“Evening Annie” They’d acknowledged as she flew past.
Jo wondered whether to send the bill on or knock it off the fish account.
“I wouldn’t worry about Jinny’s coat. I got most of the pate off.” Hattie stood up and stretched. “I heard her asking you about Ladies Lunches – are you on for that?”
“I’m surprised Jolly Jinny wants to frequent this establishment with her charity committees, but a litre of Krug probably helped…”
“Don’t forget to have your dress cleaned...”
“Get off home Hattie and get your feet up.” Jo gave Hattie a half push out of the conservatory door.
“Do you feel something cold just there?” Hattie looked at the door. “It’s weird. I’ve noticed it before but thought it was the wind. It’s icy when you stand in that doorway.” She shivered. “You want to get yourself a dog, anyone might be lurking. Get a guard dog - you’ll need it with Fair Week coming up.”
“Get off Hattie, you’re imagining things.” Jo shook her head. Hattie had felt something too! “And as for a dog, I’ve never heard anything so silly. Like I have time for a dog?” Jo shooed Hattie away.
“There’s a phone call for you Mrs E.” Judy stood in the doorway.
“Thanks Judy.” Jo said and left them chatting. She flicked a switch on the board and picked up the receiver.
“Jo Edmonds, can I help you?”
“Room Two all ready for me?” Jo nearly dropped the phone. John Doherty’s voice was rich and suggestive. She tried to compose herself.
“Mr Doherty, thank you for confirming your booking.”
Jo looked up, Hattie stood by the desk. She raised an eyebrow.
“We wondered how long you’d be staying with us.” Christ she felt such an idiot! Jo was sure John was smiling.
“Still got flour on your nose?”
“I’ll put you down for five nights.” Jo felt Hattie scrutinize her every word.
“I’m looking forward to seeing you again.” John teased.
“And we’ll look forward to welcoming you to Kirkton House.” Jo wanted to die. Why did she sound such an idiot when she spoke to him? Hattie’s overbearing presence didn’t help.
“Keep the bed warm for me.” John whispered. Jo turned scarlet. She mumbled goodbye and hung up the phone.
“Glad to see you got all his details this time.” Hattie nodded towards the blank note pad. “You could fry an egg on your face! See yah tomorrow.” She waved as she waltzed off.
“Shite!” Jo stamped her foot and rocked back in the chair. She held her face in her hands in an attempt to stop the burning, but a tingle had begun in her fingers and toes and as she stared at the chart she began to count the days off until Friday.
* * *
George slammed the boot of the overflowing car and climbed in as Nipper bounced up and down on the back seat, she yapped furiously when Jean thrust the car into gear.
Jo stood in the doorway with Thomas balanced on her hip. They waved goodbye to her parents. “Love you Mum, bye Dad! Thank you for everything.”
“Watch out for those gypsies.” George warned. “Promise me you’ll lock every door during the Fair.” George didn’t want to go but Jean had her garden to attend to and the bedding plants needed to go in.
“I promise Dad, I’ll be fine.” Jo assured him.
George fastened his seat belt and closed his eyes as the car lurched forward, mounted the kerb and careered into the road. He held his hands in prayer as they disappeared.
“Will you take Thomas for a nap?” Jo handed her wriggling child to Ann.
* * *
Jo sat in reception and began the rotas, the Fair would start in a few days and she must be prepared. Judy had taken a booking for two double rooms for The Hunts from London. Jo smiled. Harry Hunt and his brother were guests from the pub days and had managed to find Jo at the hotel. She was delighted that the East End boys were staying with her. The brothers had a chain of green grocers and market stalls and always travelled to Butterly for the Fair. No doubt their own origins had Romany roots, but they were East End boys ‘done good’ and knew how to spend their hard earned cash.
Jo wrote over Judy’s pencil booking with ink.
“Morning Mrs E.” Phillip Campbell stood by the desk and courteously removed his hat. Jo looked up and beamed at the retired army Major.
“Hello Mr Campbell, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Sneaked in the back way m’dear, been having a trot around your garden. I say, you’ve got things ship-shape, that lad of yours in the greenhouse looks keen.”
“That’s Michael, our chef; he wants to get fresh herbs on the menu as soon as possible.”
“Very commendable, I like to see initiative.”
Phillip Campbell lived in Eden House, a stunning period property that had been in his family for generations.
“Thanks for looking after our lot at the weekend. Helen sent a thank you.” He handed Jo an envelope.
“A pleasure Mr Campbell, did you have a good party?”
“Marvellous! Such a bonus having extra beds here, there are some sore heads this morning. Not for the lucky buggers staying here though, after your breakfast they’re set for the day! Who came up with the porridge recipe?”
Jo grinned. Hot porridge with whisky was her idea and despite Sandra’s horror that Jo was ‘ruining good oats,’ nearly all the guests had tried and enjoyed it.
“We’ll be back.” Phillip gave Jo a salute and greeted Judy as they passed in the hall.
“Busy on coffees.” Judy called to Jo as she hurried by.
* * *
The morning passed by quickly and in the afternoon Jo took a break to enjoy a brisk walk around the village with Thomas. They stopped at the children’s playground and Jo sat on a swing with Thomas on her knee and gently rocked to and fro. Honey coloured stone houses and quaint cottages nestled around the village green. Jo thought they resembled gingerbread houses with their little windows and colourful doors. Ducks nesting in the reed edged pond, waddled out as a child threw bread on the water. Jo felt happy to be part of the chocolate box village - all she had to do was make a success of it…
Thomas cooed with as they rocked. He’s so like his Dad! Jo thought. Every expression reminded Jo of Greg. Would he have been happy at the hotel with them? Lord of the Manor, King of his own Castle? Jo knew he would’ve loved it. But he’d chosen the Spanish One. Jo felt sad as she watched her son. His father was far away on some sunny beach, laughing with the lithe bikini-clad Estelle, wandering hand in hand as they paddled in warm seas without a care in the world. Jo wondered if she’d ever stop loving him. Does a broken heart ever mend?
She gathered Thomas up and secured him in his buggy. Villagers enjoying Sunday in their gardens waved as she passed. The pub garden was busy and Jo saw Alf sitting at a wooden bench with a pint of ale.
“Havin’ one with us?” He called out.
“Go on then Alf, you’ve twisted my arm but only if I’m buying,” Jo fancied a glass of cider.
“Get away with you.” Alf disappeared into the darkness of the bar.
Jo sat down and rocked Thomas back and forth.
“Cider for the Lady and lemonade with a bag o’pork scratchings for the lad.”
Alf plonked himself beside Jo and opened the bag. He handed Thomas the salty dried skin. Thomas grabbed the stick and Jo winced, she wanted to tear it out of his hand but didn’t want to offend Alf.
“Grew up on them.” Alf nodded at the pork stick.
“They didn’t do you any harm.” Jo smiled.
“How’s it going?” Alf nodded in the direction of the hotel.
“Well the first weekend is nearly over and it’s been good.”
Jo followed Alf’s gaze. The car park was half full and she hoped that Judy had let some rooms. “It’s has to get busy though I’ve invested everything in it. There’s no margin for quiet times.”
“You’ll be alright.” He took a long swig and looke
d at Jo. “Your man must ’ave been mad.” He shook his head then finished remainder of his beer in one gulp. Jo didn’t know what to say.
“Don’t worry about the gypo’s. I’ll be ‘ere, you’ll come to no harm.” He put his glass on the bench and thrust out his hand. Jo took it - it was warm and calloused, but very reassuring.
“We’re friends thee and me.”
“Thank you Alf.”
His face broke into a huge grin and he threw his head back and laughed.
“There’ll be some right gossip t’nite after this.” He gathered Jo’s glass, ruffled Thomas’ hair then picked up his own empty glass.
“I’ll see thee!” He shouted and disappeared into the depths of the 17th century pub.
Jo released the brake on the buggy and set off. Images of marauding, pillaging gypsies ransacking the hotel raced through her mind. She crossed the road to her house where Ann waited in the small kitchen.
“Good walk Mrs E?” Ann asked. She lifted Thomas from his buggy and guided his legs into his high chair.
“What have you got here little man?” She touched the soft gooey mess that was smothering Thomas’ fingers and mouth.
“Don’t ask Ann.” Jo warned “You’ll have the authorities in if you knew what he’s eaten.”
“Am sure he’ll have a lot worse, whatever it is.” Ann rubbed a warm soapy flannel over his face.
Jo kissed Thomas then hurried through to reception to see what had happened in her absence.
“I’ve sold four rooms.” Judy greeted Jo. “They’re all eating in and the kitchen knows.”
“That’s brilliant Judy - we won’t be empty tonight after all.”
Jo counted the notes from afternoon teas with pleasure. There’s nothing like the feel of pound notes in your pocket!
CHAPTER TWELVE
Monday morning. Jo set about breakfast preparations with Michael, she felt like she’d been up for hours.
There were ten residents for breakfast, another room had checked in late evening and with the morning calls already done, there would be signs of life in the dining room soon.
Jo was trying to be patient with Michael but he was slow, there were jobs that wouldn’t wait. Jo started on the porridge and watched him leisurely place breads in the oven. The bacon needed racking and sausages cooking, plus a dozen other jobs. Simon had already made fresh coffee, set the tables with milk, butter and pots of home made marmalades and jams.
“Come on Michael, get a move on.” Jo was frustrated. She wanted to shove him out of the way, put her apron on and get stuck in behind the stove. “Breakfast is the easiest duty of the day. You should be prepping up for tonight now!”
She took the menu off the board. Sandra had left precise instructions for Michael. He looked weary and his eyes seemed bloodshot. Jo wanted to sniff his breath but felt it would look too obvious. She’d wait for an opportune moment; Sandra was due at ten o’clock.
Jo had made her mind up that she’d wander over to Marland later to ask Pete Parks about another car, she knew it was time to put something a bit more in keeping on the gravel. But in the meantime she needed to supervise Michael through breakfast.
* * *
Alf stood at the side door of Jo’s house. He knocked hard and hoped that Ann would hear him. He didn’t want to go through the hotel or kitchen. There was no sign of life as he walked round to the garden. He looked up at the lounge window on the first floor and shouted.
“Ann, open the door!”
Alf picked up a pebble and tossed it against window pane. It bounced hard on the leaded glass and he heard it crack. The sash window flew open and Ann’s head thrust through the gap.
“Jesus Alf! What the bleedin’ hell do you think you’re doing? You’ve broken the glass!”
“Get down ‘ere, I’ve something for the Missus.” Alf hissed back. He glanced round nervously - he didn’t want to be coughing up for a broken window.
A few moments later Ann unbolted the door, she held Thomas on her ample hip. Thomas recognised Alf and waved his hands “Alf, Pig, Pig! He held out a pink plastic pig.
“All right, I’ve got something grander than that.”
Alf strode past Ann into the small kitchen. He led an unkempt and sorrowful looking creature behind him by a thick length of dirty rope. Ann was aghast.
“What on earth have you got there?” She said.
“She’s called Pippa. She needs a good home and the Missus needs a dog.”
He deposited the dog and lead in the middle of the floor, then turned to Thomas and tickled him under his chin.
Alf began to explain to a dumbfounded Ann that he didn’t think the dog was very old and he’d found her wandering around a farmyard up on Gun Fell. The farmer didn’t know where she’d come from and didn’t want her, so Alf had put her in the back on his old Land Rover and bought her down here.
Ann thought that Jo would have a fit! Thomas was wriggling out of her arms and as she bent down to put him on the floor, he crawled towards the dog.
Pippa sat meekly on the stone slabs and trembled.
Thomas stopped and pushed his plastic pig towards her. He poked at the dog’s paws and tentatively touched Pippa’s fur with his fingers. With complete wonder, he looked up into her fearful brown eyes. The dog bent her head and sniffed his hair curiously then gently licked his cheek. Thomas pulled her ear.
“Doggie, Uff Uff!” Thomas chortled between licks and strokes.
Alf and Ann watched the child and dog bond. Ann smiled. The dog was a collie mix with some Labrador retriever; by nature it would be gentle with the child.
“That’s that then.” Alf nodded at the floor. “I’ll see thee!” He grinned at Ann, turned and left the house.
Horrified, Ann stared at his retreating back.
“Uff Uff!” Thomas poked happily at the dog “Ippa! Ann Ippa!”
* * *
Relieved that breakfast was over, Jo went to get changed. She’d ended up doing most of the cooking and now smelt like a greasy spoon fry-up.
Sandra had come on duty and weighed the situation up immediately, she noted that Michael seemed to be hung-over.
Jo left Sandra to sort him out and climbed the stairs to her bedroom.
“Uff Ippa!”
Jo stopped. Thomas was calling out and his voice seemed to be coming from the bathroom.
“Uff Uff!”
Jo realised that he must be in the bath, playing with a toy dog from his farmyard, his treasured pig no doubt floating in the bubbles. She took the stairs two at a time, pleased that she had a distraction.
“Woof woof Thomas.” Jo called and threw the door open.
Thomas was strapped in his rocking cradle perched on a linen trunk, whilst Ann kneeled over the bath. Both turned. Ann was shocked to see Jo, but Thomas grinned and kicked his legs.
“Holy Moses what in God’s name is that in the bath!” Jo shouted.
A bedraggled, wet and foamy animal sat in a foot of dirty water. It hung its head and cowered but hearing Jo’s raised voice, began to scramble backwards out of the bath. Ann threw the soap to one side and leapt to catch the dog, but fell as it wriggled and squirmed out of her grip. It showered Ann and Thomas with white frothy bubbles and soaked Jo’s skirt as it sped past and made a bee-line out of the bathroom.
Ann jumped to her feet. She was drenched and her t-shirt clung to her. She began to try and explain the situation but Thomas squealed with delight. He threatened to rock wildly onto the floor at any moment.
“I can explain Mrs Edmonds…” Ann began.
“Shall we catch the creature first?” Jo hissed.
She turned and hastily followed the trail of wet paw marks ahead and caught up with it in the first floor lounge. Pippa had leapt onto the window seat and was hell bent on making her escape through the window.
“Oh no you don’t…”
Jo lunged forward and grabbed the dog She held it tightly, as Ann - complete with Thomas in his cradle, thrust out a large towel. The d
og shook uncontrollably. It was terrified and Jo felt its fear as she held on.
“There, there old girl it’s alright.” Jo picked up the towel and slackened her grip. She caught sight of a large crack in the window.
“Crikey it must have hit the window – it’s broken.” Jo gently wrapped the dog in the towel and began to rub. “What a good job I caught you - you could have gone through.”
“Ippa Mumma!” Thomas gurgled.
Jo raised her eyebrows and looked at Ann.
“Er, it’s been abandoned” Ann said. She sensed that Jo was softening. Ann’s arms were full of Thomas and the cradle contraption and she placed him down on the floor, then crossed her fingers behind her back.
“You see…” Ann began. “Alf turned up and said that you needed a dog and this dog needed a home. And I thought it was okay with you, and that I ought to get it cleaned up before you saw it and then you might like it a bit…”
She trailed off, still squeezing her fingers together. Her face twisted into a plea as she watched Jo.
It wasn’t looking good.
“Oh I see.” Jo said, “Alf thinks he can dump the dog on me does he? Well he better think again. I’ve absolutely no time whatsoever to be looking after any waif and stray he gets his hands on. You’d better call him and tell him to get straight back and find some other poor unsuspecting bugger to provide board and lodgings for his cast-offs.”
“Uff Mumma! Ippa! Uff Uff!”
A little voice rang out in the silence that followed Jo’s outburst.
Jo turned to the dog. Pippa, still trembling, began to lick Jo’s hand. Her ears had dried into soft little dreadlocks where Jo had towelled the fur.
“What is she Ann?” Jo asked. She still had her arm round the dog and the warm tongue on her hand was not unpleasant.
“Bit of an allsorts I’d say.” Ann replied. “Mostly Labrador but those ears could be anything. Should I look after her ‘till we get Alf back? Thomas seems to like her.” Her fingers were hurting, they were so tightly crossed.
Coffee, Tea, The Gypsy & Me... Page 8
