CHAPTER EIGHT
I had a washing machine and separate tumble drier back at home, but a load of maybe two sets of bed linen would take a couple of hours to complete. At least. And then the linen had to be ironed and put back on the beds (eighteen times over) and the accommodation cleaned as well.
It was an impossible task in five hours.
If I couldn’t come up with a solution, I’d have to phone around and hope some customers might be able to delay the start of their holiday instead of cancelling altogether.
I looked at my phone, my heart sinking at the very thought. It wasn’t so much the revenue that we’d lose with the potential cancellations that was making me feel quite nauseous – although with a mortgage to pay on Bogg House now, as well as the rent, it certainly wasn’t great.
What was making my head pulse with anxiety was the thought that I’d be ruining the excitedly anticipated holiday plans of so many people! Some were bringing young children, which made me feel even worse, thinking of their disappointment.
I’d have to tell Zak that I’d cocked up because Rori had left. He’d immediately come home, thinking I had too much to cope with on my own, and his plans for a peaceful south coast break to dream up a new story idea would be shattered. I’d have interrupted his creative flow, which would leave us in an even worse position.
How on earth would we manage to pay the mortgage on Bogg House if Zak’s income stream from his writing was to dry up?
I was already starting to feel guilty about persuading him that we should buy Bogg House in the first place. I loved our new house, but Zak had responded with his head, not his heart, and he’d seen all the practical difficulties that I’d been trying to gloss over. Difficulties that could turn out to need a bottomless pit of cash to resolve...
The panicky feeling inside me edged up a few notches.
I forced myself to take a few deep breaths. Telling Zak what had happened was the least of my problems right now. I had a much more urgent problem to face. And I needed to face it right now!
Feeling sick, I pulled my laptop closer and clicked on the list of guests I was going to have to disappoint.
Unless . . .
Remembering what I’d said to Rori about finding another laundry company, I grabbed my phone and searched through my contacts for Wash-and-Go, which was the firm we’d used in the early days. We’d switched to EazyClean as the business had grown because they were more able to handle the volumes of laundry we required more profitably for us. But maybe Wash-and-Go would be able to help us out of a tight spot?
My heart was beating fast as I phoned them. It was ridiculously short notice...
Two minutes later, I threw the phone down. Groaning, I flopped over the desk, digging my hands into my hair in despair. They’d already had a dozen phone calls from companies like ours, who were in a fix because EazyClean were out of action. So of course there were no available slots left today. They could possibly squeeze us in tomorrow, but that was no good.
Our guests were arriving in less than five hours!
There must be something I could do.
I needed to phone Milo, my partner in the business, but I was having trouble breathing, never mind being able to string a few coherent sentences together. It was sod’s law that the very week after Rori left, this should happen...
Snatching up my phone, I walked out of my office and left the building by the back door. I needed time to get my head together so I could think logically. Because I wasn’t quite ready to give up on finding a solution.
I walked onto the village green and headed for the bench by the duck pond. I’d solved many a dilemma sitting on that bench. Maybe it could work its magic once more for me.
But with a head full of jumbled thoughts, it seemed that magic was in short supply that day. Because whichever way I looked at it, this really was an impossible task.
I could collect the linen and drive to the nearest laundrette. But even assuming I could get it all done, there would be no time left for cleaning. Could I foot the bill for guests to stay at a local hotel the first night? But going online made me realise how impossible that would be. It was such short notice that only the more expensive hotels had rooms available. We wouldn’t just be out of pocket, I’d be bankrupting the business!
With an anguished groan, I sank forward, my head in my hands. It was no use. I was going to have to make those dreaded phone calls–
‘Hi! It’s Ellie, isn’t it?’
I turned at the voice behind me and my eyebrows lifted in surprise. It was the woman from the other night. She’d been walking her dog Mungo in the lane by Bogg House and we’d given each other a fright in the dark.
She smiled a little worriedly. ‘Are you okay? Sorry, I’m terrible at remembering names. In one ear, out the other.’
‘No. I mean, yes. You’re right. It’s Ellie. And you’re... Rhona?’
‘Yes.’ She pointed at the bench. ‘Do you mind?’
‘No, of course not. It’s a great place to think, this bench.’ I smiled ruefully. ‘Not that it’s being much help to me at the moment.’
‘Oh. Problems?’
I nodded. ‘Big problems. Well, one in particular. I’ve got eighteen sets of bedlinen and dozens of towels that should have been laundered by this afternoon. But the company we use has temporarily shut down.’
‘As of now?’ She frowned.
I nodded. ‘Right now.’
‘Gosh. Talk about dropping you in it.’
‘It wasn’t actually their fault. Their premises were flooded.’
‘I see. Oh, dear. And this bed linen is for...?’
‘The glamping site.’ I nodded in the vague direction.
‘Oh, of course. You mentioned you ran a glamping business, along with the café and bakery.’ She looked round at the café. ‘It looks lovely, by the way. The café. I was just on my way over. I was going to treat myself to a cappuccino and a slice of cake.’
‘Oh. Right. Well, let’s go.’ With a smile, I slipped automatically back into work mode. A customer was a customer, after all. ‘We’ve got a lovely Black Forest gateau on the menu today, as well as lemon drizzle – always popular – and freshly-baked muffins, of course.’
‘I love a muffin. Best comfort food ever.’ Rhona grimaced as we walked back to the café. ‘I’m not having the best of days myself.’
‘Oh, poor you.’ I turned, expecting her to elaborate.
But she just smiled and shrugged it off. ‘Nothing that a delicious muffin won’t put right.’
‘Well, we have a choice of blueberry, triple chocolate or salted caramel today.’
‘It feels like a triple chocolate sort of a day.’
‘Excellent choice.’
She smiled sadly. ‘It sounds like you could do with some comfort yourself.’
‘Too right.’ I summoned up a grin. ‘The sugar hit might help me through the ordeal of phoning all our guests and preparing myself for cancellations.’
‘How long have you got before they arrive?’
I glanced at my watch as I opened the café door and ushered Rhona in ahead of me. ‘Erm... officially four hours and forty-five minutes. They can check in from three. But often they’ll drive here after work, so it can be early evening by the time they get here.’
She nodded. ‘Could you phone them and find out their individual estimated times of arrival?’
I glanced at her in surprise. ‘I suppose I could.’
She shrugged. ‘If we started now, we could probably get at least some of the shepherd’s huts ready. And then we’d hopefully have more time to cater for the later arrivals?’
If we started now?
I stared at her. Was she offering her services?
Rhona chuckled. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to take over. It’s just I ran a cleaning company in London until very recently.’
‘Ah, right.’ She’d mentioned a successful company but hadn’t told me the nature of the business.
‘So I know all about cleaning floors and changing bedding. We ran a laundry and ironing service in tandem with the domestic cleaning side of the business.’
I looked at her, a little spark of hope flaring inside. ‘So... are you telling me you think it might be possible to salvage the situation?’
‘Yes. It’ll be tight, of course, but we could do it, I’m sure.’
‘Oh, my goodness.’ She’d said it in such a calm, matter-of-fact way, I was inclined to believe her. I felt my shoulders loosen with relief. ‘And you really wouldn’t mind helping?’
‘Not at all. Mungo’s with Amanda, my next-door neighbour. She dog-sits for me sometimes, and I could ask her to have him overnight.’ She chuckled. ‘I pay her, of course, but I don’t think it’s about the money for her. I think she’d adopt Mungo if she could. She absolutely adores that dog.’
‘Are you sure about this? I’ll pay the dog-sitter, obviously.’
She waved away my concern. ‘Oh, we can sort that out later when we have time. Come on, we need to get going, working out a plan.’ She grinned. ‘Over a quick coffee and a triple chocolate muffin, of course. Can’t work fast on an empty stomach!’
I wasn’t convinced Rhona could make it work, but I couldn’t help feeling energised by her calmness and cheerful optimism.
So I smiled and said, ‘Take a seat by the window and I’ll bring them over.’
*****
Rhona’s plan seemed straightforward.
First, I’d phone around and establish roughly when people were arriving. Then I’d collect the dirty linens and drive to the nearest laundrette to get everything washed and dried.
Rhona, meanwhile, would set to work cleaning the accommodation, and when I arrived back, we’d iron what we needed for the first lot of guests arriving at 3pm and get the beds dressed last of all. We’d then have time before the rest of the visitors arrived to do the rest of the cleaning and ironing.
It felt a little awkward that Rhona was going out of her way to help me when really, I was a complete stranger to her. Obviously, I was going to pay her handsomely for her help, but this hadn’t seemed to matter to her when I’d hinted at it. She’d just said she hoped that if she was ever in a tricky situation like this, there would be someone around who would help her .
But feeling awkward or not, I wasn’t exactly in a position to refuse Rhona’s generous offer of help, so I knew I just had to go along with it and hope for the best.
Rhona seemed so calm and so positive that our plan would work – quite the opposite of me, in fact. My head still felt totally scrambled.
It seemed like a good plan on paper.
But could we really get everything ready in time?