‘But you love her.’ Lisa’s voice was matter of fact. ‘You never got over her. I know you tried to convince me and her and yourself. But the truth is, the minute she walked back in through that door you were hooked.’
‘What do we do now?’
He was looking to her for answers. Because he knew she was stronger than he was. Because if anyone could find a solution to this mess, it would be Lisa.
Lisa looked around the reception area. In two days’ time the first guests were due to check in. She gave a despondent shrug.
‘Sell up, I guess. We should get our money back. We’ve got a healthy stream of bookings already.’
‘It’s a bloody shame. After all that hard work.’
‘You could buy me out.’
George couldn’t help wishing that Lisa would scream and cry, hit him even. She was so incredibly down to earth. So practical. It was unnerving. And it made him feel more guilty because he knew that no one was really that tough, that inside she was probably devastated. Not that he flattered himself that he was a heartbreaker.
‘I don’t think I can afford to.’ Not with a baby on the way, he added to himself as an afterthought. ‘And it doesn’t seem fair. You’ve put such a lot into this place.’
‘Not as much as you’ve put into Victoria.’ Her crudeness made him flinch. But at least she was showing some sort of reaction. ‘Where is she now?’
‘I’ve booked her into a hotel.’
Lisa scoffed.
‘That’s a bit pointless, isn’t it?’
‘I could hardly bring her back here.’
‘Why not? The damage has already been done.’
A trace of bitterness had crept into her voice.
‘I never meant to hurt you.’
‘No, I’m sure you didn’t.’ Her tone was brisk. ‘But perhaps it was meant to be. And, anyway, I wouldn’t want to be second best.’
‘Lisa, you are not second best. You’ve got to believe that. No way. You are beautiful and talented and sexy and…’ George shrugged helplessly, at a loss for the right words. ‘Amazing. You’re amazing.’
‘But I’m not Victoria.’
Lisa always had a knack for getting straight to the point.
George sighed.
‘No.’
She squared her shoulders.
‘I don’t know where Justin’s got to. I think he’s out with Joel. I’ll tell him when he gets back. You better go and find Victoria.’ She paused. ‘Let’s have a meeting tomorrow, when we’ve all had a chance to think about what we want to do. Say… ten o’clock?’
Christ, how could she be so businesslike when he’d just blown her whole world apart? He gazed at her, her chin tilted defiantly in that gesture he’d come to know so well. She was blinking rapidly and he realized she was trying not to cry. She wouldn’t want to do that in front of him; he knew her well enough for that. He drew away hastily.
‘Ten o’clock, then…’
As George turned and walked out of the door, Lisa squared her shoulders and managed a rueful smile. She’d been looking for the right moment all day to tell George she didn’t actually want to marry him. She’d been berating herself for agreeing in front of all those witnesses, wondering how on earth she’d managed to find herself engaged and how she was going to get out of it while not hurting his feelings.
Now, she didn’t have to worry. Telling him she’d never intended to marry him would only look like sour grapes. Besides, she didn’t think she wanted to do anything to ease his conscience.
Bloody men, she thought. Why didn’t she ever learn? Suddenly blinded by tears, she ran through the drawing room and out of the French windows. She’d go down to the beach. Things never seemed so bad on the beach, somehow.
20
It had been decided that Hannah would break the news about Molly and Alfie to the rest of the staff, as discreetly as possible. It was a dubious honour, as it was very hard to drop a bombshell like that without looking as if you were relishing everyone’s reaction. But she understood that Bruno would feel uncomfortable announcing it to all and sundry, and they obviously couldn’t keep it quiet for any length of time.
She was standing now, in the staffroom, her fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms, as Caragh marvelled at the revelation.
‘Bloody hell!’ she exclaimed. ‘What a brilliant scam. I wish I’d thought of it.’
‘Scam?’ frowned Hannah. ‘What do you mean, scam?’
‘Well, how do they prove it is Joe’s baby? I wouldn’t take that little scrubber’s word for it.’
Hannah stepped forward.
‘What did you call her?’
‘Molly Mahoney’s a little scrubber.’ Caragh stood her ground. ‘A scheming little scrubber, coming out of the woodwork two years later. It’s perfect. They’re hardly going to dig up his body for DNA, are they?’ She cackled. ‘It’s like a Catherine Cookson story. Bastard son born on the wrong side of the blanket. Though if you ask me it could be any Tom, Dick or Harry’s baby from here to Tawcombe.’
Hannah was trembling with rage.
‘Take that back.’
‘What?’
‘Take back what you just said. About Molly.’
Caragh’s mocking eyes danced.
‘Oh yes, of course. What it is to inspire such loyalty. But then she stuck up for you, didn’t she? All the losers and the misfits stick together in this place.’
Frank stepped forward.
‘Shut it, Caragh.’
Her eyebrows shot skywards.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Apologize to Hannah.’
‘Jesus, why is it everybody wants me to apologize to her? The only one who should apologize to her is God, for giving her that conk. That’s unforgivable.’
Caragh sat back in her chair, looking very pleased with herself.
Frank looked uncomfortable.
Hannah stared at her evenly.
‘It was you,’ she said.
‘What was me?’ Caragh gazed back innocently.
‘When I called the hospital, to apologize for not turning up for my operation. They said I’d already cancelled. Two weeks ago.’
‘Did they?’ Caragh shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Nothing to do with me.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Hannah sweetly. ‘Because actually you did me a favour. If I’d cancelled on the day, I’d have lost all my money. But because you gave them two weeks’ notice, they’d found someone else to take my place. I got a full refund. And they’ve booked me in again for a fortnight’s time.’
‘What operation?’ asked Frank, bewildered.
‘God, do you have to ask?’ Caragh looked scornful.
‘I’m not ashamed,’ said Hannah. ‘I was booked in for a nose job.’
‘Why?’ Frank really thought he’d missed something. Two minutes ago they’d been on abandoned babies.
Caragh snorted.
‘Why?’ She collapsed, helpless with laughter. ‘Why stop there, do you mean?’
Frank looked down at her.
‘You bitch.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ said Caragh. ‘Get over it. I saved her nearly four grand.’
She held out her hand to look at her nails. Frank stared at her in disgust, then turned on his heel and walked out of the room.
Hannah bent down until her face was on a level with Caragh.
‘You can say what you like about me,’ she said evenly, ‘but if you don’t take back what you said about Molly, you’ll be the one needing surgery.’
Bruno was in the back office. He felt quite light-headed, from too much coffee and not enough sleep. It had been an extraordinary couple of days. His heart soared every time he thought of his mother’s face when she’d first seen Alfie. Of course, there had been tears. Lots of tears. It had been painful in some respects. Incredibly emotional. Even his father had cried, and Bruno didn’t remember him crying once, not even when Joe had died. Molly had been cautious, wary, protective, but that was to
be expected. And there were bound to be difficult times ahead. There were too many emotions involved to expect a totally smooth path.
But otherwise, it had been quite wonderful.
There was a knock at the door. Bruno sighed. He’d hoped to sneak off, grab some lunch at home and get some sleep.
‘Come in.’
The door opened and Frank stepped inside. He looked anxious.
‘Frank. Come and sit down. What can I do for you?’
Frank took the seat in front of his desk. Bruno saw his hands were trembling.
‘What’s the matter?’
Frank folded his chef’s hat in his lap.
‘You’re not going to like any of this. You’re going to be down a manageress and a head chef by the end of it. And to be honest, I don’t care if you end up suing me. Or if I end up in prison. But I can’t keep quiet any longer.’
Later that afternoon, Hannah had come off duty and had gone to flop on to her bed. She was shattered after the emotional rollercoaster that had been the past couple of days. Her confrontation with Caragh had drained her – she’d made a dignified exit in the end, as the girl had refused to apologize. Hannah felt rather hurt that Frank had slunk off and left them to it. She couldn’t believe what a coward he was. But then, she supposed Caragh would inflict all sorts of hideous torture on him as punishment, so maybe she couldn’t blame him.
The knock on the door was so faint she didn’t hear it at first. But then a louder one came.
‘Hello?’
She sat up, wondering who it could be. The door opened and in came Frank, looking rather shaken.
‘Oh,’ she said, rather curt. ‘What?’
‘She’s gone,’ he said, in wonderment.
‘Who?’
‘Caragh.’ He came and sat down on the bed without being invited. ‘I told Bruno everything. Every scam and fiddle she’d been up to. I had to tell him about the one I was involved with as well, because I knew she’d dump me in it, given half the chance.’
‘Bloody hell!’
‘I couldn’t stand her any longer, Hannah. She was doing my head in. She was such a total bitch. To you. To everyone. But she had me by the bloody balls. The only way I could get away was to turn myself in.’
Hannah put a hand on his shoulder.
‘So – have you been sacked?’
‘No!’ Even as he said it, Frank couldn’t believe it.
‘He gave me a mother of a bollocking. But he reckoned if I was brave enough to own up then I was basically an honest person.’
‘And Caragh?’
Frank grinned.
‘Half an hour to pack her bags. And a taxi to the station.’
‘No!’ Hannah threw herself back on the bed laughing, kicking her legs with glee. ‘Well done you.’
‘I thought I’d had it. I thought that would be it. I thought I’d be out on my ear. But I couldn’t take another night of it.’
Hannah remembered his scratches and sat up.
‘How is your back?’
Frank was staring at her.
‘Fine.’
Hannah stared back at him.
‘What?’
Hannah blinked. The next thing she knew, she was in Frank’s arms. They were kissing and she knew this wasn’t out of sympathy, or kindness, or desperation. She slid her hands up under his shirt and this time his skin was hers to feel, and she revelled in every inch of it. And Frank revelled in the pleasure of being stroked and caressed. It was heavenly.
Later, they lay on the bed, staring at each other and laughing at the way things had turned out, and kissing again.
‘You’re beautiful, you know that?’ Frank whispered to her.
‘Now I know you’re lying,’ Hannah laughed. ‘You don’t have to say that.’
‘Seriously. I mean it. Don’t have an operation. You don’t need an operation. I don’t want to change one little bit of you.’
Hannah lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Frank sat up.
‘Honestly. Cancel it. Just think what you could do with the four grand.’
Hannah was silent for a moment.
‘You’re not going to talk me out of it, Frank.’ She was quite determined. ‘I’ve thought and thought and thought about it. And even though my dream has come true today –’ she smiled up at him, trailing a finger down his arm – ‘my absolutely wildest dream, it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to live with this nose. And I don’t have to. I’m going ahead with it. And there’s absolutely nothing you can do to make me change my mind.’
In his office, Bruno came off the phone to his lawyer. He had to laugh: the man had been rather taken aback by his agenda, which had involved long-lost illegitimate nephews, fraudulent manageresses and trust funds. He rubbed his jaw. He needed a shave, a drink and a sleep, not necessarily in that order.
There was another knock on the door. He wasn’t going to get any of them at this rate.
‘Come in,’ he sighed.
It was Lisa. Bruno felt cheered at once. He didn’t mind her interrupting him in the least.
‘Lisa – hi. That was a fantastic party, by the way. I’m sorry – I haven’t got round to doing my thank-you letter yet. It’s… been a hectic couple of days.’
‘Yes. It has for us too. I won’t keep you long.’
Bruno frowned. There was something very odd about her manner. She seemed unnaturally businesslike and upright. Not her usually sunny self.
‘Is something wrong?’
‘I thought you’d like first refusal. As you were interested in buying it in the first place.’
‘First refusal?’
‘On The Rocks. We’re… selling up.’
Bruno nearly fell off his chair.
‘What? Why?’
Lisa shut her eyes and recited her reply, in a monotone, as if it was something she’d learned by heart.
‘Victoria’s pregnant. It’s George’s baby. Justin’s going off to Sydney with Joel. So he wants his cash out because he doesn’t want to touch The Rocks with a bargepole if Victoria’s got anything to do with it. And I can’t afford to buy either of them out so… well, I don’t know what I’m going to do, but that doesn’t matter. I like a challenge.’
She smiled at him brightly.
‘R-i-i-i-ght.’ Bruno nodded.
‘So there you go. I said I’d ask. Are you interested? Because if not, my next stop is the estate agent.’
‘Lisa, Lisa – slow down. You’re going at this like an express train. Let me get you a drink, at least. God knows I could use one after the day I’ve had.’
He didn’t want to drop into the conversation the furore of his weekend. He didn’t want to look as if he was upstaging her, though it sounded as though it would be a close-run battle. Instead, he poured them each a tumbler full of whiskey.
Lisa grabbed hers gratefully and drank. Bruno thought she was only just holding on to her sanity. She looked quite shaken, underneath the brisk exterior. Poor girl – what on earth had been going on? He thought he’d get the gory details later, but the only thing he could be grateful for at that moment was that he hadn’t slept with Victoria. That really would have made things complicated.
‘So.’ Lisa was anxious to get back to business. ‘What do you think?’
He swirled the whiskey round in his glass, thinking carefully.
‘I can’t afford to buy The Rocks outright,’ he said eventually. ‘Not at the moment. I want to spend a good deal more money here. And there’s a few… commitments I need to sort out.’ He took a deep slug. ‘But… I might be interested in a partnership. I might be able to buy say… two-thirds.’
Lisa looked down into the bottom of her empty glass.
‘It’s not really what we’re looking for. I think we’re looking for an outright buyer. But I could tell George to come and have a chat.’
‘No. You misunderstand.’ Bruno held out his hand for her glass to top it up. ‘I’m not remotely interested in going into partnership
with George. The only person I’d want to do business with is you…’
Lisa looked up sharply.
‘Me?’
‘Why should you have to give up The Rocks, when you’ve put in all that hard work? After all, you love it here, don’t you?’
‘Well, yes, but…’
‘But what?’
‘I can’t run it on my own.’
‘I wasn’t suggesting you did. I’ve got plenty of staff here – bags of talent looking for a new opportunity.’
Bruno’s mind was racing. He felt like his old self, that trader on the shop floor, buzzing from lack of sleep, putting deals together. Frank would be perfect for The Rocks. And Hannah – she was too inexperienced to take Caragh’s place, but she could handle a small hotel. He felt a surge of adrenalin.
‘What do you think?’ he asked Lisa.
‘I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought of it as an option.’
‘I think it makes fantastic sense.’
Lisa chewed on her thumbnail. He did have a point. She was rather aggrieved at having to give up the hotel when everyone else seemed to be ending up with what they wanted. She’d been a little hurt that Justin hadn’t stuck by her; she’d hoped he might buy George out, but he was champing at the bit to start a whole new life and, anyway, she wasn’t sure he’d be an entirely reliable business partner on his own. But Bruno. Bruno was solid and sensible. He understood Mariscombe and how it worked. He had the flair that she lacked – the sense of style that The Rocks needed.
He would, Lisa decided, be the perfect partner.
21
Lisa woke terribly early on Christmas morning. She always had done. Ever since she had been a small child. Even though she was now over thirty, and alone, the anticipation of the day wrenched her from her sleep and she felt a tingle in her stomach.
Her eyes sought out the luminous figures on her alarm clock. It was only just gone five. She must try and get back to sleep. There was nothing to get up for yet and if she got up now she would be exhausted later. The hotel was full; it surprised her how many people wanted to be away from home over the festive season. They could have filled it several times over, thanks to numerous mentions in glossy magazines and Sunday supplements who rated it as the ideal venue for a quiet Yuletide retreat. They were mostly young couples who wanted to escape the tyranny of a family Christmas and the drudgery of doing all the work themselves. Thus The Rocks was offering them a week of luxury and indulgence, which had begun the day before with a pair of beauty therapists treating each guest to a relaxing massage, followed by salmon coulibiac and white chocolate chestnut gateau and a screening of It’s a Wonderful Life on a flat screen in the drawing room, the fire lit and liqueurs or more champagne discreetly served.
Love on the Rocks Page 38