Cherry Blossoms

by Patricia Keyson

  “No problem. Come and have a look at the drawing Jay did of the boat.”

  * * *

  By mid-morning, Cherry had cleaned and aired the room once more. It was rather a cheerless place, she thought, as she threw a spotless white cloth over a table in the corner and unloaded crockery from a trolley. She found herself counting the teaspoons in order to prolong her stay there, hoping that Oliver would materialise. But time was getting on and she couldn’t afford to draw attention to herself. All she needed to do now was collect the thermos jugs of hot coffee from the kitchen. When she returned with them, she was surprised to find the room occupied. She recognised the jogger from yesterday, but today he was dressed in a baggy blue shirt, tucked into navy chinos. With that colour combination, it was hard to dismiss his good looks as he surveyed her with his cobalt blue eyes.

  “Hi there!” said Darius.

  “You shouldn’t be in here, you know,” Cherry said sternly, as he poured coffee for himself.

  “Missed breakfast,” grinned Darius, not looking at all ashamed.

  “Well now you’ve poured it, take it along to the lounge to drink. There’s an important meeting due to start here in a few minutes.” She followed him back down the corridor and made sure he was installed in the correct room. Her face softening, she tossed a cellophane packet of crispy biscuits on the table in front of him.

  He looked up, his eyes twinkling. “What’s that for?”

  “You said you missed breakfast.”

  * * *

  As Cherry continued with her work she couldn’t get Oliver Fingle out of her head. She felt an overwhelming attraction for him which she couldn’t understand as usually she was so level-headed. She hardly knew him. What she needed was a distraction, and was relieved to be asked to go down to the kitchens to help André with the inventory of the dry goods. There was just enough time before Jay came back from school.

  André always made her feel welcome and the large larder packed with tins and packets of fascinating ingredients delighted her. She raced around, dodging between the shelves quickly identifying items and calling out to André how many were left. There must have been a less time-consuming way of doing these inventories, but Cherry loved it so much, she was quite happy for things to remain the same. The hotel was, as she had admitted to Oliver, a little old-fashioned . . . behind the times. Whatever did he think of her? She’d been told before that she opened her mouth without thinking. But, at the time, she’d had no idea that Oliver was one of the owners.

  Her thoughts jumped to Darius. She was surprised that a young man like him was staying here. She would have expected him to be at one of the more central hotels where there was a lot more going on. Just as she’d rounded up the last box of sugar sachets, she heard Pat call to her.

  “Jay’s home. No need to hurry, he’s playing cards.”

  Strange. Usually, Jay snuggled into an armchair in the lounge and read his Roald Dahl books until Cherry was free. Although anxious to greet her son, she knew Pat, who doted on him, would have given him a drink of milk or juice and a couple of cookies.

  “That’s the lot then, André. See you soon.”

  Hurrying upstairs, she found that Pat was quite right. Jay was in his usual armchair and on the table in front of him were a pile of matches and a pack of cards. She heard him say, “Twist,” just as she identified his opponent.

  “Darius? I see you’ve met my son.”

  Darius stood up, scattering cards and matches. “I didn’t realise. I thought this poor child had been abandoned.” He grinned, but the words stung Cherry and made her feel she’d neglected Jay. She hurried round and put a hand on Jay’s shoulder, not wanting to kiss him in case she embarrassed him.

  “Darius is teaching me how to play twenty-one, Mum. I’m getting quite good at it, I think we should play for money next time,” he said, indicating the pile of matches in front of him.

  “Perhaps I should quit while I’m losing,” smiled Darius. “Now that your boat’s sinking, have you got somewhere else to stay?” he asked conversationally.

  “We’re living here,” said Jay, still excited about their new home. “It’s a great place. Do you want to see it?”

  “I think Darius must have things to do, Jay. And it’s supposed to be a bit of a secret where we’re staying.”

  “Now you’ve got me intrigued. Why don’t I get us a cup of coffee and you can tell me all about it.” Darius stood up and was about to wander across to the bar.

  “No, not for us, thank you,” called Cherry. “I’m still officially at work for another hour and a half. I could be in deep trouble with the owner, so I’ll keep a low profile, if you don’t mind.”

  Darius shrugged. “Okay. Catch you later, Jay. Watch out, I’m going to win next time.” Jay giggled as Darius sauntered off.

  * * *

  Cherry didn’t work at the weekends because of Jay. The two of them rose late on Saturday and lazed around the chalet. Jay arranged his toys and clothes in the cupboards in his bedroom, and Cherry made a shopping list for a trip to town later.

  “What would you like to do after lunch, Jay? Anything special?”

  “Don’t mind.” He lay on his stomach on the sofa, gazing wistfully into the distance. Cherry sat on the floor near him and pushed the hair off his forehead.

  “Shall we go down to the river, then?” She watched in distress as his little face crumpled. Gathering him to her, she whispered, “Poor old you. You’re missing the boat, aren’t you?”

  Jay nodded furiously and pushed his head closer to his mother. “Will we ever be able to go back, Mum?” he asked unsteadily.

  “I don’t see how. The boat’s gone. I’ve arranged for it to be towed to the yard, but I can’t afford to have it repaired.” She felt it best to tell the truth, even though it would upset him. If he found out later that she’d lied, he’d never forgive her. “We can go along to the lock-keeper’s cottage if you like, he’d let you help open the lock if a boat came. Would you like that?”

  “Yes, I would,” said Jay, brightening.

  “Then after we’ve done the shopping, we could play cards,” said Cherry, checking her son’s reaction. “I’d better put matches on the shopping list.”

  Chapter Three

  “What do you know about the owner of the hotel, Pat?” asked Cherry one morning during a coffee break. She hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind and wanted an opportunity to talk about him.

  “Oliver? He’s a lovely man. I saw him quite a bit when he was younger, but he stopped coming to see his mother here. I think they met up in London occasionally, although they didn’t seem close,” said Pat, putting her feet up on the chair opposite her. “Didn’t you call him a gorgeous hunk?”

  “Umm,” Cherry said, dreamily. Then she sat up straight and said, “What do you think he’d say if he knew I was living here?”

  “Yes, my goodness,” Pat cried, spilling coffee over her cream blouse. “I’ve been thinking about that. He’s a bit pre-occupied right now, let’s not add to his problems. Please, Cherry, just try and keep out of his way.”

  Out of his way? That was the last thing Cherry wanted to do, but she could see the sense in it. Changing the subject, she said, “I went over to the lock-keeper’s cottage with Jay at the weekend. He’s found someone who might be interested in buying the boat. I might as well give it to him as there’s so much wrong with it.”

  Pat put a sympathetic hand on Cherry’s arm. “You’ll get through this. You’re resilient and young, not even thirty yet. You’ve got a lot to look forward to.”

  Looking at her watch and standing up, Cherry said, “”I hope you’re right. Anyway, it’s the half-term holidays coming up soon. I’ll be in touch with Alan. Jay will probably go up there, so I may be able to do some extra hours.” She went to the sink and ran some cold water onto a cloth. “Here, sponge out that coffee before it stains.”

  On her way back to the upper floor guestrooms, she saw that an office door was ajar. Intri
gued, she peeped in to see if it was occupied.

  “Darius! You again. You seem to go everywhere you shouldn’t. This room is staff only. Out you go and then I’ll lock it behind you.”

  Darius followed her, a playful grin on his lips. “How’s Jay? Still gambling?”

  “Don’t say that. I’m in enough trouble over how I look after him. I need someone on my side, not against me.”

  “Want to talk about it?” Darius leaned carelessly against the door frame as Cherry fished in her pocket for a master key. She looked at him – with his smiling eyes and easy manner. If only she could be as relaxed as that, he didn’t seem to have a care in the world. It would be good to unburden herself to someone, someone who wasn’t involved.

  Finding the key, she firmly shut and locked the door. “I’d like to get things off my chest, yes. Would you mind?”

  “Your place or mine?” he grinned.

  “That’s just part of the trouble,” sighed Cherry. “But if I’m going to let you in on my innermost secrets, I’ll have to be sure I can trust you.”

  “The curiosity is killing me. Tell me everything, you can count on me.”

  After Cherry had gone through her immediate problems, Darius asked, “So, why is the chalet a secret?”

  Cherry gulped as she realised she’d revealed so much to a near-stranger. However, it felt good to get things off her chest. Taking a deep breath, she added, “The owner doesn’t know I’m staying there. This is strictly between you and me. Well, Pat knows and obviously Jay knows a bit, but it’s not to be talked about freely. Understand?”

  * * *

  Cherry glimpsed Oliver’s tall figure before he was aware of her presence. Taking the opportunity to view him in repose, she was amazed at the impact he had on her. She was aware her cheeks were flaming. Her insides liquefied. She hadn’t felt like this about anyone before. It was like a schoolgirl crush, but surely she should be well past feeling like that. Even when she was at her most romantic with Jay’s father, she hadn’t felt as physically affected as now.

  “Pat said you wanted to see me,” she stammered.

  “Good morning, Cherry.” He interrupted her thoughts. “Come on, this is a business meeting not a coffee break.” The flinty glint in his eye made him even more attractive. “So, tell me about it.” Oliver sat, drumming his fingers on the desk. But Cherry hadn’t been listening.

  “I . . . er . . . could you repeat the question?” She was flustered.

  “I said I wanted to hear more about the things you’d do if the hotel were yours.”

  “Do you? Why?” Cherry couldn’t see how her inexpert views could be of interest to Oliver. After all he was the owner and must have his own ideas.

  He stood up and fingered his tie. “When you voiced your opinion it was as though you’d already given it thought and I wondered why. Also, you spoke with such passion.” He sat down opposite her and fixed her with a penetrating gaze, waiting for her reply.

  “I think it’s the river that makes me feel like that.” As she spoke, Cherry relaxed, wanting to share her enthusiasm with him. “The water’s so tranquil. Even though there can be strong currents and undertow, the flow of the water is peaceful. The swans float gently by. There are wonderful birds and wildflowers. You notice the seasons quite distinctly. The fishermen are part of the scenery, the river people are friendly . . .” There was a prolonged silence after she tailed off. Cherry was embarrassed. She’d said too much again. She risked a glance at Oliver. To her consternation, he gazed at her, but said nothing. “Well, you did ask,” she said, rising.

  Oliver put out a hand. “I didn’t mean to be rude. Let me ask you something.”

  Cherry smiled ruefully and sat back down. “You want to know more?”

  “Yes. I want to know if you’ll work for me.”

  “I already do,” said Cherry sharply.

  “I mean in an advisory capacity. What do you do now? Cleaning? Something like that?” he asked in a dismissive tone.

  “You’d soon notice if it wasn’t done,” retorted Cherry stiffly.

  “Yes, of course,” he replied. “I understand it’s important, but I’m talking about something else. I’m offering you a job advising me on what you consider guests want from this hotel. If you want to do the cleaning as well, I’m not going to stop you.” He smiled at her for the first time and her heart leapt. She found herself grinning inanely back at him. “You’ll consider it, then?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Just like that? Aren’t you going to ask about hours and pay? Or conditions of work?”

  “I didn’t realise this was an interview.” Then a thought struck her. “Is it extra money, then? What’s so funny?”

  This time, Oliver’s laughter rumbled out infectiously and Cherry joined in.

  * * *

  “I can’t turn it down, Pat. I need the money. But how I’m going to fit it all in, goodness knows.”

  “If I can help, I will,” said Pat.

  Cherry put an arm around her friend. “Thank you. It means a lot that you’ve said it, but I must be able to be here for Jay. He’s my responsibility.”

  “Yours and Alan’s,” replied Pat.

  Cherry stared at her, her eyes wide. “I’m surprised he hasn’t been in touch. I wonder why I haven’t heard from him.”

  “So he doesn’t know about the boat?”

  Cherry clapped her hands to her head. “Doh! I’ll ring him tonight. It will please him that we’re not living on the boat anymore. Jay can speak to him as well. Thank you, Pat.”

  * * *

  After speaking to Alan and arranging for a delighted Jay to spend his holidays with his dad, Cherry and Jay went for a walk along the riverbank. André had given them some stale crusts and, although it was past their usual feeding time, a few ducks and birds paddled over to them and pecked at the bread Jay offered.

  “I miss the birds, Mum.”

  “But you are happy in the chalet, aren’t you love?” asked Cherry anxiously.

  “S’pose so. I don’t really mind where we are. Can we call on the lock-keeper? I did a drawing for him at school.” Cherry watched as he carefully pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. He looked up at Cherry with serious, vulnerable china-blue eyes. She was caught in a flood of love as she bent to hug him.

  “Careful, don’t scrunch it up,” he said, giving her a hasty peck on the cheek.

  Chapter Four

  Cherry answered the phone in the bedroom she was cleaning and was surprised to hear Pat say, “Found you at last! Oliver wants to see you in his office, now. You’d better leave what you’re doing. If you don’t have time to finish I’ll give you a hand later.”

  Cherry couldn’t think why Oliver would want to see her so urgently unless he knew about the chalet. With a sinking feeling she said, “He’s found out, hasn’t he? Oh, Pat, what will we do? I’ll lose my job as well as our new home. And you’ll be in trouble.”

  “He didn’t look very cross when I saw him. He was practically dancing down the corridor when he asked me to find you.”

  “That’s a relief. Maybe it’s to do with this new role I’m supposed to have. Can you imagine me being his adviser?”

  “Yes, but for heaven’s sake stop talking and go to see him.”

  Cherry giggled. Wait until she told Alan. His new wife was high flying, something to do with equity, which she, simple Cherry, would never be able to understand. Alan was always raving about how clever Imogen was, how much money she made. She pushed the vacuum cleaner to one side, tidied the cloths she’d been using, then checked the mirror. She looked an awful mess. That morning she hadn’t had time to do anything with her hair except quickly run a brush through it and tie it back and she looked rather pale. She pulled out the scrunchie, fluffed up her hair, then rubbed her cheeks to give them a bit of colour. Quickly she headed out of the room and ran down the stairs. In reception she noticed the flower arrangement had shed some petals. She stopped to bury her face in the bunc
h of roses and breathe in the scent, then quickly swept the fallen petals into her hand and dropped them in the bin. She liked things to be ship-shape. She’d always felt at home on the boat.

  Oliver was busy at his desk. “Have a seat, Cherry. I’ll be with you in a minute.” Cherry had a chance to admire his broad shoulders and strong hands and wanted more than anything to walk round the desk and be taken in his arms. Gazing out of the window, she imagined the two of them, strolling hand-in-hand by the river, then sitting beside it and dangling their feet in the water. The sun would be shining and he’d throw back his head with a roar of laughter. Or they’d sit on the grass under the big willow and share some bread, cheese and wine. They’d clink glasses and drink to their future. Then they’d lie close together on the grass looking up at the sky through the branches.

  “Cherry?” Oliver was looking puzzled. “You were miles away.”

  “Sorry.” He certainly wouldn’t want to employ a daydreamer like her. She tried to look attentive and intelligent. Maybe Alan had been right when he’d told her during one of their rows that she’d never make anything of herself.

  “I wanted to talk to you about the conference.”

  “Conference? What conference?”

  “It’s for hoteliers to help us make the most of our locations. It’s called, making the most of your situation,” enthused Oliver. “I’ve just booked two places for us. Is that okay? It should help us work out exactly how to make the best use of the river and the other amenities in the grounds. I’ve been thinking we could have crazy golf. I was also wondering about pony trekking along the river path. Perhaps you could check out the local stables. See what they have to say about that.”

  Cherry hastily scribbled on the notepad he’d pushed towards her.

  “We also need to find out about fishing rights on this stretch of the river. If we take a few ideas with us we can see what the experts think. We’re off on Monday and we’re going to be away three days. I have an itinerary here and all the talks and workshops look useful. There are also a couple of tours to places of interest and there’s a boat trip which I think we should go on as you’re so keen on rivers and water. And there are some motivating after-dinner speakers too. There may even be dancing into the early hours.” His green eyes twinkled. “That’s the plan then, if you’re willing to go.”