One Week in August

by Margaret Thornton

  The hotel was just outside the town centre. They took a lift to the floor where the dining room was situated. Val was glad of Thelma’s company as they stood in a queue to leave their coats.

  ‘You look lovely,’ Thelma told her. ‘Red is just your colour, isn’t it?’

  Val returned the compliment. Thelma, again, was wearing blue, a shade darker than her eyes, a simple-styled dress in shimmering satin. Val guessed that it had not come from C&A, but she felt that her own dress was quite equal to the occasion.

  Sam thought so too. ‘You look beautiful,’ he whispered when he met her in the crowded bar adjoining the dining room.

  ‘Thank you, and you look very handsome,’ she replied. He was wearing an evening suit, as were the majority of the men. She felt proud and honoured to be his partner.

  The evening passed in a whirl of exciting experiences such as Val had never known before. Their party consisted of the Walker family, herself and Thelma, and a few invited guests, including Thelma’s parents who were friends of Joshua and Beatrice. Val assumed that Priscilla, the quiet fair-haired girl, was the girl whom Mrs Walker had had in mind as a partner for Sam. She and the ginger-haired bespectacled young man who was with her seemed very well suited.

  Val was glad of Sam’s bolstering company throughout the meal. She had spoken briefly to his mother, who had actually said, ‘You look very nice, dear.’ Then Joshua and Beatrice were occupied with their other guests, leaving the young people alone.

  Val was confused and astounded by the number of courses that were served at the meal, and the amount of knives, forks and spoons. She knew, though, that the correct procedure was to start with the cutlery on the outside and work inwards.

  There was fruit juice to start followed by a clear soup, beef consommé; then a fish course, dainty morsels of whitebait in a creamy sauce. She was somewhat perplexed when they were served next with what looked like ice cream in little silver dishes. Sam, noticing her bewilderment, told her, in a quiet voice, that it was called a sorbet, a water ice that was eaten to clean the palate before the main course was served. It was delicious, a delicate lemon flavour which did, indeed, refresh the appetite for what was to follow.

  The main course was roast beef, rarer than Val would have liked, but very moist and tender, with Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes and a variety of vegetables. The dessert was Eve’s pudding, apples with a sponge topping, served with fresh cream. There was a choice of red or white wine to accompany the meal, then coffee and chocolate mints to finish off what had been a splendid feast.

  Then it was time for the speech-making. The Director of Ceremonies banged on the table with a gavel, then introduced a distinguished-looking man, whom he called the Worshipful Master. ‘He’s the head of this Masonic lodge,’ Sam explained. ‘My father was WM a few years ago.’

  The WM, as he was called, welcomed the guests and said he hoped they were enjoying the evening. He reminded them that this was the Ladies’ Evening, when all their long-suffering wives were acknowledged and thanked for their loyalty and support. A man with a pleasant baritone voice stood up and sang a song to honour the ladies.

  ‘Here’s to their health in a song,’ he warbled, as everyone raised their glasses.

  The Worshipful Master’s wife, a corpulent lady in emerald green satin, with diamonds sparkling at her throat and ears, gave a charming speech of thanks, before every lady was presented with a gift. It was a small china dish with a floral design, made by the Coalport factory. Val thought it was exquisite and knew she would always treasure it as a memento of the evening.

  Following the meal and the speeches they all moved into the ballroom, seating themselves at small tables at the sides of the room. Sam and Val, Jonathan and Thelma, and Priscilla and her friend, Cedric, sat together as they were the only young people in the party.

  Val and Sam had not danced together since their meeting in Blackpool, and it brought back happy memories for them. There was a variety of dances, to the accompaniment of a small band, including modern, old-time, and a progressive barn dance where one moved on to a variety of partners, young and not so young, short and tall, slender and extremely large.

  Val and Sam danced together several times, then, as a gesture of courtesy, she supposed, Jonathan asked her for a dance. She was glad it was a waltz, which she found the easiest to do. ‘Enjoying yourself, are you?’ he asked, smiling in what she would once have thought of as a supercilious manner, but she knew now that it was the way he behaved with everyone.

  ‘Yes, thank you, very much,’ she replied, and that was the end of their conversation.

  Priscilla and her partner seemed happy together and very compatible. Sam danced with her once, as it was only polite to do so, leaving Val alone with Cedric.

  ‘This is all very new to me,’ he told her confidentially. ‘I didn’t know what to say when Priscilla asked if I would come with her, but I’m glad I did.’

  ‘It’s new to me as well,’ she told him. ‘It’s the first time I’ve been to such a posh do!’

  He laughed ‘Same here! Shall we try this dance, if you don’t mind me falling over your feet?’

  They managed the quickstep quite well. Val decided he was a very pleasant young man, though rather bashful. She would be interested to know how his friendship with Priscilla proceeded.

  The evening came to an end at midnight. ‘Carriages at 12 o’clock’ was the quaint wording on the invitations, harking back to Victorian times. Their taxi was waiting, but as Val was the first to be dropped off there was time only for a hasty goodnight.

  Sam walked her to her door, kissing her briefly but tenderly as they stood there for a moment. ‘It’s been a wonderful evening,’ he said, ‘thanks to you, and I shall see you again tomorrow, at seven o’clock. Think about where you would like to go.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ she replied. ‘Tonight has been lovely. I’m so pleased you invited me. Goodnight, Sam. See you tomorrow …’

  She didn’t care at all where they went, so long as she and Sam were together. She was starting to feel that it might be forever.

  EIGHTEEN

  ‘I’ve been wondering,’ said Cissie, as she and Val walked home together one evening during the following week. ‘I’d like to invite Janice to come to the wedding. What do you think?’

  ‘Yes, that would be a great idea,’ said Val. ‘And Phil as well?’

  ‘Yes, if they can both manage to come.’

  A recent letter from Janice had told them that Phil had paid a visit to Blackpool and then stayed on to help in the hotel, as Janice had been having problems with the staffing.

  ‘I should imagine he will have gone back home now,’ said Val. ‘I don’t think there’ll be any visitors staying there now.’ It was the first week in November, and the Illuminations would have ended in Blackpool.

  ‘I’d better get a move on then,’ said Cissie. ‘It’s only a few weeks away. I’ll send an invitation to Janice and include both of them. It’ll be good to see them again, won’t it?’

  Janice was surprised but very pleased to receive the invitation to Cissie’s wedding in Halifax. It was on the last Saturday of November at 12 o’clock at the church that she and Walter attended, followed by a reception in the church hall.

  Her father insisted that she must go. ‘You’re ready for a break,’ he said, ‘after all the hard work you’ve done. And your mother would agree with me if she were her normal self.’

  It was unusual for Janice to have told her father of the invitation before telling her mother, at least it would have been unusual at one time. But Lilian was still living in a little world of her own.

  ‘And Phil’s invited as well,’ said Janice, ‘so perhaps I could combine the wedding with my visit to see him in Ilkley.’

  Alec agreed that this was a very good idea. Phil had returned home the previous week after helping out at the hotel for the rest of October. This had been a real godsend to Janice and her helpers. The Hotel Florabunda was now closed until the fo
llowing spring, but its future was very uncertain.

  ‘If I go over to Yorkshire to stay at Phil’s place, we could both travel from there to Halifax,’ said Janice. ‘I don’t know how far it is, but Phil will be able to sort things out. I’ll phone him tonight and ask him about it.’

  Phil was delighted to hear that Janice was coming to stay at his home for a few days, and pleased to hear about the wedding as well.

  ‘It’s only a short distance to Halifax,’ he said, ‘and I’m sure my dad will lend me the car.’ They decided that Janice should travel by train to Leeds on the Friday, where he would meet her and take her on to Ilkley. She would stay there until the following Monday.

  ‘Have you come to any decision about what you’re going to do?’ he asked. ‘I mean about a job, or whatever?’

  ‘No, not really,’ she answered. ‘It all depends on how well Mum recovers.’

  ‘Is she still the same?’

  ‘Yes, pretty much so. It will be up to Dad and me to decide about everything. We can’t worry her with problems about the hotel or about anything else. She seems to have forgotten about it.’

  ‘Give her my love,’ said Phil. ‘And try not to get too down-hearted about it all. It will all sort itself out, I’m sure …’

  Phil was a very sensible young man who took things in his stride, and he had a calming influence upon Janice. Since the hotel closed at the end of the season Alec had insisted that she must have a well-earned rest. She knew now, though, that it was time that she found herself a job of some sort until it was time for the hotel to open up again, probably next April. But did she still want to be actively involved in the running of the hotel? And would her mother be fit by then to return to her duties? Indeed, would Lilian ever be her normal self again? These were the crucial questions. She decided she must have a serious talk with her father that night. They waited until both Ian and Lilian had retired to bed.

  ‘We can’t see into the future,’ said Alec. ‘And perhaps it’s as well that we can’t. Who can tell how your mother will be in a month’s time, or by Easter? That’s when we usually open for the season.’ He smiled. ‘I’m saying “we”, but I know I have very little to do with it. The hotel was Lilian’s responsibility, and just lately it’s been yours. You’ve done a marvellous job, Jan, but I know it wouldn’t be right to expect you to go on doing it. It’s messed up your plans already. You should have been settled in at university by now.’

  ‘Don’t underestimate your own contribution, Dad,’ said Janice. ‘You help with all the odd jobs that need doing, and carry the luggage up and down. You’re there in the background, and I know Mum’s very glad of your help. But … do I want to carry on running the hotel … with help, I mean? That is … if Mum isn’t well enough to do it.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Quite honestly, Dad, I just don’t know.’

  ‘It’s not what we would have wanted you to do, your mum and me. She was determined that you should have the chances that we never had when we were young. Not that I would ever have thought of going to college. But your mum was clever, and if she’d been given the chance she might have done something different. But you know how it was. She had to leave school and work in the boarding house, like so many more girls at that time.’

  ‘And she did a fantastic job as well,’ said Janice. ‘I was talking to Phil about it, how she managed to run the hotel with no real training, except what she had learned from her mother. When I started doing the waitress job I got quite interested in the hotel work, you know, planning menus, and getting to know the visitors. To be honest, I was never all that sure that I wanted to go to uni, but I knew it was something that you both wanted me to do, especially Mum.’

  ‘You should have said so, Janice. We would never have made you do something you didn’t want to do. But you’re a clever lass, you’d have done well.’

  ‘That’s as maybe … But when Mum was taken ill I was ready to jump in with both feet and keep things going. I didn’t realize what a difficult job it is. If Phil hadn’t come along when he did I don’t know what would have happened.’

  ‘Yes, he’s a grand lad,’ said Alec. ‘Let’s get down to brass tacks … I’m trying to look ahead, and it’s well nigh impossible. We have to assume that we’re going to open again next year. We’ll start getting enquiries about bookings well in advance, especially from folks who’ve been here before.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true. Would you believe that some people have already booked in advance for the same time next year?’

  ‘And we don’t want to let them down. We can’t make a decision to close down just yet. I’m hoping it will never come to that, but the way your mother is at the moment …’ He stared dejectedly into space.

  ‘It’s early days yet, Dad.’ Janice was trying to take a positive view. ‘It’s only a couple of months since she had the operation. And it’s too late now for me to go to uni, so I shall have to get a job of some sort. A temporary one, so that I can start working again here next spring, with or without Mum. We’ve already got Freda to help us, and Nancy and Olive. What we could really do with is someone to take over the financial side of things – until Mum is well again, I mean. Maths and bookkeeping and all that have never been my forte.’

  ‘There’s plenty of time between now and Easter,’ said Alec. ‘And don’t worry about the money side of things, about there not being enough to keep going. The hotel’s been doing well recently, and the wage that I earn helps as well. We certainly won’t go bankrupt.’

  ‘But it’s time I started working,’ said Janice. ‘I shall start looking straight away.’

  She found a job a few days later as assistant in a newsagent’s shop on Dickson Road, a few minutes’ walk from her home. It was the shop from where they had their morning and evening papers delivered, and Janice saw the advert in the window when she went to pay the paper bill.

  ‘Would you consider me for the job?’ she asked Mrs Nelson, the co-owner of the shop. ‘I’m looking for work, and this would be perfect.’

  ‘And you’d be perfect for us an’ all,’ replied Mrs Nelson. ‘The advert’s only just gone in, but we need look no further. So you’re not going off to college then, Janice? I thought you might have been starting later, with your mum being poorly.’

  ‘No, I’ve had to give up on that idea … for now,’ she added. ‘I might help out in the hotel again next year. It depends on how Mum goes on.’

  ‘Yes, we were so sorry about it, Brian and me. Do give her our best wishes. And Brian will be delighted when I tell him that you’re coming to work for us. Just fancy that!’

  It was arranged that she should work part time, an early shift from 8 a.m. till 1 p.m. for three days, and a late shift from 2 p.m. till 6.30 p.m. for the other three, with Sundays free.

  ‘We don’t expect you to come at crack of dawn to see to the papers,’ Barbara Nelson told her. ‘Brian and I see to all that, but we get a lot of people calling in on their way to work, and in the evening when they’re going home.’

  It was a pleasant family run store where they sold sweets and tobacco, greeting cards and stationery and, in the summer, postcards and requisites for the holidaymakers. It was interesting work but not too arduous, giving Janice time to see to things at home. She cooked an evening meal for all of them each day when her dad came home from work. Lilian was well enough now to potter around in the kitchen and make a cup of tea or a sandwich. She seemed quite interested to hear about Janice’s new job and said she would be quite alright whilst her daughter was at the shop.

  Janice’s employers agreed that she should take a long weekend at the end of November to go to her friend’s wedding in Halifax.

  It was good to see Phil waiting for her when she arrived at Leeds station. He gave her a friendly hug, then carried her case to where the car was parked.

  ‘It’s not far to Ilkley,’ he said. ‘Sit back and enjoy the ride.’

  ‘I haven’t seen much of Yorkshire,’ she said, ‘only Leeds when I came for my interview,
but I’ve been very impressed by the scenery on the journey here.’

  It was only twenty miles or so to Ilkley, through Wharfedale, one of the picturesque dales on the fringes of the industrial towns. The moorland was bleak, brown with bracken and heather which had bloomed and faded. Sheep grazed between the strangely shaped outcrops of rock, a wild and lonely scene which had a beauty all its own.

  The town of Ilkley, though, was busy on the Friday afternoon with shoppers on the main street, near to the River Wharfe. Phil’s home, The Coach and Horses, was a mile outside the town, a long, low greystone building which opened on to the street. The car park and main entrance were at the back.

  Phil parked the car in their own private garage, then took Janice through the family entrance and up the stairs to their living quarters. Phil’s mother was awaiting them in the comfortable living room. She put her arms round Janice and kissed her cheek in such a friendly way that she felt at home at once.

  ‘It’s lovely to meet you at last,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’

  ‘And it’s good to meet you, too, Mrs Grundy,’ said Janice. ‘Thank you for inviting me to stay.’

  ‘It’s a pleasure, my dear … And how is your mother going on? We were so sorry to hear about her operation, but glad that Phil was able to help out.’

  ‘She’s about the same,’ replied Janice. ‘The operation seems to have changed her personality. She’s not at all like she was before, but I suppose it’s good that she’s not worrying about the business.’

  ‘Time is a great healer,’ said Mrs Grundy, ‘and she has a loving family to care for her. Now, Phil; you show Janice to her room, and I’ll make a pot of tea. Ralph’s down in the bar, but he’ll be up directly. We‘re not too busy just now. Two couples booked for a meal tonight, and there’ll be some coming on spec because it’s Friday, the start of the weekend. But we’ve no one staying at the moment.’

  Janice’s small room was at the front of the building overlooking the main road which led to Skipton. There was a view of the moorland which Phil told her was the famous Ilkley Moor. It was a pretty room with floral curtains and bedspread, a small wardrobe and a frilled dressing table. There was a washbasin and pink towels, as it was a guest room, with the bathroom and toilet along the passage.