Three Men On Tour: 26

We snuck down to reception via the stairs. The lift doors were in full view of the entrance to the conference room, so we couldn’t come down that way, but the stairs exited to one side of the lobby – safe from suspicious eyes. The most likely place to be keeping the conference packs was behind the check in desk, ready to hand out when attendees arrived. We had a plan. The first part involved getting to the reception desk. The jungle of pot plants and ferns was going to work to our advantage here. The entrance to the conference room jutted off from the main lobby, so that it was hidden from the reception desk. If we could use the wall of plants to screen us, we had only a few feet to cross before we would be at the desk and out of the gaze of dangerously clued up bouncers.

We peered round the corner. Across the way we could see the reception desk. At the moment, only one person was on it, her cheerful smile replaced by a bored scowl while there were no customers in sight to meet and greet. I wondered how long it took before the perma-grin became an instinct and she would start conducting arguments with her boyfriend with perfect teeth permanently on display.

“Right, here goes phase one,“ said Harry. He took out his mobile and began to dial. On reception, the phone began to ring. The receiver was lifted and the frown was flipped to happy.

“Good afternoon, reception, how may I help you?“

“Hello, this is room 857. Sorry to bother you but I do need your help. You see, I’ve got a bit of an emergency.“

“What seems to be the problem, sir?“

“I’ve gone and locked myself out of my room. I thought I had my keycard with me but it turns out it was my library card.“

It was amazing. You could visibly see the receptionist straining not to sigh. On the phone, she continued without a wobble.

“I’m afraid all of our porters are busy right now sir, but if you come down to reception I can cancel your old card and sort you out with a new one.“

“Ah, that’s a bit of a problem. You see, I was about to have a bath so when I went into the hallway I was rather…well, underdressed shall we say.“

The receptionist paused. You could see her weighing up the options. On the one hand, she really didn’t want to go to all the trouble of hiking up to the eighth floor herself. On the other hand, this was the kind of story you could dine out on for years, and gentlemen locked out in their underwear tend to be big tippers out of sheer embarrassment. Harry decided to sweeten the mix. “Oh, and I think I left the bath running.“

“I’ll be right up,“ said the receptionist.

We waited until the lift doors were closed and the receptionist was speeding up towards the eighth floor, then we headed out across the foyer. It was just as well no-one was watching – we each had our own method of looking nonchalant and they all made us even more suspicious than if we had been wearing striped jerseys and carrying swag bags. I, obviously, chose the least awkward method – striding straight ahead, my arms swinging stiffly by my sides like a toy soldier. George, on the other hand, moved in small bursts of speed, hovering by one pot plant or another, studying it intently before looking around covertly and darting for the next available fern. Harry was the worst. He strolled along for all the world like a landed gent on a stroll in the country, nodding to imaginary passers by and looking anywhere but his destination. I’m sure if it hadn’t been for a glance from me he would have started whistling. How we reached the reception desk without being spotted I will never know, but reach it we did. When we arrived, Harry darted behind the desk while George and I kept watch. It didn’t take long.

“Found them,“ Harry exclaimed.

I whipped my head round and shot him daggers.

“Sorry,“ said Harry in a much quieter voice. He quickly looked inside the packs. “These’ll do. Come on.“