Chapter 24
Chapter 24
Fran greeted her father in the foyer of the hotel, doing her best not to colour at the awkward moment when neither of them seemed to know whether to shake hands or embrace. Bill made the best of the confusion, grasping her hand and pulling her in for a quick hug before turning his attention to Madame Beaufoy.
‘Your journey was comfortable, I trust?’ Madame Beaufoy’s voice jangled with nerves.
The question was superfluous, in Fran’s opinion. The helicopter he’d arrived in stood on the meadow to the front of the chateau, sunning itself like an enormous dragonfly, the pilot fussing around it. Even though a strong breeze seemed to have picked up overnight, it was unlikely to have been a difficult journey. No chance of Bill Wilding being pressed cheek to backpack for hours on a rammed train. Not even the laborious, if luxurious, wait in a first-class lounge at an airport. If Bill Wilding needed to get somewhere, he got there, wasting as little time as possible. Should the transporter technology from Star Trek become a reality, Fran could imagine her father beaming himself all over the place. The image made her smile, took away some of the nerves, which were still getting the better of Madame Beaufoy as she uncharacte?ristically stuttered over introducing herself, and then a few of the higher-ranking staff members.
‘Is there a room Fran and I could use, Madame Beaufoy? Somewhere we won’t be interrupted?’
‘Of course, Monsieur Wilding.’
The words were followed by an excruciating Downton Abbey moment when Madame Beaufoy clicked her fingers at Pierre on the front desk, asking if the smaller of the conference rooms was free. And ready to receive as important a guest as Bill Wilding, Fran thought, although that part of the request was left unspoken. Pierre scurried, returning a few moments later with a relieved nod of his head.
‘Let me show you the way,’ Madame Beaufoy said, dismissing the rest of the staff and leading the group, visibly irritated when Pierre bobbed out from behind reception again to press an envelope into Fran’s hand.
Although it was addressed to her, Fran didn’t recognise the handwriting. Now wasn’t the moment to open it, whatever it was, so she folded it and stuck it into her pocket.
When they were both settled in the room, Madame Beaufoy asked if they would like coffee.
‘Not now, thank you. Maybe later.’
Madame Beaufoy withdrew, and Bill Wilding settled his gaze fully on Fran for the first time since he’d arrived. Fran found herself picking at a nail as he studied her, his concentration on her was intense. After what felt like an interminable amount of time he grinned.
‘So, you decided to go undercover then?’ he said.
Johnny caught sight of Fran as he re-entered the hotel, having returned from a second meeting with Monsieur Beaufoy at Beaufoy Wines. He’d been lining up that potential goldmine of a supply of wines for his tasting holidays. The deal was made even sweeter when Monsieur Beaufoy offered the possibility of allowing guests access to tour the vineyards, and Johnny assured him that not only would his prospective clients love that idea, but it would also act as an extra source of income for them both.
It all made perfect sense. After all, Monsieur Beaufoy’s vineyards stretched all the way around Chateau des Rêves. They were visible from the upstairs rooms.
If he managed to buy the chateau, Johnny imagined putting a gate in the property line, popping through to pick himself a handful of grapes, except he was aware that for most of the growing season, vineyard grapes would be sour enough to take the lining off the back of the throat of anyone foolish enough to pinch a bunch. Maybe the gate would make for a pleasant walk through the vineyard, a picnic nestling in a basket and Estelle running up and down the lines of vines. Fran carrying a blanket for them all to sit on …
Back in the here and now, he took the steps to the hotel foyer and almost called out to Fran. He wanted to ask if she’d had a chance to look through his plans yet, but the words caught in his throat. She was surrounded by senior members of the hotel staff, all wearing studious expressions.
No, it wasn’t Fran who was surrounded by them, it was the man she was with. He was the one they were all focused on. As the guy turned, Johnny caught sight of his face, recognising almost immediately who he was. It was Bill Wilding.
Noel would have a seizure if he knew Bill Wilding was at the hotel, had always spoken about the businessman with a God-like reverence. Would probably give his right ear to meet the guy – and here the man was. Larger than life.
Johnny frowned. Although he had no personal feelings towards Bill Wilding, the tug towards his brother and his attitudes towards life were still strong. But his confusion at seeing Fran dressed in normal clothes, rather than the hotel uniform, smiling and looking relatively comfortable in Bill Wilding’s company deepened Johnny’s frown to canyon status.
He watched the group as they ebbed and flowed like a small shoal of fish, before Fran, Bill Wilding and Madame Beaufoy peeled off and headed for one of the hotel’s smaller conference rooms.
When the hotel manager reappeared, Johnny stopped her.
‘Excusez-moi, Madame. Could I ask who that is with Fran?’ He knew perfectly well, but it seemed a better way into the conversation than asking what on earth Fran was doing in conference with the business tycoon.
The answer was not the one he had been expecting, and it silenced him.
‘That is Fran’s father, Monsieur.’
Fran studied Bill’s expression for clarity. Was he smiling because he thought the situation was legitimately funny, or was his smile born out of a different emotion, one with less charitable origins? Was it a true smile, or the smile of an assassin, about to reveal his true intentions?
The fact that Fran didn’t know which way the situation could go, didn’t know how Bill would react, told her how little she understood yet about her new-found father.
And if he really did find her decision to go undercover to be amusing, how did that make her feel? She hadn’t done it as a joke.
‘There was some kind of misunderstanding when I arrived, and before I knew it, I became part of the hotel workforce. It seemed like a good opportunity to go behind the scenes of Wilding Holdings and find out what really happens day to day, alongside discovering guest satisfaction levels.’ She watched him carefully for his reaction.
If the arch in his eyebrows were any gauge, her decision hadn’t been a total bust.
‘I suppose you may have a point.’ His smile faded. ‘Although it’s not something I would suggest happens again. It’s not quite so easy to explain to the board that my daughter is working as a chambermaid, is it?’
‘Why? What’s wrong with being a chambermaid?’ She wanted to remind him that was the exact same job her mother had been employed to do when they’d first met, but didn’t quite have the nerve.
Bill smiled but didn’t reply. Instead, he pulled a slim laptop from his elegant leather cross-body bag, set it on the table in front of them both and fired it up.
‘So, I received a copy of your report late yesterday.’
He tapped at the keyboard, and Fran’s document popped up on screen.
‘I appreciate your enthusiasm, Fran. But I’m not entirely sure you understand the brief.’
‘The brief?’
‘Apologies, that sounded a bit corporate. The thing is, you don’t need to worry about manual labour work again.’ Bill paused, the edgings of a smile lifting his cheeks. ‘What I’m trying to say is that when you expressed a wish to learn more about Wilding Holdings, I thought this could be a good way of gently introducing you to the business while making up for all the time I’d missed out on over the years. To give you the life you deserve without it seeming all too overwhelming.’
‘And I’ve been enjoying the stays in your hotels – they’re amazing. But you don’t need to do all this. I had a great life with …’ Even though Fran intentionally left things unsaid, she could still see the fleeting pain that crossed Bill’s face at the unspoken mention of her mum. It suddenly also occurred to Fran that it was an odd way of repairing time missed, because they still weren’t spending any time together.
‘I will never understand why your mother chose to keep you from me. It would have caused a tidal wave of problems for me, back then. Maybe that was why. I suppose I should be grateful in a way; it goes without saying my first wife wouldn’t have taken kindly to the news. But I’m not sure I will ever be able to forgive your mother for denying me my daughter.’
‘Why did she leave?’
‘I don’t know. What we had was special, and even though our situation was never going to be an easy one, I loved her so much that I would have given the world if I could. But one day she was there, working at The Grand, and the next I learnt she had handed in her notice and cleared out of her lodgings. Do you know the worst thing?’
Fran shook her head.
‘The last time we spoke, we argued. It was only a spat, nothing of any great importance, but I would give anything to take that back. I was shattered that she’d left, but the situation was difficult. My first wife was … challenging.’ Bill sighed. ‘After a while I came to believe that my feelings for your mother were much stronger than hers for me, and I finally managed to let her go, up here at least.’ He tapped the side of his head, then pulled in a deep breath. His focus swam back to her, his expression sharpening with concentration. ‘That is all in the past, long gone. When I found you, and you were understandably hesitant towards me, I suppose I thought giving you this role was a way to give you a “job”, while not expecting you to actually do anything. Allow you time to find your feet in a new world.’
The way he mimed inverted commas around the word had Fran frowning.
‘I’m not interested in taking anything from you,’ Fran said. ‘I’m not a freeloader.’
‘You sound just like your mother.’ Bill tapped at the touchscreen, flicking through the file. He gestured towards it. ‘But what you need to understand is that this is no longer your life. You don’t need to worry about these details anymore. Your report, it’s different to the ones you’ve submitted before, and there’s nothing I can do to prevent the board from seeing it. But I will do my best to explain your overenthusiasm and make sure the board don’t take offence. In business, even the most outstanding and well run of venues don’t exist on anything other than the tightest of margins. It’s how we make money, Fran. It’s what makes the wheels turn.’ He reached across, taking one of her hands in his. ‘I understand life with your mother was a rather hand-to-mouth existence, but all that is gone, now. I can offer you so much more.’
Fran pulled her hand from beneath his, withdrawing it to her lap. Maybe Penny had been on to something when she’d told Fran nobody would want to hear about staff conditions and would instead turn a blind eye to anything they didn’t deem important – like the local communities. Get inside the castle and pull up the drawbridge – was that really what her father was all about?
Bill didn’t seem to notice Fran’s hesitation, reaching into his bag again, this time coming out with a couple of pieces of A4 paper stapled at the corner. A glossy photo of a seafront property was prominently displayed. He passed the pages to her.
‘What do you think?’ he asked.
It took a few minutes for Fran to absorb the information she was staring at. It was a house in Lyme Regis she knew well, one she had walked past regularly. Situated high enough to have unparalleled views of the sea, the house itself ran to a couple of storeys, with a large retail space beneath the living areas. The property marked the bottom of the High Street, on a corner which doubled up as being part of the seafront promenade while a set of steps marked the beginning of the town’s pedestrianised shopping area, leading up towards the rest of the High Street.
The retail space had been occupied for years by one of Lyme’s fossil shops, but it currently lay empty and disused – presumably because the entire property was being sold.
‘I know this house.’ Fran wasn’t sure what else her father wanted her to say.
‘Do you like it?’
‘I suppose so. I’ve never been inside, but it looks like it’s a beautiful property.’ She leafed through the information again. ‘Four bedrooms all en suite, dual-aspect living room, recently refurbished bespoke Smallbone kitchen, private courtyard garden, upper-level veranda with amazing views of the surrounding coastline. Price on Application.’
‘I thought this would be the perfect home for you. You could even turn the retail space into a workshop, for your bits and pieces of furniture.’
‘I can’t afford this …’ Even as the words left Fran’s mouth, she began to understand.
‘I can,’ Bill said.