Chapter Twenty-Two #2
‘I’m going to make a speech.’
‘Aye, well don’t go on for too long. This lot have a tendency to fall asleep if not constantly stimulated.’ Hattie looked at Hugo who, catching her eye, blew her a kiss.
‘The outside diners don’t need to hear it but make sure they all get cake and champagne when they’ve had their main course.’
‘Leave it with me,’ Hattie said.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Jo began and Hattie banged a fork against a glass. ‘Could I have your attention for a moment.’
‘Keep it down in the kiln!’ Hattie nodded towards Bob and the room hushed as conversation trailed off.
Expectant faces turned to Jo.
‘I just want to say a huge thanks,’ Jo began.
‘You’re a special group of people because you’re the first guests to have come to our newly revamped hotel.
Sir Henry and Hugo remember us from the days when we were purely residential but now, with the very recent addition of many courses and classes to stimulate and entertain, Boomerville is a brand-new place which we hope will give you all a new lease of life and purpose when you leave us. ’
‘Hear, hear!’ Sir Henry called out and held up his cane.
‘This was a massive experiment. I had no idea if it would work or not. But with Hattie’s help and encouragement over the last few weeks since opening, it seems to be doing just fine.
’ Jo turned and smiled at Hattie who had taken a little bow as waiting staff placed glasses of champagne on everyone’s table.
‘We may be getting older, but we’re just getting better and you, as a group, are proving this. Anything is possible if we have the courage to try new things.’
‘Well said, darling!’ Bob cried.
‘We have talent pouring out of our studios from budding authors to artists and creatives experimenting in a host of new projects. Who knows where all this will lead.’
‘Especially if you take a trip with the Shaman . . .’ Lucinda drawled.
‘So please raise your glasses in celebration and a toast to yourselves.’ Jo beamed at the group. ‘You are all official members of the First Boomerville Club, and I hope that you’ll spread the word and go on to very great things.’
‘Cheers!’ the boomers cried out. ‘To the First Boomerville Club!’
Jo and Hattie were engulfed as guests shuffled to their feet, pushed back chairs and raised their glasses, then moved around the room to congratulate each other and embrace.
‘Bring the cake out?’ Hattie asked above the noise as she ducked and dived, conscious that Hugo had left his seat and was heading in her direction.
‘Absolutely,’ Jo said and turned to Sandra.
Resplendent in a fresh white jacket and chef’s hat, Sandra held a magnificent cake on a large flat board.
It was modelled in the shape of the hotel with sugar caricatures of Jo and Hattie either side of the front door.
A large sparkler was placed to one side, which a waiter lit as Sandra stepped into the centre of the room.
‘Hurrah!’ the residents called out and began to clap their hands.
What happened next happened so quickly that in the ensuing melee it was difficult to establish exactly what had gone wrong.
Suddenly Sandra, who had been pushed from behind, let go of the cake and it flew across the room. The cake landed on Lucinda who’d knelt down to talk to Sir Henry and, as it broke into a shower of fruity pieces in the old boy’s lap, the sparkler ignited Lucinda’s hair.
‘Bleedin’ hell!’ Hattie cried and, grabbing an ice bucket, upturned it on Lucinda’s head. The crowd gasped as Lucinda, with chunks of ice and a deluge of cold water pouring down her face, fell onto Sir Henry.
Hugo, who leapt up as the cake made its aerial descent, caught the figurines. ‘Gotcha!’ he roared, shaking the quivering models of Jo and Hattie in each hand.
Behind Sandra, a woman, unknown to the onlookers, began to scream obscenities in French.
‘Où est ce batard?’ she cried, forcing her way through the astonished boomers, peering into their faces with a maniacal stare. ‘Où est-il?’
In the Rose Room, James felt his body tense.
He recognised the cry coming from the commotion next door. ‘Stay where you are,’ he ordered Jack. ‘Look after Desiree.’ He flung his napkin to one side, pushed back his chair and ran into the Panel Room.
‘It’s all your fault!’ the woman cried out as she saw James. ‘Why,’ she slurred, ‘why can’t you let him ’ave ’is freedom? He’s too young to be sh’tied down!’
As she lunged for James, with lightning reactions, Pete and Andy leapt to their feet. They pinned her arms behind her back and held on tight.
Helen blinked and glared at James.
Hattie, who had leapt to Lucinda’s aid, stopped what she was doing and hissed, ‘Get her out of here!’
Jo was helping guests back to their seats and when she saw James she called out, ‘My house, through the door behind you!’
James pitched forward. Helen was staggering and he picked up her feet as Pete and Andy propelled her ahead. In moments, they’d manhandled her through the Panel Room door and into Jo’s lounge.
Jack stood in the restaurant and stared at the door as it closed.
‘It’s all right, Jack,’ Jo said softly and touched the young man’s arm. ‘Let your dad deal with it.’
Jack looked at Jo. His eyes were full of pain as he turned and went back to Desiree.
‘More drinks for everyone,’ Hattie said and, with a hefty tug, removed the bucket from Lucinda’s head. She winced as the smell of singed hair wafted across the room.
‘I shall sue!’ Lucinda yelled. She was purple with rage. ‘Just look at my hair!’ She pulled at her straggly wet locks, which were considerably shorter on one side.
‘I think it rather suits you, old girl.’ Sir Henry chuckled as he flicked the last of the fruit cake off his lap. ‘Damn fine cake,’ he said and popped a piece into his mouth.
As the disturbance died down and normal service resumed, guests returned to their seats and desserts were served. Lucinda, with a full bottle of champagne on the table before her, sat with Sir Henry. He stroked her knee in a comforting way, as she tied back her hair and gazed into his eyes.
‘She’s too pissed to remember,’ Hattie said to herself. ‘And we can send her to Hair and Beauty in the morning.’
Jo appeared and stood beside Hattie. They gazed around the room. ‘Did that really just happen?’ Jo asked.
‘What?’ Hattie said. ‘Was there an incident?’ She reached out and tucked her arm into Jo’s. ‘Welcome to the First Boomerville Club.’