To Face The Past

by Karen Abbott

  To Face The Past

  by

  Karen Abbott

  Originally published 2003 by D.C. Thomson & Co., Ltd.,

  185 Fleet Street, London EC4A 2HS

  First Linford Edition published 2004 by F. A. Thorpe (Publishing)

  Anstey, Leicestershire. LE7 7FU

  Copyright © 2004 and 2005 by Karen Abbott

  All rights reserved

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher. Nor be otherwise circulated in any form other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Published by Karen Abbott 2011

  Eva Cunningham thought she had moved on since her devastating divorce from Matt Talbot three years ago but, when their paths cross again as newly appointed joint assistant managers of a struggling hotel in south Wales, she is forced to re-evaluate her feelings. However, Matt seems determined to date every female on the hotel staff - except her! And who is behind the perplexing incidents that threaten the hotel’s future?

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  About The Author

  Author’s Books

  Chapter One

  Eva Cunningham looked at the low black clouds with dislike. This wasn’t how she had imagined her first approach to the Glan-Yr-Avon Hotel ... her first visit to south Wales in fact.

  She had imagined blue sky, green grass and vivid blue sea, just as the hotel sold itself in the brochure. The brochure said nothing about black clouds, strong winds and torrential rain.

  As a flash of lightening lit up the sky she involuntarily glanced up at the soft-top roof of her MG sports car, hoping she had closed it correctly. It was her first brand new car and was a beauty. She patted the steering wheel affectionately. It handled beautifully and her long drive down from Lancashire had been a pleasure ... until the last few miles, when the sky had darkened dramatically, followed by this unceasing torrential downpour of rain.

  Her windscreen wipers were on full power. Even so, the rainwater distorted her vision. She peered through the wind-screen. How much further was it? Three miles out of Cardigan on the southern headland, the brochure had said. She must have come over half of that distance already.

  Her interview had been held in the Hilton Hotel in Manchester, a mere twenty miles from her home. A bluff, genial man of late middle years named William Dagnall had been the chairperson. His bald head was as shiny as the toes of his shoes! She had quite taken to his manner. He was direct … but politely so … and had listened attentively to her questions at the end of the interview. She knew she had interviewed well and was pleased to have received her letter of acceptance at the end of the week.

  Now, here she was! Or, almost!

  A drenched figure standing by the side of the road raised a hand to attract her attention. She wasn’t in the habit of giving lifts to unknown people … but the atrocious weather made her pull over and lower the passenger window.

  “Can I help you?” she enquired.

  “You bet!”

  Eva could see now that it was a young woman, well-covered for the weather in rain-proofs, holding a heavy canvas valise in her hand. The small amount of hair showing from under the hood of her jacket was plastered to her forehead and rainwater was dripping off the end of her nose and chin as she leaned forward to make her reply.

  “Are you going as far as the Glan-Yr-Avon Hotel, by any chance?” the young woman asked hopefully. “There were no buses to catch from St. Dogmaels and I didn’t think it was far enough to warrant a taxi! I should have taken more notice of the weather forecast, shouldn’t I?”

  Eva leaned across the seat and undid the door. “At least you are dressed for it. Hop in.”

  She looked about twenty or so years of age; quite pretty now that she had flung back her hood and had turned to smile her thanks to Eva. Her long brown hair, worn in a loose style, curled slightly at the ends.

  “Thanks! You’ve saved my sanity! I thought it was bad enough to be starting a new job on a day like this, without arriving soaking wet … and late as well!”

  Eva let out the gears and continued to drive along the road. “Are you starting work at the Glan-yr-Avon?”

  “Yes. Have you heard of it? I’m really excited about it! I was in a dead-end job in Cardiff, so I’m hoping to do well here.”

  “Mmm, me too,” Eva smiled at the younger girl. “My name is Eva Cunningham. And yours?”

  “Tricia Gornall. I’m to work on Reception for the time being. And what’s your job, then?”

  “Assistant manager.”

  “Ooh, posh, eh?”

  Eva noticed that a note of envy had crept into Tricia’s voice. She shrugged slightly, dropping down into third and then second gear as she saw the white, arched entrance to the hotel grounds on her right, looming out of the rain and accompanying sea mist.

  The force of the wind increased as they drove down the private driveway. The hotel was positioned very near the top of the cliffs in this wide estuary of the river. An ideal site in summer … but maybe a little too exposed in the other seasons. Beautiful, though. There was no doubt about that.

  Eva followed the sweep of the drive heading for the colonnaded main entrance. She supposed in future she would have to get used to driving round to the rear to the staff car park she could see beyond the kitchen ... but, for today, the shortest distance to run for cover was preferable. A cyclist was just ahead, battling head down against the wind and rain. As Eva’s car drew level, a gust of wind lifted the bicycle and its rider off-course, right into the side of the car.

  Eva’s foot jumped onto the brake, thankful that she had been going slowly. The cycle and rider disappeared out of sight at the passenger side of her car.

  “Stay where you are, Tricia, in case the cyclist is trapped against the door!”

  She leaped out of her car, heedless of the rain. The figure was already struggling to her feet, looking totally fazed out by the near accident.

  “I’m all right! I’m all right!” she was saying over and over, as if to convince herself of the fact. “I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to ride into you. The wind is strong! It just took hold of me!”

  “I know. It’s all right. Don’t be upsetting yourself. Are you hurting anywhere?”

  “No, miss. At least, just my knee and my hand.” The girl ruefully looked at the grazed back of her right hand. “I’m sorry! I bet I gave you a fright, didn’t I? My mam is always telling me to be more careful.”

  “No-one can help being blown over by the wind,” Eva assured her, striving to put the girl at her ease. “Though maybe a bicycle wasn’t the best form of transport for a day like today.”

  “I’ve nothing else,” the girl bemoaned. “And look at my knee! I’ve ripped through my tights … and it’s my first day, too!”

  “Never mind. I’ve got some spares I can let you have,” Eva promised her. “Can you walk all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine, honestly.” She leaned over to pick up her bike. “Oh, look, the front wheel’s bent. What a mess! And I’ve scratched your car, miss. Will it cost a lot to put right?” She sounded anxious.

&
nbsp; Eva had already noticed the scratch but saw no point in bemoaning it. “Don’t you worry about it. I’ll claim it off my insurance. Now, let’s be getting you inside out of this rain. I’ll park my car over there and come back to you. All right?”

  “Yes, miss.”

  Now thoroughly soaked through, Eva got back into her car and parked it as near to the main entrance as possible. She waited until Tricia had climbed out and run head-down towards the entrance before getting out herself, regretting that she hadn’t got her waterproofs handy. She pulled the smaller of her two bags out of the boot and, pausing only to lock the door, she hurried back to where the tumbled cyclist was limping past some other parked cars, holding the front of her bicycle off the ground.

  “I suppose I should have left this round the back,” the girl lamented. “Only I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to find the way round from there. I’ve only been once, you see.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Eva commiserated. “I doubt there are any guests in residence this week-end, so no-one’s going to make any objections to it being here. Just lean it against the wall for now and we’ll see what we can do about it later. Now, what’s your name? Just so as I can make arrangements about your bike.”

  “Carys Jones, miss. I’m a new chambermaid. Mam’s ever so pleased I’m working here. My wage will help no end at home … and I’m near enough to live at home and help Mam with the housework and all that.” She smiled ruefully. “I’ve four brothers, see! Hopeless about the house, they are!”

  Eva smiled. “You’ll have your work cut out then, won’t you? Cleaning here and at home.”

  A flurry of alarm crossed Carys’s face. “I’m not grumbling, mind! I can do it! I’m a good worker!”

  “I’m sure you are, Carys. Now, leave your bicycle and come along inside before we get washed away completely.”

  They hurried to the revolving door. Eva pushed Carys ahead of her. The girl was absolutely soaked and didn’t seem to have brought anything to change into.

  The Reception area was warm and welcoming. A very realistic-looking artificial log fire took centre-stage, its imitation logs glowing brightly. A number of easy chairs were drawn up around it and some hand-carved tables were dotted about, with a variety of different-styled easy chairs and two-seater sofas nearby.

  None of these drew Eva’s attention at present. Her main concern was to check in and make arrangements to ease Carys’s discomfort. She went straight to the Reception desk, manned by a well-groomed woman in her late-thirties, she guessed. The woman stood to greet them.

  “Hello! Welcome to The Glan-Yr-Avon! I’m Meriel Purvis. What a dreadful day we’re having! Thankfully, it isn’t always like this!” She extended her hand across the desk, smiling a warm welcome.

  Eva shook hands, immediately liking Meriel’s informal approach.

  “Eva Cunningham. I’m pleased to meet you, Meriel. And this is Carys Jones. We’re both new and so you’re going to have to tell us where to go and how to get some dry clothing for Carys. As you can see, she is drenched to the skin.”

  She smiled pleasantly as she spoke, beckoning Carys forward from where she was shyly standing just inside the doorway, staring about her with an awed expression on her face.

  Carys slowly limped over.

  “She’s had a small accident, having been blown off her bicycle,” Eva explained to Meriel. “Is it possible to get her some dry clothing? I’ve got some spare tights I can give her to replace her torn ones.”

  “Tch! Tch! No bother at all!” Meriel exclaimed. “Come on, Carys. I’ll get one of the other girls to see to you. And don’t worry about your tights. We always have a stock in store for emergencies. Ah, Bethan! There you are!”

  A slender dark-haired girl had entered behind the reception desk. She was small in stature, her pretty face smiling. “I’ve left Tricia with Leanne, Meriel,” Bethan announced. “How can I help?”

  “Can you see to Carys, Bethan? She’s a new chambermaid but isn’t living in, so she hasn’t a room to go to. Will you take her under your wing for while and try to sort out something for her to wear whilst her own clothes are drying?”

  “Yes. Come on, Carys. This way.”

  The two girls departed along a corridor to the left.

  Meriel laughed shortly. “Never a spare moment, is there? Ah, and here’s Ieuan Madog, our head porter to assist you, Miss Cunningham.” She turned towards the approaching man. “Will you show Miss Cunningham to her apartment, Ieuan?”

  Ieuan was a tall, mature man, smartly dressed in black trousers, waistcoat, white shirt and black tie. His hair was greying slightly, giving him a distinguished air.

  Eva decided he looked nice. Everyone was so friendly. She was going to enjoy her job here.

  Ieuan sent Alun, one of the young porters, out in the rain to fetch Eva’s other bag inside. She felt a bit guilty about that, but Alun seemed pleased with the two-pound coin she pressed into his hand. Ieuan carried her bag upstairs, casually mentioning the functions of various rooms as they progressed through the hotel and up the stairs to the first floor.

  “Here we are,” he said at last. He opened the door and placed Eva’s bag inside the room, accepting the tip she placed in his hand with a serious nod. “Thank you, miss.”

  Eva stepped past him crossing the room to look out of the window, pleased to note that it was overlooking the cliffs and the tumultuous sea.

  “Beautiful place in the summer, it is,” Ieuan assured her in the lilting voice that was so prevalent in this area of Wales. “Seeing it at its worst right now, you are.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Eva countered. “The stark landscape is very spectacular.” As she spoke, a flash of lightening zigzagged across the dark sky, closely followed by a crash of thunder that reverberated on for seemingly endless seconds. “Wow! That was tremendous!”

  Ieuan nodded approvingly. “Take your time settling in. If you want room service for anything, just ring Reception. See you later.”

  Eva bade him goodbye and glanced around. There was a small lounge with three-piece suite, a dining table and chairs and a few other typical items of furniture, including a drinks cabinet and television set; a neat bedroom, attractively decorated with single bed, double wardrobe and a dressing table; and a bath/shower-room.

  She didn’t linger to admire either the storm that was far from over, or the admirable living quarters assigned to her. A hot shower and complete change of clothes was her first priority.

  The shower was heavenly! She lifted her face into the spray of hot water, relishing its refreshing stream as it ran through her long curls, washing the shampoo away. She wrapped a soft towel around her hair, tucking in the ends at the nape of her neck, and put on her towelling robe.

  She yawned as she looked at her watch. Quarter past four. The ‘Welcome Reception’ was set at 7.00pm. There was time for a rest …

  She came to with a start. Oh, no! It was 6.30pm! She’d been asleep over two hours!

  She jumped off the bed and hastily pulled her clothes out of her bag. Thank goodness her two-piece outfit was made with uncrushable material! It was a dark royal dress, made out of a soft jersey fabric, closely fitting her slim figure. It had a simple round neckline and was topped by a long-sleeved short jacket. She pinned her favourite brooch onto the jacket.

  It didn’t take her long to style her hair. She piled most of it on top of her head, leaving just a few tendrils of hair drifting in front of her ears. A quick application of a light foundation and blusher to her face, a little eye shadow and mascara, and, last of all, some lipstick.

  Before leaving her room, Eva phoned down to Reception to make sure that Carys had been taken care of. Meriel, still on duty, assured her that she had and was now dressed in her own dried-off clothes.

  “Thanks, Meriel. You’re an angel! I’ll see you downstairs.”

  Eva was looking forward to the coming Welcome Reception. She didn’t know anyone other than those she had met on her arrival and William Dagnall
, who had interviewed her, but she was gregarious by nature and enjoyed making new contacts. The interaction with her colleagues would be as much a part of the fulfilment of her job as the day-by-day dealings with the guests.

  The layout of the hotel seemed to be a labyrinth of connecting corridors, all of which she would need to explore in the next few days until she was familiar with every room and department. For now, she relied on her sense of direction of her way in, reversing all turns and it was with a sense of satisfaction that she arrived outside the main dining-room where the reception was to be held.

  She went through the double doors and paused just inside the ante-room. About fifty people were there, standing in small groups. There was a buzz of light-hearted conversations and the occasional burst of laughter.

  To her left, she noticed a separate small dining area, its entrance bordered by fold-back doors. Ideal for a small group or secluded dining area. Ahead, the total length of the room led into a large sun-lounge overlooking a grassed area and then the cliffs. Although it was now quite dark, Eva sensed the cold, grey sea beyond it and imagined how different it would be on a warm, summer’s day.

  To the right-hand side of the ante-room some floor-to-ceiling shutters were folded back, revealing the conventional setting for a formal meal … a top table and two long side tables … ready for their meal later.

  A waiter approached with a tray of drinks balanced on his extended fingers.

  “A drink, madam?”

  “Thank you.” She took a glass and sipped the sparkling liquid it held. Mmm! Real champagne! Nothing of the ‘look-alike-but-taste-completely-different’ variety. She was once more impressed.

  Various people glanced at her and smiled vaguely in her direction before looking away again and resuming their conversations. Eva returned their smiles, relaxing in the congenial atmosphere. She sauntered among the groups, pausing here and there to speak a word and introduce herself. She knew she wouldn’t remember all the names at this first introduction but she set herself the target of remembering most of them.