Chapter Thirty-Four
Jo sat in the Green Room and drummed her fingers along the arm of her chair. The storm continued to rage, like a thousand hounds wailing in the night, and she tried to appear outwardly calm but inside she was in turmoil.
Guests sat together and no one seemed able to speak, their fears growing, held prisoner by the terrifying weather.
Jo’s anxiety was escalating by the minute.
She stood up and went over to the window, pulling a curtain to one side.
Thunder rolled across the village rooftops and a streak of silver split the sky as the downpour pounded the countryside and water shimmered on the drive.
Jo prayed that her guests didn’t look out or sense her fear and she wondered where the hell Hattie had got to.
She was tempted to go and find her but, if truth be told, Jo was too scared to creep about on her own in the dark and knew that she had to put a brave face on for the boomers, who were discussing the weather and lack of power, wondering how long it would last and if they were to be kept from their bedrooms all night.
Bunty bounced around the room, tail wagging as she went from one group to another, enjoying strokes and cuddles in abundance.
Jo smiled with a confidence she didn’t feel as she mingled, assuring them that the storm would soon abate.
Earlier, she’d fumbled her way to reception and managed to find a pile of old blankets left by Hattie.
The doggy smelling covers had come in useful again and she tucked the wool around the shoulders and legs of her guests.
Despite the warmth of the fire, Jo sensed that their ageing bones were beginning to feel the creeping cold.
Hypothermia was all she needed.
The door opened and James poked his head into the room. He caught Jo’s attention and she followed him into the hall.
Kate stood beside James. They both looked anxious.
‘The weather is getting worse and it’s flooding the drive,’ James said.
Jo looked out at a lake of water where a howling wind whipped up crests of white.
‘Oh goodness, I wish Pete was here.’ Jo rubbed her forehead. ‘I didn’t realise that it was rising so fast. What on earth should we do?’
‘Get tha’ selves on a higher floor!’
A voice boomed out and they turned to see a flashlight swinging an arc of light along the hallway.
A figure appeared. It was Alf, complete with rubber waders.
‘The cellar is three-foot high in water and I canna contain it,’ he said.
‘The generator is sodden and wrecked.’ He turned to James.
‘There’s sandbags in the store by the kitchen and we’d best get them piled against the doors.
We haven’t got long.’ A damp roll-up hung off his lips and bobbed as he spoke.
Jo was relieved to see Alf but realised that the hotel was about to flood and with no lights they needed to move fast.
‘Use this and get the guests upstairs, keep everyone together,’ Alf instructed. He handed the flashlight to Jo and, reaching for a collection of battery-operated torches from the top pockets of his shirt, handed them to James and Kate. ‘You come with me and get started on the sandbags.’
Jo grabbed the flashlight. If she wasn’t careful, pandemonium would break out and she needed to keep everyone calm, but they had to know what was happening.
She opened the door of the Green Room and stepped in.
‘Alf has just advised me that there may be flooding on the ground floor and we should all stick together and go up to the first floor where we’ll be safe. ’
The guests suddenly saw the seriousness of their situation.
Many allowed themselves to be ushered upstairs but others, insisting on helping too, formed a human chain and these boomers began to assist James, Kate and Alf as they manhandled the sandbags and piled them around the ground floor doorways.
The dark hampered their progress and, as they battled on, water poured over the carpets and rose at an alarming rate.
‘It’s no good,’ Alf called out, ‘get tha’ selves out of here, we canna cope with these levels, it’s rising too quickly.’ He ushered everyone along the hallway and was the last to leave the ground floor as everyone gathered on the gallery at the top of the stairs.
They stared out of the windows overlooking the driveway and watched the waters rising.
Jo held Bunty in her arms and with telephone lines down, reached for her mobile to call the emergency services for the umpteenth time. The call was intermittent and when she eventually got through, the operator gave strict instructions to remain on the upper floors and wait for help to arrive.
But there was no telling when that might be.
The whole area around the hotel was now under water.
The River Bevan had broken its banks and the road bridge in the village had been swept away.
There was carnage outside where the flood raged, sending driftwood and rubbish thundering like a tsunami under the pressure of the worst storm seen in the county for decades.
Jo looked around. She’d expected to find Hugo, Hattie, Bob and Lucinda on the gallery and was dismayed to see that they were still missing.
Hopefully, they would have the sense to stick together, somewhere safe.
She saw that James and Kate had found bottles of water in the housekeeping store, which they were distributing with pillows and quilts.
They worked together to help make everyone as comfortable and warm as possible.
Candle and lamp lights flickered in the rooms of the cottages and houses surrounding the village green and as Jo looked out, she could see people huddled in their windows.
The village was elevated and fortunately not in the dip by the river, where the hotel was located.
With any luck the flood wouldn’t reach those properties but here, at Boomerville, they were in danger.
Jo began to pray.
She willed whoever was in charge above to ensure that everyone stayed safe and that help, in whatever form it might take, was somehow making its way to Boomerville.
Oh, where on earth could Hattie be? Jo was now fearful for her friend and she turned to look at the guests, who clung to each other as they looked out at the storm.
Jo wished that there was something she could do.
She held Bunty tightly and as she nuzzled into the warm fur, she glanced over the banisters and down into the stairwell, where Alf stood on the bottom step.
The water had risen to his knees.
Alf looked up and their eyes met. Jo raised her eyebrows in question and as he gave a shrug in return, she realised that Alf had the fingers of both hands crossed. She turned to James and Kate and, kissing Bunty on her soft silky head, thrust the puppy into their arms.
‘Where are you going?’ Kate asked.
‘I’ve got to find Hattie.’
‘Not without me.’ James turned to two ladies sitting together on the floor. ‘Can you look after Bunty?’ he said and placed the puppy in their arms.
‘Nor me,’ Kate said and grabbed James by the hand.
Jo hitched up her skirt and headed down the stairs until she reached Alf’s side.
Alf took Jo’s hand and turned to James and Kate. ‘Follow closely,’ he said.