. They’re short-handed, and the hundred freebies we had allowed are about to run out. “Give me ten minutes,” I reply. “I’ll drum up some help or head over myself. And never mind the limit on freebies – for the rest of the night, every customer who comes in is allowed one complimentary drink if they say the magic word. One per person, mind. Make sure you use the hand stamps to keep track of who’s had one.”
20:24 At the bar, no extra help available at short notice. I grab a spare apron and head into the throng. The ironic new cocktails are a roaring success. They come decorated with a candy cockroach on a stick (candy, not candied – it’s not a real one, but it has long liquorice antennae for dramatic effect) and the punters seem to love pranking each other with these unappealing confections.
22:00 Tavern cellar with Ladrache. He’s taking advantage of the chaos above to spill drinks over customers he dislikes and hide people’s things. A fancy left shoe has gone missing, and someone has lost a keyring featuring a pair of red-soled stilettos. I remind him of our agreement: no scaring the customers, no nicking their stuff. “Drache,” he hisses peevishly, and seconds later I hear the tavern door slam.
23:30 In the alley, as I head home. The bar is still crowded, but I’ve managed to find help. “What happened to the bat vents you meant to put in?” A vampire alights right by my side. “You promised those months ago if we shut up about the drone nets.”
“True,” I concede. “It’s very high on my list. Believe me, it is.”
***
On second thoughts, I really have to edit these notes before sharing them with the team. Someone does have to to keep the peace around here… Minuit, please note that I’m changing the following entries, and please make sure to delete all earlier drafts.
- 13:00 now reads: It seems Eric isn’t a fan of Adelphine’s lentil bake. Don’t take it personally, Finette; I guess he’s just a bit depressed.
- 19:10 now reads: Quick sandwich. Adelphine suggests I try slices of leftover lentil bake in a piece of baguette, but I’ve already enjoyed a generous helping for lunch and wouldn’t want to deprive the fellow residents who appear to have missed our midday meal.
- 19:30 now reads: Joined the REVIENS emergency meeting, which the committee had kindly invited me to attend.
- 19:45 now reads: Unfortunately, was called out of the meeting to deal with another crisis. I take this opportunity to thank the committee for its meticulous dedication, sage advice and hands-on support, and I look forward to its recommendations regarding ceremony logistics. Guidance on werewolf containment and safeguarding in an open air setting would be particularly helpful.