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By the time she was free, it was early evening. She knew she could get buzzed in by anyone, and she’d just slip it under his door if he wasn’t about. Outside his room, however, she could hear muffled voices. She knocked. Jack opened the door in nothing but a towel and face mask, and he stared at her for a moment before he gave a small scream.
‘What are you doing here?’
She held out his ID. ‘Sorry. I picked this up this morning. Good to see you too, Jack.’ Zoe raised an eyebrow.
‘Who’s that, Jack?’ A woman’s voice came from behind the door.
Zoe crossed her arms in front of her and took a deep breath.
‘Jack?’ The same voice, more insistent.
Jack had jammed his foot on the inside of the door, and it was shaking with the effort of the person behind it trying to open it wider. ‘Look, can you just – stop being so silly – can you—’
Zoe switched to her other hip and re-crossed her arms. The door was finally yanked open.
A middle-aged couple stood in Jack’s room, the man stretched out on Jack’s bed reading the Telegraph, the woman, slight and well-dressed, with glossy brown hair, her hand still on the inside door handle.
‘Well, Jack,’ the woman said. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’
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