‘… who probably couldn’t differentiate between Châteauneuf-du-Pape and Jeyes cleaning fluid,’ said Lucy, finishing the sentence for him.
‘But really, it was unfair to dump all the blame squarely on Alannah,’ Andrew said defensively. ‘Because in actual fact, none of it was her doing. She’d just invited a few close pals, who dragged a gang load with them back from the pub and things had spiralled out of control. She was a victim and not the prime organizer.’
‘You see? There you go again, making excuses and letting her off the hook. Yet again!’ Lucy said, suddenly feeling her anger levels start to shoot skywards. ‘Did it ever occur to you that the girl might just be doing her level best to drive a wedge between you and me?’
‘A great deal of pain and hurt was caused when you and I first got together, you know that,’ Andrew said, looking Lucy square in the face now. ‘You must understand how difficult it was for my family seeing you and I together.’
‘But I did understand and I made every possible allowance for that! Surely to God no one can accuse me of acting any differently …’
‘You have to remember that they went through a lot …’
‘Five years ago! And yet you spent our entire marriage paying the price for that?’ Lucy yelled at him, unable to help herself. Now the barriers were really down. Even if she did regret the words the second she saw a familiar look of pain cross his face.
‘Greta was hugely upset at the way you and I moved on,’ said Andrew, red-faced. ‘And of course, the kids took her side. All I asked of you was that you remembered to treat them sensitively and to tread softy. It was hugely difficult for them.’
‘So why can’t you for once accept that it was bloody difficult for me too?’
‘You have to appreciate I may have divorced their mother, but I certainly didn’t divorce my children too! After all, family is family.’
‘I know that and I tried to build a good relationship with them! Tried till I was blue in the face! And in return, all I got was either downright rudeness or else they patently ignored me! I know it was hard for them, but when are you going to realize that it was fecking well tough for me too?’
‘Please don’t swear …’ Andrew said loudly, which worried Lucy, but then he never raised his voice, on any pretext, ever.
‘Just once, Andrew, just bloody once, I wish I had a husband who was actually on my side!’
‘Excuse me for interrupting,’ said Kate. ‘But given that this is how you both feel, then I have to ask … why did you ever get married in the first place?
Dawn.
Division of property and joint assets. If you could possibly believe that a couple like herself and Kirk could have even found two minutes, never mind a full morning, to spend time discussing that. Division of what exactly, Dawn had wanted to laugh. Our rented flat? The telly my Mum gave us as a wedding gift?
Their little spelt import business, which Dawn was so proud of, Kirk had wanted to hand entirely over to her, but she’d insisted on splitting the proceeds fifty-fifty. After all, they’d set it up together and he did an equal share of work. It was the fair thing to do, the right thing to do. Even if she was still so angry that she could barely make eye contact with him, she at least knew that much.
And now here she was, with an hour-long breather to herself, until whatever their next session was; Dawn hadn’t even bothered to check. Instead, she wandered off to the relaxation room and finding it empty, headed over to a soft cushy recliner over by the window to pass the time there.
Beautiful spot too, she thought, kicking off the flat ballet pumps she was wearing and curling up. She was right by a floor to ceiling window that overlooked the stunningly manicured garden below and wasn’t sure whether it was the lack of sleep from last night, the fact that all the tension between her and Kirk was taking so much out of her, or just the warm, sundrenched room, but pretty soon, drowsiness got the better of her.
Not long afterwards, Dawn woke to the sensation of someone gently tucking a warm blanket over her and slowly opened her eyes. There, silhouetted against the sunlight, was Chloe’s pretty face looking right down on her, like a kind of lovely, gentle guardian angel.
‘Shhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart,’ Chloe said softly, ‘you looked like you were deep in dreamland.’
‘I was … and thank you.’
‘Everything okay, I hope?’
‘Maybe not just yet,’ Dawn smiled drowsily, ‘but you know what? I’m really starting to feel like I’m finally getting there.’
‘Oh you’ll get there alright. Trust me. You’ll definitely get there.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chris was busily heading downstairs towards Chloe’s office, clutching a rough draft of that evening’s menu, which their head chef needed Chloe to sign off on. She never seemed to have a minute to herself round here, it was all go, go, go, and yet, somehow Chris didn’t mind the tiredness and emotional intensity. All down to Chloe really, she thought, and how amazingly easy she was to work for.
She was one of those rare General Managers for whom nothing was a problem and who just mucked in and got on with it, same as everyone else. So unlike other GM’s Chris had worked for in the past. No doubt about it, she loved working here and really wanted to support Chloe every way she could. This opening weekend just meant so much to them all, particularly with the added pressure of Rob McFayden in situ and watching everything unfold live.
Anyway, Chris was just skipping down the last few stairs and heading for the main entrance hall, when she noticed a short-ish, bald guy standing over by Reception, wearing a neat navy suit and tie, looking like he’d just come from work. Not a guest either, which immediately alerted her.
‘I’m here to see Chloe Townsend,’ he was telling Liliana at Reception.
‘I’m afraid Ms Townsend is in meetings all morning and can’t be disturbed,’ Liliana patiently explained. ‘But if you’d care to leave your name, I’ll be sure to tell her you called.’
‘I’d much rather see her actually,’ baldy-headed guy insisted. ‘Can you at least let her know I’m here? I promise, she’ll want to see me too. Just tell her Frank is waiting at Reception for her.’
Bloody hell, Chris thought, stopping dead in her tracks. That’s the guy who sent her that massive bouquet for our opening. Immediately, she stepped over to him, smiled and shook his hand.
‘Hi there, I’m Chloe’s assistant,’ she explained. ‘And don’t worry a bit, I’ll be sure to let her know you’re waiting here to see her.’
*
About half an hour later and Chris was busy working away down at her desk, when suddenly Rob McFayden stuck his head around the door. Chris normally tensed up just at the sight of him and yet not this time. It was strange, she thought, but he seemed so much more mellow and chilled-out this weekend, not a bit like the Rob McFayden she knew of by reputation.
‘Any sign of Chloe?’ he asked. ‘I’m been looking all over for her.’
‘Oh, she’s just taking a short break right now. An old friend of hers called to see her and I think they went out to the garden.’
‘An old friend?’ Rob asked, with a raised eyebrow.
‘Yes,’ Chris smiled helpfully. ‘Actually, the same guy who sent her that enormous bouquet on her desk. Someone called Frank?’
Chloe.
Jesus. He’s here, actually here, in the hotel. Just turned up like a bad penny. As soon as Chris alerts me, the jittery shakes start, so I bolt to the staff loos to take a minute to compose myself. A tiny splash of cold water on my temples, a dab of lip gloss so as not to look like I’m trying too hard and next thing, I’m clickety-clacking up the back staircase to meet him.
Stay cool, Chloe girl. Just remember he’s now on your territory, so just cling tight to that advantage.
‘Frank.’
Ridiculous opener, but somehow, now that the moment had come, it was all I could think of to say. Funny, but I’d rehearsed and rehearsed this moment in my head so many times,
and yet now that it’s actually come to pass, the power of speech seems to have deserted me.
‘Hi,’ he says, giving me this quick up and down glance, a mannerism of his that I’d completely forgotten about. ‘You look well, Chloe. And you’re doing really well here too. I mean, General Manager at a new Ferndale Hotel. Pretty good going.’ He breaks off here to whistle, as he glances round the hallway, sharp eyes taking everything in.
Little piglet-y eyes, I suddenly find myself thinking. Too close together for their own good. Always thought so, but it’s only now I’m somehow able to properly articulate the thought without feeling any disloyalty. Without feeling anything in fact, which takes me by surprise.
‘It’s good to see you, Frank,’ I tell him as briskly as I can, arms folded, heel tapping nervily. ‘But I’m afraid I don’t have time to talk just now. You’ve called at a rotten time …’
‘Yeah, yeah, sorry about that,’ he says, eyeing up the ornate furniture so closely, you’d swear he was about to bid for it at auction. ‘Wow, this stuff must have cost Rob McFayden a fortune! And those carpets too … cashmere! Not cheap.’
‘Frank, I really can’t do this now. You have to understand that it’s …’
‘… That it’s your opening weekend. Don’t worry, I won’t stay, I know you’re probably run off your feet. Just wondered if you and I could have a quick word?’
Part of me wants to say, ‘Did you even hear me? Do you know how busy we are in here?’ and yet part of me is completely intrigued. So I give a quick, curt nod and barely before I know what I’m at, I’m ushering him through the bar and out to the terrace.
Quieter out here, is my reasoning. More privacy. After all, I’ve waited eons to play this out, a bit of discretion is no harm. Frank follows me, taking everything in, as ever missing absolutely nothing. We step outside to the terrace and into the warm sunshine as I turn to face him full on, determined not to blink first. Pride, etc.
Meanwhile he shuffles about for a bit and plays nervously with the bald pate at the back of his head. So he’s nervy too. Good. And that’s yet another mannerism of his I’d totally blanked out. Nothing wrong with it, I’d just … forgotten, that’s all.
‘So, did you get the flowers I sent?’ he asks out of nowhere, piglet-y eyes on me as I’m suddenly jolted back into the world of manners.
‘Oh, ehh … yeah. Yes, I did. They certainly came as a surprise, to be perfectly honest –’
I’m about to tack on, ‘plus given what you put me through, it’ll take more than a bunch of roses to make amends,’ but he interrupts.
‘Got them in that posh florist on Dawson Street. You know, that really flashy, expensive one.’
And then, unbidden, another whole set of memories start to resurface. The really irritating way Frank would splurge out on you and then spend the next month reminding you of just how much it cost him in the first place, thereby taking all the good out of it.
‘Look Frank,’ I tell him, foot still tapping away like a jazz dancer’s. ‘Just calling in like this … it’s … well, I have to ask you straight out. Why are you here? Why did you come?’
‘Well, there is something actually,’ he says, shuffling awkwardly and avoiding my direct gaze. ‘I mean, you know how tiny our industry is, Chloe. I hear things. And the word on the street is that you’re doing brilliantly here.’
‘Oh … well, thanks, I suppose,’ I say uselessly.
‘And in fact, that’s part of the reason I’m here.’
‘Part of the reason, Frank?’
He shuffles around the terrace a bit, checking out the patio heaters and ostensibly taking in the view over the gardens below. Though I know by now there’s something else on his mind. The fidgetiness alone is a dead giveaway.
‘Well, actually it’s the Merrion,’ he eventually says. ‘Things aren’t so good there right now, you see. We’re way down on guest numbers and they’re making staff cutbacks right, left and centre. So the thing is …’
‘Yes?’
‘You see, I’m keeping my eye out for other managerial jobs pretty much anywhere I can. And then when I heard the Ferndale group were opening up here, I thought now was as good a time as any for me to come forward. So maybe, if you ever hear of anything going, you’d put in a good word for me? I’d really appreciate it.’
I just stare back at him, open mouthed, utterly shocked. But it seems he’s still not finished.
‘Oh and by the way,’ he goes on, ‘rumour in the business has it that Rob McFayden himself is actually spending the weekend here in Dublin. Is it true?’
‘Yes, actually.’
A pause and I swear I’m actually dreading what’s going to come out of his mouth next.
‘So … is there any chance you could possibly introduce me? And maybe let him know that I’m now Assistant General Manager over at the Merrion? But of course, that I’m happy to consider other offers, if the right one ever came along. You know yourself. I’m well qualified to work as General Manager; I just need the right break, that’s all.’
I look at him, speechless. So it’s not just a job he’s after, more specifically, it seems to be my job. Should things not work out for me here at Hope Street, he’s most likely thinking.
What do you say to that? What do you say when the man who dumped you on your wedding day, the man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with, suddenly bounces back into your world again, not to say sorry, or even just to wish you luck, but chasing after your job?
‘And … is that really all you have to say to me, Frank?’ I eventually manage to get out, not even caring if it sounds a bit rude.
‘Well … yeah. Apart from, it’s good to see you again. So if you ever fancied a drink, or maybe dinner …’
I cut him short. Hard to explain. Just have to. Can’t really listen to much more.
‘You know something, Frank?’ I say, stopping to face him square-on. ‘I could do the polite thing here. I could choose to be the bigger person and forgive and forget and agree to meet you for a drink and even offer to introduce you to my boss. But I’m not going to. Because you know why? You don’t deserve it, none of it. You didn’t deserve me three years ago and you certainly don’t get to saunter back into my life right now, just because things have turned around for me, and hope to ride on my coattails into the sunset. You weren’t sure of me three years ago, but I’m pretty certain about you right now. And I wish you every success for the future, Frank, I sincerely do. But I can tell you right now that I’ll certainly have no part in it. Now if you’ll excuse me, some of us have work to do.’
He’s scarlet in the face now, but for the first time all I can think is, feck you anyway. Then in total silence, as I briskly show him to the terrace door, a thought lodges in my head that somehow won’t leave once it’s taken hold.
Had he and I actually gone ahead and got married that dim, distant day long ago, would we be checking into a hotel like this right now? Would I be a guest here and not managing instead?
A no-brainer, really.
*
Five minutes later, I’m standing at the main entrance door watching Frank walk away – stomach churning, but feeling strong and somehow vindicated and an awful lot better than I ever imagined I would – when I hear the sound of quick footsteps behind me.
Rob.
He stands right beside me wordlessly, towering over me as usual, as we both watch Frank recede into the distance.
‘You okay?’ he asks softly, with his eyes on me, scanning my face, as though he’s worried I might burst into tears at any minute.
So I turn to face him full on.
‘In a funny way … yeah. I’m fine. Better than fine, in fact. Didn’t think I would be and yet somehow … I am.’
And then he smiles down at me. A warm crinkly smile that reaches all the way up to his eyes.
‘So you needn’t worry,’ I add. ‘You don’t have a General Manager who’s suddenly about to go AWOL on you.’
‘I wasn�
��t worried about my General Manager,’ he says gently. ‘Actually, I was concerned about you.’
I feel a tiny flick of surprise, so I give him a reassuring grin as he steers me back inside.
‘I heard that git was here and was sort of on standby, just in case you wanted his arse kicked for him.’
‘Well … emm … thanks …’
‘… But I took it as a very good sign that he didn’t stay.’
‘It was,’ I tell him.
A pause as Rob looks down at me, bit puzzled now.
‘So, that’s him then. The runaway groom.’
‘Yup.’
‘Chloe, if I ask you a straight question, will you give me a straight answer?’
‘Depends,’ I say, feeling evasive and not even knowing why, other than it feels like he and I are about to cross a line here or something.
‘Why did he do it?’
‘What?’
‘I mean, why would any guy in his right mind, put someone like you through something so awful? And on your wedding day? I just don’t get it.’
And now I find I’m suddenly stammering uselessly.
‘It’s well … look, it’s not that I don’t appreciate you asking or anything … but … well … I can’t … I just …’
Another pause and this time he looks wrong-footed.
‘Hey, I’m sorry if I went too far; I was just concerned, that’s all. Forgive me?’
And then Liliana interrupts, to say there’s a call for me at Reception.
‘Maybe I’ll tell you sometime,’ I tell him, slipping away to take the call.
‘And maybe I’ll hold you to that.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jo was back up in her room, completely stuck. The day had gone reasonably well for her so far, given that Dave had actually decided to behave himself and stop acting the maggot. In fact, he’d been pretty quiet all day for him, muttering an apology to her before their first session and not giving her a single ounce of hassle since. Meek and mild, like he was ashamed of what happened last night and … well, like he was just about ready to finally accept that this was happening, whether he liked it or not.
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