by Fanny Blake
‘Jess never said.’ She was used to Dan taking off on short business trips if one of the hotels needed him, but was still surprised not to remember this one.
He must have noticed her puzzlement and tried to reassure her. ‘I was only there for a few hours. We threw some ideas around together but no decisions were made. Jess only contacted me a few weeks ago about possibly taking things on a stage.’ He moved the drawings so she could see them more easily. ‘Look. She’s asked me to take you through them.’
Nonetheless, Rose disliked the idea that she had been excluded from these talks. Jess had said nothing, probably thinking the time was all wrong, but both she and Daniel knew perfectly well how attached Rose was to her childhood home. Although she hadn’t been directly involved in the business since they’d moved away to London, fifteen-odd years ago, she still cared deeply about what happened to the place.
‘I hadn’t appreciated that you’d gone quite so far,’ she said, trying to translate the lines and measurements in front of her into a recognisable building, at the same time feeling as if the ground had been swept from under her feet.
‘These are only rough. Nothing’s been decided yet.’
‘I realise that,’ she said, rather more sharply than she’d intended. ‘You’ll need my go-ahead now Daniel’s not here to give his.’
He raised his head from the drawings, leaving his finger on the point he was about to explain. ‘Please don’t be upset. I only came here because Jess asked me to. I think she meant all this as a surprise. A good one.’
‘I’m sorry. That was very rude of me.’ She put her hands on the table and leaned on them. ‘But I’m afraid you’ll have to explain what it all means.’
They stood so close their arms were almost touching. Next to hers, his hands on the plans were long-fingered, nails cut straight across. With a pang, she realised that his lemony aftershave reminded her of Daniel. She moved away from him. As he talked, fleshing out the description that Jess had given her in the café, providing the detail that made it real, excitement stirred in Rose’s gut.
‘To give you the best idea, I’ve brought this 3D image.’ He opened his laptop to call up a stylised version of the back of the hotel she knew so well, but transformed. Under a clear sky stretched a blue pool, cabin-style changing rooms along one side, full-length glass doors completing an extension to the dining room. Retracted sideways, they brought the outside in, or vice versa, Rose was never sure which. Instead of the dark cosiness of before, the room was light and bright. On its right, the snug had been enlarged and given a glass roof and similar glass doors. On its left, the old bar remained untouched. Looking towards the sea, two palm trees were the only things that interrupted the otherwise all-too-familiar view down to the cliffs, across the wide sandy beach and along to the next headland.
‘It looks like the South of France.’
‘Pity I can’t guarantee the sun.’ He laughed.
‘That’s a disappointment.’ As she laughed too, some of the awkwardness between them dissipated.
While she considered the drawings, letting Simon explain the finer detail, she couldn’t stop the memories. As children, she and Terry had roamed that coastline, flying kites on the beach, hiding on the steep gorse-lined coast path, exploring the smugglers’ caves despite their parents’ warnings, taking out the family Wayfarer. They had raced down the hotel corridors, stolen food from the kitchen when the cook’s back was turned, and been babysat by an array of young waitresses and barmen while their parents held court in the hotel bar or went out for the evening. These images were overlaid by those belonging to her and Daniel: long sunny summer walks, escaping her parents, who by then rarely left the building; nights in cold bedrooms, threadbare sheets and towels, the empty dining room and bar, the smell of damp, the sound of arguing, the few loyal guests. But how Daniel had loved the embarrassing shambles of her family life, compared to the rigorous Catholic confines of his own. He’d fallen in love with the countryside, the clifftop setting of Trevarrick and the long cliff path walks, branching off through deep woodland, hidden coves and river estuaries. His real affection for the place was what made him hurl himself headlong into the business of restoring and recreating the hotel after her parents’ deaths.
Listening to Simon, Rose warmed to him, and was reminded again of Daniel, of his love for the place, of how hard he had worked on the original renovations, sometimes coming to bed after a fourteen-hour day. Nothing deflected his passion. Working together, they had achieved his vision, while Terry oversaw the costs and kept well clear of any of the physical involvement, agreeing that they should be equal partners given the amount of work Daniel was putting in. As they’d laboured, so Rose had grown to love the place again. In the months since Daniel’s death, she’d forgotten just how much. And now she was being presented with an opportunity to take Trevarrick on to another level.
As Simon talked, she realised that selling the place was out of the question. Whatever the pressure put on her by Terry and Anna, she couldn’t. More than that, being involved in the refurbishment, even at arm’s length, would give her a project, something to occupy her mind. Perhaps that was why Jess had been so keen for her to see the plans. Not just so that she would have a home and a job, but in order to share something with her mother. How clever of Dan to have found an architect so sympathetic to the project, and how much cleverer of Jess to have thought to contact him again. The initial awkwardness between them had quickly vanished. Simon had a natural ease that she liked, a sense of humour too. He listened to her ideas and suggested compromises they might all accept without giving the impression of being either offended or patronising.
‘If, and it’s a big if,’ she said, imagining the objections that would be raised by Anna and Terry. ‘If we were to go ahead, what sort of timescale are you thinking of?’
He rubbed his nose with a finger, thoughtful. ‘Depends how much you want to upset the summer business. Normally this sort of renovation would be carried out in early spring or autumn, but we could probably get the dining room extension and snug completed by the end of June if I can get the right builders.’
‘That quickly?’ Rose hadn’t imagined the whole thing taking off quite so fast.
‘Well, as I say, you could wait until the season’s over. It’s up to you.’ He hesitated. ‘Of course, Daniel would have had the whole thing under way by now.’
She glanced at him, surprised by his sudden insensitivity. After his concern at the memorial, she had the impression that he was a more thoughtful man than that. In the background, the orchestra played on.
‘No doubt,’ she agreed crisply. ‘But the situation’s more complicated now. I have to consult with the rest of the family.’
‘Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . .’ A blush crept upwards over his face, making him look like a schoolboy who’d been caught flouting the rules. Flustered, he began rolling up the drawings.
‘I know you didn’t. Look,’ she said, feeling sorry for him. He was only expressing his enthusiasm for the project. She could hardly blame him for that. ‘I love the designs. You, Dan and Jess have obviously thought through every aspect of this between you. But I can’t give you the go-ahead just like that. I wish I could.’
As he stretched an elastic band over the paper roll, it snapped and flew across the room. Neither of them went to retrieve it. ‘I completely understand. Whenever you’re ready.’ Simon was focused on rerolling the paper.
‘Can you leave those with me? I’d like to think it all over.’
‘Of course.’ He handed her the roll with a smile. ‘If you need me to answer any questions, just call. I could come by and pick them up. In fact, I wonder whether . . .’ He stopped, as the blush began to return to his cheeks. ‘No, sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it.’
‘Forget what?’ She wanted Simon to leave, but not before he finished his sentence.
He shrugged on his coat and knotted his scarf, screwing up his face as if he wished he
hadn’t spoken.
‘Please,’ she entreated, more curious than ever.
‘I’ve a couple of tickets to the Royal Opera House on Tuesday. Good ones,’ he said, looking uncomfortable as he put on one glove then took it off again. ‘A long-standing date that’s been broken. I wondered . . .’ He shook his head, his complexion fiery with embarrassment.
‘Yes?’ He couldn’t be about to invite her to go with him, not on the strength of two short meetings, not when he knew how recently she’d been widowed.
‘I’m sure you wouldn’t. This is so presumptuous of me, and I know very last-minute, but I wondered whether you’d like to come with me? I don’t know many people in London yet who I could ask. I just thought . . . Well, you obviously like opera . . .’ He nodded towards the sound system and her CDs in the corner of the worktop. ‘But I can see that it’s a silly idea.’ He flicked his hand as if he was waving it away.
But was it such a silly idea? They had already established that they had one thing in common: a love of Trevarrick. Hearing him talk about the place had excited her. She’d enjoyed the last hour of his company. Besides, what was there to stop her going to an opera with him? She’d admitted to Eve how much she wanted to be invited out again. He knew the rest of her family. Well, Jess anyway. Did that make it better? Or worse? However difficult she found it, she was going to have to get used to going out without Daniel. And the Royal Opera House. Who else would make her such an extravagant offer?
‘I’d love to go with you.’ The words were out before she’d realised.
‘You would?’ Her acceptance clearly surprised him as much as his question had surprised her.
‘Why not? It’s not as if my diary’s packed with things to do these days. Yes,’ she said firmly, dismissing her immediate regret at being so hasty. ‘I would.’
Later that evening, home from her class, she phoned Eve. Having listened, outraged, to the whole Rufus and Amy scenario and then, quietly alarmed, to Eve’s story of her latest encounter with Will, she saw a gap in the conversation. She dropped Simon’s invitation straight into it. Eve’s reaction was gratifying.
‘You haven’t said yes?’ She sounded disbelieving but excited at the same time. ‘He could be anyone. You know, the proverbial mad axe murderer . . . Anyone.’
‘But he’s not,’ objected Rose, refusing to admit to any slight uneasiness. ‘He’s a perfectly nice man and a friend of Dan and Jess. And he loves Trevarrick. What more could I ask for? Besides, I feel sorry for him. He’s obviously still grieving for his father, and he doesn’t know many people here. We’ll be company for one another.’
‘Isn’t that a bit over the top?’ Eve still sounded doubtful. ‘A father’s hardly the same as a husband, but OK, you’ve got things in common. Go. Enjoy it. But I want every detail of what happens. What are you going to wear? Not black. Promise me.’
‘I’m not promising anything of the sort.’ Rose had been thinking of the black dress that Dan had liked her in. She would wear it for him. Sometimes Eve’s imagination ran ahead of her. This wasn’t a date, just two people keeping one another company . . . although she couldn’t deny Simon was attractive. But he was at least ten years younger than her. Though that wasn’t enough of a difference to make anything like that impossible or embarrassing. Amused, despite herself, she dragged her mind back to the conversation.
They hung up, having promised to meet up the following weekend. Rose ate in front of the TV, watching one of the Frozen Planet DVDs. But she couldn’t concentrate. The photography and commentary only provided a background for her thoughts. Apart from the anxiety about her own future, so much else was preoccupying her. Eve gave the impression she didn’t want to talk about Terry. But Rose worried about her brother, about them. His job had always defined him and the redundancy had clearly hit him hard. As much as she loved Eve, she was uneasy about her renewed contact with Will. There was an excitement in Eve’s voice she hadn’t heard for a long time that contradicted her protestations that they wouldn’t meet again. Should Rose have stopped him from attending the memorial? But what would she have said? She had wanted to give everyone who had ever known Daniel the opportunity to be there, and judging from the condolences book, they had been. Refusing Will would only have been awkward and confrontational, neither of which she wanted.
And what about Jess and Anna? Their relationship depended on her decision over what happened to the business. But she had just decided to keep Trevarrick when the offer elicited by Terry from Madison Gadding was for all three hotels.
She could hear Daniel’s voice saying, ‘I don’t want Adam having a share of the business, Rosie. That mustn’t happen.’
She lifted the phone again, checking her watch as she did so. It was late, but Eve would still be up, Terry too. He had always been a night owl: a habit drummed into them as the children of Trevarrick, a hotel that when their parents ran it only came alive at night. That was when they put aside any problems, dressed up and emerged to play mine host. If she weren’t ‘resting’, their mother would hold court behind the bar, the scent of Nina Ricci’s L’Air du Temps undercut by cigarette smoke and gin. Meantime, their father, bluff in his tweeds, red-faced and never without a small cheap cigar, would prop up the corner of the bar, regaling their customers with bad jokes (where Terry got his sense of humour?). When they were too old for babysitters, Rose and Terry went ignored, having free run of the place until they were so tired they’d drop to sleep in an armchair in the old snug or under a table in a camp they’d made. Sometimes they’d remain there all night, unless one of the staff found them and took them up to bed.
Terry answered immediately.
‘It’s Rose. I’m sorry to call again so late, but I think we should talk.’
‘We should.’ He wouldn’t sound so relieved when she told him her decision, but for the first time since Daniel had died, she could see her way. Simon’s visit had triggered something in her. At last she saw a simple method of resolving matters and taking the first step forward into her future. Hard as it was to accept, Daniel wasn’t coming back.
‘I know what I want to do.’
‘You do?’ Concern had crept into his voice. ‘Well, I’m not exactly busy. I could come up to town whenever you like. The sooner the better, in fact.’
‘Well then, how about tomorrow? I’m teaching till four, so come over late afternoon sometime.’
‘I’ll be there at five.’
For the first time in months, Rose went to bed feeling that at last, thanks to Simon, she was resuming some sort of control over her life. That was a lot to owe someone.
19
Terry looked terrible, rumpled, as if he hadn’t slept for weeks. His shirt was untucked. A smear of something – his lunch? – decorated the left lapel of his jacket. No tie. Eve was obviously too concerned about her defecting authors and shoring up her business to have noticed that her husband was facing the world in such a state. The big sister in Rose reached out to pick at the stain. He snatched the jacket from her. ‘Leave it, Rose. Please.’
Corrected, Rose took him through to the kitchen, where she’d laid out Simon’s plans. She gestured towards the table. ‘Have a look at these, while I make some coffee.’
‘What are they?’ he asked with almost total lack of interest. ‘I thought we were going to talk about your decision.’ The emphasis he put on ‘your’ spoke of the real resentment he felt at her owning two thirds of the business. He couldn’t have expected Dan to leave his third split equally between the two of them, could he? The thought struck her for the first time.
However, unable to question Dan’s will, Rose could only do her best by those he had left behind, making sure she was as fair as possible. ‘I’ll explain in a sec, but they’re for Trevarrick.’
He frowned. ‘You mean you’ve decided not to sell?’
‘I’ve decided not to sell Trevarrick. When you look at the plans, I hope you’ll see why.’ She busied herself in the kitchen, getting out mugs, filling the kettl
e.
‘I’m not interested in any plans.’ He sounded quite adamant.
‘I’m only interested in closing the deal with Madison Gadding as soon as possible.’
Rose was shocked by his vehemence. She stopped what she was doing and leaned against the counter, not understanding. ‘But why? What’s so important that can’t wait? I see why Anna wants me to sell. She’s found a property and thinks I’ll release some money to her. But presumably you’ve got a pay-off, you’ll find another job, and in the meantime, Eve’s still earning. Things can’t be that bad financially.’ She crossed to the table. ‘Look. The place will be transformed again.’
‘I said I wasn’t interested.’ He slapped his hand on the table, making Rose recoil. Terry rarely stood up for himself against her. When it came to decisions, their relationship had always worked on the basis of her being the older, the wiser, the one in charge. She determined to stand her ground, despite disliking the turn the conversation had taken.
‘What’s your problem?’ she challenged, ‘I’m only asking you to look at some plans. I’m trying to explain my decision to you, hoping for your backing. Is asking you to listen too much to ask?’
‘In this instance . . . yes.’ He tugged sharply at his cuff, exposing one of the silver cufflinks inherited from their father, who in turn had inherited them from his.
‘We must keep what we can in the family.’ She must have been about sixteen when their father had said that to her. She had all but forgotten, but now the memory of them sitting in the otherwise empty bar together was suddenly quite clear. Her mother had gone upstairs for one of her lie-downs, leaving her father with a pile of paperwork. They were sitting by the window, with everything spread out in front of them, weighted down by her cup of coffee and his glass of whisky. Trying to get on top of their rocky finances, he’d confided in her. Her mother wanted them to move out and move on, but he couldn’t see a future for them anywhere else. He was probably right. By then, they were rooted firmly in Cornwall and he wanted to spend his final years there. And now she was in a similar position. Trevarrick had meant too much to the two of them, and now to Jess as well.
