by Lynda Page
CHAPTER SEVEN
By the following Friday, much to Jackie’s relief, nothing more catastrophic had happened than a rotund camper getting his face wedged tight in the hole on a photo board depicting comic cowboys and it taking several staff and jars of vaseline to free him. All talk of the food poisoning incident had died down.
Pulling a letter confirming a future booking and the receipt for a deposit out of her typewriter, and separating the carbon papers from between its copies, Jackie complained to Al who was in the process of typing out envelopes for her, ‘I do love my job but there are some bits of it that are repetitive. You’d think there was a genius out there somewhere who could invent a machine to duplicate a letter or form so that it appeared to be an original and we didn’t have to type out each one individually. It would make our lives so much easier, and the time saved … I’d kiss his feet in undying gratitude!’
Al laughed. ‘I’d settle for an automatic filing machine. Mind you, I do like filing as then I can let my thoughts wander and dream about the future.’ He added hurriedly, in case Jackie should ask what that dream was, ‘Oh, while at the same time keeping my eye on the files, of course.’
She chuckled. ‘I do the same when I’m filing only I don’t need to dream about my future, I already know what that is.’ She told him confidently, ‘I’ll be happily married to my boyfriend Keith, looking after our children.’ Then she asked him the question Al had hoped she wouldn’t. ‘So what future are you dreaming of?’
He looked at her blankly for a moment before saying dismissively, ‘Oh, I’ve nothing particular in mind.’ A light on the switchboard lit up and a buzzing sound began. As Al responded to it, Jackie wondered if it was her imagination that he’d seemed glad of the diversion. She felt he knew exactly what future he had in mind for himself but for some reason didn’t want to share it with her. She wondered why?
Having put the caller through to the girls on reception, Al replaced the receiver and returned to sorting through the pile of filing. He had something to ask Jackie but had been stalling in case her answer wasn’t the one he wanted to hear. His assignment with Jolly’s had been for two weeks. Today that time was up and as Jackie hadn’t told him otherwise he assumed Jolly’s no longer needed him. He really enjoyed working here. Jackie was a very fair boss and also fun to work for. People were beginning to recognise him as part of the office staff and he was beginning to feel part of the Jolly family. As a temporary employee he knew he shouldn’t have allowed himself to settle in but he couldn’t help it: the place and its people had had that effect on him. He really didn’t like the thought of moving around from job to job, always feeling like an interloper, possibly working with people who weren’t as friendly or receptive as the staff were here.
He opened his mouth to ask Jackie if his contract had any chance of being renewed but was stopped by the telephone on her desk which began shrilling.
Jackie hoped that the caller wasn’t someone wanting her for something time-consuming. After she had finished the day’s typing she had other jobs to deal with before she went home, and didn’t want to have to stay late and leave Keith waiting for her twice in one week. Moments later she put the telephone down, a puzzled expression on her face.
Al couldn’t fail to notice and asked her, ‘Everything all right, Jackie?’
She shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Mr Rose wants to speak to me in his office.’ She wondered what it could possibly be about as not once in all the fortnight he’d been in charge had he enquired of her how she was managing to keep the general office running smoothly with just herself and a temp, or how the rest of the staff were faring either.
Skirting her desk, she went over to the boss’s office door, tapped on it, and when she heard his summons went inside, shutting the door behind her.
Approaching the desk, she said to Harold Rose politely, ‘You wanted to speak to me, Mr Rose?’
He looked up from his work. As usual he didn’t look directly at her but over her shoulder. There was a tremor in his voice when he said, ‘Ah, Miss Sims, I’ve just had a telephone call from Mrs Jolly.’
Before she could stop herself Jackie excitedly blurted, ‘To tell you Rhonnie’s much better and they’re coming home?’
He said stolidly, ‘Miss Sims, would you please let me finish? I have a lot of work to do and really must get on. Mrs Jolly didn’t call to say they were on their way home, just the opposite in fact. Mrs Buckland isn’t well enough to return yet and it isn’t envisaged she will be for the foreseeable future. I assured Mrs Jolly that all was well here and that there was no reason for her to concern herself.’
As he said that, Jackie immediately wondered how he could assure Drina of that when he had no idea himself what was going on in the camp beyond the accounts department. She would not even know he was occupying the boss’s office if she didn’t see him arrive in the morning, take him in his morning and afternoon beverages, and see him leave at night.
He was saying to her, ‘Mrs Jolly asked me to pass on her gratitude to you for all the hard work you’re doing to keep the general office running smoothly in her absence. She asked for that gratitude to be extended to the rest of the staff too. I’d appreciate it if you’d see to that, Miss Sims.’
Harold then returned his attention to his work, signalling to her that the interview was over.
In all the time Drina had been heading up Jolly’s, Jackie had never known her leave the business in another’s hands during the season, except for the few odd occasions when she’d had functions to attend – and only then when Rhonnie and Dan were in charge. If she was doing so Jackie knew that Rhonnie’s condition had to be very serious. She was greatly distressed to learn that her friend was still so badly affected. All Jackie could do was try to ensure there would be a business to return to, but that wasn’t going to be plain sailing with the likes of Harold Rose at the helm.
Thinking that Harold Rose had summoned Jackie into his office to inform her that the temp’s services were no longer required as the boss had recovered sufficiently to return back to work, Al was very pleased when Jackie returned and asked him if he would consider continuing with the assignment for the foreseeable future. He left her in no doubt how he felt about that, much to her relief. She liked Al, was very satisfied with his work, and didn’t like the thought of having to interview and teach someone else the ropes considering the workload she already bore on her young shoulders. If only Drina and Rhonnie would return … but no, Jackie thought. She was just being selfish. They would come back in their own good time, and till then Jackie and her more than capable assistant would do their best to keep Jolly’s running smoothly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Al was feeling very chuffed with himself. Jackie, up to her eyes in work, had entrusted him with the daily checking of the camp to make sure everything was as it should be. He meant to be very vigilant and justify her trust in him.
As he arrived outside in the courtyard he spotted a couple over by the photograph kiosk, looking at snaps the photographer had taken of them during their time here, deciding which to buy and take home as reminders of their holiday. For no particular reason a vision of his parents rose up. Despite their strict ideas of what was expected from him, and the way they’d refused to take account of his wishes, he did love them and miss them very much, dearly hoping that one day they could reconcile their differences.
Satisfied that everything seemed to be in order around the fountain area he went into the Paradise building, then on into the theatre. After speaking to the staff and finding they had no problems to report, he crossed to the row of shops, nursery and surgery to do the same there. After that he was heading down to the outdoor swimming pool when he stopped short. In the distance, heading down the path towards the indoor swimming pool, he saw three men. They didn’t look like holidaymakers to Al. They were very smartly dressed and one in particular seemed to be having a good look round as he walked. Al thought they might be inspectors making a check to ascertain that Jol
ly’s was keeping to the standards set up by the relevant government bodies. Officials used to visit his father’s engineering works at least once a year to check that safety standards were being maintained, so Al knew this happened. He wondered if he should tell Jackie about them, then realised she would already know of their inspection tour as they would have had to clear it with management beforehand. So he forgot about the men and went on his way.
He was approaching the sports field to speak to the on-duty Stripey there while a father and son three-legged race was in progress. The spectators were making a deafening din, cheering on their favourites. Sadness filled Al as he reflected that his own father would never have felt it fitting for a man in his position to participate in such an event. Al’s reflective mood was swept away when he saw Ginger come hurrying up the path towards him.
Not hiding the fact that she was pleased to see him, she said jocularly, ‘Skiving, are you, Al, or on official business?’
‘Official,’ he told her. ‘I’m taking Jackie’s place today, doing the daily walk around as she’s busy.’
‘Oh, well, you’re just the man I need then. I was on the way up to the office to report that some of the campers down on the beach aren’t happy. Donkey Sam hasn’t shown up and the kids are bawling their eyes out after their mams and dads promised them a donkey ride only for no donkeys to be seen anywhere. I have to say that in all the four years I’ve worked at the camp, I’ve never known Sam to skive off once. Makes me think there’s something not right.’ Ginger had tried a few times to afford Al the opportunity to ask her out but without any success. Never one to miss another opportunity, she continued, ‘Oh, while you’re here, Al, there’s a few of us going into Mablethorpe tonight after work, if you fancy meeting up with us?’
Al liked Ginger and was well aware how much she liked him. She might not be a beauty but there was something very infectious and endearing about her and he would very much have liked to accept her invitation. But he hadn’t the money to spare as all his savings were being put towards his plans for the future. ‘Thanks for asking but I’ve other plans for tonight,’ he said.
She tried to hide her disappointment by giving a nonchalant shrug. ‘Oh, well, I hope you have a good time. I’ll let you get on with finding out about Donkey Sam. I fear there’ll be a riot on the beach if he doesn’t show soon.’
Frowning in thought, Al watched her as she hurried off up the path towards reception. He wasn’t quite sure what to do. Should he go back to the office and pass on this information to Jackie for her to deal with the problem, or should he try and resolve it on her behalf? It was probably just a simple case of Sam being under the weather and not reporting the fact yet, which Al could deal with to save disturbing Jackie. He knew where the donkey man’s shed was. Part of it he lived in, and in the other part he kept his donkeys. Jackie had pointed it out during Al’s initial tour around the camp when he had first come to work there.
Arriving at the shed fifteen minutes later, Al could hear the donkeys braying inside the building. He went over to Sam’s side and knocked on the door, calling out, ‘Sam, it’s Al. You don’t know me but I work with Jackie in the office. You’re not down at the beach today so we assume you aren’t feeling well. Do you need the nurse fetched?’ He received no reply so called again, ‘Sam, can you hear me?’
When he once more received no response it occurred to Al that maybe Sam was unable to speak because he was unconscious. ‘I’m coming in,’ called Al.
He unlatched the door and went inside. To his surprise he found the room empty with no sign of Sam at all. In fact, his bed didn’t look as if it had been slept in, it was so neatly made. Al frowned. Jackie had told him that Sam was never seen without his donkeys, they all went everywhere together. The camp joke was that no woman would put up with coming eleventh in line behind ten donkeys and that was why Sam had never had a relationship, let alone been married. So if the donkeys were all in the shed, where was Sam?
Then Al realised that while he was here, Sam might be on his way to the office to report why he wasn’t down at the beach today or had maybe called in at the surgery for treatment, not taking his donkeys with him for once.
Al was about to return to the main camp and resume his tour of duty when the soft sound of crying reached his ears. He stood and listened. Someone was very upset by the sound of it, and whoever it was was in the donkeys’ part of the shed.
He went to the other door, opened it and poked his head around. Several donkeys were bunched together in one corner. Another was lying lifeless on its side a few feet away. A man he assumed to be Sam was lying beside the fallen donkey. He had his arms around its neck, his head resting on it, and was quietly sobbing. So this was the reason Sam hadn’t appeared on the beach today. One of his beloved donkeys had died.
Al had never had a pet as his parents wouldn’t entertain the idea of an animal in any way fouling their home, so he found it difficult to understand why people became so attached to them. He eyed the other donkeys tentatively. If it was possible to read a donkey’s expression he could swear blind they were all staring at him, warning him to leave their beloved owner to grieve in private for their dead friend. The next thing he knew they were all heading towards him. Panic reared up in him. He wasn’t going to wait around to find out what their intentions were. Al spun round in his tracks. In his haste to put some distance between himself and the donkeys, he not only forgot to shut the shed door behind him but instead of turning left to head back down the rutted path and join the tarmac one that would take him by the staff chalets and maintenance buildings, he turned right and the next thing he knew he was fighting his way through dense undergrowth and trees behind the donkey shed. Despite the snags to his clothes and scratches to his face from sharp branches that assailed him as he forced his way past, he had no intention of going back the way he’d come.
It seemed to Al that he’d been pushing his way through this jungle for miles, though it was actually only a few yards, when to his relief he suddenly stepped out into the far end of an overgrown yard. Across the cobbles stood a dilapidated house. There were holes in its slate roof, weeds sprouting out of spaces in the crumbling mortar between the bricks, guttering hanging down in places, broken glass in all the upstairs windows. The outbuildings were equally as decrepit, as was the large barn to the rear. From where he stood all the buildings looked to be in such a sad state of neglect that it seemed as if they could come crashing down like a house of cards with one good push. It was apparent no one had lived here for many years, except maybe the odd tramp. Jackie had briefly mentioned on the commencement of Al’s temporary assignment that originally the site the camp stood on used to be a farm. What he had stumbled across must be the old farmhouse.
He was about to cross over to the other side of the yard and see if he could find another way out when he stopped as an idea began to take form. As it took shape, excitement began to swirl within him. This place might just have the potential to provide him with the space and privacy he needed for his work … Dare he hope that at least part of the house was habitable?
He knew that what was on his mind amounted to trespass, but as long as he was extremely cautious when coming and going he shouldn’t be caught. Besides, only Sam came anywhere near this isolated place while leaving and returning to his abode with the donkeys on the other side of the thicket. Al had managed to get here by pushing his way through the undergrowth, but surely there must still be the original way in through a farm gate. Hopefully that was out of sight of Sam’s shed, relieving Al of the worry of Sam accidentally seeing him coming and going.
It was all very well his formulating these plans, but it would be a total waste of time if no part of the house was habitable. The fact that he was supposed to be carrying out the daily check of the camp temporarily forgotten, Al hurriedly picked his way across the uneven, thickly weeded cobbled yard and over to the farmhouse to look in through a filthy window.
Dust motes danced in the light shining into the
room beyond. To Al’s acute disappointment he saw that the ceiling had caved in and several beams, splintered wood and chunks of plaster were piled in the centre of the floor on top of what looked like a sofa. Above the debris, lying at a precarious angle, was an old iron bed-frame which had obviously fallen through the ceiling. As it had come crashing down, the remnants of the ticking mattress and bedding that had still been on it at the time, now rodent-shredded and moth-eaten, were tossed into a rumpled heap. Al looked up through the huge gaping hole and into the room above. He saw the ceiling in there had come down too, and could see straight through the attic and on via a large hole in the roof to the sky above. To his great disappointment this side of the house was completely uninhabitable.
Praying for better luck on the other side, he made his way past the front door in the middle of the house and over to the other window, again shielding his eyes to look through it. This time, to his delight, Al could see that the room beyond looked to be intact, its ceiling too. Ribbons of cobwebs hung down from the plaster. In the centre of the room stood an old pine table with chairs around it, a dresser at the back of the room, and an old-fashioned black-leaded range which dominated the wall to the left of him. Sitting on top of it were several battered, blackened pans and a kettle, all covered in a thick layer of dust like everything else he could see in the room. An old pot sink sat under the window Al was staring through. A huge brass tap protruded over it, turned green and mouldy with age. The wooden draining board to the side of it, judging from the lumpy shapes visible under layers of dust and cobwebs, still held crockery.
Al’s excitement mounted. With some hard work to clear it up, this room would suit his needs perfectly. Then another thought struck him. What in fact was stopping him from using this space not just as a work room but as living accommodation too? From what he had observed there was enough furniture lying around to meet his needs. The rent he saved he could put towards obtaining materials much sooner than he would otherwise have done and bring his plan for his future to fruition all the quicker. He would just need to pay for a couple of blankets, a pillow, a primus stove to cook on, and some candles or a paraffin lamp to see by since it was obvious this house had never been connected to mains electricity. Now he just needed to find a way in.