by June Tate
‘That’s right. I have too much to do to waste time just chatting.’
‘Then I’ll let you get on. We’ll talk later.’
Shortly after, Frances Gates, the receptionist, knocked on the door. ‘I thought you’d like to know that today I took our first bookings, Mrs McGonigall.’
‘Really?’ Jessie was surprised. ‘For when?’
‘A few for the evening of the opening. I think they are guests who have been invited and are travelling down from London and a couple more for later dates.’
Jessie beamed. ‘How marvellous! Now we are really in business.’
Frances smiled. ‘I know. It makes it all feel real, doesn’t it?’
‘Indeed. Make sure they have bedrooms at the front if you can. Once those rooms have gone, then those at the back can be let.’
Opening day arrived. The bar was open, but the dining room was closed to the public for today’s private reception. To James the barman’s delight he had quite a few customers who came in for a drink out of curiosity, some from the White Star Line offices. They all seemed to be very impressed. There were business cards on the counter and some of those were taken by one or two who said they would recommend the hotel to their clients wanting overnight accommodation before sailing. James quickly sent a message to Jessie telling her this and she went to the bar and introduced herself.
The men were charmed by her as they chatted. One offered her a drink, but she refused politely. ‘That’s very kind of you, but I never drink on duty.’
‘I’ll leave one behind the bar for you,’ he said, ‘then you can enjoy it at your leisure.’
‘How very kind of you. A gin and tonic would go down very well.’
Larry Forbes walked into the bar and Jessie introduced him. ‘Gentlemen, this is Mr Forbes, the owner. Now, if you’ll excuse me. It was so nice to meet you. I hope you’ll come in again and maybe try our dining room, which opens tomorrow. James, show these gentlemen the menu.’ She walked away, smiling.
A little later, Larry Forbes came into Jessie’s office. ‘That was very smooth of you earlier in the bar. The men have booked for lunch tomorrow.’
‘I hoped they would. They could become regulars, being so close, then they can spread the word and hopefully bring in their clients too. We also have some bookings for the rooms.’
He looked pleased. ‘If this evening goes well, we should be off to a good start.’
‘I can assure you the staff and I will do our best.’
He stood looking at her without speaking.
‘What?’ asked Jessie.
‘I was just thinking of you before, in the cafe running around with your white apron. Just look at you now – the picture of sophistication.’
She chuckled. ‘A woman is many things, Mr Forbes. Whatever life dictates is what she becomes.’
‘You are an extraordinary woman!’
Laughing, she said, ‘I know!’
He just shook his head. ‘I’m off to take a bath and get ready for this evening. I’ll see you later.’
At seven o’clock, people started arriving. Jessie, in a stunning dark-green dress, its deep neckline inserted with coffee-coloured lace, greeted them alongside Larry Forbes, in the foyer as they arrived. The waitresses served champagne and canapés. The ensemble played softly in the background, while reporters took photographs.
It was a long but fruitful evening. Several guests were invited to inspect the bedrooms and later James was busy at the bar as some of the men filtered towards it, leaving their wives to chat. Future bookings were made for the dining room and the bedrooms.
Jessie spoke to some of the ladies and introduced herself, suggesting the hotel would be ideal for them to meet and have lunch together, which was greeted with enthusiasm.
‘It’s nice to find a small and exclusive hotel,’ one said. ‘It’s quieter and I love the air of elegance here.’
‘I’m delighted you think so, madam. If in the future I can be of help, please be free to ask.’ She walked away, feeling satisfied.
Much later, when the hotel closed and the staff had cleared away, Jessie suggested to her boss that they gather the staff together and thank them for their work. ‘You look after your workforce, Mr Forbes, and they’ll stay loyal, I’ve always found.’
‘An excellent idea. Get them into the foyer and I’ll talk to them.’ He walked to the bar and asked James to open three bottles of champagne, and bring them and some glasses to the foyer.
The staff were thrilled to be given a glass of bubbly as they gathered. For some it was the first time they’d tasted it and they giggled as the bubbles went up their nose. Forbes spoke.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to thank you for the efforts you have made to bring the hotel together for tonight’s opening. Our guests were most impressed with The Grosvenor and so they should be. It’s classy, tasteful and well run. We have a reputation to build and then to uphold. Let’s drink to its success. The Grosvenor!’
‘The Grosvenor!’ was uttered by all who were gathered. Forbes went round everybody and had a few words before they all went home, tired but content.
‘You’ll be alright with just the night porter on duty tonight?’
‘Yes, thank you, Mr Forbes. If any of the residents ring down, he can see to them, and if there’s a problem, I’m upstairs.’
‘I thank you, too, Jessie, for your efforts. I can’t imagine anyone else in your position. I knew I’d made the right choice. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.’
After giving the night porter his final instructions, Jessie took the lift to the top floor. Five of the rooms had been let for the night so there would be guests for breakfast in the morning. She undressed and climbed into bed. As she lay back on the pillow, she went over tonight’s event, asking herself could anything have been done any better, but she eventually settled knowing that this was not so and in the morning she would be there to say goodbye to the guests, hoping they would return often.
While Jessie was working on the opening night, Conor had gone across the road to the Builders Arms for a quiet pint. He hoped the opening had gone well. Not that he really had any doubt about it, but knowing how much it meant to his wife, he was naturally concerned. He knew, also, that she wouldn’t be coming home after to tell him how things went. Indeed, he didn’t really know when he’d see her again. It was a strange feeling and one that was still unsettling. He looked up as the bar door opened and saw it was Bill Brown.
Getting to his feet, he walked over to the bar. ‘Let me buy you a pint, Bill.’ Then the two men sat down for a chat.
‘Jessie’s big night tonight,’ remarked Bill. ‘You didn’t go?’
Shaking his head, Conor explained, ‘She did ask me to, but she’d be busy greeting the guests and I felt I’d have been in the way, Best she do her job without having to worry about me.’
‘You know your missus, Conor. Whatever she takes on will be a success. I’ve never met a woman like her!’
Conor laughed. ‘I know exactly what you mean, so I do. There is only one Jessie McGonigall! She’s one in a million and I’m very proud of her.’
The men played darts, sank another two pints and returned home, to sleep and get ready for the morning shift.
At the Grosvenor Hotel the following morning, the overnight guests settled down to have their breakfast in one of the smaller reception rooms, before leaving. Jessie went round the tables asking if everything was to their satisfaction and they were all delighted with the service, the food and the bedrooms. Several said they would book in again whenever they had to come to the town and would recommend it to their friends. They tipped the staff generously and went on their way. She breathed a sigh of relief as they left. Then she went to check on the main dining room to make sure it would be cleared and ready for the normal lunchtime clients. Some bookings had already been taken and she hoped to have others from the passing trade and the local offices.
As she, eventually, sat in her office, she
thought about her husband. It had seemed very strange sleeping alone last night. She had longed to share her success with Conor, to tell him what had happened, to snuggle up to him, to feel his arms around her. It had felt strange without him, but this would be her life now, snatching time to be together, and she knew that was not the route to a happy marriage. Once she’d become organised, she would make sure they spent quality time together. He needed to know that he was still the most important thing in her life, but she had to work. It was for their future, the only real chance to save enough money to make her dream come true. She just hoped that he would understand.
Chapter Twenty-One
The local paper gave the opening of the hotel a double-page spread with a great write-up and several pictures. Dave Jennings sat in his local, reading the paper. He saw a picture of Jessie standing with her boss, greeting the guests and, knowing who she was, he scanned the pictures showing the people gathered, looking for Conor and was surprised not to see him. Maybe he wasn’t there, he thought, then spitefully decided it was probably because it was too classy a do for a common stevedore to be present. It wouldn’t do for the manageress’s husband to lower the tone of the evening.
He continued reading. They certainly had all the VIPs from the town in attendance. The McGonigall family were moving up in the world – well Conor’s wife was. He gave a sly smirk. Well McGonigall wouldn’t like that. He knew the Irishman of old. He liked being in charge. Head of the workforce – head of the house. No doubt his wife was earning good money, probably more than Conor. That certainly would dent the man’s pride.
Well, serves the bugger right! It was through him he was still working as a delivery man for the builder when he should be in the docks, where he belonged. Where he knew what he was doing. Where he earned respect for his position, not like now at everyone’s beck and call. He was no more than a delivery boy and earning less money. He hated it and blamed Conor for his loss of face. How he would love to meet him now, just to be able to remark about his wife’s success – leaving him behind.
He sat drinking for a further hour until he was more than a little drunk and even more belligerent. He eventually got to his feet and made for the door. Once outside, he walked to Union Street and the Builders Arms.
Conor and Bill were sat having a pint and a chat after a game of darts, when the door opened and Jennings entered somewhat unsteady on his feet. Both men looked up.
‘Oh no!’ Bill muttered. Conor didn’t speak.
Jennings ordered a pint, took a drink and turned to the two men with a smirk.
‘Saw your wife’s picture in the paper,’ he said. ‘She’s going up in the world, isn’t she?’
Conor didn’t answer.
‘Yes, there she was surrounded by all the important people in the town, dressed to the nines, doing her stuff, mixing with the toffs like she belonged. I take my hat off to her. Before long she’ll leave you behind if you’re not careful!’
Conor continued to ignore him, but the air was full of menace and the other locals became silent and watched.
Jennings didn’t like being ignored. He’d come in to try and upset his sworn enemy. He staggered over and stood in front of the two men. ‘Lost your tongue, McGonigall? That’s not like you. As I recall you were always full of it!’
‘What do you want, Jennings? You’ve obviously come in here with a purpose, so get on with it, then get out!’
‘I was just curious, that’s all, wondering how you felt, no longer being the man of the house, your wife now earning more than you. You see, pretty soon she’ll realise she can do better than a stevedore. Mixing with class as she is, she’ll soon realise the difference. She’s a beautiful woman, after all. Someone with money will come along and before you know it—’
Conor stood up and punched him on the jaw, sending him flying across the floor on his back. Leaning over Jennings, Conor quietly said, so no one else could hear, ‘I gave you a beating once before. Now, I’m warning you, stay away from me or I’ll have to sort you out, then you won’t be fit enough to work anywhere!’
Bill and the landlord hauled Conor to his feet. Then someone threw a jug of water over his adversary, bringing him to his senses. The landlord pulled Jennings up off the floor, then after making sure he wasn’t seriously hurt, pushed him outside into the street.
‘You’re barred! You come here again, I’ll call the police. Now shove off and take yourself elsewhere.’ He watched as the man staggered away.
When the landlord returned, Conor apologised to him. ‘Sorry about that, but I had to stop him.’
‘He’s a nasty piece of work, Conor. I’d watch my back in future, if I were you.’
Conor returned to his seat. Bill looked at him and frowned. ‘Jennings will never forgive you for losing him his job and getting him blacklisted from the docks, you know that, don’t you?’
‘Aye, I do. One day, somewhere at some time, it will be settled once and for all.’
‘That’s what worries me, Conor! I don’t want to see you end up behind bars.’
With a rueful smile, Conor said, ‘That’s not something I have in mind either. Come on, let’s have a drink and forget about it.’
But as his friend stood at the bar waiting for their drinks, Bill was worried. He liked his neighbour, admired him even, but he also knew that Conor would only be pushed so far and, when raised, his Irish temper was fearsome.
It was three days after the opening that Jessie decided she could safely take the night off. The hotel was running smoothly, the staff now organised and working well. There were only three residents staying and the night porter could manage if he was required, so she decided to go home and spend some time with her husband. On the way home, she bought some fish and chips and put them in the oven to warm when she discovered the house was empty. Sitting with a cup of tea, she sat in front of the fire and relaxed. Home! How she’d missed it. Not during the day, she’d been too busy then, but it was at night when she retired to her rooms that she missed being here with Conor. Never had she felt so alone and if she felt that way, how was he coping? She looked at the clock; it was eight-thirty. Perhaps Conor had popped across the road to the Builders for a drink? Then she heard the key in the door and got to her feet. As Conor stepped inside, she rushed to him and threw her arms round his neck.
‘Well, here’s a desperate woman if ever I saw one,’ he said.
She held his face in her hands and kissed him. ‘Hello.’
‘Would you mind telling me who you are? The face is familiar, but …’
She gazed at him, expecting to see a teasing smile and a twinkle in his eye, but there was neither.
‘Conor?’
‘Forgive me, but I’m so used to being alone that I’m taken by surprise, that’s all.’ He sniffed the air. ‘Is that fish and chips I can smell?’
‘Yes, I bought some on the way home. I’ll dish them up now.’
Taking them out of the oven she unwrapped the paper, then portioned the food onto the plates, cut two slices of bread and spread it with butter. ‘Sit and eat,’ she said.
Removing his jacket, he picked up his knife and fork. ‘There was a time when you used to cook for me, but that’s been a while.’
Jessie felt utterly deflated. She’d been so looking forward to spending a night at home and now her husband was behaving like a spoilt child.
‘Don’t start, Conor! You know why I can’t be here all the time. I’ve been looking forward to coming home. Don’t spoil it, please.’
‘Well, it took you long enough, that’s for sure! It’s been three days since you opened. You were obviously in no great rush!’
Her back stiffened and her nostrils flared. ‘So that’s how it’s going to be, is it? You punishing me for not being here looking after your every need? Well, it doesn’t wash with me, you ungrateful bastard! I’m working my legs off to give us a future, putting in long hours to organise the staff and the steady running of the hotel, but do I see a minute’s show of intere
st in my work or a sign of gratitude? Do I hell! You knew we’d have to make sacrifices, the main one being I’d not be at home all the time. I’d really looked forward to tonight, spending time with my hard-working husband, thinking our time would be precious and enjoyable.’ She got to her feet suddenly, sending her chair flying. ‘Well, fuck you, Conor McGonigall!’ She swept her plate off the table, sending it across the room and, picking up her coat, she stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her.
Conor took another mouthful of food, but then he cast aside his knife and fork, and with a deep sigh, bowed his head and banged the table with his fist. What a bloody great fool I am, he thought, letting my resentment get in the way. He was proud of Jessie, but deep inside his masculine pride resented her rise in status – only because he couldn’t match it. He knew to her it didn’t matter one bit, but it did to him. He ran his fingers through his hair as he pondered on the situation. Jessie was thrilled to be home and I end up behaving like an eejit. No wonder she blew her top. He took out a cigarette and lit it. God! But isn’t she magnificent when she’s angry. He gave a rueful smile. How the devil am I going to put this right? he wondered.
While Conor was regretting his behaviour, Jessie was still furious. How dare he treat her that way? She was still filled with fury as she reached the hotel. The bar was still open and she walked in, sat on a stool at the end of the counter and asked James for a gin and tonic.
He placed the glass before her. ‘Everything alright, Mrs McGonigall?’
Her mind cleared quickly, and she smiled. ‘Yes, James, everything is fine.’ She didn’t believe in airing her troubles to all and sundry, especially not your staff. Soon, she finished her drink and left the bar, heading towards the lift.
‘I thought you were off tonight, madam,’ the night porter called.