Chapter Sixteen
A new morning dawned over the rooftops at Boomerville, where the vibrant greens of late summer were now replaced by the drama of autumn.
Gold, red and orange leaves tumbled along footpaths surrounding the garden and unlike previous days, recent cold winds and rain had been set aside by mother nature and a brilliant sun burst through in a fanfare of colour and light.
Guests were taking advantage of the unseasonal weather and many cast their overcoats to one side as they enjoyed a post-breakfast walk within the sheltered walls.
One or two had picked up croquet mallets and knocked a heavy wooden ball across the lawn, cheering loudly when it found its way through a hoop.
Jo and Bob, who were also enjoying a brisk constitutional, joined in with the cheering and Bob clapped as a ball whizzed by, to tunnel through two hoops, before hurtling with a splash into the pond. Bunty teetered on the edge and woofed at the water where the ball had disappeared.
‘Extra points for a dunk?’ Bob asked.
‘Another job for Alf,’ Jo said. ‘People discard the most unusual things in the pond; the pump was blocked last week.’ She watched a guest roll up a sleeve in an attempt to retrieve the ball.
‘Are you going on the dinner outing tonight?’ Bob asked as he skipped up the steps, taking them two at a time.
‘I was going to leave Hattie to sort it out.’
‘Is that wise?’ Bob remembered the art class.
‘She can’t come to much harm at the Bengal Balti.’
‘I wouldn’t be too sure.’
‘Then perhaps I will join you all.’
Hattie had laid on a courtesy coach to transport residents and the cookery students were hoping to pick up ideas for their Taste of the Raj evening, which Jo had confirmed would take place soon.
‘I went to see the Shaman last night,’ Jo said.
‘How exciting, darling, did you learn anything?’
‘To be honest, I didn’t linger; he wanted me to vape with him and offered something that smelt very strange.’
‘Electronically?’
‘God no, he threw a brownish weed on some red-hot stones and as he started to inhale his eyes lit up and he began to chant. I thought it was time to leave.’
‘Sounds like fun to me; we really ought to go along to one of his sessions.’
‘Yes, you’re right. I shouldn’t endorse the class if I haven’t experienced it. Guests who go to his sessions say they feel like they’ve gained a new lease of life. Hattie did one before we opened Boomerville and I asked her to research the Shaman’s course.’
‘Did she enjoy it?’
‘Hard to say. She went missing for three days and came back with an eagle tattooed on her bottom. She couldn’t sit down for a week.’
‘The eagle has landed.’ Bob giggled.
‘He may not take flight again.’ Jo thought about the weary old eagle who would end his days in the soft folds of Hattie’s slowly drooping posterior.
‘Well, I’m up for it,’ Bob said. ‘I’m having a marvellous time at Boomerville and I think your business is pure gold. You’re putting a new spring in everyone’s step.’
‘Oh, I do hope so. I just want everyone to be as happy as I am. I love what we do here.’ Jo turned to call out to Bunty. ‘But we should be getting back, classes are about to start.’
‘I thought I might have a dabble at creative writing,’ Bob said as Bunty scampered ahead.
‘Good idea, the students love James. He’s a great tutor and you might pick up a new skill.’
‘He is rather dashing, never mind the writing; I could sit and gaze at him all day.’
‘No flirting with our tutors, please.’
They’d reached the steps and Jo took Bob’s hand as she negotiated the incline.
‘I can keep an eye on Andy Mack in class today,’ Bob said.
‘Hattie calls him James Bond. Do you think he’s dashing too?’
Bob stopped. ‘I get a very bad feeling about him.’
‘Really? I think he’s a sweetie and Kate is very smitten. Do you think Boomerville might get its first engagement in the coming weeks?’
‘I think she needs to be wary.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so, they seem a perfect match.’
‘Well, we’ll see.’
They crossed the lawn. With classes about to begin, it was empty of guests. Jo took a last glimpse of the fells as she turned to go into the hotel. Patches of bracken had turned to bronze and a smoky haze gave the countryside an ethereal feel.
How she loved this place! Westmarland had magical qualities and Jo hoped that it would cast its spell on everyone who passed through her doors.
‘See you later,’ Bob said, and with a wave he headed off to the courtyard.
‘Enjoy your classes.’
Jo scooped Bunty under her arm and went in search of Hattie, to begin their day.
* * *
Kate took out her laptop and set it on a table under the window.
The view followed the slope of the courtyard where beyond an open door leading to the end of the garden, the fells were framed in a cameo image.
For a moment, she was lost in the mist that rose under the morning sun, curling its way through the rise of the hills.
‘You’re deep in thought.’ Bob stood alongside and followed her gaze.
‘It’s so beautiful here,’ Kate said. ‘I want to leave the class and go walking.’
‘Oh, don’t do that, I hear that you’re making progress with a novel.’
Kate turned. ‘Sorry Bob, I was miles away. Yes, I’ve started to write and I have to admit that I’m loving it.’
Bob watched Kate’s eyes light up as she told him about her book.
He didn’t listen to the intrigue of the plot as his thoughts strayed to an earlier conversation.
If Jo’s mission was to help and motivate people, Kate was a shining example of a Boomerville success.
The woman had found her mojo and whether she had a best-seller in her or not, Bob could see that Kate was benefiting tremendously from her time at the hotel.
‘So, what do you think?’ Kate looked expectantly at Bob.
‘Er, I think it’s a winner,’ Bob mumbled. He hadn’t a clue what Kate was talking about. ‘Get it finished as soon as you can.’
‘Do you really think it has potential?’
‘Fabulous plot, darling, let me throw a launch party for you in London.’
‘Oh, that’s light years away. I’d have to write and finish the manuscript and find a publisher.’
‘Well, I have contacts; give me a copy when you’ve finished.’
Bob thought of the many events that Anthony hosted at his theatre for authors and publishers. It was never what you knew in the business, more who you knew and how to get to them.
James joined them and welcomed Bob to the class.
‘It’s great to see you,’ he said. ‘The morning is generally a tutorial with students free to do their own thing in the afternoon. I help wherever I can.’ James looked at Kate.
‘This lady is an inspiration; showing us what one might get out of the course. She’s begun a novel. ’
Bob had a tingly feeling in his wrist and reached out to stroke his prayer beads as he watched James speak about Kate. Kate, meanwhile, had opened her laptop and began to arrange her notepad and pen, oblivious to the adoration that shone from her tutor’s eyes.
The man is besotted! Bob thought as he watched James. Bob felt like an intruder as waves of desire vibrated in an aura so strong that he had to steady himself by holding on to the back of a chair.
‘Come and sit down and we’ll get started,’ James said and indicated that Bob join the class. As Kate turned, James held out a chair and made sure that she was comfortable.
The plot thickens, Bob thought as he watched the performance. How interesting! The tingle in his wrist began to subside and he muttered a prayer to his own precious gods as he looked forward to the day ahead.
* * *
Hattie sat in reception and stared at a list of names pinned to her clipboard.
The outing to the Indian restaurant that evening was popular and she had limited the number of seats.
Boomerville would be half-empty and Sandra, whose menu and the satisfaction of her diners was a matter of great pride, had cursed Hattie for stealing the residents away.
Hattie could hear the sounds of pots crashing beyond the kitchen door.
Biddu, Hattie’s friend and the owner of the Bengal Balti in Marland, had promised a banquet fit for a king and Hattie smiled in anticipation as she thought about mountains of tender meat falling off the bone into an aromatic sauce.
She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.
Images of sweet onions gently sautéed with garlic, turmeric and garam masala swirled through Hattie’s imagination as she licked her lips and mentally dipped a soft, warm naan into a dish of delicious Balti then into her welcoming mouth.
‘You look like a goldfish.’ Jo leaned over the desk and stared at her friend. ‘Can you close your mouth or are you hoping for breakfast by osmosis?’
Startled, Hattie sat up.
‘Bleedin’ hell, Jo, you nearly gave me a heart attack.’ Hattie’s clipboard fell to one side. ‘Do you have to creep up on folk?’
Jo ignored her. No point in explaining to Hattie that she was on a reception desk, a public place that required an alert member of staff.
‘Have you had anything to eat?’
‘I had a snack earlier but I’m giving the kitchen a wide berth. Sandra is cursing me.’
Hattie, having polished off the buffet in the Rose Room when the breakfast guests had departed to their classes, pulled a face and rubbed her tummy.
‘I’ll go and order a bacon buttie,’ Jo said and turned to open the kitchen door. ‘Coffee too?’
‘Aye, plenty of sugar. I’m feeling weak.’
Hattie pulled her chair under the desk and picked up a pen. She began to check that everyone had paid in advance for their meal and transport that evening.
‘Just Sir Henry to cough up,’ Hattie said when Jo returned. ‘I’m surprised that Hugo isn’t going. I thought the dinner would have been right up his street.’
‘Perhaps he prefers Sandra’s cooking,’ Jo replied. She placed two mugs of coffee on the desk.
‘Good job some bugger does!’ A hand curled around the door as Sandra held out a plate stacked with bacon sandwiches. ‘This’ll keep tha going ’til your Indian nosh tonight.’
The door closed with a bang.
‘I think you might have upset her.’
‘State the bleedin’ obvious, why don’t you.’
‘What’s the transport tonight?’ Jo asked.
‘William’s Wheels.’ Hattie dabbed at a trail of tomato ketchup on her chin.
‘I thought he retired years ago?’
‘Aye, but he’s bringing a vehicle back to life as a favour for me.’
In days gone by, William’s company had been the transport of choice for the Westmarland elite and many an outing to the races at York and Cartmel, or a social county event, had been catered by William’s fleet.
‘His coaches should be in a museum.’
‘Like most of our residents,’ Hattie said as she eyed the last sandwich. ‘Are you eating that?’
‘No, you go ahead.’
Hattie continued to munch as she perused the total revenue for the trip. ‘We’ll make a decent profit tonight, so never mind lost money in the dining room. Biddu has given me a cracking deal on the Balti.’
‘Well, as long as William gets us there and back safely and the guests have a memorable meal.’ Jo picked up the mugs and plate. ‘Don’t forget to do a list for the wholesaler for our Indian evening; it’ll come around quickly and I don’t want to leave everything to the last minute.’
‘Got your outfit?’
‘No, I’m not sure what I’ll wear.’
‘We’ll be like a couple of Bollywood Belles.’ Hattie grinned. ‘I can see this as a regular event.’
‘I’m not sure Boomerville is ready for that.’
‘I might set up a couple of belly-dancing classes to warm everyone up.’
Jo sighed. Hattie’s imagination was running wild as usual and there was no saying where it might go. ‘Let’s just enjoy the evening tonight, then plan carefully ahead.’ She turned to go into the kitchen.
‘We certainly will plan carefully,’ Hattie whispered with a smile.