‘Just a passing phase, that time I stayed with Uncle Len,’ Ian had responded. ‘I enjoyed tinkering about with cars but Len owns his own garage and it would be ages before I could do that. I got really interested in your business while I was working here, and then I thought, yes! That’s what I’d like to do; train to be a proper chef, like you are, Phil. But I suppose it’s also something I’ve inherited from my mum and my grandma before her.’
‘You never had anything to do with the hotel, though,’ Janice had said, ‘or boarding house, as it used to be called.’
‘No, but I was too young, wasn’t I?’
‘I dare say Mum would have wanted you to go to university like she wanted me to do, to have all the chances she and Dad never had – that’s what she used to say. It was always her idea rather than mine that I should go, but it wasn’t to be …’
‘Dad never had much to do with the hotel, either, did he?’ Ian had said.
‘Not with the running of it, no, but he was always there to lend a hand when she needed him. He used to carry the luggage upstairs and do any odd jobs that arose. And he had his own job of work to go to each day; he still does, of course.’
Alec Butler worked as a maintenance engineer for an electrical company. He had originally lived in Burnley, where he worked in the cotton mill. But after meeting and falling in love with Lilian at her mother’s boarding house, he had given up his job – and chance of promotion – to come and live in Blackpool. That had been back in the early thirties, and there had been no question of Lilian moving to Burnley. She could not be spared from the boarding house where she worked for her mother, with hardly more than pocket money for pay.
Florence Cartwright, always known as Florrie, had been a hard taskmaster, like many of her ilk. Widowed during the Great War, she had moved to Blackpool from Wigan with her two children and had become a seaside landlady, largely self-taught with only skills in cooking and baking that she’d learnt from her own mother.
And so it had been with her daughter, Lilian. She had left school at fourteen and started work in the North Shore boarding house, no matter what other ideas she might have had regarding her own choice of work. What Florrie Cartwright said went without question.
Lilian had worked uncomplainingly, though, before and after her wedding, and had carried on with the business after her mother’s death. She had insisted, however, that it should then be known as a private hotel rather than a boarding house. And she had given it a name, Florabunda, partly in memory of her mother and partly because she loved Florabunda roses; something which Florrie would have called ostentatious and having ideas above one’s station!
‘You’ll be more highly trained than any of us once you’ve finished your training,’ Phil had told Ian, who was starting on a two-year course. Janice had done only one year. ‘Times have changed tremendously. In your grandma’s day the folk who ran hotels – well, boarding houses – were self-taught; skills were handed down, mother to daughter, through the generations. It was mainly the women, of course, who were in charge of such places.’
‘Yes, I remember Grandma Florrie,’ Janice had said. ‘You won’t remember much about her, Ian. She never had a proper cookery lesson in her life and she handed on what she knew to our mother. Mum did go to some night-school classes as well, though, to learn about what she called more fancy dishes. In Grandma’s day it was just plain, wholesome food: Lancashire hotpot, Shepherd’s pie, sausage and mash, fish and chips … but the same visitors used to come back year after year. Florrie Cartwright had a good reputation and so did Mum when she took over.
‘Mum changed things quite a lot, though. For one thing, she changed the tariff to bed, breakfast and evening meal instead of providing three meals a day, like they did in Grandma’s day. It must have been jolly hard work: cooked breakfast, midday dinner and what they called “high tea”. Anyway, when it changed it gave the workers some free time in the middle of the day, and it gave the visitors the whole day as well so they could go further afield if they wanted to, although hardly any of them came in their own cars.’
‘And there would be a change in the menu, too,’ Phil had added. ‘I don’t suppose your grandma had ever heard of “starters”, Janice!’
‘Good gracious, no! She would have thought that was a very odd idea. No, it was just dinner and pudding – usually rice, or fruit tart with custard, or steamed puddings. I don’t suppose anyone bothered about their waistlines! Of course, people did a lot more walking then. Mum tried to get away from the stodgy sort of puddings – she did more trifles or ice cream, or meringue dishes. And gateaux, but she used to buy them ready-made. That was what I specialized in at college: cake and pastry-making. I wanted to become more professional.’
‘And so you did,’ Phil had told her. ‘Your fancy cakes and pastries are really out of this world. There are hardly ever any left at the end of the day.’
‘And I’ve even managed to perfect my choux pastry, with Marjorie’s help. The eclairs and choux buns are very popular. I think we’re a good team, Phil, with you concentrating on the main savoury dishes – not forgetting Toby and Marjorie, of course.’
‘And we mustn’t forget Ian, either,’ Phil had said, grinning at his young brother-in-law. ‘You’ve worked really hard for us and I like to think we’ve taught you something as well. But you’re going to learn more about the catering business from the real experts … You’re still quite happy about staying in Blackpool, are you?’
‘Yes, I’m OK about it now. It makes sense to live at home rather than in digs. And I’m learning to live with the situation; with Dad and Norma, I mean.’ He’d given a rueful grin. ‘I never really disliked Norma, you know. Actually, she’s jolly nice. But it was such a shock when Dad said they were getting married. I didn’t think he would ever want anybody else after Mum. And she’s so different from Mum, not just in looks but in … everything.’
They had known what Ian meant; they’d had this sort of conversation before.
A few months after Lilian’s death, one of Alec’s workmates had invited him to go along to a social club he attended. It was not the sort of thing Alec had done before. He had enjoyed an occasional pint at the local pub, and he and Lilian had gone out to a cinema or maybe to a church social evening when she was not too busy with the hotel. It had seemed that Alec and Lilian were all in all to one another; certainly Ian had thought so.
Alec found that he enjoyed the club and the camaraderie of the men – mostly men although some of the wives went along as well. He played darts and became a member of the team, and played bowls during the summer season.
Norma served at the bar and joined in the other activities as well. Alec had been attracted to the dark-haired, vivacious widow, although he was wary at first. But her overtures to him were only friendly, to make him feel welcome there; she was that sort of person.
Their growing friendship had developed into something more and they had married barely two years after his wife’s death, which seemed a very short time to Ian. She had sold her own home and come to live at the bungalow. Norma worked in the dress department at a store in Blackpool and was always well-groomed and fashionably dressed. A most attractive lady all round, and she had done her best to be friendly and understanding towards Ian, who was in his early teens.
Although he was never openly rude or antagonistic towards her, she knew of his resentment. Then, one Christmas, he had fled from his home and gone to stay with Janice and Phil. They had tried to make him realize that life would be much easier if he learnt to adjust to what had happened. And now, a couple of years later, things were much better.
‘Yes, we’ve always found Norma very pleasant,’ Janice had said in answer to his remark. ‘She was great when we opened up here, helping me to choose the crockery and furnishings. And she makes Dad happy again. We mustn’t resent him finding a new lease of life, Ian. He’s only in his early fifties and Norma’s about the same age.’
‘No, like I said, I’m OK now,’ Ian had
reassured her. ‘I expect I’ll be out a lot more when I start the course. Actually, I’m really looking forward to it, now that I’ve made up my mind.’
‘And Sophie will be looking forward to her college course as well,’ Janice had said. ‘We’ll miss her here, unless she comes to work for us during the college breaks, although she might have a lot of studying to do.’
‘Yes …’ Ian had looked woebegone for a moment. ‘We’ve said we’ll write to one another and meet up when we can, but who knows?’ He’d shrugged and given a sad smile.
‘Cheer up,’ Phil had told him. ‘You’re only very young, both of you, but if it’s right it will work out for you, like it did for Janice and me.’
‘We’re only friends,’ Ian had said. ‘Well … a little bit more than that but nothing serious, if you know what I mean. But I like her a lot.’
Sophie Miller was Ian’s first girlfriend. She lived not far from Grundy’s and had worked as a waitress, along with some other friends, during the school holidays. That was how she and Ian had met. Sophie was eighteen, a year older than Ian, and would very soon be starting a teacher training course at a college in Leeds, living there in a hall of residence.
‘What will be, will be,’ Phil had told Ian. ‘Just try to look forward, not back, and make the most of whatever comes along. I’m sure you’ll go far, Ian; you’ve got what it takes.’
Ian had returned to Blackpool soon after to prepare for his new venture.
And now, a couple of weeks later, Janice and Phil were wondering how he was going on, both he and Sophie at her college in Leeds.
‘It will do Ian good to meet a whole lot of different people.’ said Phil. ‘He met Sophie when he was feeling all lost and sorry for himself. She was good for him but, as I told him, what will be, will be …’
THREE
As Christmas approached Grundy’s began to get very busy, particularly in the evenings. When they had first opened they had concentrated on the daytime trade: morning coffee, light lunches and afternoon teas. That had been plenty to cope with when they were finding their feet and waiting to see if their new venture would prove popular.
Quite soon Grundy’s had become well known in the area, and it was then that Phil decided they would open in the evenings, but only in a small way, for private parties that must be pre-booked. The customers were given a choice of menus from which to choose in advance and the system had worked very well. They were particularly busy on Saturday evenings and often opened two or three other evenings each week. They always closed on Sunday for the whole day. Sunday was still, by and large, regarded as a day of rest, whether one chose to think of it as the Sabbath Day or just a time for relaxation.
By the end of October they were almost fully booked for evenings in the month of December. They always closed down entirely over the Christmas period, finishing at teatime on Christmas Eve and reopening on 28 December. They had always wanted this time of year to themselves to see their families and, particularly now, to spend time with their little daughter, Sarah.
‘If these bookings continue we shall need larger premises,’ Phil remarked to Janice at the beginning of November as he pencilled in yet another date. He was laughing as he said it but she could tell that an idea was taking shape in his mind.
‘Do you mean it?’ she asked. ‘Really?’
‘Well, it’s a thought,’ he replied. ‘We always knew the cafe area was small and it does OK for the daytime trade – for people popping in for a quick snack or a chat over a cup of tea or coffee. But the evenings are proving more popular than I dared to hope. And we can’t accept bookings for more than sixteen, or eighteen at a pinch. They need space to move around.’
‘But we don’t have the space, do we? There’s the kitchen at the back, and the storeroom, so we can’t extend any more there. And upstairs it’s our own private place.’
‘Yes, I know, but we’ve said that we really need another bedroom. Sarah ought to have her own room soon, and that means we won’t have a spare room for when Ian comes to stay, or anyone else for that matter. I was wondering … if we could find a house nearby …?’ He stopped, looking at Janice quizzically.
‘Go on,’ she said, smiling at him encouragingly but with a touch of amusement. ‘I’m trying to keep up with you. You and your big ideas!’
‘Well, we could turn the upstairs into a restaurant, just for the evening functions. And this is a good residential area; I’m sure we could find a house nearby – it would have to be quite near – and use these premises just as our workplace.’
‘Phew! You’re certainly ambitious. But there’s a lot to consider. Can we afford it? I know we’re doing quite well but we mustn’t bite off more than we can chew. And think of all the work involved. A lot of structural work, and wouldn’t we need another kitchen upstairs?’
‘Possibly. I haven’t really thought about the details. Perhaps it’s just a pipe dream. Let’s wait till after Christmas and see what the bookings are like in the New Year.’
‘Yes, we’ve quite enough to think about at the moment …’
Janice felt somewhat bewildered. She hadn’t realized that Phil had such grandiose schemes. She was quite contented with the way things were, especially as Sarah, at fifteen months, was starting to walk and needed watching most of the time.
She was a good child, though, and Janice was able to fit her work around mealtimes and rest times. She made sure she had time to devote to Sarah each day – to take her for a little walk, to supervise her meals now she was eating more than baby food, and to make bathtime and bedtime a happy time for both of them.
‘Yes, we’ll think more about it in the New Year,’ she said to Phil, not wanting to dismiss his idea entirely. ‘We have this Christmas to consider first. Christmas Day is on a Sunday, which is our day off anyway.’
‘And people might have Tuesday off work as well as Monday,’ added Phil, ‘in lieu of Boxing Day. So we should certainly do the same. Close at teatime on Saturday – Christmas Eve – and open again on the following Thursday. That will give us a few days to ourselves.’
‘I’m pleased that Ian is coming to help us again,’ said Janice. ‘I thought he might have been offered work at one of the Blackpool hotels. A lot of them do a special four-day Christmas break. But he decided he wanted to come here as usual.’
‘And we’ll be glad of his help too,’ agreed Phil. ‘We’re fully booked every evening the week before Christmas. We’ll certainly be ready for a few days’ break after that.’
‘I don’t suppose we are the only attraction,’ said Janice. ‘No doubt he’ll be meeting up with Sophie again, although he hasn’t actually said so.’
‘And she hasn’t said that she wants to help out here, either. It might be expecting too much of her after her first term at college. She’ll probably be ready for a rest. We could take on a couple of students, though, like we’ve done before; those sixth formers from the girls’ school are keen to earn some pocket money. Or do you think we can manage without them?’
‘You never know from day to day with the morning and afternoon trade. Sometimes it’s crowded and other times we only get a few. A lot depends on the weather. It’s a fair distance to walk from town if it’s raining. Some women like to pop in for tea or coffee when they’ve done their shopping – those that live locally. Some ladies make it a special meeting place. Groups of them come in the same day each week; older ladies, though, the ones who have no children to look after.’
‘Or no work to go to,’ added Phil. ‘I know there are quite a lot of ladies of leisure in Harrogate who don’t need to work.’
‘And we don’t get any riff-raff, either,’ remarked Janice. ‘Oh, dear! That sounds terribly snobbish, doesn’t it? But you know what I mean, don’t you? It’s a very genteel sort of place, where people come to retire. I’m so glad we managed to find it. A real stroke of good fortune, wasn’t it?’
‘Good fortune followed by hard work,’ added Phil. ‘Don’t let’s forget that we’ve made i
t a success, the two of us and our excellent staff. Anyway, let’s think about Christmas. What are we going to do? Same as usual? We usually go to see my parents on Boxing Day. OK with you?’
‘Of course,’ agreed Janice. ‘We’re always made so welcome and they’ll be looking forward to seeing Sarah again. It’s amazing the difference only a few weeks makes when they’re at the baby stage. I’m not too sure about going to Blackpool, though. It’s a long way to travel for a day, although I suppose we could stay overnight? But Ian will be with us and he’d have to go back with us, probably sooner than he intended. And there wouldn’t be room for us all in their little bungalow. Isn’t life complicated?’
‘Only if we make it so,’ replied Phil, always ready to come up with a solution to a problem. ‘We must see your dad and Norma, and they’ll be anxious to see Sarah again. Supposing they were to come here instead of us going there? No, I know we haven’t much room either, but they could have our bedroom. We could make do on the couch for one night …’
‘No, I’ve a better idea,’ said Janice. ‘They must have the spare room. Ian won’t mind camping out in the living room; we’ve got a comfy couch. That is if they want to come … Did you mean the day after Boxing Day?’
‘Yes, of course. I didn’t mean Christmas Day. We like that day to ourselves. I know it will mean extra work when they come but don’t worry about that. I shall see to the cooking and Ian will be here to help me. Then you can have some time with your dad and Norma. What do you think?’
‘Yes, it’s a good idea. Depending on what they say, of course. They might have other plans. They’ve a lot of friends, people from the club, and there’s Norma’s sister …’
‘Well, we’ll ask them and see how they feel about it.’
Alec and Norma were delighted when Janice invited them to go to Harrogate on the Tuesday after Christmas and to stay overnight. She had phoned one evening in mid-November when they were on their own, Ian having gone out to meet some friends, as he quite often did since he had started at the college.
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