11. Epilogue

Epilogue

Six years later.

Enzo squinted into the semi-darkness, watching the jemmy as it twisted.

‘Like this Papa?' Rosanna asked, a slight voice amplifying her whisper. She stood on tiptoe to be level with the lock. Her tiny fingers manoeuvred the tools until the mechanism clicked.

‘What in heaven's name do you think you are doing?'

The stern voice cut harsh through the quiet, and Enzo blinked fast as the curtains swished and light flooded the hallway. Mina, hands on hips, glared down at him.

‘Mama, I picked the lock!' Rosanna turned the handle and pushed the door to his office open with a flourish. Mina's scowl deepened.

‘I wasn't expecting you to be finished in the laundry so soon,' he stammered.

‘ I didn't think I'd get caught is not an excuse.' Mina huffed, then scooped Elliot from the floor. Johannes barrelled into her legs and hugged her like he had not seen her in an age, even though she'd been gone barely half an hour.

‘It's a useful skill. What if she loses the keys one day? And there's nothing wrong with having a career to fall back on.'

‘The choices are hotel owner or sneak-thief? Nothing more?' she asked.

He shrugged. ‘It's an unpredictable world.'

Mina jogged Elliot onto her hip and shook her head. ‘You are incorrigible.'

‘And that's why you love me,' he shot back with a grin. He ruffled Rosanna's hair. ‘Kids, go find Grandpa Robert. He's in the dining room, planning a new menu. Last I saw him, he couldn't decide between sponge or orange cakes for tea.'

Rosanna dropped the tools to the ground and tore down the hallway, shouting ‘Caaaaake.' Johannes followed, just as loud, while Elliot, understanding their urgency but perhaps not the meaning, wriggled out of his mother's arms and waddled after them.

‘Don't run,' he called at their retreating backs. ‘This is a hotel, not a racetrack.'

Mina laughed. ‘Save your breath. They don't respect authority. I can't think who they learnt that from.'

Enzo pecked her cheek. She gave him a tired smile, and despite the fatigue, stardust glimmered in her eyes, still right there, where he'd placed it. ‘How are things in the laundry?' he asked.

‘Working well. The new mistress is a little stern, but the girls seem happy. And now the hotel is almost always full, there is no shortage of work. I heard a few of them talking, arranging shifts so that they can watch each other's children. Matron sent over a new girl. She's shy but did confess her condition. She still doesn't know if she wants to keep her baby or leave them with Duke Street. I said either way, we'd help.'

Hand in hand, they strolled the long hallway away from his office. Past the storage and service cupboards, where Harry kept his tools for carrying out hotel maintenance, and by the little room they'd lived in before they had moved into their own place. One day, he'd buy her a house with a room in the sky, but for now, the rented cottage on Honeysuckle Street was cosy enough, and home—the first proper one either of them had known.

In the hotel foyer, late summer sunshine cast lazy shadows of ivy on the mosaic tiles. By the dining room, with the long row of glass that fronted the bustle of the main street, they paused to check the children. Grandpa Robert had hoisted Elliot onto his knee. Rosanna and Johannes sat either side of him, watching with eyes like moons as Robert cut into the sponge, then balanced a slice on his knife as he played at indecision at who should receive theirs first.

‘Will you ever call him Father? Or Papa, like the children call you?' Mina asked.

It hadn't been easy getting to know one another. There were too many memories without one another as an anchor, too many moments where a son needed a father, and a father a son, but they had not been there for one another. The years since their first meeting had been mired with arguments, both petty sniping and those that shook the walls. At other times, they'd settled into easy conversations, usually about business. The one common agreement—the Hempel children were the most miraculous creatures in all of London, even when they weren't—had so far bound them. Perhaps, that was enough.

‘I think Grandpa Robert suits us both,' Enzo replied. He took Mina's hand. ‘Come outside. I've a surprise for you.'

On either side of the entrance, Seamus and Benji stood on ladders, and between them they held a white tablecloth. Its corners flicked with the breeze.

‘We are finally renaming the hotel.' Enzo cupped his hands around his mouth. ‘Drop it!' he called.

The cloth fluttered to the ground. Mina's eyes danced across the gable, where the letters that spelt out Hotel Hempel used to be. Her brow creased, and her mouth thinned with concern. ‘The Stare? I don't think that will set the right tone for guests.'

‘Bloomin' hell, Benji,' he shouted. ‘You've put the letters in the wrong order. A-S-T-E-R. Aster .'

Mina giggled, then went quiet. ‘What does Aster mean?' she asked.

‘It's Latin. It means star . Because no words are off limits for us now, and so that we never forget that all this work is for your dreams. For our dreams.' He pulled her close, wove her fingers between his, and kissed her brow. ‘How are you feeling?'

‘Terrible. So much worse than with the boys. I'm as sick as I was with Rosanna. All these years, I thought it was just the worry, and the smell of Wild Court that made me so ill. Maybe it's a hint that it's a girl.'

She rested her cheek against his shoulder as she sighed into him. He traced her spine, over the long row of fabric covered buttons and rubbed a tight muscle in her neck. She worked so hard. He'd order her a warm bath when they were home, once the children were in bed, and see if he could help work the knots out.

‘I'd forgotten how worried I was in those days, but the illness brought it all back,' she whispered. ‘Thank you. Not just for me, but for taking on Rosanna. And for not treating her any different to the boys. Many a man wouldn't.'

Enzo reached up, stole a star from the sky, and tucked it behind Mina's ear before following it with a kiss. ‘How could I not love her? She brought you to me.'

She brushed a kiss onto his chin, then pointed at a small gap in the breaking clouds. ‘There's another one. I want that one, too.'