by Melissa Hill
The next morning, Elle badly needed coffee. It was the only thing that would truly ready her for the trials of the day. She’d had a terrible sleep, kept awake by the creaks of the building and the old rickety bed, not to mention thoughts of what she’d said to Rob and Penny. She kept seeing her sister’s crushed expression and Rob’s coldly amused one as she’d tumbled into a dream-ridden, restless sleep.
Coffee was one of Elle’s long-held grumbles about the hotel: there was no modern Italian coffee machine, just an old sputtering coffee urn on the end of the breakfast buffet table. What few guests there were, today sat by the windows overlooking the sea, which the wind was whipping into a fury. Despite being springtime in Mulberry Bay, it definitely wasn’t yet beach or swimming weather.
Elle despaired of the breakfast options, too. Good, hearty Irish fried fare of bacon, eggs and black pudding, fine in its own way, and locally sourced, but no vegetarian options, no dairy or gluten free, nothing at all for the health conscious.
Honestly, it was like perusing a menu from the seventies. An artefact. She slapped together a quick bacon sandwich and took it with her coffee outside, in spite of the threatening weather. She didn’t want to sit in there like a guest. There was no sign of Penny or her father. She had barely seen Ned since the funeral. He was holing away somewhere, listening to his precious music, no doubt, and hiding from his feelings.
But Penny was outside, pinning sheets to the washing line that stretched along the residential side of the building, close to the family’s quarters. Another sore point for Elle: Anna had insisted on line-drying laundry, where possible, to ‘give it that sun-kissed, fresh smell’. All well and good, thought Elle, when there was actually sun. Not to mention the extra labour.
The sheets were blinding in the pre-storm glare and Penny was struggling against the wind to hang them. Elle put her coffee down and went to help her.
‘Sleep OK?’ her sister asked.
‘Not too well, actually. You know yourself.’
‘Yes, I was up half the night too, worrying. Mostly about how I’d do the morning routine without Mum.’
‘What about Linda and Clive?’ Elle asked, referring to the long-time staff. ‘Didn’t they help?’
Penny looked at her strangely. ‘We had to let them go a couple of years back, Elle. There’s only really Molly left in the kitchen now, and only part-time. Dad does the gardens, when he remembers and Mum did the cleaning, manned the bar, made the lunches and afternoon-teas, welcomed people at reception . . . I actually don’t know how she did it, when I list it out like that. Of course, I helped with all the behind the scenes stuff . . . but I just don’t have the same way with people that she had.’
Elle was too shocked to contradict her and make her feel better. ‘But Mum never said, she never told me that things were that bad. So she was basically running this place single-handedly?’
Penny’s cheeks reddened. ‘Mum loved the hotel, Elle. She knew that you’d just tell her to give it up if it wasn’t making money. But this place was her whole world. It wasn’t really about money.’
‘Oh come on, everything’s about money, in the end,’ Elle retorted, drily and then added almost to herself. ‘It’s no wonder she had a heart attack, carrying that load.’
‘Well, I didn’t see you here offering a hand,’ Penny shot back, flinging down a sheet.
‘I didn’t know she was under that kind of pressure, did I?’
Suddenly they heard a sound from behind. ‘When you’re finished . . .’ Ned muttered. ‘Family business inside.’
It was the most they’d heard their father say since the funeral, and the sisters stared at each other for a second, both still flushed with anger before they hurriedly hung the rest of the sheets and followed him inside.
The three sat at one of the now-deserted dining-room tables.
Guests typically left the hotel after breakfast to scour the shops down town, walk the beach, or drive out to hike the sugarloaf. Although none of those activities seemed very attractive today, thought Elle, looking out again at the sky, which had darkened to an ominous deep grey.
The dining room seemed like the right place for this kind of conversation, which Elle guessed would be about what needed to happen to the hotel from here on. This room was superbly impressive, even in its decline. The cream walls contrasted with the dark wood furnishings and the carpet was red and gold, the ceilings high and mouldings still intact. A bar ran the length of the room, bottles glistening behind it, and champagne glasses that had toasted so many occasions hung gleaming like icicles. The circular and turreted room that Elle had always loved was off to the side: originally it had been built as a reading room from when the hotel was still a private residence, in the late 1800s. All in all, it was a beautiful room, even Elle could admit that.
She cleared her throat again and decided to just be out with it.
‘I think we all need to talk about the state of things around here,’ she said bluntly. There was a silence. To speak, to suggest any changes to the way things were done would be to ignore the memory of Anna, which was still so fresh that it seemed she was sitting at the table with them. But Elle decided she might as well be brave and get to the point. Someone had to, and her mum would have understood.
‘I’m not blind. I can see that things aren’t great with the business. And I also have a good idea why.’ Her gaze settled upon her father. ‘Dad, I’m sorry, but after you mentioned that Mum had been stressed, I wanted to find out what was going on.’
Penny looked confused, she shifted her attention from one family member at the table to another. ‘What is going on? Elle what are you talking about?’
Elle sighed and got up from the table. She left the room and walked into her mother’s old ‘office’, a tiny area behind reception. A moment later she returned with a stack of documents. She set them on the table in front of Penny as if displaying evidence in a courtroom.
‘This is what’s going on. See this file? All arrears notices. Dad, again, I’m sorry for airing dirty laundry, so to speak, but you two aren’t going to be able to solve this on your own.’ Elle felt guilty as she saw the colour rise in Ned’s face. It was clear this was a terribly embarrassing moment for him. ‘I’ve been looking at the finances. And I’m honestly surprised that the bank hasn’t tried to come in and claim the place.’
Penny was looking at each individual arrears notice, her face pale. ‘Why wouldn’t Mum have said anything about this? I mean . . .’
Elle sighed. ‘Penny, come on. You can’t honestly say that you didn’t know something was awry. You said yourself that most of the staff had to be let go.’
‘But I thought that was because we were quiet, and tourism is down in general in the area and—’
‘And when was the last time this place had steady business? When was the last time it was profitable?’
Penny was flustered. ‘Well, I’m sorry not to have all the answers for you at the drop of a hat, Elle, but I didn’t pry into Mum and Dad’s business because it isn’t my business.’
Elle exhaled. ‘Funny you should put it that way. Actually, this document,’ she placed an envelope on the table, ‘says that it’s all of our business now. Mum left her share of the place to us, Penny. This is her will. Obviously Dad automatically keeps half but . . .’ She pushed the envelope across the table. Penny seemed afraid to touch it.
Elle swallowed hard, hating how pale and withdrawn her dad looked. She opened her mouth to speak, but Penny interrupted her. She had the document open on the table in front of her.
‘Twenty-five per cent a piece to us.’
Elle already knew what the document said. ‘She made me executor a long time ago.’
Penny made no effort to disguise her dismay. ‘But why? You’re never here.’
Elle shrugged. ‘Because that’s what you do when you have a professional businesswoman in the family.’
Penny nodded, but she still seemed hurt by it. ‘So what does it mean? For the hote
l?’
Running her hands through her hair, Elle decided to call a spade a spade. ‘It means we have inherited not only the hotel, but quite a bit of debt too. I think . . .’ she ventured, trying to sound reasonable, ‘all things considered, that it might be time to think about selling. It’s falling down around our ears and based on what you’ve already said, Penny, Mum was about the only thing keeping the place together. Now that she’s gone, it’s . . . it’ll be impossible.’
‘What? But we can’t just give up on the hotel,’ retorted Penny. ‘This is our family home, the house we grew up in. It meant so much to Mum, to all of us. Can’t we just do a few quick repairs, as much as we can afford for now, and keep things going as they are for the moment?’
‘But think about the cost of maintaining an old property like this. Are you truly aware of the man-power you would need to keep things running smoothly day to day? I know that Mum was a powerhouse, but some aspects of the hotel leave a lot to be desired, Penny. Modern guests expect a lot.’
Ned sat, listening to the exchange but saying nothing. Elle had guessed that these decisions would be left up to them in the end. When had their father shown any real interest in anything except his Beatles music?
‘I can’t,’ said Penny, swallowing back tears. ‘I don’t want to let things go just like that. I don’t want anything to change, but maybe you’re right, it’s going to have to eventually, isn’t it? You’ll go back to London, and there’s no way Dad and I can keep this place going by ourselves. I can’t just give up my job either. Oh, maybe we should just sell before we turn it into a wreck altogether.’
She looked distraught and Elle felt like a complete heel now. She reached over to pat her sister’s hand. ‘It is the right decision, honey. It might not feel like it now, but it is.’
There was a moment of silence, then the sharp noise of Ned’s hand slapping against the hard dark wood of the table. It sent a shock through the room.
‘No,’ he said. ‘No, this can’t happen. It isn’t what your mother would want. It’s out of the question that we sell it. For all your talk, Elle, you don’t really know what goes into a place like this either. You’ve got no idea what it means to love it like a third child. That’s how your mother felt about this hotel. I won’t give it up. Not with the sacrifices we already made to keep it.’
Elle looked like she had been slapped, she was so shocked. She didn’t say anything and neither did Penny. It was clear that their father was readying himself to say more, but they were also too taken aback to speak. It was possibly the most Ned had said in years and certainly the first time they’d ever heard him assert himself in this way. And what did he mean by the sacrifices they’d already made to keep it? Was the hotel in more trouble than they thought? Had it ever made a good living for her parents? Elle never really thought about the ins and outs of it before, assuming that it must have been holding its own.
Ned looked at his youngest daughter. ‘Penny, your heart is in the right place but you, also, have no idea of the love and work your mother put into this place. It is the only legacy she has. And I will not see it sold it away like nothing.’ As always Penny looked wounded. Elle wished her sister didn’t take his ways to heart so much, take everything Ned said as some kind of personal rejection. But it had always been that way.
Elle and Penny let his words sink in and after a moment they looked at each other and nodded.
‘OK Dad, I’ll take a look at the finances again and see what we can do,’ Elle suggested.
Penny bit her lip, tears in her eyes. ‘We’ll do our best by Mum, I promise.’
‘That’s all I ask,’ said Ned. He left then, evidently tired out by so much conversation. Elle heard him hum a few bars from a song, (no doubt a Beatles number) which indicated exactly how he was feeling, but she couldn’t pinpoint which one it was. While playing ‘guess the song’ used to be fun growing up, it had got old over the years and unlike her mother, Elle had long given up trying.
‘Well,’ Penny said, turning to her sister. ‘Looks like you and I have become hoteliers.’
‘Seems that way, yes.’ Elle got up and stood at the windows, looking out at the grey, roiling sea below. She sighed.
Keeping the hotel, or trying to whip it into shape wasn’t something she’d envisioned during her short leave of absence for the funeral. She would have to ring her boss, tell the architects firm that she would be off the grid for a little while longer, at least until she and Penny could get some kind of basic plan of action going for the hotel in the medium term. They would arrange some basic repairs, come up with some kind of marketing plan to try and bring in some more business, examine the staffing situation . . .
This was going to be a challenge. She couldn’t even begin to fathom how utterly unrealistic it was.
Her father was right, Elle might know what kind of standards a place like this should run to, but she didn’t have the foggiest about how to actually make those things happen.
End of excerpt
Continue reading Mulberry Bay, out now.
US: Mulberry Bay
UK: The Hotel on Mulberry Bay
About the Author
International #1 and USA Today bestselling author Melissa Hill lives in Dublin and is one of Ireland's most popular female fiction authors.
Her page-turning contemporary stories are published worldwide and translated into 25 different languages. Her titles are regular chart-toppers in Ireland and internationally. SOMETHING FROM TIFFANY'S (aka A GIFT FROM TIFFANY'S) became one of Italy's 2011 Top Ten bestselling books overall and THE CHARM BRACELET was a USA Today bestseller.
One of her recent novels is currently in development with a major Hollywood studio.
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Also by Melissa Hill
Mulberry Bay (new)
Lakeview
The Heartbreak Cafe
All Because of You
Never Say Never
Wishful Thinking
The Guest List
The Wedding Invite
Christmas at the Heartbreak Café
Summer at The Heartbreak Cafe
Escape to Italy
Summer in Sorrento
Autumn in Verona
Winter in Venice
Spring in Sicily
New York
A Gift From Tiffany’s
A Gift To Remember
Before I Forget (Christmas in New York)
Others
Something You Should Know
Please Forgive Me
The Last to Know
Short Stories
Fairytale on Fifth Avenue
Box Sets
Lakeview – Books 1 - 4
Escape to Italy Box Set
For more info, visit her website at www.melissahill.ie
Twitter: @melissahillbks
Facebook: facebook.com/melissahillbooks