Coffee, Tea, The Gypsy & Me...

by Caroline James

  Greg pulled up at the side of the house. There were several cars on the car park and he could see couples packing luggage away. More were pulling up. Jo’s car was probably round the back. He climbed out and stepped on some biscuits. On close inspection he could see the shapes of fortune cookies and kicked them away. He knocked on the side door and Ann hurried to let him in.

  “I can’t get him away from the puppies,” she explained. “You’d better come in.”

  Greg stepped into the lounge, where Thomas gripped a wooden structure under the stairs and peeped over the top. He turned his head and called out when he saw Greg.

  “’Uppies Daddee!” He cried out. “’Uppies!”

  Greg followed the child’s gaze. He wasn’t one for animals and couldn’t understand why Jo had taken that mongrel in. Now it had produced a litter. She must be mad! Thomas bounced up and down and pointed into the box. The kid was adorable. Dressed in pale blue striped dungarees, yellow shirt and socks, Greg couldn’t imagine that lot coming from Mothercare. That would stop too. No point in lashing out on designer stuff when the kid would only be in it for five minutes.

  Ann reassured Thomas that the puppies needed to sleep and he could wake them up when he got back.

  “Jo around?” Greg asked casually. Sow the first seed…

  “She’s gone to the cash and carry.” Hattie’s voice boomed down the stairs. Greg jumped back.

  “We were made out of the place last night. She’s gone to stock up.”

  “Are you busy?” Greg looked incredulous.

  “Heaving.” Hattie replied and came to a stop in front of Greg. “You ready for the off?” She turned and grabbed the pushchair from behind the table and started to push it in his direction. Fearing that she would break his legs, Greg darted away and took Thomas from Ann.

  “Back at six.” Hattie ordered and watched Ann load the pushchair with Thomas’ kit bag, coat and rabbit toy.

  Greg glared at her. Well it wouldn’t last he thought angrily and loaded Thomas into the car.

  * * *

  Hattie sat in reception. She’d taken several bookings that afternoon and the restaurant was half full tonight with several residents due to check in, they would no doubt eat too.

  God, she hoped things were picking up for Jo. She hadn’t realised how bad it’d been, but she wasn’t a fool and knew that there was an unopened VAT bill buried under a pile of stationary with several more brown envelopes alongside. They’d have to get it sorted. Pay in instalments if necessary, but Jo couldn’t ignore this lot. At least the weather was better, they’d done lots of afternoon teas – folk were coming through the doors.

  Hattie read through the telephone messages Judy had left that morning. John Doherty called for Mrs E at 10.15 and again at 12 noon. Bang in the middle of birthing, not a chance! Hattie thought as she screwed up the messages and put them in the bin. She couldn’t bear the thought of Jo having her heart broken, not after all that she’d done for Hattie. Bertie had talked about John a lot. He’d liked him enormously but warned Hattie that he’d never settle with Jo, Hattie didn’t know why and Bertie wouldn’t be drawn. But if that was Bertie’s thoughts on the matter then it was good enough for Hattie and come hell or high water she wasn’t having Jo upset. Even if she did light up like a Christmas tree the minute John came within her radar. He’d even called in just after lunch. Judy couldn’t wait to tell Hattie that the red car was here again and Mr Gorgeous asked for Jo. Thank God Jo had gone to the cash and carry. Then there was that idiot Greg. He was getting far to cocky now that he was allowed in the house, Hattie had no doubt that Estelle’s days would be numbered if Greg saw a chink of light past the pushchair…

  The phone rang. Peter Gavmin wanted to book a table for himself, his good lady and the Mann’s. Eight o’clock would be perfect. She wrote it down as the phone rang again.

  “Now then Harriet.” Pete Parks spoke warmly. “Good to hear you’re back in the saddle.”

  Hattie rolled her eyes. “Mr Parks, surely not a social call? Will you and your charming wife be dining with us tonight by any chance?”

  “Aye – table for six and make sure Sandra’s got some t-bones on the menu.”

  “It will be our pleasure.” Hattie replaced the phone and made a note to increase the price of steak that evening.

  * * *

  Jo and Hattie sat in reception and counted the day’s takings. Jo couldn’t believe it. They’d had a fantastic day, and with the Chinese night added to it, she couldn’t wait to get to the bank on Monday and get Mr Knight off her back.

  “Another Cointreau?” Hattie yawned.

  “No thanks. I’m knackered.”

  Jo started to yawn too. She looked at the clock on the switchboard - one in the morning! She rubbed her eyes wearily and thought that she must get to bed soon. No doubt the puppies would keep her awake with their squealing and she’d need to change the blankets.

  “The Gavmins were lively.” Hattie looked at their bill. They’d drunk seven bottles of wine between them and Robert had been positively mellow, even being pleasant to Lady Miriam, who had to be supported by both himself and Peter as they all fell into their taxi.

  “Hmn. I thought he was drunk to be honest.” Jo frowned as she remembered Robert’s words. He’d pulled her to one side in the cloak room and more or less pinned her to the wall.

  “Jo, I have to speak to you.” His face inches from hers. “You’re mad to even think of selling this place and I’m not at all happy about making any enquiries.”

  Jo tried to push him away but he moved her hands to one side.

  “I’ve told you things will improve – look how busy you are tonight!”

  “It’s just a one-off Robert, the press are painting a very gloomy picture and winter is coming.”

  “Well if you need to sell so badly, why don’t you offer it to John Doherty?” Robert snarled. “He’d have cash on the table and the place turned into a housing estate before you could say One Flew Over Fair Hill! You’re mad! Someone like him would make a killing and you’ve done all the hard work. Take my advice and stay put!” He glared at her, his face red and angry.

  “Robert, I know you’re concerned but this is my decision.” Jo pushed him away. She didn’t like to see him like this.

  “Yes, Jo it is. John was at the North Westmarland Hotel today – get yourself over there and discuss it with him.” He replied caustically. “That is if you can get past Jinny Atkinson, they were very chummy when I saw them earlier.” He opened the door, straightened his tie and returned to the Gavmins.

  Jo was mortified. The rotten bastard - talk about having your cake and eating it! John had the audacity to ask Jo to go and see him and all the time he’s cosied up with Jinny bloody Atkinson!

  Jo stood up. Hattie was locking the bar. Jo felt tense and was seething with anger as she thought about John.

  “I will have that Cointreau.” She told Hattie. “Remind me to cancel Jinny Atkinson’s Christmas party, she can find another venue for her cronies.”

  Hattie reached for the bottle on the bar. She watched Jo’s face in the mirror and knew better than question Jo’s motives. Something had happened and no doubt it involved the Romany Romeo. Hattie poured a large measure into a glass. With a sigh she pushed it across the bar and watched Jo pick it up and take a swig. Just as things seemed better… He was like a curse! She reached for a glass for herself and poured out a beer.

  “To better days?” She raised her glass to Jo.

  “To much better days…” Jo chinked Hattie’s glass and downed the rest of her drink.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  Christmas was round the corner. Jo could hardly believe it. November had flown by and December crept up on her before she knew it. Where had the year gone? To her relief, trade had picked up. Jo didn’t really understand why, as the country seemed to be in the doldrums with an overall feeling of hard times ahead.

  She’d changed the business in several ways. People didn’t seem to be ta
king holidays and the weekend breaks and autumnal get-a-ways that were so popular in Westmarland were none existent. Conferences, shoots and seasonal menus would hopefully get them through the winter.

  Following the success of Mark Pucker’s first conference, Jo had contacted many companies and offered them conference facilities with overnight packages for their delegates. It’d paid off. She was able to undercut the larger hotels and could offer good value in luxury surroundings for small sales teams. The location was perfect, being a ten minute drive from the motorway and on a major route. They’d picked up eight new bookings, which hopefully would rebook once they had experienced the Kirkton House package. Mark Pucker had visited again with his troops and stayed overnight, then booked ahead for January. He’d had a break in his meeting and pulled Jo to one side.

  “Jo, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” They sat down in the conservatory and Jo waited to hear him out.

  “I’m sorry that I haven’t been in touch. I had a wonderful meal with you that day and wanted to see you again.”

  Jo said she knew that he’d been very busy. She crossed her fingers in her lap and prayed that he wasn’t going to ask her out again. Hattie interrupted them and asked if they’d like some coffee. They both declined and Jo had to force herself to keep a straight face, as Hattie stood behind Mark and drew large ears in the air.

  “The thing is, I took the troops to Majorca as a reward for hitting targets and I caught up with an old friend.” He looked embarrassed. “She used to work for me years ago as a John Player Special promotions girl and on the Embassy circuits.” He paused. “She married and moved out to Majorca, but her husband had a heart attack and sadly died. I didn’t know ‘till she met up with us on this trip, she’d heard we were out there.”

  Jo uncrossed her fingers, things were going well.

  “I know that I’d mentioned seeing you and I’d wanted to take you to the Gateshead Garden Festival, but Sarah and I, well…” He looked uncomfortable.

  “You’ve got together.” Jo made it easy for him. She was absolutely delighted but thought she’d better not show it too much. “I understand Mark. Well, I think I do – I had wondered why you didn’t ask me out again...” She wasn’t going to make it too easy for him.

  “I know and I’m very sorry.” He looked up, in some discomfort. “But it just sort of happened and she’s met the kids and…” He trailed off.

  Didn’t waste any bloody time! Jo felt rather miffed. “Well naturally I’m upset.” She looked down at her hands, unable to meet his eye.

  Hattie was hiding in the doorway, listening to their every word. Jo looked up as Hattie made a thumbs-up sign in the air. She indicated that Jo should keep it going.

  “I had hoped that there might be something special between us.” Jo crossed her fingers and put her head down again. Hattie was making signs of a long nose and mouthing the word Pinocchio!

  “Oh God Jo, I’m so sorry.” Mark reached for her hand. “It was just one of those things, our eyes met again and I just knew that Sarah was the girl for me. I really don’t want to see you upset.”

  Hattie played an imaginary violin. Jo didn’t think she could keep this going much longer.

  “That’s all right Mark.” She stood up and Hattie leapt back. “I am upset but time will heal.” Mark jumped to his feet and put a consoling hand on her shoulder.

  “At least you’ll come here sometimes for your conferences and we can be friends.” Jo sniffed and took a tissue from her pocket. Hattie’s palm shot up from the doorway. Perhaps Jo was going too far…

  “Of course I will my Dear.” Mark patted Jo on the back. “In fact I’ll get them booked ahead every month for next year.”

  Jo nodded, seemingly unable to speak and rushed from the conservatory. Hattie sat in reception with a calculator.

  “Played a blinder. Thought you might have gone over the top but he fell for it.” She wrote a figure down on a piece of paper and pushed it over to Jo.

  “That’s what his conferences are worth next year, that’ll sort a few VAT bills out. Cast iron bookings - bank manager’s wet dream.”

  “Bloody hell, you don’t help. I nearly lost it with the nose.” Jo’s eyes lit up as she read the figure.

  “Time you played them at their own game.” Hattie snorted. “Grieving widow? My arse… The ‘troops’ were on an away day and sexy Sarah could smell a sales manager’s salary, no wonder she whipped out her old John Player kit - tight white shorts and knee high plastic boots? He’s hardly going to put up with puppies pissing in his briefcase and your long hours. No contest…” She tapped a pencil on the desk. “Fancy a brew?”

  * * *

  It was time to get the Christmas decorations out. Judy knelt on the stairs and passed boxes of Christmas decorations to the twins. Mrs E was submerged in the cupboards under the eaves of her house. She could just about stand up and kicked the boxes across the dusty floor. Judy heard her curse every time she banged her head on a beam.

  Christmas! Judy was so excited. She loved everything about Christmas, her Mum always made a big thing of it at home with tons of decorations and mountains of food and this year was going to be extra special. Not only did Judy have all the frenzy of the hotel and Christmas parties to look forward to, but she was getting engaged! Alf had proposed to her and they planned to announce their engagement on Christmas Eve.

  Judy could hardly contain her happiness. She never imagined being married to a game keeper, and a successful one at that! Alf had told her that he had a fair sum put away in savings and to start thinking about where she wanted to live, as they’d be able to put a decent deposit down. Judy fantasised about a little stone cottage with roses round the door, at the end of a long drive in the forest somewhere. Two black Labradors sat on the steps. She could even see a pram outside in the sunshine!

  “Wake up Judy!” Jo called out. “It’s piling up in here.” Judy shook herself out of her daydream and leaned back into the cupboard.

  “Careful with that one, it’s got the shiny balls and breakables.”

  Simon appeared round the dog leg of the stairs. He had a silver garland round his neck and a glass Father Christmas hanging off each ear.

  “Don’t let her see you with that on.” Judy giggled. “She’s just said there are lots of breakables.” She pulled the boxes carefully away from the doorway and handed them to Simon.

  “Is Alf on the way with those trees?” Jo called out, her voice muffled.

  “Yes, he said he’d be here by lunchtime.”

  Alf had been despatched to select four of the finest trees he could find from the Marland estate. He was doing quite a trade in Christmas trees and all the greengrocers had their orders with him. He was fetching trees for the hotel, a tall one to go out the front, and another in the garden with two twelve-footers for the Red Room and Green Room. It would look like fairy land!

  * * *

  Hattie bustled through the hallway and searched around for the twins. Where was everyone? Penny heard the buzzer and came out from the kitchen.

  “They’re sorting out the old decorations from the pub.” She pointed to the panel room restaurant. “They’ve put it all in there.”

  Hattie peered round the door and pulled a face as she looked at the heap of dusty boxes. That lot will need some brightening up, she thought. Good job she’d been to the pound shop and cash and carry on her way in.

  “Tell Simon to get the boxes out of my car.” She told Penny and marched into the kitchen.

  “By ‘eck Sandra something smells delicious!” Hattie leaned across the table and picked up a mince pie. Sandra swiped at her hand with a ladle.

  “Don’t begrudge a poor old spinster her only pleasure…” Hattie stuffed the pie in her mouth.

  Gerald stood at the marble counter and rolled out a large square of honey coloured mixture. A wrack of biscuits cooled on the window sill. When Sandra’s back was turned, he thrust one over to Hattie. She slipped it in her pocket.

  “What’s
Santa Claus putting in your stocking then?” Hattie asked Sandra mischievously. “Or should I say Santa Arthur?”

  “I’m not biting.” Sandra retorted without turning round. Gerald giggled.

  “There’s those that’d say romance was in the air and Christmas is a time for gold rings – and not just the five in the song.” Hattie teased.

  “Well it wouldn’t surprise me if one will be going Judy’s way.” Sandra turned, just as Gerald was slipping Hattie another biscuit. She picked up her wooden spoon and clipped him round the ear.

  “It’ll come off your wages!”

  “Judy?” Hattie exclaimed. “Well I never, mind she has been tripping the light fandango with Marland’s answer to Lady Chatterley’s Lover for some time.” She paused and bit into the biscuit. “A wedding… great, we could do with a good knees-up.”

  “Who’s having a knees-up?” Jo came into the kitchen. Her hair was covered in cob-webs and she had black dust smeared all over her face.

  “Going out?” Hattie brushed crumbs off her mouth.

  “Did you get the fairy lights?”

  “I most certainly did and a few other novelties that will bring a touch of class and elegance to the place.” Hattie marched through the still room and Jo followed behind.

  The twins unloaded Hattie’s car and an assortment of carrier bags tumbled off the chairs in the panel room. Jo stared at the pile of Christmas items. She reached into a bag and pulled out a two foot high pot gnome wearing a tired Santa suit and grubby white beard.