She would never in a million years take his credit card and buy herself stuff. She stared hard at the gold winking at her in the glare of the bright winter sun. Then she did take it. She slid the shiny plastic off the table and into her purse.
She skipped down the corridor and took the red carpeted stairs and went out onto the streets of London’s East End. Canary Wharf was buzzing and Sandra took in the lively Arts scene, hip boutiques and the treasure-filled markets. She browsed happily and stepped into a café to buy a hot chocolate. She walked the streets as she sipped her drink. She was taken aback by how busy London was – it was a lifetime away from the sleepy village she loved so much. She would avoid the Tube as distant memories of standing on the wrong side of the escalator on her first ever Gatwick overnight still haunted her.
She started to shop but she bought only for Jamie. She got him new aftershave, vintage sweets and various cookery books.
There was an old Aer Lingus haunt that the staff used regularly in London very near the Four Seasons, called The Gloucester – she would go down and see who was there. Would any of the old girls still be working?
She pushed open the heavy glass bar door and poked her head in. The smell of bleach and coffee burned her nose.
“Jimmy!”
The Scottish barman was still there.
“Sandra Loughnane! A miss’t ya! Whit’s new?”
She hugged Jimmy tightly and then escaped his always-too-close hugs for a seat at the bar.
“Whit d’ye dae for a livin’ now?” He wiped down the bar with his grey dishcloth.
She looked around. A few stewardesses stood in a circle gossiping about the pilots at the other end of the bar. Nothing changes, does it, Sandra thought.
“I’m in the hotel industry now, Jimmy,” she replied as she ordered a black coffee and pushed her bags in towards the bar.
“Och! That’s guid!” He turned and lifted the coffee pot and poured Sandra a large black coffee.
If her memory served her correctly it was not going to be hot.
“Here ye gae,” Jimmy added some sachets of sugar to the side of the saucer.
“Sandra Loughnane?” a voice came from the other side of her. “It is you! How are you?” The man stood up and approached her seat. She’d know those piercing blue eyes anywhere.
“Alex Charles! Jeekers, it’s been years!”
They hugged.
“I thought you rerouted to Dubai?” she asked as the other man took the free seat beside her.
“I did. I had a few personal issues. I actually have a meeting scheduled in London this week for a desk job, believe it or not. I’m hoping to transfer to the US as soon as possible.”
Sandra nodded – she didn’t want to pry.
“I came back though and based myself in Dublin again for a year or so. What about you?”
Sandra filled her old work colleague in on what he needed to know and he ordered a coffee too.
“It’s still awful coffee,” she whispered and he smiled. God, those piercing blue eyes were intense.
“Always was. So, the Moritz sounds like a nice little job then?”
“It’s grand and by no means little. I mean, it’s not the closeness like I had with the AL girls but it’s good – it’s a good job, Alex.” She added some more sugar to try and mask the taste.
“Yeah, we used to have great craic, didn’t we? I think it’s important to have friends in a job so you can have a laugh.” He looked around him. “Do you remember you girls used to fight about who had to work the section of the aircraft with babies – I always thought that was hilarious. Not a maternal bone between you all!”
Sandra laughed despite herself. “Yeah, we did have a lot of banter all right. I do miss that. Well, actually, there is one girl at the Moritz now I have just started to get close to, and Alex,” she sipped her overly sweet yet still bitter coffee, “you’d love her! I remember how you always had a thing for the redheads!” She winked at him and he laughed.
“Ah, how well you know me, Sandra, I still do!”
Sandra’s face was suddenly serious. “Poor Cara, though – that’s the redhead – I think she’s been through a very hard time lately so I won’t introduce her to you any time soon.”
He stared at her. “Cara. Lovely name. Like the matchsticks.”
“Yeah, I forgot about that. She is like a matchstick too. Well, the old ones with the red tops, remember them? Non-safety, I think they were called?”
“That’s right – they were removed from the market for being too dangerous. So is Cara from Knocknoly dangerous too?” He winked at her now.
“Well, as far as I know she’s from Dublin. To be honest we are only getting to know one another even though she’s there a good few months. She’s rented Mr Peter’s cottage, a dainty little place, my dream home when I was growing up. To be honest I’d still love it.”
“And that’s in Knocknoly too?” Alex chewed on his fingernail.
“Yes, it’s just over the bridge and into the large fields – so pretty.”
“Here, how rude am I? Can I buy you a drink? For old time’s sake?” He dug his wallet out of his back pocket.
“No, I really shouldn’t. I have to get back. It’s been wonderful to see you though.” She drained her cup, not wanting to offend Jimmy, and called her goodbye out to him. He waved back.
“You take care.” Alex stood and they hugged before she headed back to the Four Seasons to run a bath for Jamie Keenan.
***
It was midnight before Jamie returned and he looked shattered.
“Get undressed,” she ordered him as she poured him a cold glass of sparkling water and added ice from the machine right outside the suite door. He did what was asked and padded naked into the bathroom. She added hot to the bath and he folded himself in. There was very little room for her.
She sat on the edge in her fluffy luxurious hotel robe. “So how was it?”
“Ah, the usual, same old questions and same old answers . . . could you get that muscle rub for my neck – it’s on the top of the toilet?”
She did and rubbed it in hard. The vapour making her eyes water.
“Ah, thanks, it’s so stiff this evening. I can’t sit in those interview chairs any more – it’s too painful.”
Sandra watched as he tried to turn his neck from side to side and he winced. “Quit then,” she told him.
“Easier said than done. I want to go out on a winning streak. I want to win all I can, and then I go.”
“For the money?” she asked as he filled his hands with water and splashed his face.
“Sandra, I have more money than I could ever spend. It’s hard to explain, I suppose. My dad beat it into me literally that winning is everything. I think that’s why I like cooking so much – because I can make it perfect. I can cook a winning meal every time. No one can stand in my way. I am in control in a kitchen.”
“Oh, I got you some books!” She pulled her dressing gown belt tight around her and stepped barefoot out to the suite where she grabbed the bags from the chaise longue. She held the books up and he oohed and ahhed and genuinely loved them.
They ordered salads and tea and watched The Talented Mr Ripley in bed. It was so nice to relax. She was herself again. She felt ten years younger. She didn’t want to leave her life in Knocknoly so much as change it. Sandra Loughnane Darragh was of Knocknoly and it was a part of her.
She snuggled down to sleep in Jamie’s massive arms and realised she had never really done this with Neil. Yes, they had slept together but she now realised that he usually passed out the second his head hit that pillow. He liked his few pints after work and she understood that. She was the same. He was a decent man.
***
Sandra spent a glorious week in the company of Jamie Keenan. True to his word he treated her like a princess. She loved watching him play every day on the tour and on the Sunday she was leaving he won the tournament. He held the trophy high above his head as the crowd cheered an
d he winked right up at her. Funny, she thought as she made her way through the bustling stands and out to the waiting Limo that was taking her back to Heathrow airport. That win had made Jamie truly happy. For like an hour. It was all about the build-up to that win. All the hard work and misery wiped away for those few short hours post-victory.
They had laughed in bed last night for hours. Like two school kids. She had told him that she was going home. He had told her he was going on to the tour in Oslo. She had told him he was amazing. He had told her she was beautiful and clever and incredible company. It was easy and adult and they had both had a great time. They promised to keep in touch. Jamie Keenan had injected Sandra with life again.
Chapter 25
The hotel was busy as it was Christmas week and it was fully booked. The Christmas programme started today. Sandra smiled at Alice on reception and headed for Jonathan’s office. He was on the phone as she went in.
He covered the mouthpiece. “Take a seat.”
She sat and looked around his office. It was as tidy and shiny as a new pin.
He hung up and grinned at her. “Welcome back.”
She noticed he was pale with big black circles under his eyes.
“I’m so sorry I’ve been so scatty lately. It’s all over now. I am back.”
He nodded. “It’s okay.”
“You look really tired. I feel awful. I can work around the clock now – just pencil me in.”
He stood. “There’s an urgent meeting now, Sandra. I called it late last night. I’m afraid there is a big problem.” He grabbed his keys off his tidy desk and stood up.
She got up slowly from her chair. “What is it?” she asked as she hauled her bag over her shoulder.
“I will tell you all at the same time if that’s okay?”
They walked in silence down the corridor.
Inside the conference room old Mrs Reilly was sitting beside Big Bob, and Tiff and Mike were standing close together, laughing. Cara and Dermot were pouring the coffee.
Dermot gave Sandra a big smile and a wink. “Welcome back,” he mouthed at her.
She made a face at him. He waved her away and grinned.
Then Jonathan arrived.
“Okay, thanks, everyone.” He sat as the noise level in the room suddenly dropped to an eerie silence. “Can you all please take a seat?”
They all did and the room was completely silent as they waited.
“It isn’t good news. I’m so sorry to have to say that the Moritz is going up for auction. There is no guarantee that it will remain a hotel so therefore no guarantee that anyone will keep their jobs. I’m very sorry to have to tell you all this.”
A collective gasp filled the room.
Jonathan nodded slowly. “As I said there is no guarantee that, if sold, it will be kept as a hotel. There is talk of interest in turning it into a stud farm, in which case it will be knocked down completely.”
“No!” Big Bob slammed his hand on the table and old Mrs Reilly put her blue-veined one on top of his and held it there. Coffee had spilled and Tiff covered the liquid with left-over wedding napkins.
“I spent four hours with the heads on a conference on a Skype call last night,” Jonathan continued. “They have no funds, and their accountants have advised them that the Moritz is the best place to sell for now, taking the current Irish economy into consideration. They are insistent. I am truly sorry, everybody.”
The staff all looked at each other. Sandra looked at Cara and they both shook their heads. Jonathan looked like a beaten man. No one spoke for minutes and then Dermot spoke slowly.
“Big J, can we not buy it?”
Jonathan nodded his head repeatedly. “I have thought about it. I approached the bank that offered me a loan on the Kingston in London and, while unbelievably in this climate they are still willing to help me out, it’s not nearly enough any more. This place will go for two million, Dermot. A few years ago it would have gone for five.”
“Can we not get investors involved?” Sandra asked.
“We could. I mean, it’s an auction and anyone can bid. We can go in and bid for the Moritz, but at the end of the day it will be sold to the highest bidder.”
Big Bob pushed back his chair and stood. “This hotel is my life, Mr Redmond.” He pushed his glasses up high onto the top of the bridge of his nose.
“I know, Bob, I really do understand.”
“It’s my life too, Jonathan,” old Mrs Reilly added as she too stood up. “We need to save it. I don’t even care so much if it’s sold as another hotel and I lose my job – but the thought of them knocking this old girl down! Over my dead body. I will lie down on the steps of that old mahogany door and they won’t move me.” She sniffed back the tears and stood tall, her chest heaving in and out.
“I understand how you all feel about this building,” Joanthan said, “I really do. Because I feel the same. I had my first ever job here, my first ever kiss here – my heart and soul is in this hotel, it always has been – but unfortunately I am not a millionaire.”
“When is the auction?” Dermot and Sandra asked at the same time.
“Two weeks from today in Leontia’s auction house in Dublin.”
Dermot nearly choked on his coffee. “So we only have two weeks to get this money together and it’s Christmas week in a booked-out hotel on a rota of extremely reduced staff?”
“Yes,” Jonathan nodded.
“Right so.” Dermot drained his cup then he stood up to join the other two. “So my question is: why are we wasting time talking about it? Let’s start doing something!”
“Like what?” Cara asked.
“Like raising money!” Dermot clapped his hands loudly.
“Dermot?” Jonathan said. “You’re talking about how we’re going to raise two million euro? It’s not easy.”
“It’s achievable. Like you said, five years ago this place was five million. That wasn’t achievable, we were out, but maybe this is? Let’s get our thinking caps on. I mean there has to be a way. I won’t give this up without a fight.”
Sandra stared at Dermot. He was pumped. The Breena yard was his life, she knew that. She looked around the table and suddenly realised that this was her life too. She was now happy it was her life. She wanted to keep her job here, she wanted to start over in Knocknoly, save money and get a place of her own. “Well, I am getting a cheque for one hundred thousand euro and you can have it!” she suddenly exploded.
They all stared at her.
“Did you win the lotto?” old Mrs Reilly asked, taking her seat again and pulling at Big Bob’s brown cardigan to make him sit too.
“No. Neil and I are getting divorced – and Neil can’t keep up the mortgage payments on the house. His brother is paying off the mortgage and I am getting a cheque to ‘compensate for my loss’. I will put it into the Moritz. Just give me a room here to live in for a while.” She sat down, slightly red-faced at her public outburst about her personal life.
Then Cara got up and stood behind her and put her hands on her shoulders. “I have a house I can sell in Dublin. Well, Esther, that’s my mother, she’s still living in it. It’s both of ours. But I want to get her down here. I know she will love this village as much as I do. She will have a better quality of life and we will be together. She will agree. It’s time we both moved on. It will only be worth about two hundred thousand though.”
Sandra looked up at her and smiled as Cara continued to rub her shoulders.
“I have my home. I will sell it. I’m more than happy to live here too,” Big Bob said. “It’s on a good few acres so we could do all right out of that. That should see us getting towards the one mill.”
Jonathan shook his head slowly. “Are you all serious?” His eyes began to fill with tears and he stood, turned his back to the room, sniffed and then sat back down. “Holy shit, you all are!”
“I have nothing, Jonathan, I’m afraid,” Tiffney spoke quietly “but the Moritz hotel has saved my life. I had nothing
in Romania many years ago, I escaped my own family and my country and now I have this family and, well . . . and now Mike. I will do anything I can do to help . . .”
Mike blushed and then stood tall, his shoulders pushed back and his head held high. “I have some savings, J, and you can have them all. It’s not much and I do still live at home but I was saving for a . . . I am saving for a ring . . . I am . . .” He stopped to swallow.
Jonathan held his hand up. “No, Mike, don’t say it again!”
“Let me finish, Jonathan, please. I am saving for an engagement ring for Tiff.” He held her hand tight as she smiled up at him. “I have a few thousand euros saved but it’s yours.”
Tiffney jumped up and hugged Mike as he kissed the top of her head.
Sandra burst out crying, her emotions exploding, and Dermot handed her a napkin. “Wow, listen, Mike, you don’t have to do this but thank you so much,” Jonathan said. “We will accept. Okay, maybe we can do this after all?” His eyes were bright and his face flushed. “So we still need to raise a cool mill. I’m going to see the bank manager in Dublin now, okay? I’ll be back later.” He literally ran from the conference room before returning and poking his head back around the door. “Seriously, I can’t tell you all how fantastic you are. Now kindly run the hotel in my absence, won’t ye?”
The room exploded with laughter and release of tension.
***
“Do you think we can do it?” Cara asked Sandra as they headed back to work.
“God, it’s exciting, isn’t it? Yeah, I don’t see why not. What about Mike? Wasn’t that an incredible thing he just did? I’m so happy they are a couple – they are so well suited.”
“Would we have to live here though? Surely that would be nonsense as we’d take up half the rooms?” Cara wondered if Esther would have fifty fits at what she had just done. She really didn’t think so. She knew Esther would love life down here. She knew Esther was pretending that she was fine without Cara but really all Esther wanted was to be with her daughter.
The Other Side of Wonderful Page 28