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A Place of Her Own

Page 12

by Barnes, Miranda


  ‘Probably. Been in the family a long time. Anyway, settled in all right?’

  ‘Yes, thanks. It’s very… comfortable.’

  He nodded without much interest and poured the glass of white wine she had requested to go with her meal. As she returned to her table, Henry turned to attend to his other customer.

  ‘The service here is non-existent,’ she heard the customer, a big, burly man, complain. ‘No wonder nobody comes in any more. No wonder the place has gone to the dogs.’

  ‘Nobody comes in, Malcolm, because this place is the back of beyond. It’s the pits. I want to see some bright lights before I die.’

  ‘Tourism booming. More traffic than ever. The Lake District so full you can hardly get in any more – there’s hardly room for my sheep these days. What more do you want?’

  ‘This bit of the Lake District isn’t like that,’ Henry retorted. ‘We’re never full here. This valley is like the Australian Outback – empty.’

  Old sparring partners, Kirsty thought with amusement. Obviously well used to each other.

  She felt a little sorry for Henry. It was a pity if the inn wasn’t doing so well. She had wondered about that when she saw the “For Sale” sign. It really was a shame. She wouldn’t want to see the place full all the time, a queue of coaches at the door, but it was better for everybody when trade was good.

  But already, she thought sadly, she had seen the signs that things were not going so well. Few customers. And the general run-down air of the place. Faded and scruffy wallpaper in her room. Windows that needed replacing. Broken tiles in the bathroom.

  Craig would have hated it here. He would have grimaced as soon as he came through the door and promptly turned round and gone elsewhere, somewhere more luxurious and inviting. She smiled and thought what a good thing it was Craig wasn’t here. He would just have spoiled it for her.

  Because it was still a wonderful old place in a gorgeous setting, even if it wasn’t state-of-the-art or as sparklingly well-kept as she remembered it. It was just in need of sprucing up. That was all. And some TLC. A bit of money spending on it, as well. It was a long time since she had last stayed anywhere with unheated rooms, and she was sure she wasn’t the only guest who would prefer her room to be en-suite. They weren’t luxuries any more. People were used to such things these days. And they expected them.

  Still, if business wasn’t so good, Henry wouldn’t be able to afford to have the work done. That was the end of it. No good him having fancy aspirations he couldn’t afford. No good at all. That way led to poverty street, as her mother might have said. She smiled at the thought.

  ‘Good evening.’

  She looked round and smiled again, this time at the tall, slim man taking his place at a nearby table.

  ‘Take my advice,’ he added. ‘Be sure to sit well away from the door and wear two jumpers when you come in here. It’s always cold and draughty till someone gets round to livening up the fire.’

  ‘Take no notice of him,’ Carol called from the other side of the room. ‘Bob’s always complaining about something.’

  ‘And you always give me plenty to complain about,’ the man rejoined.

  ‘Ha! We’re trying to persuade you to stay away, but you just don’t take the hint.’

  Kirsty chuckled. ‘You must know this place well?’ she suggested.

  Bob nodded and looked grave for a moment, as though it were unfortunate but true. ‘The food’s not bad, though,’ he added, as if in compensation, before opening a newspaper he had brought to the table with him.

  Kirsty smiled again. She was doing a lot of that, she thought wryly. She must be enjoying herself. Perhaps it had something to do with Craig not being here.

  ‘Actually,’ she added, ‘there was a time when I knew this old place well, too. Or thought I did. I used to come here as a little girl.’

  ‘Before it went to pot? Before Henry got his claws on it?’

  She laughed. ‘Oh, yes. It was lovely then. Always. It is now, as well,’ she added diplomatically.

  Carol arrived from the kitchen with her meal. By the time that was sorted out, Kirsty was disappointed to see that the man at the neighbouring table had disappeared.

  Carol seemed surprised. ‘Now where’s Bob gone?’ she murmured.

  ‘He didn’t say.’

  Carol sighed. ‘Oh, well,’ she said. ‘He must have changed his mind. Perhaps he’s forgotten where he is and thinks we’ll provide room service.’

  Kirsty hoped it wasn’t something she’d said that had made him leave.

  ‘He doesn’t like company,’ Carol added with a grimace, ‘which is probably why he comes here.’

  ‘Am I the only guest?’

  ‘Apart from Bob, yes. At the moment,’ she added. ‘I hope you like it quiet?’

  ‘Oh, I do.’

  ‘You should get on very well with Bob, in that case.’

  ***

  Carol was serving at breakfast the next morning.

  ‘Are you never off duty?’ Kirsty asked.

  ‘Not often, no.’ Carol laughed. ‘We’re short of staff. I don’t mind, though. We’ve got to keep the old place going. Besides, the money’s handy.’

  ‘Am I the only one for breakfast?’

  ‘Just you and Bob. But he’s had his, and he’s away now.’

  ‘Early bird, eh?’

  ‘That’s one name for him. Oh, he’s all right, Bob. We’re used to him. He’s always here.’

  Kirsty was intrigued. It was as if Bob was part of the furniture. ‘Perhaps he doesn’t have a home to go to?’ she suggested.

  ‘No,’ Carol said, without a smile. ‘I don’t believe he does now.’

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