Chapter 4
Ben was still getting over the last, somewhat eventful, hour. First of all, he had argued with his grandad. Storming out ready to go somewhere, anywhere, other than Maple Tree Lodge, he had managed to narrowly avoid a head-on collision. Finally he had ended up with a gorgeous redhead in his arms!
But even that unexpected treat didn’t make him feel any better as he followed his grandad into the large kitchen, their earlier disagreement still weighing heavily on him. He hated that they couldn’t get along at the moment when they had always been so close, until the past six months.
At least the kitchen had a cheery atmosphere.
It was the beating heart of the whole place and where the family had gathered as usual for dinner.
The aroma of home cooking filled the air as his mum Faye was taking a freshly baked loaf of bread out of the oven to accompany the pie she had made.
Nearby, his sister Hannah was drizzling water icing over a cherry cake.
His grandmother Dotty was knitting by the fire and his grandad had just sat down at the head of the long oak table that filled the other side of the room.
Only one person was missing from the family. Ben glanced at the empty chair at the other end of the long table and walked straight past it. He couldn’t sit there. It was his dad’s chair. Perhaps in time but it was still too early, still too strange a time for them all.
It had been almost six months since the family had lost his dad and yet, deep in their grief, they were all still struggling to find a path forward without his presence among them.
Earlier on, Ben had suggested a family meeting before dinner to try and move the business in the right direction but between the knitting, baking and home cooking, he didn’t think the Ritz was going to be worried about the competition for hotel reservations.
Ben tried to find some positivity from somewhere as he sat down. He still had his mum and Ben was grateful for her quiet strength, although the unexpected loss of her husband had undoubtedly taken its toll.
He watched her as she chopped up some herbs at the large island in the middle of the work area.
She had always been softly spoken, happy to be in the background, but these days Faye was even more withdrawn, her smile not quite so frequent as it had once been.
Now fifty-seven, her short blonde hair was tinged with a few grey hairs but despite keeping her slim figure with frequent walks around the lake, she was a little slower and sadder these days.
‘Shall we try and hold this meeting before our guest comes downstairs?’ said Ben. ‘Frankie’s just showing Lily to her room so now’s a good time to discuss the business whilst it’s just us family.’
‘Business meeting,’ Ben heard his grandad mutter from the other end of the long oak table. ‘Never needed business meetings in the old days.’
‘Was that before or after we stopped receiving bookings?’ asked Dotty, his grandmother, in a mild tone.
Dotty was an exuberant character, or had been until the loss of her son.
Suddenly her zest for life had become far more muted, so much so that she had even let her hair dye grow out and now that her hair was grey, she appeared much older all of a sudden.
And yet, once in a while, she showed a steely glint in her soft blue eyes and even sharper observations.
Faye placed a jug of water on the table and sat down at the table.
‘What’s all this about Lily’s car?’ she asked, looking concerned as she looked across at her son.
‘It’s pretty much embedded in the small pond, from what I could see. It’s going to need towing to get it out of there,’ Ben told her. ‘I’ll try the winch on it in the morning.’
He looked around the table and realised that his sister had not yet sat down. Hannah was still fussing over her cake but glanced up when she felt her brother looking at her.
‘What?’ said Hannah, with a shrug. ‘You don’t want a dry cake for dessert, do you?’
She was trying to avoid any kind of responsibility as usual but he desperately needed her support. Ben sent her a beseeching look of desperation which she must have felt as she finally joined the family at the table and sat down with a huff.
‘So,’ said Ben, trying to drag some semblance of order to the meeting as his grandmother continued with her knitting and his mother topped and tailed runner beans into a bowl.
‘Now that the plumbing is done and the electrics are underway, we need to come up with some kind of marketing plan for when the renovations are finished.’
It had been a major undertaking during the past six months.
Ben hadn’t realised quite how run-down the place had become before he had inherited it from his dad.
Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to see, he had often wondered.
But the fact of the matter was that the renovations had been necessary in order for them to comply with all the modern rules and regulations for hotels.
Updating all the electrical wiring and then replastering were the last two major jobs before decorating.
And a good job too, he knew, as he had almost run out of money.
His eyes drifted towards the window and the small gamekeeper’s lodge beyond where his grandparents now lived.
He’d managed to persuade his grandmother that it had also needed updating.
Dotty was happy to go along with it, especially with a new stove and walk-in shower.
Meanwhile Walter had mumbled and muttered about the unnecessary cost but had never denied that it needed doing for ease of living.
Ben glanced at his grandad. Walter had retained his tough, can-do attitude despite his advanced years and nothing Ben had done to the place had been good enough for his grandad, or so it felt to him.
He’d complained about the new en suites as being ‘too fancy’ and the roof slates not being the same shade as before.
That morning he had grumbled at the new silver light switches in the reception hall being ‘a bit flash’ which had led to Ben walking out, feeling that it was the last straw.
Ben daydreamed about what he would be doing now if he hadn’t needed to come home.
Being his own boss and building a great reputation in business.
At the beginning of the year, he had had an efficient work team around him, hanging on his every word.
And now? He caught the scowl on his grandad’s face.
Everything had changed in his life. And not for the better.
‘What’s a marketing plan?’ asked Walter, his grey eyebrows knitted into a frown. ‘And why do we need one of those?’
‘Because we’re not receiving any bookings so something’s amiss,’ replied Ben.
‘How would you know?’ retorted Walter. ‘You’re not in the hotel business. You even wanted to turn it into a conference centre! Pah!’
Ben blanched at the reminder. It hadn’t been his finest idea, he knew.
And thankfully it hadn’t met with planners’ approval.
But, as always, his first instinct had been to try to find any source of income to keep them from losing the hotel.
He had thought that if he copied the competition it would work but it had been a bad idea from the outset, he knew.
Worst of all, it had built mistrust into his grandad’s view of him.
‘It’s a family inn,’ carried on Walter, on his favourite topic. ‘People like that. Not some bland resort that looks the same whichever town you’re in.’
Which was exactly what Maple Tree Lodge would become if they had to sell, thought Ben with a heavy heart.
The letter from the conglomerate with its large offer of money felt as if it were burning a hole in his pocket.
He hadn’t wanted to burden his family with any more pressure so it was his secret to keep.
His millstone to carry around with him until he finally found a solution to all their problems.
‘People don’t want a fancy place with a spa,’ said Walter, warming to his theme. ‘That’s not why they come here.’
‘They’re not coming here at all at the moment,’ muttered Ben.
‘That’s because of all these ridiculous updates you’ve got going on. The hotel will run just fine when it’s all finished,’ said Walter, with a huff.
No, it’s not, Ben wanted to shout at the top of his voice. But he didn’t. He loved his grandad and didn’t want to upset him any more than he seemed to with every conversation.
‘I stayed on to help,’ he said, trying to remain calm.
‘You didn’t need to,’ muttered Walter. ‘This place was working fine before you got here and it will work just fine once you leave.’
No, it won’t, thought Ben. Because it was only his own money that was keeping them afloat.
‘You’re not leaving, are you?’ asked Faye, turning to look at her son. He could see the tears in her eyes across the table.
He shook his head. ‘I hadn’t planned on it yet, Mum,’ he said.
‘Good,’ interjected Dotty before turning to look at her husband. ‘We need Ben and his young blood around here.’
‘Humph,’ said Walter. ‘I think I do just fine.’
‘Is that why the doctor had to up your blood pressure medication?’ asked Dotty in a mild tone.
‘Doctors,’ muttered Walter. ‘What do they know?’
‘Only what all their years of medical training has taught them, Grandad,’ said Hannah. ‘Now is that it? I want to check on Lily.’
Still needing his sister’s solidarity, Ben gave Hannah a despairing look. ‘We haven’t even started to talk about a marketing plan yet. This meeting isn’t over.’
‘I reckon it is,’ said Walter, reaching over to pour himself a glass of water. ‘He keeps going on about us not making money and then all he does is spend it.’
Ben rubbed his forehead, which was beginning to ache. It was the same battle over and over. Nothing needed to change according to his grandad.
He had gone from being the successful partner in his own company to feeling like a teenager once more.
He had no control. No new ideas were allowed to flourish.
He had a permanent mark on his tongue from biting it so much.
And everyone’s stress levels were through the roof from the tension between them.
Ben was beginning to lose his temper. ‘Well, all the money I’ve spent has come from my own savings, Grandad. Not yours because…’
Because there was no money, he added in his head. But he didn’t need to say it out loud. Everyone around the table knew just how dire things were. Even his grandad and yet, for some reason, the eternal struggle with trying to change things went on and on.
His temper died as quickly as it had flared up as he saw the pain in his grandad’s eyes.
Walter was a tough man but he was still grieving for his son.
It was as if changing the hotel meant eradicating Tony’s memory and that wasn’t Ben’s idea at all.
But if nothing changed then they would lose their home.
At that moment, Frankie walked into the kitchen and Ben was grateful for the interruption. ‘Our very VIP is all settled in,’ she said.
Frankie had moved into the hotel soon after Faye was widowed. She had just split up from her husband and needed a place to stay. Frankie and Faye were old friends and she had helped them get through their grief with her wry humour and plain speaking. And on days like today, it was much needed.
‘Is it all right if I get these beans on?’ asked Faye, looking across the table to her son. ‘Otherwise the pie will burn.’
He nodded, suppressing the heavy sigh deep within.
It looked as if the marketing plan was going to have to wait for another day. Or at least until Lily had given them her plan for the interior design.
He just hoped whatever she came up with, it would be good enough to entice some new bookings and save the hotel.