‘Why, my dear! All this!’ Charlotte waved a hand, encompassing the entire company.
‘I’ll admit I was nervous at first. I thought no one would come on such a beastly night,’ said Mercy, deliberately misunderstanding her. ‘As you see, my fears were completely groundless.’
‘That was not what I meant, as well you know. You may put on a smiling face, but you don’t fool me! I know you too well! I know that inside you are all anguish! Suffering for the rape of your beautiful home!’
This was too much for Mercy, and she hooted with laughter.
‘Oh Charlotte, you are funny!’ she giggled.
‘Well you are! You must be!’
‘I’m not, I assure you. I think that running an hotel is going to be fun! Extremely hard work, but fun! I confess, the more I think of it the more I like the prospect of the years ahead. Apart from anything else, it will be a challenge. Surely you, of all people, can appreciate the enjoyment in that?’
‘No, I can’t,’ said Charlotte flatly. ‘Having to alter one’s whole way of living! Being nice to perfect strangers every day. I think it sounds awful. Peter will hate it even if you don’t!’
There Charlotte might have a point, conceded Mercy privately, and she glanced over towards her husband. He was animatedly chatting with a couple of friends and some of the hotel guests. She recognized the stocky figure of Mr Dobson from Hong Kong, so she guessed they were talking yachting. Certainly, they were all absorbed in the conversation.
‘Peter certainly doesn’t look like a man having a miserable time,’ she said.
‘He’s not one to betray his true feelings to the whole world.’ Charlotte was not going to give up her point of view. ‘And nor are you, though I can see you are determined to pretend otherwise. And I shall do my utmost to help you, no matter what you say. I will get all my friends to come and stay here. They’ll rally round—’
‘It’s very kind of you,’ Mercy broke in. ‘But I must make one thing clear. Much as we want to encourage people to come, we’ve no wish to have you regard us as one of your good causes. We would welcome any friend of yours here, you know we would, but only if they really want to come. Please don’t go round dragooning people into spending their holidays at the Villa Dorata.’
‘Would I do such a thing?’
‘Yes!’
Charlotte gave an indignant sniff. ‘There isn’t only you and Peter to consider, you know. There’s that poor brother of yours. That limp of his tears my heart. After all he’s done for our country…
‘And Joey has no wish to be regarded as a good cause either!’ Mercy warned firmly. ‘If there’s one thing he hates it’s being thought of as an object for charity – because he’s not! He’s perfectly capable of working for his living, and so are we! We’re planning to do an honest job honestly, and I see no reason why we should feel any shame or distress about it.’
‘If you feel so strongly about it… !’ Charlotte was clearly taken aback by the force of Mercy’s comments.
Mercy was somewhat surprised at herself. Not so long ago she, too, would have seen their present situation as a disaster. Having striven so hard to belong in the privileged, leisurely world inhabited by Charlotte and her ilk it was quite astonishing to find she did not at all mind leaving it.
‘There! Now I’ve got that off my chest, won’t you have something to drink? You could try one of Harry’s cocktails, or whatever else you prefer.’
‘The cocktails look intriguing.’ Charlotte removed one from a passing tray, all the while her eyes firmly fixed on Joey. ‘I’d no idea you had such a handsome brother, you know.’
‘Oh yes, a handsome younger brother,’ Mercy stressed with a grin.
‘All right, there’s no need to be so emphatic. I don’t go in for cradle-snatching. Besides, he’s married, I believe. I must say his little wife is very smart.’
Mercy was puzzled. She had never considered her sister-in-law to be either little or smart. Certainly not in the new dress she had bought for the occasion. The style was fashionable enough, but the fabric, a maroon sateen, had not been a happy choice for Queenie’s plump figure. Then she saw the direction of Charlotte’s gaze. Joey was talking to Lord Alston, and by his side was Angie Bolton. A very trim Angie Bolton, in an elegant black lace dress which suited her slim figure to perfection.
‘That’s not Joey’s wife, it’s Miss Bolton,’ she said, in a casual voice.
She was annoyed at Joey for inviting the girl and for making such a fuss of her in public. It had been a hard enough job getting Queenie to come to the reception in the first place, without him humiliating her. Mercy made up her mind to have a sharp word with her young brother – then she had second thoughts. It was Joey’s business, after all, and what right had she to interfere? The memory of Gunther was suddenly very vivid. She did not think of him often now, but she knew that, for her, some small part of him would always live on. No, she was the last person to advise someone else on how to conduct their marriage. Instead she went in search of Queenie, to give comfort and reassurance, and to persuade her to come out of her hiding-place.
She was not successful. Queenie had taken refuge in the wireless lounge, and insisted she was quite happy listening to Henry Hall and his orchestra. When Mercy returned to the party she was struck by the noise, the persistent hum of people having fun. Outside, the summer rain lashed against the windows. Inside everyone was enjoying themselves, she could see it in their faces, she could hear it in the timbre of their voices.
Across the room she caught Peter’s eye. He raised his glass to her, and silently mouthed the words, ‘To success!’ Smiling, she raised her own glass and replied, ‘Success assured!’
Chapter Nineteen
Dulcie Manning gazed about the lounge, her pale blue eyes taking in the comfortable chairs upholstered in pretty chintz, and the numerous bowls of fresh flowers.
‘Who lives here, did you say?’ she asked.
‘Our friends, Captain and Mrs Lisburne,’ her nephew, Henry, explained patiently for the third time. ‘It’s an hotel, a very nice one, and we wondered if you would like to stay here.’
‘Won’t your friends mind me coming to live with them?’
‘No, they would be very pleased,’ said Henry.
‘How extraordinary! I wouldn’t like it if a perfect stranger come to live with me.’
‘That’s because you don’t own an hotel, and Captain and Mrs Lisburne do,’ Henry answered.
‘I don’t think I would like to own an hotel!’
Henry Manning shot Mercy an apologetic look. Admirable though his patience was he did not seem to be getting through to his aunt. Then suddenly Miss Manning said briskly, ‘Very well, I’ll come and live here - but only if I can have the room with the nice fluffy pink rug!’
‘Certainly you can have that room,’ said Mercy, much relieved they were making progress at last.
‘Good, then we’d better go home to get my things! Come along, Henry! Come along, Lilian! Don’t dawdle!’ Miss Manning set off for the front door at a great rate.
‘Thank goodness that’s settled!’ exclaimed Lilian, as she and Henry hurried after the old lady. This is one of her bad days, she isn’t always like this. You’ll find she’s a dear really.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ replied Mercy. She wondered if they were going to regret having Miss Manning as a permanent guest. It was too late to do anything about it now, though.
‘So the Mannings’ aunt is definitely staying?’ queried Peter, as Mercy entered the office. ‘Good, I’ll make a note of it. A few more like her would be good for business.’
‘I’m not so sure—’ began Mercy. Before she could express her doubts she was interrupted by Joey’s voice raised in anger.
‘From the left, you fool!’ he was yelling. ‘How many times do I have to tell you to serve from the left?’
Mercy raised an inquiring eyebrow.
‘Your brother is holding a training session for some of the waiters in th
e dining room,’ Peter explained. There followed a metallic crash, as though from a dropped tray, and the unmistakable sound of falling cutlery. ‘Seemingly he’s having problems.’
‘He’s really hard on those poor souls. I’m surprised, I never thought he had it in him to be such a perfectionist.’
‘If he’s not careful he’s going to achieve the exact opposite of what he intends. One thing we don’t want is nervous waiters. Trembling hands and serving food do not go together.’
‘Gawd, ‘ark at your Joey – I mean Mr Seaton,’ remarked Dolly, appearing round the corner. ‘’E’m really going for some poor soul! And to think of the times I’ve clipped ’e over the ear’ole!’
‘I wouldn’t recommend you trying it now,’ advised Mercy.
‘I won’t,’ grinned Dolly. ‘Though I reckons someone should go to the rescue of the poor lad as is getting the sharp end of ’is tongue! But that’s not what I come for. I come to let you know the missing laundry’s turned up. Got sent over to the Marine Spa by mistake, would you believe! Does that mean I can phone Ma ’Oskins and complain?’
‘Complain away,’ smiled Mercy. ‘Only, please use the phone in the porter’s room, well away from innocent ears.’
‘She’s right, you know,’ said Peter, as Dolly hurried away.
‘What, to complain about the missing laundry?’
‘No. Someone should have a word with Joey about his attitude. He’s far too hard on the staff.’
‘Yes, you’re right. And I suppose the someone had better be me.’ Mercy gave a sigh. ‘He’s sure to accuse me of interfering. We did agree that staff training was to be his province.’
‘That doesn’t mean we have to remain totally silent. I’ve an awful suspicion we may have already done that once too often over the appointment of the chef.’
‘Over Lucien?’ She looked at him in astonishment. ‘What objections can you possibly have to him? He cooks superbly, and he has impeccable references.’
‘Yes, his cooking and his references are fine. I wish I could say the same about the man himself. There’s something about him which makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain it – he hasn’t done anything or said a word out of turn – I only know that if he had been under my command in the Army I’d have had a quiet word with the sergeant major to keep a watchful eye on him. And speaking of sergeant majors, things have gone very quiet in the dining room. He must have finished the training session. Would you prefer it if I had a word with Joey?’
‘No, I’ll tackle him.’
‘Brave girl. If you need any help just yell.’
‘Help? I don’t need any help with my own brother. Dolly isn’t the only one who’s clipped him over the ear, you know.’ Mercy chuckled. The smile soon left her face as she entered the dining room to find her brother looking like thunder.
‘Idiots! That’s what we’ve taken on!’ he complained. ‘You’d think some of them had never seen a knife and fork before, never mind tried to lay them on a table.’
‘You are a bit impatient with them, you know.’
‘Impatient? How can you say such a thing? I repeat myself time after time, and still it doesn’t go in! I shudder to think how they’d have fared at the Devonshire Hall under old Mabel. Once was the only telling you got there.’
‘And once is all you’d need. You’re quick to pick things up, haven’t I always said so? You must remember that not everyone is as bright as you.’
Joey’s angry look slowly melted into a grin.
‘Don’t stop,’ he said. ‘I can take all the flattery you care to dish out.’
‘It’s not flattery, it’s the truth. The trouble is that being quick-witted yourself sometimes makes you intolerant of anyone slower. A bit of encouragement works wonders. Haven’t you found it so at Seaton’s?’
‘No, can’t say I have. No encouragement of mine would make a jot of difference to Queenie or Millie. And as for Angie, she’s so bright she…’ his voice tailed away. ‘All right, Sis, point taken. I’ll talk to them all like a Dutch uncle, and see if that works.’
‘It will depend on how many of them understand Dutch,’ replied Mercy, making a quick retreat as her brother suddenly advanced on her, a wet mopping-up cloth in his hand.
‘Tut-tut, such hilarity won’t do!’ said Peter with mock severity as she sought refuge in the office. ‘What will people think?’
‘Does it matter what people think?’ she asked.
‘Does it matter? Just listen to the woman!’ He pretended to be shocked. ‘The whole of civilization as we know it is founded upon what people think!’
‘Nonsense!’ said Mercy, then she kissed him lightly on the top of the head, and hurried back to her own duties.
As she ran upstairs Peter’s jocular words rang in her head, making her think seriously about them. Now the hotel was under way it was interesting to note other people’s reactions to their altered circumstances.
Their real friends, such as Charlotte, Lord Alston and the Mannings had proved they did not care at all. Some acquaintances, however, had been less generous. Recently Mercy had found herself cut dead or treated to the frostiest of greetings, by people who, less than a year before, had been only too delighted to welcome her into their homes. Strangely enough, in the very worrying months when the finances at the Villa Dorata had been at their most critical, these same people had been mostly sympathetic, even kind. Only the news that the Lisburnes were going into the hotel business had brought about the chilly transformation.
Mercy found it odd that genteel poverty should be regarded as socially quite acceptable, but actively doing something to avoid that poverty was not.
Uppity rubbish! One of Blanche’s favourite phrases rang in her head so clearly it was as if her grandmother had actually spoken to her. Yes, Blanche would have made short shrift of those with such disparaging airs and graces. She would have been right, too, Mercy decided. Opening an hotel had not lost her the friendship of a single person she cared about. The standoffish attitude of a few snobs was not worth the loss of any sleep.
The reaction of her children to their new way of life was a different matter. It had been varied. Jennifer was young enough to find the novelty of the situation exciting. William, too, had taken it remarkably well. Ever a boy who liked order and familiarity his first question had, ‘Does this mean I’ll have to go to a different school?’
‘No, you won’t need to change,’ Mercy had assured him.
‘That’s all right then.’ His relief had been evident. ‘I wouldn’t have wanted to leave my friends. And we’ll still be living here, won’t we?’
‘Yes, but things will be rather different, I’m afraid.’
He considered for a moment. ‘Not as different as going to live in Africa, though. I’m not sure I would have liked that. As for this hotel thing, well I suppose it can’t be helped. When Jenson minor’s people lost their money he had to leave school and start work as an office boy. It must have been awful!’
Mercy did not know Jenson minor, but she felt grateful to him. His plight had clearly left a marked impression on William, making her boy feel quite fortunate by comparison.
Oddly enough it was John, normally so easy-going, who found the situation the hardest to bear. At first he did not say much, but it became marked that he now spent as little time at home as possible, preferring to holiday with friends or go on camping trips organized by the school – anything sooner than spend time at the Villa Dorata. When he was home he became quite surly and difficult.
‘Why should I have to do anything simply because some beastly strangers have taken over our house?’ he protested one day when Mercy asked him to move his bicycle from the the terrace.
‘They aren’t beastly. Most of them are jolly nice,’ his mother replied. ‘Far too nice to fall over your bicycle and hurt themselves.’
‘Oh, I hate being poor!’ John strode angrily about the room. ‘Why did Father have to lose all our money!’
‘Your father did no suc
h thing!’ retorted Mercy. ‘It was the combined effect of the war and the Russian Revolution, as well you know. Lots of other people were affected too and are in a far worse state than us. We’re the lucky ones!’
‘I don’t think we’re lucky! And I loathe living in abject poverty!’
Mercy tried not to laugh.
‘I realize this flat is somewhat smaller than we’re accustomed to, yet I wouldn’t call it abject poverty,’ she said. ‘I consider it to be very pleasant and comfortable.’ Then seeing that her words had no effect on her son she continued, ‘Shall I tell you what abject poverty is? It’s being packed in an overcrowded cottage that’s damp and insanitary, with a smelly earth privy in the garden and a pump by the back door. It’s breaking your back working for ten hours a day, then walking three miles home because you haven’t the few coppers for the bus fare. At your age your Uncle Joey was out in all weathers, clearing stones from the fields. Many a time I’ve seen him crying because his hands hurt him so much, but it didn’t stop him being out again at first light. We depended on the few pence he brought home, and he knew it. No matter what state his hands were in, he had to go! Squalor, hunger and ugliness, they are part of abject poverty! But worst of all there’s having no hope! Knowing you’re trapped by circumstances and there’s no way of escape, no matter how hard you try!’
John stared at her, his eyes wide. It was not often she spoke to the children of her early days. In truth, Mercy was startled herself. She had not intended to speak with such intensity.
‘I didn’t know… I hadn’t realized…’ John said.
‘You still don’t, not really,’ Mercy answered softly. ‘And that’s the way it should be. You and William and Jennifer, you’ll never live the sort of life I did when I was young. Believe me, having to run an hotel is a very small price to pay for escaping conditions like that!’
John said nothing, he merely look uncomfortably red in the face. Then he said very quietly, ‘I’ll go and move my bike,’ and left the room.
Mercy continued to gaze out of the window, too wrapped up in her thoughts to notice the white-capped waves in the bay, or passing gulls which swooped and skimmed over the water. How strong was her fear of poverty! She had never recognized it before, not until she had spoken to John, but it had always been there, she saw that now. Reaching out she picked up the tablecloth she had been taking to the linen-room before John’s bicycle had diverted her attention. With her fingers she traced the embroidered monogram in the corner. ‘Villa Dorata Hotel’ it read in stitched letters. Three words that suddenly meant security. She was being given a second chance to escape poverty. It was a chance she had no intention of letting slip by!
To Dream Again Page 41