Chapter 7
Abby
Abby stared out of the window, watching as Evie headed back up the street towards her cottage. It took her a while because
she stopped to greet at least five people on the way, her smile visible even from Abby’s lofty position.
She’d never met anyone quite so cheerful and positive, but she was sure that some of it was a front. A defence mechanism.
Abby did the same herself, sometimes.
I can’t stand people who lie to me.
Abby turned away from the window, swamped with guilt. Ironically enough she felt the same way. And yet here she was, lying.
This wasn’t going to work, and she was going to tell her mother that.
She should never have agreed to it. She hadn’t even started work yet and already she felt like a traitor. It might have been easier to justify if she’d understood what was going on in her mother’s head.
What was she going to do with the information Abby gleaned from her clandestine observations? Was she using it to justify
closing the hotel? Looking for ways to reinvigorate it? Abby had no idea. She knew the team she worked with back in the office
imagined her sitting with her mother while she confided all her hopes, plans and fears but her mother had never been like
that. She made her own decisions and rarely shared the thinking that had led to those decisions, even with Abby.
Abby worked hard to please her mother and deliver what she wanted, but in this case it was hard to deliver something when
she didn’t really understand the end objective. And when you weren’t comfortable with the requested methods.
She pulled her laptop out of her bag and put it on the little table by the window.
She’d work with the staff, deliver a report, but no more subterfuge.
Tomorrow she was going to walk into the hotel and confess to Evie who she was.
She slid off her shoes, stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, trying to figure out the best way to have that
conversation.
Before today The Alexandra, Cornwall had been all about data. She could recite everything from occupancy rates to revenue
performance metrics. She knew the names of every member of staff, including their age, experience and the length of time they’d
been working at the hotel.
Until today they’d been names on a list in the report she’d compiled. But now?
She reached for the shampoo and lathered her hair.
Now, the hotel was more than a pretty photograph, it was a place. And the staff were more than names. They were people.
Evie was a good example. Abby had known the basic facts about her, but even after spending one afternoon with her, she could see that the situation was more complicated than she’d first imagined and that the facts at her disposal didn’t tell the full story.
Most surprising of all was that Evie had felt comfortable enough with Abby to talk to her honestly. She’d felt able to open
up, and people didn’t usually open up with Abby. On the contrary they shut down, and sometimes even left the room.
And the fact that Evie had trusted her with information she hadn’t shared with anyone else gave Abby a deep sense of responsibility.
Yes, she was here for her mother, but she was determined to help Evie, too.
She’d done extensive research into the hotel as part of her report but nothing had suggested that Evie herself was concerned
about the way the place was being run, or that she had fears of it closing.
Most importantly of all, her research hadn’t flagged the fact that Evie had already contacted head office to discuss the situation.
Abby rinsed her hair. What had happened to the emails Evie had sent? Who had she contacted?
Jack, presumably. That needed to be handled, as did the fact that the UK general manager clearly hadn’t spent any time at
all at their Cornish hotel in recent months despite Gerald’s situation.
Was that why Jack had been resistant to her spending the summer here? Had he been afraid of what she might discover?
Abby turned off the shower and reached for a towel.
The truth was that although she was deeply uncomfortable with the idea of being “under-cover,” it was unlikely that Evie would
have revealed any of those facts had she known who Abby was.
Evie had seemed relieved to have the opportunity to talk to someone from the outside. Someone who wasn’t already part of the close-knit team she worked with every day. If Abby told her the truth she’d hold back. She’d be wary.
In order to produce a fair analysis, Abby needed access to all the facts and Evie was only going to confide in her if she
trusted her.
Which proved that, as usual, her mother was right.
She pulled on the robe that had been left for her along with the towels.
She didn’t love being “under-cover” but she’d keep it going for now and once she had a clearer picture of how the hotel was
operating, she’d consider how best to deal with it. And in the meantime, it was important that she didn’t get emotionally
attached. Not that such a thing was likely to happen. Her mother had drilled that into her from an early age.
Once your emotions are involved, you cease to make the right decisions for the business.
She dried her hair quickly, switched the robe for a white linen shirt that had been washed to a state of delicious softness
and fell to mid thigh. Then she sat down at the little table by the window and opened her laptop. She was tired, but she knew
she wouldn’t sleep and if she wasn’t going to sleep she might as well work.
First she dealt with her emails. Then she typed up her notes, leaving nothing out. She described the gardens, the food, the
way she’d felt as she’d walked into the hotel for the first time. She mentioned each member of staff that she’d met, and her
first impressions.
When she’d finished, she opened a new document and picked out the key points that would impact the business.
Her mother wouldn’t be interested in the smoothness of the clotted cream, or the sweetness of the jam that Evie had told her was made in their own kitchens from strawberries grown in the hotel gardens.
She wouldn’t care about the wild flowers on the cliffs or the way the sun had sparkled on the sea.
She wouldn’t care that Abby and Evie had laughed together, that Evie had confided in her and that Abby had found herself hoping
they would be friends. In fact, an admission like that would probably horrify her.
Abby pulled herself together.
Her mother would care about how the hotel was operating.
Facts.
The acting general manager Evie is motivated and bright. It’s clear that the sudden departure of the manager Gerald had a
significant emotional impact on the team. He was well-liked by everyone—
She paused, then deleted that last sentence. Her mother wouldn’t care whether the staff loved him or hated him. She only cared
about outcomes.
She carried on typing.
Of note is the fact that Evie reached out to head office several times but received no response. We need to review the systems
we have in place for offering support during potentially challenging periods, but particularly when requested.
She stared at the page. That observation pointed the finger directly at Jack and wasn’t going to win her any friends, but
she was used to that. And it didn’t matter. She was here to do what was best for the business, not what was best for her own
relationships.
Jack would no doubt be defensive, but his feelings weren’t her problem to deal with.
Evie had done the right thing and her actions should be on the record. Abby felt strongly that people should be given the
tools and the support to do the job they were hired to do. Clearly that hadn’t happened in this case.
She stood up and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Her neck ached and her head throbbed.
The sun dipped behind the horizon and she flicked on the table lamp.
She was about to finish her report when there was a knock on the door.
Abby closed her laptop quickly and opened the door.
Tristan stood there holding a tray. “I brought you a peace offering.”
He seemed a lot taller than he had downstairs, but then she realised it was because she’d taken off her shoes.
She glanced at the tray. “An apple?”
“You said you wanted an apple. I took you literally.”
“That’s thoughtful of you. Thank you.”
“I also brought a small taster portion of fish pie, in case you decided you wanted something more substantial. Evie said you
took an overnight flight and have been travelling for most of the day. You should eat something.” His voice was gruff. “It
will help you sleep.”
“You’re worried about the state of my health?”
“Not really, but I’m worried about the state of my own health if Evie thinks I haven’t been looking after you.” His smile
was a surprise. “And I owe you an apology for being grumpy earlier. You caught me at a bad moment.”
“It’s not a problem. You and Evie are clearly close.”
“I’ve known her for a long time. She’s a good person. I look out for her.” Something in his tone made her wonder if he saw
her as some kind of threat to Evie’s well-being. Was he giving her a warning?
“Don’t tell me—she’s the little sister you never had?”
“No. I have a little sister, although she’d floor me for describing her that way. Evie is a friend.” His gaze held hers, unflinching.
“A good friend.”
Definitely a warning there.
“I’m looking forward to working with her.” She went to take the tray. “Thank you for this.”
He nodded and handed it over. “You look different without the armour.”
“Armour?”
“Heels. Suit. Pristine white shirt. Regimented hair. The intimidating corporate look. That’s what it is, isn’t it? Armour?
You’re still wearing the shirt, of course, but this version is more casual.”
She realised that she was so tired she was only wearing the shirt she’d pulled on after her shower. Fortunately, it was decent,
but less formal than she would have liked given her present company.
“It’s called dressing for work.”
He nodded. “Armour.” His blue gaze was so intense it was like being interrogated.