Coffee, Tea, The Gypsy & Me...

by Caroline James

  “Here get a spoon and try this hare. It’s been braised overnight in red wine, probably a bit posh for you.” Sandra pushed an ovenproof dish towards Alf. He picked up the largest spoon he could find.

  “What’s this hard stuff on top?” Alf tapped at the crumble and pushed it aside.

  “It’s pistachio nut crumble. Bet you won’t have tasted that before.”

  He tentatively put the mixture into his mouth.

  “It’s horrible, the meat is grand but you can leave out the crap on top.” He wrinkled his face in disgust.

  Sandra smiled. She hadn’t expected Alf to like her new recipe which would be on the menu this evening, alongside several other new dishes. She was enjoying this kitchen. Unlike the pub there wasn’t a great long menu that required constant attention. At Kirkton House the menu was fixed price and consisted of six choices on each course. Sandra could adapt this daily, depending on available produce. Tonight they were going to experiment with tasters between courses. She had a long day ahead.

  “Come on. Shift yourself! I’ve got work stacked up. Get on your way and give that lazy sod Michael a shout. He’s late.” Sandra wrapped a large slice of pie in greaseproof paper and handed it to Alf. His eyes lit up.

  “You’ll find him in the greenhouse.” Alf buried the pie deep in his waistcoat. “Least ways he was when I came down the yard.”

  Earlier, Alf had part unloaded a trailer of freshly cut logs and stacked them in an outhouse. Jo had promised cash on delivery and he wanted to get a move on. There was a pint of warm beer with his name on at The Templars. No doubt the locals would be asking all about the hotel and he knew he could certainly fuel the gossip.

  * * *

  Jo finished her bedroom checks and took one final look at Room Two. It was perfect. The four-poster bed stood invitingly and a glass chandelier hung from an intricately carved ceiling rose in the centre of the room. Jo loved the Georgian rooms, with their original features and high ceilings and she’d enjoyed furnishing them with large gracious antiques. She gently closed the door. Linda knelt on the stairs and polished the banisters.

  “Smashing meal yesterday Mrs Edmonds. Howard said his steak was the best he’s ever tasted.”

  “Thank you Linda, lets hope tonight’s guests say the same thing.”

  The front door opened and Hattie lumbered in, weighed down with a heavy cloth bag, full of silver and bronze coins.

  “Hope you need all this lot, Mystic Myra on the counter tutted as she counted it all out. She’s a miserable cow that one. Anyone would think she was forced to be there, when we all know she’s knocking off Jim in the sorting office and can’t wait to get her fat bum on his swivel chair at break time.”

  Jo shook her head. She wasn’t going to ask who Mystic Myra was, nor ask after her relationship problems, it was time to open the doors.

  “Stick it in the safe Hattie. You can start by putting the A board out.”

  She watched Hattie trudge across the drive. The board, advertising morning coffee and afternoon tea, was heavy. Jo went to help her.

  “Well this is it - we’re open.” Jo said. She picked up one side and they deposited it on the verge by the road.

  “Hoo Bloody Ray!” Hattie beamed.

  She nodded over to the Templars Pub, where the landlord stood on the doorstep and watched them. He was the only person who’d voiced his objection to Jo opening the hotel. Several charabancs were parked beside the pub and two cob ponies, tethered to the fence, grazed alongside.

  “He’s serving the gypsies.” Hattie said. “I think you need to keep the door locked. Leave it open and you’ll be wiped out.”

  “I will do when the Fair starts” Jo said. “I’m not locking it on our opening day.”

  A car pulled onto the driveway and Jo and Hattie simultaneously turned and collided.

  “I’m having the first one.” Jo whispered as they ran into the hotel.

  The phone rang.

  “Ah, saved by the bell.” Hattie reached reception.

  “Good Morning! Kirkton House Hotel, Harriet speaking. How may I help you today?” Hattie winked as Jo went to greet the couple in reception.

  “Good Morning Sir.”

  “Your sign says you’re serving coffee, could we have coffee for two?”

  “With pleasure, would you like to sit in the lounge by the fire? Or make yourselves comfortable in the conservatory overlooking the garden. The cloakrooms are on the right.” Jo beamed. She was in business!

  * * *

  The morning progressed as customers took coffee and locals called in to wish Jo well. At mid-day, the front door opened and a man stepped into the hallway. He checked his appearance in the mirror and finger-combed thick wavy hair. At six foot, he was good looking and knew it. He saw the brass bell, picked it up and shook it.

  In the kitchen, Jo heard the bell ring.

  She ignored it. Hattie would see to whoever was there.

  Jo watched Sandra tuck a tea towel into the band of her crisp white apron, then spoon thick creamy mixture into a piping bag and expertly pipe the pale, vanilla custard into two dozen glazed mille feuille pastry cases. Jo picked one up and bit into it. The light flaky pastry crumbled like a soft falling snow as she savored the delicious dessert.

  The school bell rang again. Jo wondered where Hattie was and hurried to reception.

  The man saw her approach.

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” Jo said.

  She felt him scrutinize her appearance. He was bloody gorgeous! What a sight she must look, all hot and sweaty from the kitchen…

  “No worries.”

  Jo straightened her shoulders and wished she’d put some lipstick on. She sucked her stomach in and looked him in the eye.

  “Can I help you Sir?”

  “Like school playtime.” He nodded towards the bell.

  “Yes, we certainly hear it when guests give it a good old swing up and down.” Jo was mortified - she sounded like a complete nerd!

  A smile twitched the corners of his handsome mouth, as he examined the flecks of pastry glued to Jo’s cleavage. Flustered, Jo felt a blush tingle up her throat.

  “How can we help you?” She asked again.

  “Have you got a room on Friday?”

  “Erm, I’ll just check.”

  Jo looked into his brilliant blue eyes and felt her knees buckle, her limbs refused to function and she was glued to the spot. She visualised his naked body spread across Room Two’s four poster bed and her blush, like a tidal wave, engulfed her face. Horrified, Jo forced herself to turn and almost ran down the hall to reception, where she thrust the door open and flung herself into the office.

  What the hell was she doing? She brushed the crumbs off her chest and groped for a lipstick, then smoothed the warm melting wax over her lips. The action soothed her. She didn’t need to check the accommodation charts to see if there was a room free next Friday - she knew the whole hotel was empty! She must compose herself!

  Jo stepped back into the hall. The stranger had one hand in the pocket of his well tailored trousers and the other straightened the collar of a pale blue cotton shirt. Jo smelt his aftershave. Polo by Ralph Lauren - utterly divine!

  “Room Two's free.” She blurted out. “Would you like to make a reservation?”

  “Room Two it is.” He smiled.

  “Will that be single or double occupancy?”

  “Single to start.”

  His mischievous eyes bored into her and Jo felt her face burn yet again as he pulled a wad of notes out of his pocket.

  “Doherty’s the name. People call me John.” He smiled. “Stick this on the account.”

  He moved towards her. Jo sensed the warmth of his body like an electric current as he thrust a crisp parcel of notes into her hand. She was rooted to the spot.

  John reached out and placed a finger under her chin, tilted her head upwards and leaned forward, then brushed her lips with a warm kiss.

  “You’ve got flour on your nose.�
�� He whispered.

  Jo was paralysed.

  With a cheeky smile John winked, turned and walked out of the hallway.

  Jo watched him open the front door and slide into the seat of a gleaming red sports car. He roared off across the gravel.

  Dazed, Jo turned to the mirror and touched her fingers to her lips, she traced his kiss on her mouth. Her reflection showed a long white floury streak across her nose and cheek.

  “Fuck!” She exclaimed and dabbed furiously at her face.

  The notes in her hand fell to the floor and lay in a pile at her feet. Jo scrambled to pick them up - it was a fortune!

  She wondered how long John Doherty intended to stay…

  * * *

  “How much?” Hattie was astonished. “A stranger gives you a grand, says his name is John and you stand there like a tit and don’t even get a phone number?”

  Hattie shook her head and tried to hide the smile that threatened to break across her face.

  Jo sat on the office chair and swung nervously from side to side as she tried to explain that she didn’t know how long to reserve Mr. Doherty’s room.

  “He seemed like a very nice gentleman and he was in a hurry. Anyway we’ve got the deposit, so I don’t see that there’s a problem.”

  Jo couldn’t meet Hattie’s eyes. She remembered his kiss and blushed.

  “None of my business I’m sure.” Hattie commented. “It’s just a little odd, when you’ve drilled in reservation procedures to me and Judy for the last month and don’t even get an address. Are you sure he’s not a gypsy? We could have half Fair Hill in here by Saturday night.”

  The thought had crossed Jo’s mind and she prayed that she hadn’t screwed up. She felt a tingle in her stomach as she remembered John.

  “Was he good looking?” Hattie provoked.

  “I couldn’t tell you.” Jo looked away.

  “How old?”

  “I’ve no idea Hattie. He just wanted a room and seemed very pleasant.”

  Jo remembered his cheeky face and lovely blue eyes. He’d smelt absolutely gorgeous and she was having feelings that she’d totally forgotten existed. She thought about running her fingers through the dark curly hair, on his well-toned chest. Her cheeks burned, she kept her head low and fidgeted with a pencil.

  “I detect a crush.” Hattie laughed out loud “Well I never!”

  “Hattie you’re talking rot!” Jo stood up and pushed the chair back. She was bristling with annoyance, both at herself for her lack of control and with Hattie for her persistence.

  The reception door flew open and they both turned as Judy burst in, oblivious to the atmosphere.

  “Who on earth was that man?” Judy exclaimed. “I was taking Old Johnny a cup of tea when I saw a red sports car pull out of the gates. It stopped to wait for the traffic to clear and the driver winked at me. He’s so bloody handsome!” She was very excited. “Oh sorry Mrs. E, I didn’t mean to swear, but it’s not often we get dishy blokes in Ferrari Tesstaros racing round the village. Even Old Johnny looked up from his sweet peas. Blinking amazing car! My Dad dreams of them, but says they cost twice as much as our house.”

  Hattie smiled.

  “Just a cast iron guaranteed booking that Mrs. E here has fortunately managed to secure us for a few days.” Hattie nodded her head. “Lucky she was around eh?”

  * * *

  Jo decided to have a break in the afternoon and spend an hour with Thomas, she needed some fresh air. As she changed into jeans and a fleece, she thought about what she’d done. Was she mad? She’d taken a booking on their first day, from a man who could easily be associated with the Fair and every tinker in the vicinity. There was a good chance trouble lay ahead. Jo sighed. He was rather gorgeous though!

  She peeped around the spare bedroom door and saw Jean having a nap on the bed, George was asleep in his chair by the window. Nipper looked up and thumped her stubby tail. Jo closed the door then took the stairs two at a time. She knocked gently on the playroom door. Ann and Thomas were on the floor playing with a miniature farm. Ann made animal noise and held up a carved figure while Thomas grunted his own version.

  “How are you getting on Ann?”

  “Hello Mrs Edmonds. We had a walk round the village today and I showed him the sheep and cows on Winderwath farm.” Ann stood up. “Are you going for a walk?”

  Jo nodded as she picked Thomas up. She liked Ann and hoped she’d settle in.

  “I’ll have his tea ready when you get back.”

  Ann waved goodbye to Thomas as Jo whisked him down the stairs and out into the fresh air.

  * * *

  Six o’clock. Jo felt nauseous. The walk with Thomas had done nothing to stop her anxiety. The restaurant now had forty-eight covers. She knew they could do more but this was the first night and would really test the staff. Her hand shook as she tried to put her make up on.

  Dear Lord don’t let me make a fool of myself, please may it all go well...

  Jo prayed as she pulled on black tights and promptly laddered them. Fuck! The phone rang. She grabbed it, hooked it under her chin and flung the contents of several draws onto the floor, as she searched for a new pair.

  “Yes.” Jo growled.

  “Everything ok with the hostess-with-the-mostest?” Hattie greeted Jo. “We’re filling up here and I’ve let three more rooms – two of which want dinner, so you’re up to fifty two now.”

  “Oh Jesus Christ Hattie, does the kitchen know? For God’s sake don’t take anymore bookings!”

  She ripped open a new pair of tights.

  “Calm down, it’s all in hand. I’ve got the bookings staggered and the staff are ready.”

  Hattie knew that weeks of hard work and continual preparations were all about to be put to the test. But the biggest test of all was Jo, who was terrified of being out front with the guests, Hattie wondered if Jo was about to lose the plot.

  “What are you putting on?” Hattie asked carefully. “Wear the black and white like we planned, get your slap on and calm down – I’ll be up in a mo.”

  Jo had laddered a second pair of tights. Hattie found her in her underwear, sitting on her bed, as she tried to hold back the tears that threatened. She hung her head when Hattie entered the room.

  “Hey now, come on Jo.” Hattie said gently and sat beside her. “You’re just a bit nervous that’s all.”

  “Oh Hattie, what have I done? Greg’s laughing at me from some Spanish bar. Whatever made me think I could do it? You know I hate putting myself in the spotlight and I feel fat and tired.” Jo held her head in her hands. “If it all goes wrong I’ll be a laughing stock, I can’t believe I’ve got to go and stand in front of Robert and the Atkinson’s, even Pete Parks and his cronies. I just want to run away.”

  Jo was distraught. She seemed to be falling apart.

  Hattie took a deep breath…

  “Ok Love, there’s your dressing gown and there’s a magazine by your bed, you climb in and get your feet up.”

  Hattie held the covers back on the bed.

  “I’ll cope with everyone downstairs. You stay up here and feel sorry for yourself. I’ll just pop next door and let Jean and George know that you are having a bit of a breakdown and then I’ll tell the staff that you won’t be coming down to celebrate opening night. It’s fine. You wallow in self-pity and we’ll get on with what you pay us for.” Hattie held the covers back. “Come on, get in.”

  Jo sat with her head bowed.

  “Of course you could always get a bleedin’ grip of yourself.” Hattie picked up the ruined tights and put them in the bin. “There are people down there, me included, who are really looking forward to tonight.”

  She shook out the cocktail dress and began to tug it over Jo’s head.

  “As I speak, your Mam and Dad are discussing how proud they are of you. And that little lad upstairs needs someone strong to make a good life for him, unlike that dick of a Dad he’s got.”

  Jo stood up and Hattie pulled the dress ove
r her hips.

  “Do you know how bloody lucky you are?” Hattie rambled on. “You’ve got everything – a future and a life in a job that you can do. So get your face on and strut your stuff.”

  She thrust a new pair of tights towards Jo.

  “People down there are paying for the privilege of eating here tonight and you’ve taught us all for weeks on how to run a restaurant. We know it backwards! Now for God’s sake get your arse down there and give us all something to remember!”

  Jo wiped the tears from her face and nodded.

  She picked up the tights and walked to the dressing room.

  “I think I’ve got some lacy hold-ups somewhere, sod the passion killers.” Jo threw the tights to one side. “I might as well go all out. Pour me a large Cointreau, you old battleaxe. Let’s get this show on the road!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Jo walked through the restaurants and looked around anxiously to ensure that they were ready. Everything twinkled and gleamed.

  The panel room was bathed in a soft glow, from a fire in the cast iron grate and in the Rose Room the evening sun cast dancing shadows across the tables. Discreetly placed lights under tall herbaceous plants in the garden, lit up the pale pink and lime-washed walls and as Jo looked out, the sun descended from an ochre sky and slowly faded into the valley beyond the paddock.

  A couple enjoying the sunset strolled hand in hand and stopped by the fountain. The man reached into a pocket and handed his partner a coin. She tossed it on the shimmering water.

  Jo heard a rustle of fabric. Suzy stood in the doorway.

  “You look lovely.” Jo said.

  Suzy wore a dark red silk prom dress with a full skirt and puff sleeves. Her glossy black hair was scooped up and tied with a matching ribbon. She sat down by the piano and selected sheets of music.

  In the conservatory, little candles glowed on the windowsills. Jo flicked a switch and water in the fountain outside, cascaded over rocks and tumbled into the pool below, to the delight of the couple still lost in the magic of the garden.