Foxden Hotel (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 5)

by Madalyn Morgan

  The two children, clearly not wanting to be parted, stood facing each other but didn’t speak. ‘Bye-bye, Nancy,’ Bess said, breaking the silence. ‘We’ll see you another day.’

  Nancy looked up at Bess with big eyes, whispered goodbye, and said, ‘Thank you for having me, Mrs Donnelly.’ She looked at Frank, ‘Thank you, Mr Donnelly.’ Then turning her attention to her new friend, she said, ‘Goodbye Aimee,’ and kissed her on the cheek. ‘See you another day.’

  Bess could have cried watching the two little girls saying goodbye to each other. She wished her niece and her sister lived nearer. She didn’t see them often enough. Her gaze crossed to Mitch. If her brother-in-law had his way, she’d wouldn’t see them at all.

  As the party descended the stairs, Frank closed the nursery door. ‘We’ll clear up tomorrow. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. I need a rest before the guests start coming down for dinner.’ Bess yawned. ‘Are you tired?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not tired exactly, but I’d like an hour to myself. I mean the two of us,’ she clarified, ‘before we start work again. Everything all right, Jack?’ she called, passing reception.

  ‘Fine, Mrs Donnelly.’ He glanced over his shoulder at the pigeonholes where the room keys were kept. ‘Everyone’s in.’

  Bess acknowledged Jack with a smile. He was getting to be as efficient as Maeve. Well, almost. ‘We’ll be in the office if you need us,’ she said, pushing open the door. ‘Hello, sweetheart.’ Aimee was kneeling against the window seat with a blue crayon in her hand, colouring in the sky, and doing her best to stay within the lines of the colouring book that Nancy had given her.

  ‘Tonight’s float needs to go to the bar,’ Frank said, taking the petty cash box from the safe and removing several material bags of coins from it. ‘I’ll check Simon has everything he needs and come back. Put the kettle on, love, I won’t be long.’ As he passed Aimee, Frank ruffled her hair.

  Bess flicked the electric kettle switch, before sitting down at her desk. ‘Is Mummy packing?’

  Concentrating on filling in yellow stars in the sky, Aimee nodded.

  Bess was wondering about her brother-in-law’s sudden arrival and the family’s imminent departure, when her thoughts were interrupted by loud voices in reception. Aimee turned to the door at the same time as Bess. It was her father who was raising his voice. Aimee left her colouring, ran to the door, and looked back at Bess.

  ‘You stay here, sweetheart, I’ll see what Daddy wants.’ Aimee ran back to the window seat, but, instead of continuing to colour, she swiped the book to the floor, climbed onto the seat, folded her arms and set her face in a frown. Bess couldn’t decide whether her niece was frightened or angry.

  Annoyed with her sister and brother-in-law, Bess left the office. ‘Aimee can hear you two arguing and it’s upsetting her. Why don’t you come in and discuss your differences without shouting? Let your daughter see there’s nothing for her to worry about.’ Claire went into the office ahead of Bess. Mitch, like a petulant child, sauntered up to her and waved her in first. Bess felt like slapping him. Instead she clenched her fists and kept her arms down by her side.

  Bess returned to her desk and Mitch closed the door. Claire was kneeling with her arms around Aimee who pulled free of her mother when she saw her father and ran to him crying.

  ‘Hey honey, why the tears?’ A stupid question Bess thought. She got up remembering she had earlier put the kettle on, and with one ear on the conversation between her sister and brother-in-law, busied herself making tea.

  ‘Claire, I don’t want Aimee missing school. It’s the one place we know she’ll be safe.’

  ‘What? You mean she isn’t safe here, with me and my family?’

  ‘That’s not what I meant and you know it!’

  ‘Then what did you mean?’ Claire asked, unable to keep the exasperation out of her voice. ‘Mitch - look at me?’

  Bess poured tea for Claire and coffee for Mitch and set them down on the small table next to the hearth. ‘I’m going to see to the kitchen; it’s almost time for dinner, the guests will be coming down soon. Are you two staying tonight or not?’ Claire shook her head. ‘But you’ll stay for dinner?’

  ‘I’m afraid not,’ Mitch said. ‘Thanks anyway, but we need to leave for Oxford soon. Aimee will be late going to bed as it is.’

  ‘We’d better find Uncle Frank, then,’ Bess said. ‘He’d be ever so upset if you left without saying goodbye to him.’ Aimee took Bess’s hand without speaking. Bess looked down at her niece and smiled. She looked very small. Aimee looked up at Bess with sad eyes. The usual bounce had gone out of her step as she walked with Bess to the kitchen.

  ‘Hello, you two,’ Frank called from the dining room. ‘Have you come to help me check the menus?’

  ‘Not tonight. Aimee’s come to say goodbye, haven’t you sweetheart?’

  Aimee stretched out her arms for Frank to pick her up, which he did. Hugging his niece, Frank looked over her shoulder. ‘They’re staying for dinner, surely?’

  Bess rolled her eyes. ‘Mitch wants to get off.’

  ‘Do you want me to have a word?’

  ‘No. I think it’s best we leave it for today. They’ve got a fairly long drive ahead. Margot will be having the baby soon. They’re bound to come up then.’

  ‘Right, young lady, we had better see if Mummy and Daddy are ready to leave.’ Frank carried Aimee to the office and set her down. Claire had tidied her toys away and was holding Aimee’s cardigan. Aimee put her arms down the sleeves and Claire buttoned it up. ‘Have you got your case?’ Frank asked.

  ‘It’s already in the car.’

  The two men shook hands in what Bess could only describe as an uncomfortable atmosphere, one that she had never experienced before between any of her brothers-in-law. ‘Come on honey,’ Mitch said, picking Aimee up. ‘Time we left or we’ll be real late getting home.’

  Bess had driven down to Oxford to visit Claire several times and the Sunday evening traffic could be bad. But, Bess thought, it was unnecessary and unfair to her sister and niece to leave this early.

  Walking out to the car, Claire looked downcast. But Aimee, in her daddy’s arms, had forgotten her tears and was chattering away. Scrambling onto the back seat of the car next to her mother, Aimee waved out of the rear window her normal boisterous self.

  Bess and Frank stood in the courtyard and waved until the car was out of sight.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘Is Claire and Mitch’s marriage in trouble?’ Frank asked.

  ‘Yes. I think it is.’

  ‘Anything we can do to help?’

  ‘No, unfortunately. Mitch has to face the fact that he isn’t well and see a doctor.’

  ‘It’s that serious, is it?’ Frank said, shock resonating in his voice.

  ‘From what I can gather he’s behaving like Dad when he came home from the war in 1918. Mam said he used to have black moods. And when Margot and I were little, if we dared to talk when he was in one of those moods, he would get really angry. Luckily, our doctor was ex-military and had seen cases like Dad’s when he was on active service. He helped Dad to understand what was happening, and how to cope with it.’

  ‘And what was it?’

  ‘Shellshock. Claire said Mitch has been getting progressively worse since they left France and came back to live in England.’

  ‘But that’s four years ago.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Bess and Frank’s conversation was interrupted by the clanging of pans and calls for this plate, or that dish. ‘I’ll tell you more later,’ Bess said, ‘once we’ve got this show on the road.’ Leaving Frank in the corridor, Bess pretended to drag herself to the kitchen door.

  ‘There’s half an hour before dinner. I’ll be in the office.’

  Once in the kitchen, Bess slipped effortlessly into professional hotelier mode. ‘Everything all right, Chef?’ Alfredo was as temperamental as ever and rattled off the usual list of unimportant complaints under his breath wit
hout lifting his head. ‘That’s good,’ Bess said, ignoring what she was unable to hear. ‘I’ll be back by the time you start serving dinner. If you want me before then, I’ll be in the office.’

  ‘Tea,’ Frank said, pouring Bess a cup as soon as she entered the office. Bess walked round the desk and sat down. ‘Now tell me what’s going on with Claire and Mitch.’

  As she sipped her drink Bess relayed the conversation she’d had earlier with her sister, concluding with, ‘I feel I should go down to Oxford, but we’re fully booked next week.’

  ‘Normally I’d say go, darling, but if he has got shellshock - and by what you’ve told me he has - it’s a doctor he needs. Poor chap. Taken by the Gestapo, eh? He should talk to a psychiatrist and get it off his chest.’

  ‘If he doesn’t talk to someone, it’ll eat him up inside.’

  They drank their tea in silence. Thinking the same as each other, which they so often did, they found no need to speak. ‘Aimee enjoyed her party, didn’t she?’ Bess said at last. ‘She was so happy.’

  ‘She was showing off,’ Frank said.

  ‘Of course she was. She was the centre of attention. I don’t think she’s had a very good time of it lately. What with her father being moody and changeable, and over-protective, she’s probably confused. I think she’s lonely, Frank.’ Bess leaned back in her chair and thought how lovely it was that Aimee had other children to play with today - and what a nice child Maeve’s niece was.

  ‘Thinking about the children?’ Frank asked.

  ‘Yes, actually, I was. I was thinking how lovely it was that Aimee had a friend like Nancy to play with this visit.’

  ‘Who’d have thought Maeve had a niece? A turn-up for the books, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes. I’m surprised she hadn’t mentioned Nancy before. Then again, why should she?’

  ‘No reason at all, except that she’s almost like family.’

  Bess wasn’t thinking about Maeve, her thoughts were about Nancy. ‘She’s a beautiful little girl, and so well mannered.’

  ‘She’ll be a good influence on our Aimee,’ Frank said.

  Bess felt a tingle at the back of her nose, swallowed to stop herself from crying, and tried to ignore the maternal feelings that reminded her that she didn’t have children. ‘I didn’t have time to ask Margot how she was feeling,’ she said, changing the subject. She swivelled round and looked at the wall clock. ‘There isn’t time now. I’ll telephone in the morning.’ She hauled herself to her feet. ‘I’m nipping up to comb my hair and refresh my make-up. When I come down I’ll do the kitchen and the restaurant if you do the money for the bank tomorrow.’ Frank saluted her and Bess threw a teaspoon at him, before running out of the office.

  ‘Watch it, or I’ll do you for assault,’ Frank joked. Bess didn’t look back. She didn’t want her husband to see her tears.

  The following morning, Bess met Maeve running up the staff stairs while she was making her way down them. ‘Mrs Donnelly, thank goodness!’ she said, ‘I tried phoning you, but your line is engaged.’

  ‘Frank’s trying to get hold of my mother. What’s the matter?’

  ‘Mrs Burrell,’ she said, catching her breath. ‘She’s gone into labour. Mr Burrell has just telephoned. He said she was in a lot of pain, so he called for an ambulance and they’ve taken her to the Walsgrave Hospital in Coventry.’

  ‘But she isn’t due until the end of September, that’s three weeks away.’ Bess turned to go back to Frank, thought better of it and quickly turned round again. ‘We’d better get over there. Would you go up and tell Frank, while I let the kitchen know I won’t be working at breakfast or lunch? And, Maeve, tell him to bring the baby clothes down when he comes. We’ll need to take them with us,’ Bess said, reaching the bottom of the stairs.

  The breakfast staff knew Margot and showed genuine delight that the baby was on its way. Bess checked the lunch menu. It was in order. Chef said that he and the head waitress would make sure the guests had everything they needed, and that Bess was to give Mrs Burrell everyone’s best wishes.

  Maeve was back on reception and Frank was in the office by the time Bess had finished in the kitchen. She grabbed her coat. ‘Frank, did you bring down the baby clothes?’ she asked, swinging her coat over her shoulders and pushing her arms down the sleeves.

  ‘I brought this,’ Frank said, passing Bess a large carpetbag.

  ‘That’s fine. There’s no time to go back for the rest, this will do for now.’

  ‘It will do?’ Frank said laughing. ‘The bag’s so heavy, I thought you’d bought Kimpton Smith’s entire baby department.’

  ‘Not quite,’ Bess grinned.

  ‘Maeve, would you ring Ena and Claire, tell them what Bill told you. Tell them Frank and I are on our way to Coventry and I’ll ring them as soon as I’ve got anything to report. Oh, and if Claire’s husband answers the telephone, would you ask to speak to Claire? I think it’s best if you tell her in person, instead of leaving a message with Mitch. He might forget. Right!’ Bess said, ‘we’d better get going.’

  ‘Would you give Mrs Burrell this from me?’ Maeve handed Bess a soft parcel.

  ‘Of course. That’s kind of you, Maeve.’ Bess lifted her shoulders and grinned. ‘I’m so excited. I never thought Margot would have children. I’m worried too, with the baby coming early.’

  ‘It’s amazing how tough babies are,’ Maeve said. ‘Don’t worry, the little one will be fine.’

  ‘Bess?’ Frank called from the corridor leading to the back door. ‘Are you coming?’

  ‘You’re right,’ Bess agreed, ‘I’m worrying for nothing. I’m sure everything will be fine.’

  Maeve looked past Bess. ‘I’m not sure Mr Donnelly will be fine, if you don’t go soon.’

  Running to catch up with Frank, Bess felt butterflies of excitement and anxiety flying around in her stomach. She calmed down when she saw Frank’s face. Maeve was right again. Frank wasn’t fine. He looked impatient when she jumped in the car.

  As they set off down the drive, Bess said, ‘Mam! Oh, Frank, we haven’t told Mam that Margot’s gone into labour. She’ll be furious if we don’t tell her she’s about to be a grandmother again, and offer to take her with us to the hospital.’

  ‘I rang her when I went up for the carpet bag, but she didn’t answer.’

  ‘She never does. It was a waste of time having a telephone put in for her.’ Frank pulled up outside Lily Dudley’s cottage and Bess jumped out. She ran up the path and hammered on the front door. No answer, so she ran to the back door. No reply there either.

  ‘She isn’t in,’ Bess said, climbing into the car. ‘Let’s go. We’ll call in on the way back.’

  The journey to Coventry took longer than it should have done. The traffic was heavy for the time of day and there were road works just outside the village of Brinklow. Once in Coventry it was plain sailing through the suburbs. The Walsgrave hospital came into view, Frank found a place to park the car, and he and Bess were in the hospital at ten o’clock.

  Mrs Burrell, they were told, was in the maternity wing. ‘First floor, ward 10, along the corridor on the right,’ the woman behind the enquiries desk informed them.

  The nerves on the top of Bess’s stomach began to tighten. She took a deep breath to calm herself and held Frank’s hand, interlinking her fingers in his. ‘The baby is three weeks early, Frank.’

  Frank gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘Don’t worry love, she’ll be okay; they both will, you’ll see.’ Hand in hand, Bess and Frank followed the overhead signs to Maternity, taking a flight of stairs at the end of the corridor to the first floor. Before they saw ward 10, they could hear Margot shouting.

  ‘We’re in the right place,’ Frank said, laughing.

  Bess hit him playfully on the arm. ‘There’s Bill,’ she said, walking quickly on the balls of her feet, so her heels didn’t click on the tiled floor, ‘in the recess between wards nine and ten.’

  ‘Bess. Thank God you’re here,’
Bill said, as Bess and Frank approached. ‘I’ve been going mad on my own listening to Margot screaming. What the hell are they doing to her?’

  ‘They’re not doing anything to her, Bill. All mothers shout when they’re giving birth.’

  A nurse came out of a room next to ward 10. The rubber soles of her flat shoes squeaked as she walked briskly past without acknowledging Bill. A second later she was back with a midwife in tow.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Bill said, jumping to his feet. ‘How is my wife? Mrs Burrell?’

  ‘Doing fine,’ the nurse said impersonally. And entering after the midwife, she left the door to swing shut on its own.

  More screams, curses and grunts followed, and then, “Oh, Johnny! Oh, Johnny! Oh!”

  ‘What the--?’ Bill stood up, put his hands on his head and looked from Bess to Frank. ‘She’s singing,’ he said, a look of incredulity on his face. ‘She’s bloody singing.’

  The grunting started again, followed by a long ‘Agh…!’ and then, “Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves, Britain never, never, never shall be slaves.” ‘And I shall never let that damn man near me again. Can you hear me Bill Burrell?’ Margot yelled at the top of her voice. ‘Agh…!’

  Bess couldn’t speak for laughing. Eventually she managed to say, ‘They’re stopping Margot from pushing by getting her to sing.’ Frank laughed too, but Bill looked astonished. ‘Shush! Listen!’

  ‘To what?’ Bill asked. ‘I can’t hear anything.’

  ‘Exactly!’

  They sat in silence. Then a loud howl filled the corridor.

  Bill sprang out of his seat and put his hands up to his mouth. ‘He’s here. The baby’s here,’ he cried, jumping up and down on the spot. Bess and Frank got to their feet. They each congratulated and hugged Bill, before hugging each other.

  The midwife came dashing out of the room, her starched uniform rustling as she neared. ‘What’s going on?’ Bill asked, his face pale and tear-stained.