Chapter 7
Present
Rae woke early the following Saturday morning.
Still unburdened by any great idea that might save the hotel from the financial ruin it very much looked like it was facing.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have mentioned anything to Siggy, but she’d kept it light, purposefully so her niece would not worry.
There was only one person she truly wanted to tell, but of course, Blythe was also the one person she couldn’t imagine facing with the news that things were as bleak as they seemed.
Missing Blythe had become a dull ache in her a long time ago, but even then, it was already too late, now that Marcus was gone, she couldn’t go crawling back to her sister, there was far too much water under the bridge for that.
Their relationship had broken, in a way that while there were no obvious cracks, Rae could not fathom how to mend it.
For fifteen years, it had withered slowly, it was still dying from the roots up.
Blythe had always been the hotelier among them.
Well, she and Marcus.
But of course, Marcus wasn’t here now and look what had happened without him.
How many times had she wondered, what might have happened if he hadn’t strolled into her life all those years ago – would she have made a better life for herself?
Well, if the last year had shown her anything, it was – probably not.
In the eighteen months since he’d died, she had allowed – no, more like she had fostered the drying up of the business.
It should be no surprise that she was deep in debt with no real way out, not in time to make payments to the bank, the council and the tax man at any rate, and yet, somehow it all felt unreal.
Honestly, maybe it wouldn’t come as such a huge surprise to Blythe when she eventually told her, and Rae wondered, which was worse, the distance between them or the inevitable disappointment she would see in Blythe’s eyes.
She had to do something. She couldn’t go crying to Blythe, not after all that had happened over the years, she just couldn’t face the humiliation of it.
Instead of twisting her thoughts in a spiral that was getting her nowhere, and because the sun was up and a light breeze was whipping creamy froth on the waves, she decided to take a good bracing walk along the beach.
Again, as always, she felt sad as she set out that she didn’t have a dog to take along with her.
She’d always wanted one. She sighed now, felt that familiar longing as she watched a russet spaniel break free from his owner a few yards ahead.
Marcus was always adamant, you can’t have cats or dogs in a hotel.
That’s what Marcus said at any rate, and she knew, there was no room for discussion about it.
As she strolled through the still sleeping village, she felt that familiar ache for company – is it possible to mourn for the four-legged companions you’ve never had? Rae had felt these pangs regularly over the years. It was just another thing she’d sacrificed for the Hope Square Hotel.
She was resigned to the fact that she would be remembered by the kids on the island as that slightly potty lady who knelt and spoke to every cat and dog she met on her travels.
Today the wind was heavy with the odour of bracken and seaweed.
Its salty flavour rested on her lips, so by the time she turned at the end of the beach, she felt ravenous for her breakfast and a good cup of coffee.
The walk back was punctuated with calling seagulls, watching herons and a group of black guillemots who were busily working the shoreline.
As she neared the pier, she spotted an unfamiliar figure, standing and looking out to sea. It was, she could see as she got closer, a woman, dressed in what looked like a cloak made of gold and rusty red.
‘Hello,’ Rae said as she walked up the steps.
‘You had a good walk,’ the woman said, her accent was thick, but her English was perfect.
‘I had an early one.’ Rae laughed. The coffee shack was just opening for business. ‘I’m hoping that Surfer Dude will make me a strong hot coffee, do you fancy one?’
‘Sure, thanks,’ the woman said and when their coffees were ready, they turned back to look at the vastness of the ocean once more. ‘I’m Melissa Val, by the way, I’ve moved into the old McDaid cottage.’ She said the name as if she was trying it on for size.
‘Oh, you’re our newest resident, how marvellous,’ Rae said then, thrilled to have someone new living in the village.
Rae loved all the newcomers. They brought much needed vibrancy.
They tended to be hippies mostly, or at least, they didn’t strike Rae as typical nine to fivers.
They wore colourful clothes that were the opposite of fast fashion and most of them had some craft business on the go.
None of them spent much time or money in the hotel and Marcus had detested them for that – among other things he never fully named.
Secretly, Rae envied them a lifestyle that did not run by a rigid timetable.
She loved browsing their homemade art, jewellery and pottery stalls on market days.
They were, as far as Rae was concerned, a healthy dose of vitality on the island – and here now, Melissa Val in her wonderfully colourful robes, with all the trappings about her of a place that Rae would never get the chance to see, well it was simply marvellous.
‘What on earth brought you to Pin Hill?’ she asked after they had chatted for a while.
‘Basically, it’s a long way from Mauritania.’ The woman laughed, but there was no humour in the sound.
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘It’s okay. Things are just a bit raw for me still. I came with my grandson; we left everything behind…’
‘Your children are…’
‘My only son was… well, he died a year ago. It’s just the two of us now.’ She smiled sadly and Rae was struck by the quiet dignity of the woman, her sadness was palpable and yet, here she was, still standing, still gracious. This was genuine grief, beautiful, despite its unsettling rawness.
‘Well, I hope you’re settling in well,’ Rae held up her cup in cheers.
‘I’m not sure everyone is as glad to see us as you are…’ Melissa said thoughtfully.
‘Oh, don’t worry, some of the locals can be a bit funny about newcomers, but they’ll get over it. Mostly, when people come here, they settle outside the village, so you’re going to be a bit of a novelty, for a while.’
Of course, there had always been newcomers.
Her own grandmother had been a blow-in. Gisela B?cker had been on the point of leaving when she had fallen in love with Pappy.
No one wanted a German girl in 1946 – but Pappy adored her and somehow, against the wishes of everyone around them, they’d made it through.
When Pappy had been dying, Rae had a feeling it was his darling Gisela’s name he had on his lips in those final breaths.
It was strange then that Blythe had never liked the idea of newcomers to the island. Far from holding out a hand of welcome, as the descendants of an immigrant, Blythe was harsh in her judgement of any outsiders who decided to settle on the island.
*
By the time she returned to the hotel, Siggy had already opened for the day.
It wasn’t her job, of course, she still had another year in the local secondary school and Blythe normally kept her busy at their guest house, but it seemed more often, Siggy liked to escape to the hotel.
Rae was always glad to see her. It was one of her biggest regrets, that Marcus had scuppered her relationship with her niece for so many years.
Now, they were revelling in a connection that was as much friendship as kinship.
Of course, it helped that the hotel was in the centre of the village.
Still Water House, on the other hand, was literally in the middle of nowhere, at least here you were likely to bump into villagers occasionally.
‘Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,’ she said as Siggy switched on the espresso machine and pulled out two large pastries she’d bought in the nearby bakery.
‘I’ve been trying to think up ideas to save your bacon,’ Siggy really didn’t understand the full extent of danger that the hotel was actually in.
‘All saving is gratefully received.’ Rae sat down, unwinding the long scarf from around her neck and hanging it across one of the high stools. They had the place to themselves, the next rush might come after morning mass – or it might not, of course.
‘I’m here to serve.’ She swung around to the outside of the counter but as they ate their pastries, she was uncharacteristically silent and Rae found herself wondering, if perhaps she’d come here for some other reason.
She knew better than to ask if there had been a row with Blythe. The last thing she wanted was to get in the middle of that, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel something was amiss.
The hotel foyer ran the full length of the front of the building, so it included the reception desk and the bar, which was also the dining/breakfast room as well as the coffee shop.
It was large enough to be multipurpose, small enough to be cosy and easy to manage unless there was an unexpected crowd – which didn’t happen often anymore.
‘Siggy, what on earth are you doing here? I thought you were off to meet some of your friends to study?’ Blythe seemed to appear from nowhere these days.
When Marcus was alive, she had a knack of turning up when he was at his Knights of Saint Columbanus meetings, or when he went out with the local rambling group.
She hardly ever called when he was likely to be here.
This morning, Blythe was carrying a huge bunch of flowers.
‘The peonies are gone mad at home, far too many for me to use in the guest house and I thought, why waste them…’ She put the massive bouquet down on the bar counter.
Looked at Siggy, ‘Well, since you’re here, make yourself useful, go get a vase – actually, you might need a few vases.
’ Then she smiled at Rae, ‘Sorry, honestly, I’m not trying to dump them on you; I remembered those amazing flower displays you used to do.
’ She dropped into the stool next to Rae.
‘Do you remember them, people would come in from all over the island, just to see them…’ she laughed now, for once she was light-hearted, back to being the Blythe that Rae had adored when they were kids.
‘That was so long ago,’ Rae said dully. Then she looked at the bouquet, ‘These are amazing, Blythe, thank you, they’ll really cheer the place up.
’ She bent over them to sniff their scent.
‘Heaven,’ she said then. ‘The gardens in Still Water must be beautiful these days.’ It was funny how the tables had turned.
There was a time, they couldn’t keep on top of the grounds at the house, but Pappy had kept the large garden at the back of the hotel in perfect order.
Now, the hotel garden had been dug up and put back together badly.
It looked like that movie, where kids dug all day long, except she had the council to thank for the damage.
‘I’m sure Kip wouldn’t mind popping over to give you a hand, you know, out there,’ Blythe nodded towards the back of the hotel.
‘Ah, that’s really sweet, but even if it was perfectly landscaped, what with running this place on my own, I’d never have the time to properly maintain it,’ Rae said.
‘Will these do?’ Siggy was back with two large cut glass vases. They were as old as Blythe, probably, but they’d do the job.
‘Perfect, darling,’ Blythe said and they watched as Siggy arranged the flowers into the two jars.
‘Where do you want them, Rae?’
‘One on the bar and one on the reception desk,’ Blythe said before Rae had a chance to answer. She blushed slightly, ‘Sorry, old habits die hard. I’m usually directing things in the guest house.’
‘Your mother is right, the bar and the reception desk,’ Rae said softly.
‘You were meant to go and get your hair cut, young lady,’ Blythe flicked out Siggy’s hair as she passed.
‘I know, I know, but I just didn’t have time.’ Siggy made a face.
‘Well, if you and Rae want to go together, that might be nice,’ Blythe said and Rae had a feeling that it was more about her hair than it was about Siggy’s.
‘Actually, I’m thinking of getting a colour,’ Rae said then, because she would not rise to whatever bait Blythe had unconsciously laid for her.
‘Oh, that would be a nice lift. I’ve often wondered if you’d think of covering over the grey,’ Blythe said, touching her own regularly coloured hair.
‘Would you go some mad colour? I mean, green or blue or really pink-pink?’ Siggy had her own sense of humour.
‘I might,’ Rae said, keeping a poker face.
‘Oh, please don’t. Don’t become one of those women with cookie monster hair and no bra, we have enough of that type already running about the island.’ Blythe rolled her eyes.
‘I was thinking royal blue,’ Rae made a play at admiring herself in the mirror behind the bar opposite.
‘I’m sorry I mentioned it now.’ Blythe was starting to seethe.
‘I’m only joking.’ Rae pushed against her. ‘Do you really think I have the time to spend sitting in a hairdressers getting colour topped up every few weeks?’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ Blythe muttered. ‘Still though, a nice mahogany colour would soften you out, you’re much too young to be grizzled.’
‘Thanks so much, I didn’t realise I was…’ Rae smiled. Her sister had never been a woman to hold back.
‘You know what I mean… you’re still pretty, you should be making something of yourself.’ Blythe harrumphed and when Siggy caught Rae’s eye, they both burst out laughing.