Owen's suitcase stood outside the bedroom he'd booked for the wedding night.
Lena was coming up the stairs with a box of unused candles when she saw him kneeling beside it. He was trying to fit his shoes into a side pocket which was too small. His tie lay on the carpet.
'You've dropped that,' she said.
He looked up, then at the tie. 'Right.'
She picked it up and held it out. He took it, folded it once and pushed it into the suitcase.
'Are you going?'
'In the morning. They've found me somewhere else to sleep tonight.' He nodded towards the other end of the corridor. 'Someone left early.'
Lena balanced the box against her hip. She didn't ask why he wasn't leaving now. His car would still be where he'd parked it, his family downstairs, his things mixed with Bea's in this room. There were reasons enough to need one more night.
He got up and pulled the handle out. It stuck halfway. He pushed it back, tried again.
'Can I carry something?' Lena asked.
'I've got it.'
He looked through the open door. On the bed sat two small bags and a stack of cards. A white ribbon had been tied round one bag. He bent to take the plain black one.
'Will you ask her to leave my tools at the flat?' he said. Then he shook his head. 'No. I'll ask her.'
Lena nodded.
'It's a mess,' he said.
He meant the suitcase, perhaps, or the room. She didn't try to choose for him.
He walked towards the lift. Lena took the candles to her own room, where Tom's shoes had been moved under the desk. Her blanket was still on the sofa. She put the box on the floor and sat beside it for a moment, looking at the things they would have to take away.
A knock came at the door.
Bea stood outside in socks. She had taken the pins out of her hair; it fell in loose shapes round her face.
'Where's Owen?'
'He's moved rooms. He's just gone down to the lift.'
Bea looked along the corridor. 'I wanted one dance. Could you ask him?'
Lena remembered them tangled together on the promenade yesterday.
'You'll have to ask him yourself.'
Bea's mouth tightened. Then she turned away.
She went down the corridor. Lena stood in the doorway, wishing she had shut it in time not to see what happened next.
Owen came back from the lift without his suitcase. Bea stopped him. They were far enough away that Lena heard only pieces at first, Bea's quieter voice, Owen saying her name.
Then Bea said, 'Just the song. We don't have to be happy.'
He looked at her for a long time.
'I can't,' he said.
'You danced with me yesterday.'
'I know.'
She reached for him. He let her touch his sleeve, but he didn't move closer. She held it for a few seconds, then let go.
'I need my charger,' he said. 'That's why I came back.'
Bea stepped aside. He went past her into the room with the wedding-night bags. Lena retreated into her own room and sat on the sofa. She had seen enough, more than enough.
A few minutes later there was another knock, lighter this time. Bea handed her a packet of drawing pins.
'These were yours.'
'Thank you.'
'I forgot to give them back.'
Lena took them. Bea looked at the box of candles, then at the blanket on the sofa. Her expression changed, but she didn't ask.
'Can you help me take the decorations down tomorrow?' she said.
'Yes.'
'Before people leave with them. They keep asking if they can have things.'
'I'll come down after breakfast.'
Bea nodded, turning away before Lena could say anything else.
Lena set the pins on the windowsill. She'd brought them to keep paper leaves in place. Tomorrow she would pull each one out again, careful of her fingers. That much she could still do.