Coffee, Tea, The Gypsy & Me...

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Coffee, Tea, The Gypsy & Me... Page 11

by Caroline James


  The front door buzzer sounded.

  Simultaneously their eyes locked. Hattie reached for a glass, poured a large Cointreau and pushed it towards Jo. They could hear loud guffaws and laughter approach from the dining room and Harry and Elvis led Ken, Bertie and the girls through to the bar.

  Jo downed the drink in one. She shoved the empty glass back across the bar and grimaced as the fiery liquid hit her stomach.

  “I’ll get the door, you see to Harry.” Hattie turned and disappeared.

  “Finest meal I’ve ever ‘ad!” Harry bellowed. “This way ladies and gents, get comfortable, the party’s just starting.”

  Tracey and Stacey flopped into low armchairs and Ken and Bertie settled on a sofa by the fire.

  “Ease up ‘Arry, I’m knackered! I’ve been up since dawn.” Tracey put her feet on the table whilst Stacey tucked into the tiffin.

  “Liqueurs anyone?” Jo asked.

  “Brandy all round, on me.” Bertie said. “Make them large ones to be sure.”

  Jo slid behind the bar and searched for six brandy goblets. Where was Hattie? Who’d come in?

  “Courvoisier?”

  “Perfect.” Bertie nodded.

  “The poor lamb’s tired.” Hattie said as she returned to the bar. She reached for the tray of brandies. “Mr Doherty’s had a long day. He’s gone straight to bed, says he’d like his breakfast at ten o’clock, if that’s alright with the kitchen?” Hattie raised an eyebrow and watched Jo’s face fall.

  “Who’s for a big one?” Hattie leaned over and brushed Bertie’s arm with her chest as she placed the glasses on the table.

  “Be Jesus Harriet. I’ll be having a heart attack if you do that again.”

  Bertie’s face was flushed. His eyes never left her chest as he knocked back his brandy.

  “You can fill this up again and steady me nerves.” Bertie thumped the glass back on the table and reached up to slap Hattie’s bottom but she wriggled past and he slapped thin air, much to everyone’s amusement.

  “Whatever it takes to increase the bar takings…” Hattie whispered. Jo shook her head.

  “I’ll make a start on the bills.”

  “Fine with me unless you want to take a cocoa up to Room Two?” Hattie winked.

  “Oh bugger off Hattie. I’ve got work to do and this lot will see the sun up.”

  Jo turned and flopped down in reception. What was wrong with her? Why was she feeling miffed that she hadn’t seen John Doherty? She knew she looked good in her new dress, but no doubt he’d turn up tomorrow when she’d been mucking the fire out or sweaty from the still room. She flung the ledger open and reached for receipts, then buried herself in the book work.

  For the next hour Hattie stayed busy in the bar, the Hunts were drinking it dry. With the staff long gone, Jo locked the safe and looked out of reception. She saw Hattie shake Bertie’s arm, he’d fallen into a deep sleep. Ken’s eyes drooped and the girls, curled up in their chairs, snored loudly.

  “One each Gentlemen?” Hattie said.

  Jo watched Harry pick up Tracey, Elvis scoop up Stacey and Ken lift Bertie under the shoulder and wrench him to his feet. Hattie held the fire door and watched the wobbly procession climb the stairs and disappear.

  “I’ll be off too, are you alright to lock up?” Hattie called to Jo as Pippa appeared in pursuit of her mistress.

  “Yes go ahead. I’ll not be long.” Jo said. She heard Hattie turn the lights off as she went through to the guest room in Jo’s house.

  Jo kicked off her shoes and stroked Pippa.

  “You want to go out?” She watched Pippa scamper through the bar and disappear in the conservatory. Suddenly, the dog started to bark. Jo stopped in her tracks. Someone was in there! She heard Pippa whine piteously and Jo’s heart lurched. She felt sick with fear as she groped for the light switch. Light flooded the conservatory and Pippa skulked towards her with her head down and tail between her legs. The dog was clearly disturbed and shook as she leaned heavily against Jo’s knees. Jo felt perspiration, cold and clammy trickle down her neck. The air in the conservatory was icy. She flicked another switch and light poured over the garden, illuminating the still pond and silent trees. What had scared the dog? Who or what, was in this room?

  “Bit late for a moonlight walk?”

  Jo screamed! She spun round with her arms raised to lash out...

  John Doherty stood in the doorway.

  “Steady on.” He raised his hands in surrender.

  “Oh Christ, I’m sorry.” Jo faltered. “I thought there was someone there. I was locking up and the dog barked.” She took a deep breath and ran the back of her hand over her forehead.

  “You look like you’ve had a shock.” John stared at her pale face, her hands were shaking. “You need a drink.”

  He led her through to the bar.

  Jo succumbed and as she sat down Pippa sensing security, settled by the fading fire and went to sleep.

  John lifted the bar hatch and searched through the bottles. He poured a large Cointreau into a short glass, then held another under the vodka optic and shot two measures into it. He flipped the top off a tonic water and put the drinks beside Jo.

  “Drink up.” He splashed tonic into the vodka.

  “Sorry.” Jo began.

  “Old places are spooky at this time of night.” John sat down and sipped his drink.

  “Did you need something?” Jo wondered why he was up.

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “Why Cointreau?” Jo looked at her drink. How did he know she drank it?

  “All girls love it. It’s strong – hits the spot.”

  He took another swig and sat back. Jo sipped the Cointreau. Christ, he was handsome! She felt her heart pound. He wore a white shirt with the collar open and a shadow of dark hair peeped out. His neatly groomed hands cradled his drink and rested on expensively cut trousers. Jo tore her eyes away.

  “Did you have a good journey?” She mumbled. She felt foolish. John smiled and nodded. His blue eyes bore into her.

  “Is your room comfortable?”

  “Lovely, thanks.”

  She stared at his fingers curled round the glass and imagined them caressing her skin.

  “I was just locking up when you startled me…”

  She didn’t finish her sentence.

  John stood and put his glass on the table. He reached for her hand and drew her to her feet, their bodies inches apart. She could smell his aftershave and feel his warmth. His hand was strong and as he reached round her naked back he pulled her into an embrace and kissed her.

  Jo melted, any resistance drained as the kiss became harder and more urgent.

  She ran her hand through his thick curly hair and caressed his powerful body through the crisp cotton shirt.

  John broke away. He kept a tight hold of her hand and led her through the hallway to the Red Room. It was dark, the shutters closed and as he pulled her into the room she heard the key turn in the lock. Instinctively, he led her to the largest Chesterfield and they flung themselves on it. Kissing her neck, he cupped her face whilst his other hand confidently lifted her dress over her hips and slid her lacy knickers down her legs. He tossed them to one side. With both hands he eased her out of the top of her dress. Jo prayed he wouldn’t get whiplash from the complicated fastenings on her bra, but soon forgot all concerns as he scooped her breasts and kissed them. She wanted to rip his beautiful shirt off, but restrained herself as she thought about the expensive tailoring.

  He pulled away and she heard a rustle of clothes. When he returned he was naked, his warm body felt wonderful as he lay beside her. Jo closed her eyes as John’s hand slid between her legs, she thought she would die as he gently stroked, discovering her secret places. She heard him sigh with pleasure as he slid into her and they moved together as one. Jo felt exhilarated as they pounded against each other and as they climaxed he cried out. It seemed to last forever. Every inch of her body felt alive and tingled as she melted into his ar
ms.

  “That was beautiful.” John whispered. “I’ve longed to do that, ever since I kissed your floury face.” He cradled her body and nuzzled her neck. Jo felt like the cat that got the cream. They lay in each others arms and drifted into a deep and satisfied sleep.

  * * *

  Jo’s back ached. She opened her eyes, suddenly aware that a faint light penetrated through the shutters. What time was it?!

  John murmured and held her tightly. Jo began to panic. What the bloody hell was she doing? Anyone could find them!

  She pushed him away and grabbed her clothes, then began to dress. Her stockings were laddered and her knickers lay abandoned on the rug by the fire.

  “John. Wake up!” She shook him. John opened one eye and smiled. He reached out to caress her leg.

  “Stop it. I’ve got to get dressed.” Jo protested as he pulled her back into his arms and began to kiss her.

  “I’m serious John. The staff will be here soon.”

  “Let’s go and get in my four-poster.” He held on but Jo wriggled away.

  “Please, get dressed.” She urged.

  Reluctantly John stood and gathered his clothes. He reached for her. Jo longed to embrace him but pushed his naked body away and peered tentatively round the door. She crept into the hall and signalled for him to hurry.

  At the foot of the stairs he locked her in a clinch and caressed her naked back. It was delicious.

  “See you later.” He whispered as she pulled away.

  Jo stopped.

  “Why are you here?” She asked.

  “For the Fair of course!” He winked and mesmerised, Jo watched his naked bottom bound up the stairs…

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Two empty glasses stood beside a tonic bottle on the table in the bar. Hattie picked one up and sniffed. The dregs were sticky, but there was no mistaking the smell of Cointreau. She looked around. The lights were on in the conservatory and the fire door wedged back.

  Hattie opened the door to reception and tripped over a pair of patent court shoes. She smiled and placed the shoes neatly under the desk.

  Michael clattered about in the kitchen and the delicious smell of bacon reminded Hattie that she was hungry. She decided to grab a bacon buttie before starting her shift. She looked at the diary and wondered if Room Two was down for an early morning call?

  * * *

  Jo stood under the shower and let the hot water pummel against her skin. She raised her face to the jet and alternated the pounding stream with hot then icy spray.

  Her thoughts were frantic but the shower helped. She reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself, then walked into her dressing room and picked up the dress she’d discarded moments ago.

  Thank God Hattie was opening up today! It would give Jo time to clear her head and convince herself that the Red Room Romp had never happened. What the hell was she playing at? Shagging the guests! It was unthinkable. Jo shook the crumpled dress, reached for a padded hanger and placed it in the wardrobe. She must compose herself - she had a hotel to run! Perhaps he wouldn’t remember if she didn’t refer to it.

  Furious with herself for being so stupid, she pulled on ski-pants, leather boots and a t-shirt and went to find Thomas.

  * * *

  “That’s the last breakfast Michael.” Hattie thrust the order for porridge and a full house on the stainless steel kitchen table. A very hung-over Bertie Carrington sat in the panel room, tucking into bread rolls and lashings of tea.

  “Are you sure?” Michael said. “I’m still one short on the room list.”

  “That’ll be Room Two. I don’t think we’ll be seeing him for a bit.”

  Hattie arranged toast in a rack and handed it to Penny. A bell rang. Hattie told Penny to finish serving breakfast and went though to reception, where a florist in a smart uniform, placed an arrangement of flowers on the desk.

  “Delivery for the Boss.”

  “Blimey.” Hattie stared at huge bouquet of white lilies and gerberas and reached for the card. It contained a sachet of crystals but no note.

  “I’ve just seen her pushing a pram round the village.” The florist said. “Make sure you keep them cool ‘till she sees them.”

  “Aye alright.” Hattie snapped back, she knew what to do with flowers!

  What was Jo doing out so early? Walking off a hangover or guilt? Hattie took the flowers through to the still room and looked around for a large vase. She filled it with water and thrust the flowers in, then told Penny to take them to the cold room. Ann hurried past with a basket of washing. It overflowed with small colourful socks and bibs.

  “I’m going to hang this lot out and let the sun at it.” Ann said.

  “Where’s Thomas?” Hattie feigned ignorance.

  “Out with his Mam.” Ann replied. “She looked a bit tired, said she was going to get some fresh air to wake herself up. You must’ve had a late night.”

  “Some of us did.” Hattie retorted and left Ann to her laundry.

  Laughter came from the panel room where Harry Hunt was finishing his breakfast. He wiped bread over the bacon fat on his plate and licked his fingers with pleasure.

  Tracey and Stacey sat either side of Elvis. He wore dark glasses and quietly sipped strong, sweet tea. The girls were dressed in velour track suits, Tracey’s bright red and Stacey’s a deep emerald green.

  “You look light a set of traffic lights.” Ken bellowed as he stuck one of Mr Pigmy’s finest Westmarland sausages into his mouth. “Elvis is the colour of piss.”

  “Could you speak a little lower be Jeysus?” Bertie whispered. He rubbed his forehead.

  “Hangover Bertie?” Hattie crept up behind him and slapped his back. Bertie’s eyes popped as he thrust forward.

  “Jeysus Harriet, have some sympathy for a man.” Bertie groaned, much to everyone’s amusement.

  “Hair of the dog and you’ll be back on form.”

  Hattie bustled about removing plates. “More toast anyone?”

  “Only if you’ll sit on me knee and feed it to me.” Bertie looked longingly at Hattie and licked his lips as he watched her move around the tables. Her breasts bounced in a white lace blouse that strained to contain them.

  “I’d lose you down me cleavage and you’d never be seen again. We don’t like to lose guests.” Hattie smiled sweetly. “Well not before they’ve settled up.”

  Hattie left them to finish their meal and went through to reception. They’d all be heading to Butterly for the Fair after breakfast, with any luck she could get up to date with office work. The phone rang.

  “Good Morning, Kirkton House, Harriet speaking how may I help you?”

  * * *

  Jo dragged the buggy over the gravel as Pippa ran ahead. She opened the side door of the house and headed to the kitchen. Surely she was wrong? The figure she’d just seen in a black tracksuit, jogging down the main road was a dead ringer for John. Jo prayed that he hadn’t seen her. She ran her fingers through her hair, she felt like Worzle Gummidge. John had hardly broken into a sweat and Jo was amazed at his energy. She felt like she’d been run over by a bus.

  Ann greeted them.

  “Enjoy your walk? Come here my lovely little ‘un.” She reached down and lifted Thomas into her arms.

  Jo battled with the empty buggy. It refused to be folded.

  “Yes thank you.” Jo snapped as she thrust the buggy up and down. It wouldn’t collapse. In frustration, she kicked it and threw it on the gravel. “Bloody thing, why do they have to make them so complicated?” Jo slammed the door.

  Ann pulled a sympathetic face and made herself busy. Jo had a grump on and they’d best be out of her way.

  “Would you like a coffee Mrs E?”

  “No thanks. Sorry, I’ve got a headache.” Jo apologised. She kissed Thomas and ruffled his hair.

  “Would you tell Hattie I’m going to get my hair cut, I’ll be back in a bit.”

  Jo grabbed her handbag and keys from the hook behind the kitchen door. “See yo
u later.”

  Ann and Thomas waved goodbye and watched the car reverse at speed as Jo headed off to Marland.

  * * *

  “I know I haven’t got an appointment and I know you’re very busy, but it’s only a trim, can you ask him?”

  Jo pleaded with the Ice Maiden on reception at The House of Beauty. She looked at Jo with contempt. Jo could see that the appointment book was full but tried her hardest to get a slot with Paulie.

  “He’s very busy, people book months ahead. You’ll have to book for another time.” The Ice Maiden dismissed Jo and turned away.

  Jo felt like an idiot but was desperate to get her hair done.

  She looked up at the gallery - Paulie was engrossed. In his multi coloured shirt, he strutted like a peacock as he engaged in gossip with an elderly lady. He plucked pins from the metal rollers shrouding her head and shelled them like peas onto a trolley. Jo coughed to try and attract his attention but realised his music was playing, he couldn’t hear her. In desperation she grabbed a pen from the desk and hurled it towards the gallery. It skimmed the head of his client and landed on his trolley. Paulie spun round.

  “Darling Heart!” He yelled down. “Your hair’s frightful! Get your arse up these stairs immediately.”

  The Ice Maiden looked murderous. Jo grinned smugly and ran up the stairs.

  “Fuck Me Sideways Sweetie! What have you been doing?” Paulie called out. “You look like you’ve been tumbling in the hay.”

  A deep blush burned across Jo’s face and Paulie laughed.

  “Angela will finish you off Mrs Hendry. I’ve an emergency to attend to.” He shoved Jo into an empty chair.

  “Who is he?” He whispered in her ear. “Is he hot?”

  “I haven’t had time to come back in and see you.” Jo spluttered.

  “Obviously Darling.” Paulie tugged at her hair. “Give me the goss’ later, let’s get this mess sorted first. Gown her up!”

  He clapped his hands and an assistant ran forward to engulf Jo in a gown, she tucked a towel round her neck and whisked her off to the back wash.

 

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