The Hotel at Honeymoon Station : A totally heartwarming romance about new beginnings

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘Well I’m glad about the good-cause bit,’ Emma said with a wry smile, ‘because I’ve never yet won a raffle in my life.’

  When Emma got home a few hours later she was smiling. Properly smiling, like she felt she hadn’t done for months, like she might never be able to stop. Tia had been surprisingly good company: funny, lively, interesting, with an enthusiasm for everything that was irresistibly infectious. At school she’d been the party girl – if it had been an American teen movie she’d have been the glamorous and blessed cheerleader with a pristine house in the suburbs, a quarterback boyfriend and an invite to every soiree going – and though that girl was still in evidence, this older Tia no longer seemed as spoilt and entitled as Emma had often considered her. But since high school Tia’s family had lost their business and perhaps that had been a humbling experience, or perhaps the life lessons had been closer to home, courtesy of her difficult divorce. Whatever the reasons, Emma liked this Tia much more than she’d imagined she would.

  The house was empty, even though it was gone six, and Emma supposed Dougie must have run into friends at the fishing pool and decided to stay and share a few beers. While the idea irked her slightly, there was a part of her that was relieved too. Lately, every day around Dougie felt like a battle zone, a silent, simmering, resentful sort of conflict where she found herself constantly biting her lip, holding back on the things she really wanted to say in order to keep some kind of peace. But that peace was hard-won and wasn’t healthy – not for her or the relationship – and it was exhausting. It had started to feel like a boil that needed lancing, and if she didn’t do something about it soon the poison would spread into everything else in her life.

  She’d ended up eating a second bowl of ice cream at the parlour with Tia, feeling like a naughty toddler sneaking cheeky seconds, and the sugar had gone to her head. Now she had the beginnings of a headache and she certainly wasn’t in the mood for the evening meal she’d planned. With Dougie out and likely to be for some time, there really didn’t seem much point in cooking for one anyway. Instead, she made a cup of green tea in an attempt to cleanse her system and curled up on the sofa with a book she’d been trying to get through. Less than an hour later, she was fast asleep.

  The sound of the front door slamming woke her. The tea she’d made was on the side table, barely touched and stone cold. Her book had fallen onto the floor, pages splayed and creased, the bookmark lying nearby so that her place had been lost; she cursed herself for being so careless with it. But what demanded her attention most of all was looking at the clock, seeing it had gone eleven, and noting that she now had a crick in her neck from sleeping in an awkward position, and that Dougie’s vague eyes and slurred greeting meant he was very definitely drunk.

  She hated this. She didn’t want to nag. She didn’t want to start a row either, but she had a right to know where he’d been and she had a right to expect him to spend time willingly with her occasionally… didn’t she? However, she pushed all that from her mind and made an effort to be bright and neutral. It was late, and she was too tired and groggy to start any kind of meaningful discussion, and Dougie wouldn’t be able to recall it in the morning anyway; he never did, so what was the point?

  ‘Good day?’ she asked casually.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Catch anything?’

  ‘A bit, yeah.’

  ‘Who did you see?’

  ‘Chas and Willard.’

  ‘Oh. They stayed out with you then?’

  ‘Yeah, they got some cans.’

  ‘Right…’

  Either he’d forgotten her afternoon plans to meet Tia or he didn’t really care. He didn’t ask about it and Emma didn’t feel like volunteering any information now anyway.

  ‘I’m going up,’ Dougie announced, staggering towards the stairs.

  She listened to his heavy steps as he lumbered up to bed. It was strange how you could live with someone and yet still feel like the loneliest person in the world.

  Chapter Six

  Margot was on the warpath. Ostensibly it was because someone had moved her pile of magazines (she claimed), but mainly it was because she’d been forced to do some actual work. One of the drivers had asked to take extended paternity leave and Margot had smiled serenely and told him she’d sort it, before asking Emma to do it once he’d left the office. But now she was apoplectic with rage because Emma had then been nabbed by Mr Burnbury to do something more urgent and the job had been left to Margot after all. Emma had secretly been glad about the intervention. Even though the new task would probably be a much shittier one, it was worth it just to see Margot pull her weight for a change.

  ‘Damn… Where’s the number for the… I know it’s here… Why is there no proper filing in this office… Now I’m in a bloody virtual queue, whatever one of those is… This information makes absolutely no sense…’

  As Margot became more and more frustrated and a little frantic, Emma almost felt sorry for her. Almost. But Margot got paid more than her and most of the time did very little to deserve that money other than delegate all her tasks to her assistant. Emma probably could have sorted it in ten minutes too, but she really would deserve her doormat status if she gave in and took on the task. Instead, she worked steadily through a list of permits that needed to be renewed and kept her head down so as not to attract Margot’s irked attention.

  When Emma’s mobile started to ring, she hurried to retrieve it from her desk drawer and was surprised to see that the caller was Tia. If it had been anyone else she might have left the phone to ring out and then called back when the office was less fraught, but she was intrigued that Tia was calling during office hours.

  ‘Oh, Emma!’ Tia squeaked. ‘I had to phone you first because you were there!’

  ‘Hi,’ Emma said in a low voice, giving the phone a slightly bewildered smile.

  ‘I won the bloody car!’ Tia cried. ‘Can you believe it?’

  Emma’s mouth fell open. ‘You mean the raffle prize?’

  ‘Isn’t it completely mad? You must be my lucky charm! If I enter a competition from now on you have to be there!’

  ‘Wow!’ Emma said, trying very hard not to think about how many more tickets than Tia she’d bought and how it was typical of her lousy luck that it hadn’t made a scrap of difference. ‘That’s amazing. Did they just call you?’

  ‘Yes! I still can’t believe it!’

  ‘Neither can I,’ Emma said, perhaps a little too frankly. ‘It’s a lovely car.’

  ‘I know. But does it sound very ungrateful if I say I don’t think I’ll keep it?’

  ‘What are you going to do with it?’

  ‘Sell it, I expect. If I’m allowed to – sometimes you don’t know with these prizes, do you? Do you want to buy it? Knockdown price for lucky charms,’ she added with a laugh.

  ‘Even at knockdown it would probably still be too pricey for me.’

  ‘It was just a thought. You bought tickets too.’

  ‘Oh, I wasn’t bothered about the car – it was just to support a good cause, you know.’

  ‘Well this car’s going to support a good cause when I sell it; I’m going to put the money in my pot for Honeymoon Station. It’ll make a huge difference towards my target, and as I can’t find a partner I could do with winning a few more to raise the rest… Fancy entering some more raffles with me?’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m the lucky charm you think I am. I suspect it might have been all you.’ Emma smiled. It was hard to be resentful when Tia was so excited and, really, when she thought about it, more deserving too. She’d had a tough time lately and she’d do a lot of good with that money. If Emma had won the car it would have been nice but it wouldn’t have made a huge difference to her life. Tia, on the other hand… it had the potential to take her a step closer to her dreams and that had to be worth cheering for.

  ‘It feels like a sign,’ Tia said, ‘it really does. First I bump into you and we get on so well and then this raffle… I think my luc
k is about to change and everything is going to come good. Thank you!’

  ‘What are you thanking me for?’ Emma said with a little laugh.

  ‘For bringing my change of luck.’

  ‘I think you’ve done it all by yourself. Being determined, having a goal – it makes your luck eventually, just like it did for my sister. Whatever you’re working towards will come good because you’ll make it happen, whatever tries to get in your way.’

  ‘It’s sweet of you to say it like that. There are plenty of others with less faith in me.’

  ‘You don’t have to listen to them. Anyway, it has nothing to do with faith. Anyone who talks to you for five minutes can see you’re destined to do amazing things.’

  ‘Oh, Emma…’

  Tia started to reply but a grunt from the desk across the room distracted Emma. She looked up to see Margot glowering at her.

  ‘I’m so sorry to cut you off, Tia,’ Emma said, ‘but can I phone you later? I’m kind of busy at work right now.’

  ‘Oh God, you should have said!’

  ‘No… I’m glad you called. It’s lovely to hear your news and I’m happy you phoned to tell me first. It’s brilliant, honestly, and I’m thrilled for you. We’ll talk more later if you like.’

  ‘That sounds lovely. I’ll speak to you soon then.’

  ‘You will. Bye, Tia.’

  ‘Bye, lucky charm!’

  Emma was still grinning as she ended the call. Margot definitely wasn’t.

  Let her frown, Emma thought, miserable old trout. One personal call during work hours wouldn’t trouble Margot’s daily record and Emma wasn’t about to apologise for it.

  Once a week Emma took her dad shopping. He didn’t need taking but she liked to see that he was buying the right things to eat, and, strangely, they really only ever had easy conversation when engaged in another activity at the same time, so it was always a good time to chat. Her dad didn’t cope well with soul-baring and any talk of emotions made him uncomfortable, unless he was so engrossed in something else that he didn’t realise any soul-baring was going on.

  ‘Did Elise call yesterday?’ Emma pulled a trolley from the line and followed him into the store. ‘She phoned me and said she was going to speak to you afterwards.’

  ‘She did. Sounds like she’s settling in alright.’

  ‘She sounds really happy – made loads of friends already.’

  Her dad nodded. ‘She’s always been good at making friends. Folks are drawn to her like ducks to water.’

  ‘She sounds like she loves the place she’s living in. What’s it called again?’

  ‘Don’t ask me to pronounce it! Icelandic is worse than Welsh, and that’s saying something!’

  Emma nodded vaguely as they made their way to the fresh fruit and vegetables. ‘I know. She says all these names to me and I can’t repeat them to anyone who asks because I can’t get my tongue around them. Makes me a bit embarrassed – English people really are rubbish at other languages.’

  ‘That’s because most of the time we don’t need them – especially ones so complicated.’

  ‘I suppose English seems complicated to people in other countries.’

  ‘Ah, but a good many of them can speak it.’

  ‘That’s worse, Dad,’ Emma said with a wry smile. ‘That means we’re just too lazy to make any effort.’

  ‘Probably. Lucky for us we don’t need to.’

  ‘You need carrots?’

  Her dad nodded and Emma tossed a bag into the trolley.

  ‘So what have you been doing this week?’ he asked. ‘Managing to keep your mind off Elise going? You two were always thick as thieves; you must be missing her.’

  ‘Like mad, but I’m OK. She’s happy – that’s all I’m bothered about. I’ve just been keeping busy with the usual… work and home.’

  Her dad sniffed. ‘Kicked that waster out yet?’

  ‘Dad…’

  He held up his hand as a gesture of surrender. ‘OK, I won’t talk about him.’

  ‘Good… Actually, I did meet up with a girl from school.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ he asked vaguely, inspecting a savoy cabbage.

  ‘Tia Capaldi… I bet you don’t remember her.’

  ‘Her dad owned that motorcycle showroom; flash bugger. How could I forget them?’

  ‘Tia’s not flash – not now anyway. She’s actually lovely; we got on really well. She’s had a tough time going through a divorce and her dad went bankrupt.’

  ‘Hmm. I did wonder why the showroom had gone – thought it had moved out of town. Not so flash now then.’

  ‘I expect bankruptcy humbles you a bit,’ Emma agreed.

  ‘So what’s she doing now?’

  ‘That’s just it. She’s looking for a new start and – you’ll never guess – we bought raffle tickets when we were together and she won a car!’

  Her dad looked unimpressed as he chose a head of broccoli. ‘Lucky always makes luck,’ he said flatly.

  Emma held up a bag of parsnips and he nodded that they were acceptable before she put them into the trolley. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Luck’s like magnets. If you have it you always attract more.’

  ‘Don’t magnets repel each other?’

  ‘Alright, magnets and metal then,’ he said tartly. ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘Maybe luck just goes to the people who deserve it.’

  He huffed. ‘Not in my experience. You deserve it but you don’t win cars. How do you explain that? Like I said, lucky makes luck. The likes of you and me have never had any – that’s why we don’t ever get any.’

  ‘So what you’re saying is you’re born lucky or you’re not, and you can’t do anything to change that?’

  ‘This conversation is getting daft…’ He wandered off to a refrigerated shelf and Emma followed with the trolley. ‘Where are those grapes I like…?’

  ‘Here.’ Emma pulled a box from the shelves and handed them to him. He peered over his glasses to check the label. ‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘Tia’s selling the car to get money for this property she wants to turn into a hotel. It’s in Dorset. It looks like it could be beautiful if it gets done.’

  ‘So she’s lucky and daft then.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s daft.’

  ‘You wouldn’t; too much like your mum. It’s the sort of thing she would have tried to talk me into doing if she’d still been with us. Retirement project, she’d have said. Like retirement is for speeding up, not slowing down.’

  ‘Is it?’ Emma asked doubtfully.

  She’d been eight years old when they’d lost her mum, but she didn’t recall that side of her at all. She’d been kind and sweet and caring and all the other things a young girl wanted from her mother, but a dreamer, a schemer and planner…? Emma hadn’t seen that. To Emma she was just the woman who tucked her in at night, who laughed with her at playtime and fed her lovely dinners and comforted her when she was sad. Perhaps she just hadn’t been old enough to know her mother in a way that revealed that other part of her nature.

  ‘So you don’t think it’s a good idea?’ Emma asked, not even knowing why she suddenly needed her father’s approval for a plan that wasn’t even hers.

  ‘I didn’t say that. I don’t know anything about it so I can’t say either way.’ He looked askance at her over a bag of Granny Smith apples. ‘Why are you asking me? What does it matter what I think?’

  ‘I’m just curious, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m sure it’s a winner for the person who knows what they’re doing. Hotel in Dorset… goldmine, I should imagine. How much is it costing her?’

  ‘I’m not sure. The building’s going up for auction soon. The guide price isn’t bad, but Tia thinks it will go for a lot more than that.’

  ‘I’m sure it will. Sounds like she’s thinking on her feet when it comes to money. Perhaps she’s got her dad’s business head – although, if she does plough on with it, I hope it’s better than her dad’s.’
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  ‘I think her dad was just a victim of unfortunate circumstances.’

  ‘It does sound like a better bet than his motorbikes.’

  Emma put a bag of baby spinach in the trolley.

  ‘I don’t want spinach,’ he said.

  ‘Yes you do.’

  ‘I don’t like it.’

  ‘You said that last time, but you ate it on sandwiches and said you preferred it to lettuce.’

  ‘Did I? Was that spinach?’

  ‘Yes, Dad.’

  ‘Oh, shows what I know.’

  ‘What did you think you were eating?’

  He shrugged. ‘Some leaves.’

  She laughed. ‘Spinach is some leaves!’

  He flashed her a sheepish grin.

  ‘How’s work?’ he asked a moment later.

  ‘Horrible, as usual.’

  ‘You say that every week. Why don’t you get something else?’

  ‘I don’t know… I feel like everything else will be just as bad. I think I’m bored working in HR but I don’t know what else I’m qualified to do.’

  ‘You could retrain; you’re still young enough.’

  ‘I could but I don’t know what I want to retrain in. Nothing I see appeals to me.’

  ‘So you don’t fancy volcano-chasing like your sister?’

  Emma smiled. ‘Can you even chase a volcano? Where’s it going?’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘No… I’ll let Elise take that one – there’s only room for one nutter in any family.’

  ‘Something more down to earth then?’

  ‘Hmm. I suppose I’ll know the right thing when it comes along and bops me on the nose.’

  ‘That’s exactly why it won’t. You need to take charge. Letting things drift… that’s how you ended up where you are now.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad,’ she said wryly. ‘I’m not on the streets; just in a job I’m a bit fed up of. It’s better than some.’

  ‘It is, but if it’s not what you want to do… I think that’s enough fresh stuff. I liked those sausages last week… I wonder if they’re still on offer.’