By the time the three girls managed to check back into the Langham in London, Willow felt as though she were a nanny in charge of two sullen children: Ana was feeling very sorry for herself and the general state of her life; Mia hadn\u2019t resolved anything concrete with Johnny – who had flown back to Australia a few days earlier – so was in a particularly foul mood too. The two of them had spent the day sniping at anyone and everyone – air hostesses, taxi drivers, the concierge, even each other – and Willow was looking forward to a long bath and having some time – and space – to herself.<\/p>\n
The suite they\u2019d booked last time – but didn\u2019t really get to use – had already been taken by someone else, so they stayed in a smaller suite, equally lavish but with slightly less space. They could have arranged for separate rooms, but Willow wanted the three of them to stay together, at least for a little while, until she was sure that Ana was doing a bit better.<\/p>\n
As soon as they got into the room, Ana and Mia plonked themselves on either ends of the couch, sighing simultaneously. Mia kicked off her shoes and tucked her toes underneath her as Ana picked up the remote, flicking aimlessly through channels until she came across a movie. George Clooney\u2019s face filled the screen and Mia and Ana both let out a little sigh.<\/p>\n
\u201cI truly believe,\u201d Ana said, \u201cthat our lives would be one hundred percent better if we could just meet George Clooney.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh yes,\u201d Mia said. \u201cI agree.\u201d<\/p>\n
Willow smiled and rolled her eyes. She had never understood the George obsession that most females tended to have. \u201cDo you guys mind if I head out for a little walk?\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
She took the grunted response to be in the affirmative and walked out of the room in search of some piece and quiet.<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
It was raining outside and so Willow decided to say within the hotel. The concierge had pointed her in the direction of a small, secluded bar, that was reserved for special guests. Willow took that to mean guests who were paying stupid amounts of money for their accommodation.<\/p>\n
As it turned out, the bar was perfect.\u00a0 It was at the top of the hotel, affording an incredible view of the twinkling city below, and was empty aside from a barman cleaning glasses and a guy softly playing the piano. Willow ordered a glass of champagne and took a seat next to the window, getting lost in the maze of alleys and lights, wishing that Robert could have been there to share it with her. She took a sip the champagne, the bubbles popping lightly on her tongue as the cool liquid slid down her throat. It should have been a happy moment, but she was overwhelmed by a sadness so exhausting that all she could do was give into it. She been bottling it up for the last few days, trying to keep a happy face on when she was around the others. Out of nowhere, tears sprang to her eyes and she started crying. They weren\u2019t uncontrollable sobs, but delicate hiccups of tears. She cried for Ana\u2019s divorce and Mia\u2019s relationship that seemed destined for failure. And she cried for Robert, her beautiful man who she would never ever see again. She barely even noticed when the pianist stopped playing mid song and walked over to her.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m no concert pianist, but I didn\u2019t think it was that bad,\u201d a kindly American voice said.<\/p>\n
Willow smiled thinly. She was not in the mood for small talk. \u201cThe playing is beautiful. Please don\u2019t stop.\u201d And please leave me alone.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cWell if it\u2019s not the playing, then is it something else I can help with?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo thanks. I\u2019d just like to be on my own.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow about another drink?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh for gods sake,\u201d Willow said angrily. \u201cCan\u2019t a girl cry over her dead boyfriend in peace?\u201d She immediately regretted shouting at the man. He was just the piano player, after all. She softened. \u201cI\u2019m sorry. That was very rude of me. I apologise.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo need to apologise,\u201d he said. \u201cI shouldn\u2019t be sticking my nose in other people\u2019s business, but when I see a beautiful girl crying\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Through her tears,Willow gave him a scathing look.<\/p>\n He laughed. \u201cOK, I get it. At least let me buy you a drink though. To apologise. My girlfriend would never forgive me if I didn\u2019t try to make amends after offending someone.\u201d<\/p>\n Willow sighed. \u201cOh, OK them. A champagne please.\u201d<\/p>\n A bottle of French champagne appeared at the table minutes later. \u201cThey don\u2019t do the really good stuff by the glass,\u201d the man said, shrugging. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to finish the whole thing.\u201d<\/p>\n Willow laughed and shook her head. \u201cYou may as well join me then,\u201d she said. \u201cI couldn\u2019t bear to see good champagne go to waste.\u201d<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n As it turned out, the man was a very good listener and sat silently while Willow recounted – what felt like – her entire life story. It was so good to talk to someone about it though, someone who didn\u2019t know her or Ana or Mia or Robert or Johnny or Tom. Someone who would just listen and not offer advice.<\/p>\n \u201cI thought that leaving Melbourne would help me forget,\u201d she said after she had been through the entire sage. \u201cBut it hasn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n The man took a thoughtful sip of his champagne. \u201cWhat would you do to make yourself feel better if you were at home?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf I was at home?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere must be something that you do when you\u2019re feeling sad. Something that you can only do at home. For example, I like to get into my oldest pyjamas and climb into bed with a huge stack of newspapers and a plate of toast and not worry about getting crumbs on the sheets.\u201d<\/p>\n Willow grinned. \u201cWell, if I was at home, I\u2019d bake. I\u2019d keep baking until there was nothing left to bake. Until I\u2019d used every single cup of flour and gram of butter in the house and every single surface was covered in cakes!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBaking, eh?\u201d The man smiled at her. \u201cWait here.\u201d<\/p>\n He sprang up and spoke quietly to the barman who made a phone call and then nodded at the gentleman.<\/p>\n \u201cFollow me,\u201d the man said, waking back towards Willow.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere are we going?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe kitchen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe kitchen?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know it\u2019s not your own one, but it might help a little,\u201d he said, weaving through a maze of corridors. \u201cAh-ha. Here we are.\u201d<\/p>\n Another man, dressed in an impeccable black suit, pushed open a door and ushered them into the biggest, shiniest, most beautiful kitchen Willow had ever seen.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s all yours until the breakfast shift, Mr Clooney,\u201d the man in the impeccable suit said as he walked back out.<\/p>\n Willow turned around sharply and looked at the man in front of her carefully. Tall, dark, handsome, well dressed, American\u2026 \u201cI didn\u2019t, but it\u2019s George.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRight,\u201d Willow said, feeling like a prize idiot. \u201cGeorge. As in, George Clooney.\u201d<\/p>\n He shrugged, smiling, and pulled on a white apron. \u201cTell me what to do, Chef.\u201d<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n Even Willow wouldn\u2019t have been able to bake her way through all the flour and butter that this kitchen had to offer, but she did her best. Hours later, the counters were lined with croissant, cakes, pies and breads. As it turned out, George had proven to be a very good assistant, even licking the mixing bowls clean when she’d made up the batter. Willow hummed happily as she washed up the last of the crockery and put it away.<\/p>\n George yawned. \u201cWell, not even my jet lag is going to keep me awake for much longer, Chef. I think I might turn in.\u201d<\/p>\n Willow looked at the clock. It was nearly time for the breakfast crew to start preparing anyway.<\/p>\n \u201cI might take some of these though,\u201d he said, filling a container with fresh croissant and danish. He winked and gave Willow a small wave as he walked towards the door.<\/p>\n \u201cGeorge?\u201d<\/p>\n He turned.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you,\u201d she said sincerely.<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n Willow opened the door to her hotel room quietly. She was smiling to herself and for the first time in weeks she felt completely at peace. The TV was still on in the background, both the girls asleep on either ends of the couch.<\/p>\n Ana sat up groggily as she heard the door close.\u201cWhatimeisit?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s still early,\u201d Willow whispered, so as not to wake Mia. \u201cGo back to sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n Ana stretched and rubbed her eyes. She peered at Willow. \u201cYou look different,\u201d she said. \u201cHappy.\u201d<\/p>\n Willow grinned. \u201cYou were right,\u201d she said. \u201cAll I needed to do was meet George Clooney.\u201d<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" By the time the three girls managed to check back into the Langham in London, Willow felt as though she were a nanny in charge of two sullen children: Ana was feeling very sorry for herself and the general state of her life; Mia hadn\u2019t resolved anything concrete with Johnny – who had flown back […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_s2mail":"yes"},"categories":[218],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1025"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1025"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1025\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1026,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1025\/revisions\/1026"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1025"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1025"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1025"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n\u201cErrr\u2026 What did you say your name was?\u201d she asked slowly.<\/p>\n