Chapter Fifteen
Thursday, 15 th June
E mily smoothed her multi-coloured patchwork skirt over her hips and studied her reflection in the wardrobe mirror. The skirt swung just below her knees when she moved, and was long enough to hide her scars. On top she was wearing a scoop-necked denim blouse with above the elbow sleeves, and the effect was slightly hippy and 1970s. She would do. Sort of.
She sighed, then stuck her tongue out at her reflection. Before the accident, she’d have done a proper twirl in front of the mirror, but now all she was capable of was a feeble twist to the right and left. But even that was more than she’d have managed a few weeks ago. She was improving, even if she’d reached the stage where you had to measure the improvement weekly instead of daily.
Alan was picking her up at half six, and they were going for a drink then on for dinner in a hotel Alan’s dad had recommended on this side of Manchester. Emily went through to the bathroom to put her make-up on. It was still hard to know how she felt about him. Stacy was sure he was angling for a long-term thing, and him taking her out when he was only here for a few days did seem to show that he was keen, didn’t it? He’d have plenty of friends in Leeds that were easier to get to, but he was coming here to Elton Abbey. And she did like him, but then she’d liked scumbag Sam too. She’d liked him more, in fact, because back then she hadn’t been afraid to let herself fall in love. Not that she was falling in love with Alan, of course.
Emily dabbed on blusher. She should stop overthinking this and enjoy her evening.
‘Looking good, Mrs.’ Stacy came to lean in the doorway.
‘Thanks. Okay, that’s me. A squirt of perfume…’ Emily sprayed on some duty free Mugler. ‘I’m done.’
‘You look fab. He’s going to fall head over heels all over again.’
Emily rolled her eyes, and went to sit in the living room. ‘Have you arranged anything else with David yet?’
Stacy’s face fell about a mile and a half, and Emily kicked herself. That was a bad question to ask ten minutes before she was due to leave the flat. Stace wasn’t happy about last Sunday, though as she said – in a way it was understandable that David wanted to be with the others. Coming on top of everything else, it had made poor Stace feel like an unwelcome party guest.
‘He’s coming here for the weekend, though I’m not sure if that’s tomorrow or Saturday. I wish he didn’t have to work so much.’
Emily held her tongue. Stacy was always quick to make excuses for David, and somehow, these had been coming all too regularly recently. It was hard not to think that David wasn’t putting much effort into his relationship. Even a long-term relationship, one where you were a hundred per cent sure of the other person’s feelings, still needed a bit of work now and then. Unromantic, but true. Emily glanced at the clock. Would Alan be punctual? It was twenty-five past now.
The doorbell rang at twenty-eight minutes past six, and Stacy was on her feet and running to the door to let Alan in before Emily had a chance to stand up. She glared after her friend. Talk about taking an unfair advantage… And if Stace said anything embarrassing she would kill her.
‘Hi there! Good to see you, Stacy!’
It was odd to hear his voice here in her everyday life in Elton Abbey. Somehow, he belonged more to Switzerland in her head. Emily grabbed her bag. Come on, Em, play it cool. You’re going out for dinner with your mate Alan, nothing more. And yes – she was pleased to see him.
He came into the living room and presented her with a little bunch of flowers that looked as if they’d come from someone’s garden.
‘Mum picked them and did everything you need to with the stems, so all you need to do is shove them in water,’ he said, by way of hello.
Emily grinned. ‘Nice to see you, too.’
‘Goes without saying, doesn’t it?’
He winked at her, and Emily relaxed. The perfect friendly gentleman. Their evening was off to a good start.
***
The waiter presented the dessert card with a flourish, and Emily opened it apprehensively. She’d be bursting out of her skirt if she had one of those concoctions, though they did look lush.
Alan made his choice in seconds. ‘Look, they have lemon sorbet. I’m for that.’
Emily put the card down. ‘Perfect.’
She leaned back while he put in the order. This had turned into an unexpectedly nice evening. They’d talked about teaching, Alan’s old job in insurance, his parents’ anniversary, politics, favourite holiday destinations, and food. It really did feel as if they were on the same wavelength, and not a word was said about future relationships or anything that could ring alarm bells if you were like her and didn’t want a future relationship yet. He hadn’t put a foot wrong, had he? No patting her hand over the table, no ‘accidentally’ brushing her leg with his feet. She’d wanted to have dinner as friends, and that was what she’d got.
The waiter brought the sorbets, and Emily lifted her spoon. ‘How were things at Lakeside when you left?’
Alan’s face fell. ‘Quiet, in a word. Few guests, apart from weekends when the cyclists swell the numbers, and Rico and his dad are wandering around saying nothing about anything. Ralph seems cheerful enough, but Rico’s looking pretty sick. I think there’s something going on, but whatever it is, they’re keeping it to themselves.’
‘Oh dear. It’s so dreadful how they lost Rico’s mum like that. It must have been awful.’
Alan breathed in and leaned forward, and her heart thudded with apprehension. Oh, she shouldn’t have said that. His eyes were fixed on hers, and she’d just given him the perfect opportunity to say something like, ‘so we should all be living the day’.
‘Emily, I’m… I know you don’t want to start anything, but – I wondered if you’d like to go out on Saturday night too? Maybe with Stacy and her boyfriend? I have family stuff in the afternoon, but I thought we could all go for dinner somewhere?’
Emily’s mouth went dry. This was him living the day, but he might have a point. Friends could live the day too, couldn’t they?
She took a sip of her wine. ‘David’s at ours this weekend, so that could work. How about I talk to Stace and text you?’
‘Perfect.’ Alan went back to his sorbet, and Emily followed his example. She had some thinking to do.
***
Rico bounced up and down on the balls of his feet at the reception desk. It was nine o’clock on Friday morning, and the Grande people would be arriving any minute – yes, this must be them now.
He had to swallow his surprise – shock? – as Bernhard Schmidt, the elegantly-suited Grande representative, strode through the front door clutching a folder with ‘Grande’ embossed on the front. Yikes, this guy wasn’t much older than he was, and he was accompanied by an even younger but equally elegant woman in the spikiest stilettos Rico had ever seen in real life. Bernhard introduced her as ‘my PA, Melanie.’ Ralph had given a little start of surprise too when he saw the couple, but as usual he was all charm, ushering the pair into the small conference room and offering coffee.
Rico took his seat beside Ralph and listened as Bernhard chatted about some of Grande’s most successful projects and the company’s plans for further expansion. It all sounded very ambitious; Grande clearly weren’t short of cash.
Bernhard finished his monologue and smiled round the table. ‘Shall we start with a tour of the premises and grounds?’
Ralph slid a folder across the table. ‘Of course. I’ve made you a copy of the plans – the hotel and the two plots belonging to it, and the adjacent plots as well.’
Bernhard opened the folder and pulled out the map Ralph had included. ‘It’s certainly a prime location, right on the lake. This is the kind of place we’re looking for.’
Rico searched around for something intelligent to say. ‘Assuming you did want to buy, how would things proceed?’ he said at last.
Bernhard put the plans into his briefcase and snapped it shut. ‘You would have the place valued, decide on your price, and we would make an offer. Then we’d see if we could reach an agreement. But let’s take things in the correct order.’
He stood up, and Rico followed the others from the room, trying hard to suppress the wish to punch Bernhard’s horrible smarmy nose. Was it stupid to wish that the Grande rep was a lovely friendly old guy, bubbling over with enthusiasm for Lakeside and declaring they would keep it just the way it was? Yes, he decided. Extremely stupid. No matter who bought the place, change was inevitable.
Ralph led the way round the building, working from bottom to top and including their own quarters. Melanie made notes while Bernhard took the odd photo, but neither said much. Rico tagged on at the back, apprehension rising to mix with increasing annoyance. Bernhard was looking positively murderous now, and Melanie was trotting along beside him, boredom all over her perfectly made-up face. Lakeside didn’t appear to be living up to expectations and having seen those Grande hotels last week, Rico could see why. Should he even hope that Grande would say thanks, but no thanks? What would they do if that happened? Keep the hotel and look for another manager? Not what Ralph wanted. Find another buyer? That would only put off the evil hour, wouldn’t it? For the life of him, Rico didn’t know whether to be glad about Bernhard’s lack of enthusiasm, or not.
Outside, however, the Grande rep’s face lit up as soon as he saw the terrace bar arrangement. ‘This is terrific. And it would make an excellent conservatory. Did you never think about glassing it in?’
Ralph’s eyebrows rose. ‘Well, no. People like to be properly outside in summer.’
Bernhard didn’t reply to this. His camera was clicking like mad while Melanie made copious notes, but he said nothing more until they were down at the mooring place.
‘How far along the bank does your land stretch? Would you need planning permission to extend the jetty?’ he asked, staring from Lakeside Lady along to the boathouse.
‘The plot ends where that willow’s dipping into the water,’ said Ralph, pointing to an elderly tree twenty yards beyond the boathouse. ‘I’m not sure about the planning permission. Shall I find out for you?’
‘Don’t worry. We’d do that ourselves. I think we’ve seen enough – thank you for showing us around. I’ll be reporting back to our head of developments, and we’ll be in touch in a week or so. Meanwhile, I suggest you have a fresh evaluation made.’
He was all smiles now, and Rico had to concentrate to keep his expression neutral. The hotel hadn’t impressed, but the land had. Shit. Would Grande demolish and rebuild? It was unlikely to be a traditional chalet if they did. The other Grande hotels had all been ultra-modern.
‘That went quite well, didn’t it?’ said Ralph, as they stood in the front doorway while Bernhard’s Porsche exited the car park.
‘I guess. He didn’t say much about the hotel. Would you mind if they rebuilt?’
Ralph looked startled, then shrugged. ‘They can’t take our memories, Rico. But I’m sure it won’t come to that – a holiday in a traditional old wooden chalet could be a big attraction for them to market the place with. They’d renovate pretty extensively, I guess, but that’s what the place needs. Cheer up, son. Things will improve with new management, I’m sure.’
Rico stuck his hands into the pockets of his chinos and headed back inside, not convinced that Grande would want a traditional chalet, but that was neither here nor there. Selling the hotel meant accepting whatever Grande did with it. It would be none of his business whether the terrace was glassed in or the jetty extended or Lakeside and everything in it was razed to the ground. That was the bad news. The good news was he’d be free to pursue his own dream.
Rico jogged upstairs to change into shorts. Yet again, today was going to be even hotter than yesterday. And this was what people meant when they talked about mixed feelings, wasn’t it?
He poured a glass of iced tea and stood on the balcony, sipping. The lake was blue, the heat haze was down, and the hotel was empty. Maybe by next summer, Lakeside would be a roaring success – with a different name and a proper conservatory – and he’d be hunting around for a property to start up his business.
Far below, his father unchained Lakeside Lady , gave Rico a wave then pulled away from the jetty and started up the lake towards Rorschach. Mixed feelings? It was the understatement of the century.