Chapter Forty-One
Claudia
It’s Saturday morning, and when Claudia knocks on the door of room twenty-seven, she’s a little apprehensive about how she’ll be received. This will be twice in two days she’s had to directly intervene with guests facing unexpected issues. Yesterday was the note of condolences to Miranda Vallance. Today she’s checking in on Leonora Neale. According to Andreou on reception, Mrs Neale requested to have a separate room from her husband yesterday, and, as of last night, a certain Frank Neale is now out of the country. There’s a fine line to be drawn between looking after one’s guests and interfering in their business. Claudia hopes she isn’t about to cross it.
‘You’re good at talking to people, Claud,’ Dimitris encouraged her when he dropped by her office earlier on and she expressed her concerns. ‘People like you.’
She’s never been good at taking compliments gracefully– she’s wondered before if it’s a residual scar from her ex-marriage, that she doesn’t have the confidence in herself to believe people’s praise. Or maybe it’s simply her Aussie tendency to shrug off any kind of fuss? ‘People like you too,’ she had countered, sitting back in her chair and folding her arms. I like you , she might have added, had she been braver.
‘Yes, when Iam at the bar, maybe, and telling funny stories, but not when they need to talk about difficult, emotional things,’ he’d replied. ‘In a language, that is not my own tongue, too.’ He pantomimed squinting in miscomprehension, making himself look so ridiculously gormless that she snorted in amusement. He shook his head. ‘No, you will do a better job, Ithink. You are a nice person, good at listening.’
Before she could react– more compliments!– he was talking again, as if giving her no room for deflection. ‘By the way, did you hear that he complained about Duska? This Frank Neale?’ he asked. ‘Because she was kind to his wife and he didn’t seem to like that. Yes, on Thursday, when you were off,’ he added, as her eyebrows rose.
‘No way,’ Claudia said, horrified for poor Duska, who’s still finding her feet after her return to work. ‘Ihope you told him where to go.’
Dimitris spread his hands. ‘Alas, he was very drunk, he was not interested in what Ihad to say. Also Ihad no intention of sacking her, like he wanted, so we did not agree on much.’
‘Ican imagine,’ said Claudia drily, checking to see which room Mrs Neale is in.
The door opens in front of her now and she sees a petite, slim woman in a short-sleeved coffee-coloured shirt dress, her silvery hair in a neat bob. She’s probably about the same age as Claudia’s mum, although far more crisp and put-together than jovial, slapdash Barb. ‘Hello?’ she says, her tone not exactly unfriendly, but verging on suspicious.
‘Hi, I’m Claudia, one of the hotel managers,’ she begins. ‘Ijust wanted to check everything’s all right for you in this room, or if you’d rather move back into the suite where you were before?’
‘I’m fine here, thank you,’ the woman replies, a little defensively. Understandably, really; she must have had her absolute fill of people poking their noses into her affairs. But then something in her face changes and she softens a touch. ‘Well– okay, not exactly fine,’ she concedes. ‘But I’ll survive. Worse things happen, don’t they?’
‘Yes,’ Claudia agrees. ‘Although, as my mum would say, misery’s not a competition,’ she ventures after a moment. ‘You can still feel rotten, even if you’re not experiencing the absolute number one worst thing in the world.’
She holds her breath afterwards because, while she’s trying to show empathy, she doesn’t want to come across as dismissing Leonora Neale’s view out of hand, particularly when that woman happens to be a high-paying guest here. But to her relief Mrs Neale smiles. ‘That’s true, Isuppose. Yes. Your mum’s got a point.’ She looks properly at Claudia for the first time. ‘Is that an Australian accent? You’re a long way from home.’
‘Yes,’ Claudia replies, slightly wrong-footed by having the focus redirected back to her. ‘Um. . . So anyway,’ she goes on, ‘Ijust thought I’d check in and make sure everything’s okay. And to let you know that if you need anything, then—’
‘What brought you here to Kefalonia, Claudia? If you don’t mind me asking,’ Mrs Neale interrupts, leaning against the door jamb. ‘Sorry, Ihope that’s not terribly nosey of me,’ she adds quickly. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the future recently, and. . .’ She bites her lip. ‘Ifeel at something of a crossroads.’
In her professional role, this is where Claudia should trot out some sanitised line about wanting the experience of working abroad or challenging herself. She’s never had much of a convincing poker face though. ‘Icame here because. . . well, heartbreak, basically,’ she says, with a self-conscious laugh. ‘The end of a bad marriage, the need to get far away.’ Too late, she hears her own words, and could bite off her tongue in embarrassment. Oh, God. This, to a woman whose own relationship doesn’t appear to be in the greatest of shapes. Talk about tactless.
Leonora Neale nods, though, as if she understands perfectly. ‘Idon’t suppose you have time for a quick coffee, by any chance?’ she asks tentatively. ‘It’s just that. . . Idon’t have anyone else to talk to right now, and I’d appreciate the company. Of course you must be very busy though, so. . .’
‘I’ve got time for a coffee,’ Claudia replies. ‘We could order room service if you’d prefer, or we could venture down to the terrace? It’s not so muggy today, after last night’s storm.’
‘Let’s go out,’ Mrs Neale says. ‘I’ve been cooped up indoors all morning with my own thoughts; Icould do with a change of scenery.’
A few minutes later, the two of them sit down at an empty table on the terrace, and Claudia puts up the large umbrella there before waving to Zoe, one of the waitresses on duty. ‘Zoe, could you bring us– what would you like?’ she asks Mrs Neale, who is studying the drinks menu.
‘An iced coffee would be lovely, please,’ she replies.
‘An iced coffee for Mrs Neale, and– yes, actually, I’ll have the same, please,’ Claudia decides. ‘Thank you.’
‘And thank you ,’ Mrs Neale says to Claudia when the waitress departs. ‘This is very kind of you. Do call me Nelly, by the way.’
Nelly suits her far better than Leonora, Claudia thinks. ‘Right you are, Nelly,’ she replies. ‘So. . .’ She’s not quite sure what to say next but thankfully Nelly plunges right in.
‘Ihope this isn’t weird, me asking you for coffee,’ she begins.
‘Not at all!’ Claudia assures her.
‘But it was you saying about your marriage ending and wanting to get away. . . it struck a chord.’ Nelly exhales, staring down at the table. ‘Idon’t quite know what I’m going to do with myself.’
Claudia nods. ‘It’s difficult,’ she says diplomatically. ‘Iremember feeling completely frozen, with no idea how Icould possibly pick myself back up again. It takes time. Ithink it’s perfectly natural that you feel uncertain at the moment.’
Nelly gives her a little smile, but she looks sad nonetheless. ‘I’ve been with Frank for so many years that Ican’t quite imagine what my life will look like without him,’ she says. ‘But it’s definitely over, our marriage. Iknow that much.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Claudia says. ‘It is a bit Ground Zero at first, isn’t it, coming out of a relationship. Nothing looks the same. But a new life will gradually take shape. You’ll figure out what’s important to you.’ She blushes, feeling something of a fraud to be playing agony aunt to this much older woman, when she definitely hasn’t figured everything out for herself yet. Just then her eye falls on Dimitris, who is heading purposefully across the terrace carrying a toolbox. She still hasn’t plucked up the courage to ask him for that drink. ‘Ionly came here because my Uncle Kostas suggested getting away,’ she confesses. ‘It wasn’t because Ihad some great plan up my sleeve. Although at the time Iremember fretting to my mum that it felt as if Iwas running away, and do you know what she said?’
‘Tell me,’ says Nelly.
‘She said, what if it’s not running away, but running towards ? Towards the next chapter, a new start, an adventure abroad.’ She shrugs. ‘I’m still here anyway, three and a half years later, so it worked out okay for me. The best thing Icould have done, actually.’
‘Good for you,’ says Nelly. ‘Oh, lovely, thank you,’ she adds as Zoe sets down their iced coffees in tall glasses, each with an accompanying miniature honey biscuit in the saucer.
‘Thanks, Zoe,’ Claudia says too.
They’re silent for a moment, sipping their coffees. ‘Is it terrible to admit that Iactually feel rather. . . not relieved ,’ Nelly goes on, ‘but. . . well, certainly not as destroyed as Ithought Iwould? Frank’s gone back to the UK, as I’m sure you’re aware, and for the first time in years it’s not my job to look after him. And of course, Istill care about him, and Ihope he’s going to be okay, but nonetheless it’s as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.’ She grimaces at her own words. ‘Oh dear, that sounds callous, doesn’t it? Really disloyal and heartless.’
‘It doesn’t,’ Claudia tells her. ‘Not at all. Sometimes you don’t realise how much you’ve been carrying, emotionally, Imean, until it’s gone.’ Her mind has snagged on something, though, taking her momentarily out of the conversation. As if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Someone else has said this to her recently, but who?
‘Exactly,’ Nelly replies. ‘Frank was always the star player in our relationship, and both of our lives revolved around him. And now. . . Ifeel a little bit at sea, to be honest, like I’ve lost my compass and don’t know where I’m going.’ She smiles to herself about something. ‘Do you know, the last time Iwas in this part of the world, forty or so years ago, Iactually was at sea, with a very handsome young Greek man, on his yacht.’
‘Now you’re talking,’ Claudia says enthusiastically, and they both laugh.
‘Iwas a lot bolder back then,’ Nelly replies. ‘Impulsive too. Left everything behind for the sake of adventure, followed my heart.’
‘Oh yes ,’ Claudia says. ‘Good for you, Nelly. So should we be on the lookout for another handsome Greek yacht-owner, perhaps. . . ?’
Nelly laughs again. It’s nice to see her looking less drawn and anxious, even if only for a few moments. Claudia is glad she made the effort to knock on her door. ‘Idon’t think so,’ Nelly says, and her eyes crinkle as she adds, ‘More’s the pity, eh?’ She smiles again, then drains her iced coffee and gets to her feet. ‘I’d better let you get on,’ she says, ‘but thank you so much for giving me your time. Here’s to running towards something new. Maybe even something better.’
‘Absolutely,’ says Claudia. ‘Good luck, Nelly. If you ever need to talk again, you just let me know.’
Nelly walks away looking considerably less jaded than she did earlier. Her words about having a weight lifted from her shoulders come back to Claudia once more, and she frowns. It’s really bugging her because she knows someone has used those words to her recently, and that there’s a reason why her subconscious is prompting her to remember. Then the pieces click into place, and her eyes widen.
‘Oh my God,’ she mutters under her breath. Then she hurries towards her office.