The Long Way Home: A moving saga of lost family

by Whitmee, Jeanne

  Making discreet enquiries, she learned that the previous owner had put in a manager who had absconded with the takings. ‘The Marina’s’ rundown state had nothing to do with lack of business. She obtained permission to view and as she went from room to room excitement grew within her like a bubble. She could see enormous possibilities for the place. That evening she went to David with an idea that almost took his breath away.

  ‘Suppose we were to sell “Homeleigh” and buy “The Marina” — do with it what we’ve done here, only on a larger scale.’

  David gasped. It was a gigantic risk; one that terrified him. Marie seemed to have looked into it carefully enough and by now he had come to trust her judgement, but he found the thought of starting all over again at his age daunting to say the least. Looking at her sparkling eyes he wondered how he could refuse without disappointing her.

  ‘I don’t know, love,’ he said, rubbing his chin. ‘It’d be a mighty big project. We don’t want to bite off more than we can chew. I’m the wrong side of sixty now, you know. By rights I should be thinking about retiring.’

  ‘But it’s such a marvellous opportunity,’ she urged him. ‘The place is going really cheap.’

  ‘Anyone happen to tell you that the country’s economy is in a bad way?’ David asked wryly.

  ‘Yes. And that’s why this is the right time,’ Marie insisted. ‘Because of the recession that thrift back to British holidays is coming, just as Mr Shelton said it would, and we want to be ready for it, don’t we?’ When David looked doubtful she asked gently: ‘What is it, David? It’s more than just your age and the financial risk that’s stopping you, isn’t it?’

  He smiled. She knew him so well, this girl who had come to be as dear as a daughter to him. ‘You know how I feel about this place, love,’ he said. ‘It’s more than just a business to me. It’s home too. Look, you’re bright. You’re still in your twenties, and you have a good business head on your shoulders. You could get a good job in hotel management anywhere. Why, at your age you could even take out a mortgage and buy “The Marina” for yourself. I’ll even lend you some money if you like. You don’t want an old man like me dragging you down. Why don’t you just let me retire?’

  ‘Retire?’ Marie stared at him incredulously. ‘David, you’re not old yet. You’re still fit and well and you love the hotel business, you know you do. If you retired you’d have to leave here anyway. Sell up and buy a bungalow, spend your days going to the public library and mowing the lawn — is that really what you want?’ She leaned towards him in that persuasive way of hers and he knew even then that he was losing the fight.

  ‘All right then,’ he said with a resigned smile. ‘Let’s hear this plan of yours.’

  ‘Right. Well, to begin with, if we bought a place the size of “The Marina” we’d have to employ a full staff, including a chef. You could put your feet up and live comfortably. It’d be a kind of retirement, but you’d still be in the business.’ She looked at him. ‘I don’t want to do it alone, David. I could never leave you. You’re my family — the only person I’ve ever known who didn’t let me down.’ She covered his hand with hers and looked at him, her dark blue Irish eyes full of appeal. He was deeply touched.

  David went along with Marie’s plan. They sold ‘Homeleigh’ at a profit that staggered him, and put all of the money into ‘The Marina’. The builder’s estimate for the refurbishments caused him many a sleepless night but Marie didn’t turn a hair. She was so sure that what they were doing was right. And when at last the work was all finished he had to admit that it had been worthwhile. Newly plastered in gleaming white, with the sign freshly gilded, it looked smart and inviting. On the sea-facing terrace, now sheltered from the elements by a glass roof, coloured umbrellas fluttered like a crop of bright flowers. Inside, all the rooms were tastefully furnished, each with an en-suite bathroom. They had everything from tea-making facilities to hair dryers, and in each of the two honeymoon suites a bottle of champagne waited to welcome the happy couple.

  But it was the dining room that was Marie’s pride and joy. Situated at the rear of the building it lacked the benefit of a sea view and decoration had posed a problem but Marie had hit on the idea of mirrored walls, which gave the required illusion of space and light. The floor was carpeted in deep blue, and glittering crystal chandeliers, their twinkling light reflected again and again in the mirrors, gave it an ambiance of glamour. Double glass doors opened into it from the lounge where guests sipped their preprandial drinks.

  It was because she was so proud of the dining room that Marie hit on the idea of launching ‘The Marina’s’ re-opening with a champagne dinner. David was doubtful about the expense. The project had already cost more than they had bargained for. But Marie convinced him that they would not lose. She invited all the town’s most influential people, and journalists — not only from the local press but some from the nationally published magazines they had advertised with during the past years. Not all of them came, but those who did were clearly impressed.

  The evening was a great success and was rewarded by a centre-page spread in the local paper and an article in Leisureways, the popular holiday magazine. In spite of David’s misgivings the two articles brought them enough business to pay for the dinner twice over; but it was the article in Leisureways that indirectly brought them a surprising and unexpected visitor, one who — although she didn’t realise it at the time — was to have a far-reaching and fateful effect on Marie’s future.

  She was manning the reception desk herself when he arrived. It was mid-afternoon and the receptionist was taking her break. Marie looked up from typing bills to find a tall broad-shouldered man facing her across the desk. He had a compelling presence and the moment Marie looked into the piercing dark eyes she recognised that here was a man who commanded attention wherever he went.

  She smiled. ‘Good afternoon. Can I help you?’

  ‘I’m looking for Mr Evans. Mr David Evans.’ Marie lifted the house telephone and began to dial. ‘I’ll ring and see if he’s available. Your name, sir?’

  ‘Ralph Evans. I’m his son.’

  ‘Oh!’ Shocked, Marie stared at him. ‘In that case, I’m sure he’d want …’ She broke off as David’s voice spoke into her ear.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘David, it’s Marie. I’m in Reception. You have a visitor. It’s …’

  Ralph held up his hand, frowning and shaking his head. ‘I’d like to surprise him,’ he whispered.

  But Marie was uneasy. It was some time since David had seen his son. Certainly not in the six years that she had been working for him. It could come as quite a shock. At the other end of the telephone, puzzled by the long silence, David asked: ‘Is everything all right down there, Marie?’

  ‘Yes — yes, fine.’

  ‘Okay, I’m on my way down.’

  Marie put down the receiver and looked at Ralph. ‘He’s coming.’ For the first time she looked properly at Ralph Evans, her employer’s son. He wore civilian clothes, a tweed jacket, well-cut trousers and expensive-looking casual shoes, yet he failed to look relaxed in them. Marie felt instinctively that he would feel and look happier in uniform. He was handsome in a dark, slightly predatory way, with thick curling dark hair and a well-trimmed moustache. She observed that he wasn’t in the least like his father, either in looks or stature.

  ‘Would you like to take a seat over there, Mr Evans?’ she invited. ‘Frankly, I don’t feel surprising your father is a good idea. I think 1 should warn him. It’s been some time since he’s seen you, hasn’t it?’

  ‘He’s all right, isn’t he?’

  ‘Oh, yes, he’s fine. I just think it would be kinder.’ His brows came together and for a moment she thought he was going to ask her what business it was of hers. Then he seemed to change his mind. With a shrug he walked across the reception lounge, picked up a magazine and sat down behind a bank of leafy plants. A moment later the lift doors opened and David emerged. He looked around the reception hall the
n looked at Marie enquiringly.

  ‘David.’ She leaned across the desk. ‘This may be a slight shock for you. A pleasant one I’m sure. Your visitor — it’s your son.’

  David’s eyes widened. ‘Ralph? Here? But — how?’

  ‘I read the article about you in Leisureways. In the dentist’s, of all places, would you believe?’ Ralph stood up and began to walk towards them. ‘It made me feel guilty for losing touch — for letting things slide between us, Dad. I had some leave due, so I thought I’d come and see you.’

  Almost beside himself with delight, David grasped his son’s hand and shook it warmly. ‘Ralph — Ralph, my boy. It’s good to see you. You must come upstairs. Have you had lunch? Have you booked in anywhere? You must stay here of course, mustn’t he, Marie?’ She and Ralph exchanged a look and smiled warily at each other.

  Suddenly David stopped speaking, looking from one to the other. ‘Ralph, I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced you properly. This is Marie. She’s my right-hand woman. If it wasn’t for her I’d be …’ He laughed. ‘Heaven only knows where I’d be by now. On the dole most likely.’

  Ralph’s eyebrows rose a fraction and he eyed Marie with a grudging respect. Up till now he’d taken her for a receptionist, and a slightly officious one at that. Holding out his hand, he said: ‘Well, glad to know you, Marie. We must have a talk. I can’t wait to hear the inside story of this new venture you and Dad have embarked on.’ He looked around him with approval. ‘I must say I’m impressed.’

  Marie glowed with pride. ‘Well, we like it, but then we’re a little bit prejudiced.’

  ‘It’s all her work,’ David put in generously. ‘The credit is all Marie’s.’ He took his son’s arm and led him towards the lift. ‘Come upstairs to the flat, son.’ Over his shoulder he said to Marie: ‘When Jenny comes back from her break you will join us, won’t you?’

  She nodded, lifting the telephone. ‘I’ll have some tea sent up for you and I’ll be up as soon as I can.’

  When Marie joined them in the flat on the top floor, David and Ralph were chatting as though they’d been together only last week. The prodigal’s return, she thought to herself. To her surprise she felt a pang of something approaching jealousy. Much as she loved him, David was not her father, he was Ralph’s, and blood was thicker than water, in spite of neglect. But as soon as he saw her David drew her warmly into the conversation, making her resentment quickly fade away.

  ‘You’ll never guess what,’ he said excitedly. ‘Ralph is leaving the army. He has just three more months to serve and then he’ll be looking for a job. I’ve told him he must come and work with us, mustn’t he?’

  Must he? Marie saw no earthly reason why. She looked from father to son and back again. Quick to sense her resentment, Ralph laughed.

  ‘I don’t think your-partner shares your enthusiasm, Dad,’ he said.

  The slight hesitation before the word ‘partner’ and the speculative way he looked at her made her cheeks burn. The dark eyes seemed to strip her of everything. It was as though she stood before him, not only naked but transparent too; as though he saw right through her and knew everything there was to know about her — and more.

  ‘Oh, n-no,’ she stammered. ‘I was just surprised, that’s all.’

  ‘With the season just starting we need all the help we can get,’ David hurried on. ‘Another pair of hands won’t come amiss, eh?’

  ‘No. No, of course not.’ But Marie was put out. They had engaged all the staff they needed, discussing each appointment thoroughly. Their first season’s budget was balanced on a knife-edge. With the loan to pay back and some of the bills still outstanding, this year they’d be lucky to break even. That David should impulsively offer his son a job — especially when there was no job — irked her more than a little. To hide her flushed cheeks she bent forward to pour the tea.

  ‘You’re Irish, aren’t you?’

  Her head snapped up at Ralph’s sudden observation. ‘Yes. But I haven’t lived there for a long time. I thought I’d lost my accent.’

  ‘You have — almost.’ Ralph smiled at her, his eyes narrowing like a cat’s. ‘But I’ve been serving in Ireland for several years, so you see I have the advantage of being specially attuned to it.’

  ‘What part of Ireland?’ As she passed David a cup it took all of her control to keep her hand from shaking.

  ‘Belfast — with the military police. And I’ll be glad to wave it goodbye, I can tell you.’

  ‘It can’t be easy, being a British soldier there.’

  Ralph smiled again, and the hard, dark eyes suddenly warmed and melted, totally disarming her. ‘Don’t worry, Marie,’ he said softly. ‘I shan’t be taking up Dad’s offer of a job. I’ve already got one lined up. I’m off up to London tomorrow to make the final arrangements.’

  ‘Oh, but I wasn’t — I didn’t mean …’

  He reached out to pat her arm. ‘You have Dad’s business interests at heart. I can see that. No doubt it would have upset your book keeping. I understand.’

  Marie glanced surreptitiously at her watch. ‘You’ll stay for dinner though — and for the night? We do have room.’

  ‘Of course he will,’ David put in. ‘I’ve already made sure of that. We shall all dine together.’

  ‘And afterwards you two must go out for a drink together,’ she added, eager to compensate for the gaffe she had made. ‘You must have so much to say to each other.’

  *

  Ralph Evans was impressed with everything he saw that evening. It was early in the season and the hotel was only about half full, but everything, from his comfortable, well-appointed room with its little wrought-iron balcony overlooking the sea to the excellent dinner the three of them shared, made it clear that his father was on to a winner. It was also clear to Ralph that Marie O’Connor was the brains behind it all.

  Later, as he sat beside David in the car, he said: ‘So all this success of yours is down to Miss O’Connor?’

  David smiled proudly. ‘It certainly is.’

  Ralph looked at his father speculatively. ‘Last time I came to visit you were running that little boarding house place.’

  David nodded. ‘And I’d have been there now if someone hadn’t come along to give me a much needed shot in the arm. Business was falling off alarmingly after Megan died and when Marie came to work for me she made me realise that I had to do something drastic to save this place from going under. We refurbished and extended “Homeleigh”, built it up as a very profitable small hotel. Then Marie found “The Marina”. It was rundown and neglected — going at a bargain price, so we sold up and took a chance on it.’

  Ralph was silent. ‘You make it all sound very simple and straightforward,’ he said. ‘I suspect there was a lot more careful organisation to it than you say.’

  David nodded, his eyes on the road. ‘You’re right there. Marie’s got a good business head and she’s young — ready to take risks.’

  Take them with someone else’s money, Ralph mused. Unless … He watched his father’s profile thoughtfully. ‘I hope you won’t take exception to me asking, Dad, but just what is your relationship with Marie?’

  David shot him a startled look. ‘Good God, there’s nothing like that between us. Marie came along needing a job and a home just when I needed help. As it happened we suited each other down to the ground — business-wise, I mean.’ He smiled wryly. ‘I suspect I got the better side of the deal though. I don’t know what I would have done without her.’

  They drove in silence for a while then Ralph said: ‘You referred to her as your right-hand woman. Am I to take it that she has a financial interest in the business?’

  ‘No. Marie hasn’t any money except what I pay her. But it is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately,’ David said. ‘She’s invested more than mere cash into my business. Maybe I should make her position more attractive before someone tempts her away with a better offer.’

  Sitting in the quiet lounge bar of a small pub
later with drinks before them on the table, Ralph asked: ‘Tell me — how did you find Marie? After all, she isn’t a local girl.’

  David took a long pull of his beer. ‘It was through a girl who used to come for holidays at “Homeleigh” with her parents when she was a kiddie. She came down for a weekend on her own. I happened to mention that I needed someone and she suggested Marie.’

  ‘I see. I take it she was a friend of hers?’

  ‘That’s right. Hannah is a social worker.’ David was a little uneasy, wondering if he had said too much. Could Ralph possibly suspect something about Marie’s past? After all, he had been in Ireland for some time. He shook off his anxiety. Old habits died hard, he told himself. Once a policeman, always a policeman.

  ‘You’re quite sure you wouldn’t like to work with us?’ he asked.

  Ralph shook his head. ‘As I said, I have this job in London lined up. Anyway, you seem very nicely set up for staff at the moment.’

  ‘There’s always room for a member of the family,’ David said. ‘Blood is thicker than water, after all.’ Ralph studied his glass in silence for a moment. ‘What kind of work did you have in mind for me, Dad? Barman — porter or something?’

  David looked shocked. ‘Good heavens, no. Look, I’m getting on a bit now. I’ll soon be wanting to take a back seat. It occurs to me that you and Marie would make a good team. Eventually you could run the place together.’

  Ralph’s eyes flickered with interest, then he shook his head again. ‘Better wait and see, eh? I’ve a feeling that Marie isn’t so keen to have me aboard as you are.’

  David smiled. ‘When I was your age I’d have seen that as a challenge. She’s an attractive girl after all.’

  Ralph was silent. Marie wasn’t his idea of an attractive girl. He liked a woman who dressed in up-to-the-minute fashions; one who wore sexy make-up and had her hair done regularly — put herself out to please a man. But Marie had potential, he’d give her that — naturally blonde hair and good features. She just needed taking in hand …