Single Mother

by Samantha Hayes

  ‘Go on, love, it’s fine.’

  ‘But it’s not the first time she’s spoken to me, Mum. She once said that this place has secrets,’ Kate whispers, clearing her throat. ‘Bad, bad secrets.’

  After Kate goes back inside to get on with her homework, Mel stays sitting on the wall, surveying the building site, but mainly thinking about what her daughter just told her.

  Bad secrets… She shudders, wondering if they’re linked to her inheriting Moreton Inn. Nothing about the situation is normal, yet she would hate to think her presence here was tied to anything bad, let alone secretive.

  Trying to put it from her mind, she checks the building progress on the extension. The footings are dug out now, all the new drains laid and connected, and the bulk of the soil and rubble removed for where the new terrace will go. Countless skips of rubbish, both from inside the hotel and out, have been filled and collected, with empty ones arriving every day. Tom has been managing all the building works according to the council’s plans and, once the concrete is poured ready for the first bricks to be laid, he told her he’ll be getting the planning officer out to sign off on the commenced works. Mel finishes her tea, knowing she couldn’t have done any of this without him.

  ‘Catching the last rays?’

  She swings round, caught off guard. She thought everyone had gone home.

  ‘Oh… hi.’ She smiles, chucking the dregs of her tea onto the mud behind her. She sits down on the wall again. ‘I was just admiring your handiwork.’

  Tom comes up and sits down beside her, leaning forward with his forearms on his grimy jeans. ‘Excuse the state of me,’ he says. ‘Hard day at the office.’

  ‘It shows,’ Mel says, staring straight ahead, tapping a fingernail on her empty mug.

  ‘Go on then,’ Tom says, giving her a friendly nudge.

  Mel turns briefly, her eyebrows raised, head tilted.

  ‘What’s up? I might not know you very well yet, but I can see something’s troubling you.’

  A couple of wood pigeons coo-coo in the trees at the end of the garden, making Mel want to cry for some reason. Sounds of her childhood, of days lying on her back in children’s home gardens, making wishes with dandelion heads.

  ‘It’s so peaceful here,’ she says, avoiding answering. ‘So perfect.’ She laughs then, closing her eyes briefly as the warmth of the sun catches her cheeks. ‘But… but I just know…’ she adds, staring at the footings again. Then she checks herself, shakes her head as she remembers Michael’s words. You’re hardwired to self-sabotage…

  ‘What do you know, Miss Douglas?’ Tom says, twisting round to face her.

  Mel senses his eyes on her. ‘I guess it’s hard to believe I’m actually here and this is all mine. I just want the best for Kate and…’ She stares at the sky, willing herself not to spew everything out to Tom. She so easily could.

  ‘And you’re worried you’re going to wake up and it was all a dream?’

  Mel laughs. ‘Something like that,’ she says, flashing him a look. ‘Kate told me something concerning just now,’ she adds.

  ‘I saw you two deep in conversation as I was loading up my van.’

  ‘Apparently, she spoke to Miss Sarah this morning. As in Miss Sarah actually spoke. I don’t think it was much more than a few words, but…’ Mel pauses, taking a couple of breaths. She doesn’t want to betray her daughter, but then Tom may be able to throw some light on it. ‘Kate said Miss Sarah told her that the hotel has… that it has bad secrets.’ She looks at him, hoping to read something reassuring in his expression, but his face remains blank.

  ‘I see,’ he says. ‘And that’s all she said?’ He clears his throat nervously.

  ‘She said something about her being just like Kate once – though I find it hard to believe she was ever remotely like Kate.’ Mel laughs. ‘But what a sinister thing to say to a kid, right? I tried to talk to Miss Sarah afterwards but she didn’t say a word, of course. I’m rattled having her here. It’s weird, as—’

  ‘What you need,’ Tom says suddenly, clapping his hands on his thighs, ‘is dinner cooking for you. You’ve done nothing but work since you arrived. I prescribe a Tom surf ’n’ turf special with a couple of bottles of wine and a bloody good laugh.’

  Mel pauses, not expecting that. She was hoping to hear his opinion about what Miss Sarah said.

  ‘Oh… I… Well…’

  ‘Tomorrow is Friday. After work, I’ll go home, shower, and then return early evening with the best prawns you’ve ever had and a couple of fillet steaks. As for the wine, I’ve been waiting for a special occasion to open something I’ve had stashed away. You won’t need to do a thing, Miss Douglas. And I won’t take no for an answer.’

  Twenty-Seven

  It had been necessity rather than vanity. That’s what Mel told herself, anyway, as she arrived back at the hotel from Lyme Regis, the next town along the coast. A scout around the shops was both a novelty and a much-needed break, as the last couple of weeks had been spent doing a lot of heavy lifting, deep-cleaning, rearranging, placing large orders for supplies, not to mention overseeing the extension build and making sure Nikki and Rose were on track with plans for opening the new restaurant.

  She was both buzzing and drained.

  And terrified that Tom had asked her on what sounded like a date.

  First thing that morning, the new bedroom curtains had arrived and Mel had wanted to get them up in at least two of the guest rooms so they were completely finished. Before she’d left, she’d stood back and admired her handiwork, snapping photos to send to Michael.

  He’d texted back immediately:

  I approve. Book me in!

  And he was right, Mel had thought. The two guest rooms were unrecognisable and it turned out that, with the outdated furniture painted a fashionable French grey, the sturdy pieces actually looked attractive. The beds, while comfortable, had had a good airing and were made up with crisp new white linen, each with plenty of plump pillows and a soft cream throw at the end. The en suite bathrooms, though small, had been scrubbed and bleached to within an inch of their lives, and the limescale dissolved to reveal gleaming taps and tiles. Plush white towels and scented toiletries completed the simple but clean look. Mel couldn’t wait to get started on the other bedrooms but was resigned to having to break the lock on room seven. She’d not been able to find the key anywhere and it was the only room the master key didn’t fit.

  Satisfied, Mel had left for the shops at lunchtime, determined not to have to wear one of her old T-shirts for tonight’s dinner with Tom.

  ‘Don’t see it as a date,’ she’d told herself a hundred times on the way there, and while looking in the changing room mirror as she’d tried on at least ten different outfits. Finally settling on a pretty summer dress – nothing like she’d owned in a long time – Mel impulsively bought a pair of sandals and a silver necklace to go with it.

  ‘Not, not, not a date. Remember your vow,’ she muttered to herself as she wandered around, choosing a few new items for Kate too. It hardly seemed real that there was so much money in her bank account now, yet her instinct was still to head for the budget shops and scout about for bargains. For a while she’d had an internal battle with herself about spending fifty pounds on a dress, and twice that on things for Kate, but when the changing room assistant had gasped, told her how lovely she looked, Mel had got out her card without hesitation.

  ‘We deserve it,’ she tells herself, beeping her car locked with one hand, the other loaded up with shopping bags.

  ‘Someone’s treated themselves,’ Rose comments as Mel passes her outside the kitchen. ‘Lucky you, being able to afford it,’ she adds, peering into the bags. She sighs. ‘I think I’ve perfected them tartlets,’ she goes on. ‘There’s one left for you to taste and approve, but the lads are enjoying the others for lunch. Especially Nige.’

  Mel glances out of the window at the group of builders, including Tom and Nige. There are five of them in total today, each with a mug
of tea and a delicate tart to hand.

  ‘Someone poke me,’ Mel says, laughing, watching as Tom puts down his mug and pulls off his T-shirt to reveal a tanned and muscular body. She feels her cheeks flush. ‘I’m splashing out on new clothes and feeding a team of builders goat’s cheese and cranberry tartlets for lunch. Life has certainly taken an unusual turn.’

  She’s about to head off when Rose sharply jabs her upper arm. Mel stops, rubbing the spot. It hurts, but Rose’s sour expression prevents her from saying anything. Old instincts kicking in.

  ‘You said poke you,’ Rose says, her face blank and her arms folded over her large chest. ‘By the way, Nikki wanted to see you. She’s in the bar, stocking up with the new drinks.’ Rose taps the side of her nose with a chubby finger, the stern expression suddenly gone.

  ‘Oh… OK, thanks,’ Mel replies, bemused, but unable to help another quick glance outside as she pushes the restaurant door open. ‘Hey, Nikki,’ Mel says as she goes in, admiring how much progress the young girl has made. ‘This actually looks like a bar people might want to drink in.’

  ‘I’m going to have to watch some YouTube videos to learn what to do with all this stuff,’ Nikki says, holding a bottle of orange liquid out in front of her. ‘Never heard of it,’ she says, shrugging and putting it on the mirrored display behind the bar along with a row of other brand-new spirits.

  ‘I think you’ll find it goes quite nicely with prosecco and soda,’ Mel says. ‘With ice and a slice of orange.’ She only knows this because it’s what Michael used to make her on a Saturday night when she and Kate went back to his place after a day working at the shop. In summer, it was a tradition. They’d sit on the balcony chatting, while Kate binged on his Netflix account, with the smell of something gently bubbling in the slow cooker eventually driving them inside to eat.

  ‘Oh. Right,’ Nikki says with a puzzled expression. ‘Anyway, great news. We have…’ She pauses, drumming her hands excitedly on the bar. ‘…a guest! A whole entire paying guest. Can you believe it?’

  ‘What?’ Mel says, not expecting that at all. She remembers what Tom had said – someone asking about a room. She glances nervously at the door, half expecting Billy to walk in wearing one of the new bathrobes, a smug look on his face – the one that told her to brace herself, to prepare for the worst.

  ‘I should be on commission,’ Nikki adds. ‘Don’t tell anyone, but I hiked the price a tiny bit,’ she adds in a whisper, putting her thumb and forefinger an inch or so apart in front of her squinted eyes, making them appear even more cat-like. ‘He looked as though he could afford it in his swanky suit and posh accent. He sounded a bit… up himself though, can’t lie.’

  ‘Nikki—’

  ‘It was only by twenty quid. Just to test the water, you know. Didn’t want you to sell yourself short.’

  Mel shakes her head, admiring Nikki’s gusto. ‘But… I mean, we’re not actually open for business yet. We don’t even have…’ She trails off as she sees Nikki’s expression change. ‘Actually, that’s brilliant news, Nikki. Well done you. We should toast that, for sure! Which room is he in?’

  ‘I put him in number five,’ Nikki said. ‘He looked well pleased when he saw it.’

  ‘How long is he here for? And what about dinner, breakfast? Oh, God…’ Suddenly, everything seems very real. She’d not expected this at all. And what about Miss Sarah? She’s sure to put off any guests and she doesn’t want her mentioned in any TripAdvisor reviews.

  ‘Don’t panic. Rose had a food order arrive today. He’s booked in for dinner, and she’s going to test out her new menu on him. And breakfast is all taken care of. I’ll be here at seven. And we’ve got plenty of drinks, at least.’ She sweeps a hand around the newly stocked bar.

  ‘Wow, okaay,’ Mel says, one hand gripping the shopping bags tightly, the other touching her forehead. She’ll have to cancel dinner with Tom, let him know that the kitchen will be in use and she’ll need to work. She can’t not be around for their first guest. She ignores the pang of disappointment in her stomach, wondering if it’s actually relief. ‘How long is he staying?’

  ‘That’s the great thing,’ Nikki says, leaning forward on the bar. ‘He didn’t say. He left it open-ended but said it would be for a few nights at least.’

  Mel absorbs the news then gives a definitive nod. ‘We’ve got this, Nikki,’ she says, holding up her right hand, palm out. ‘Haven’t we?’ She pulls a silly but excited face.

  ‘Damn right, boss,’ Nikki chimes, giving her a high five back.

  Lying on her bed, with Kate happily pulling her gifts from the bags, tearing off price tags and trying them on, Mel composes a text to Tom.

  So sorry. I have my first guest tonight. Can we take a rain check on dinner?

  She presses send and flops back down on her pillow.

  ‘Mum, these are just amazing! I’ve never, ever had so much new stuff. Not even at Christmas. Thank you so much.’ Kate ducks down to the bed and gives Mel a tight hug, momentarily warming her heart. ‘Is it OK if Chloe comes for a sleepover tonight? I can’t wait to show her all my new stuff. Her mum’s dropping her off soon. I said you wouldn’t mind.’ Kate stares down at Mel. ‘Mum? What’s up? You look really sad.’

  Mel sits up. ‘Oh, it’s nothing, love. Honestly. I’m fine.’ She forces a smile. ‘And of course Chloe can stay over tonight.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’ Kate pulls the dress Mel had bought for herself from its bag. ‘This is lovely,’ she says. ‘Special occasion?’

  Mel sighs. ‘Not really. It was silly even buying it. I’ll take it back in a few days. It’s not my thing at all.’

  ‘Nonsense, Mum. It’s so pretty. Reckon you’ll look amazing in it when Tom takes you out on a date.’

  ‘Stop it, young lady,’ Mel says, mustering a laugh. She whips the dress from Kate’s hand and shoves it back in the bag. She won’t be needing that tonight. Stupid of her to think she would. She and Kate are just fine, the two of them together.

  Mel’s phone pings.

  OK, I understand x

  Mel sighs. He didn’t even put up a fight.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Kate says, peering over Mel’s shoulder. ‘Tom? Ooh, look, he put a kiss.’

  Mel shoves her phone down on the bed.

  ‘I know he likes you, Mum. I can tell. Is that why you bought the dress? Are you trying to impress him? Do you like him too? Is he your boyfriend now?’ Kate chants, dancing around. ‘Oooh, Mum’s in lurrrve…’

  Mel rolls her eyes. She was in love once, yes. Stupidly, with Billy. But at least that love, albeit toxic, produced such a little firecracker, she thinks, getting up off the bed and chasing Kate for a tickle.

  ‘Enough of that, young lady. We’ve got a hotel guest staying, don’t you know. So best behaviour from you, please, and no running around the corridors.’

  Kate gives a sharp salute. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ she says, giggling, standing to attention. Then she whispers, ‘But I know you like him, Mum.’

  Twenty-Eight

  ‘Good evening, Mr…’ Mel glances down at the laptop on the reception desk, wishing she’d had time to change into something a little smarter. She didn’t want to put on the new dress since she’s planning on returning it anyway, but apart from jeans, T-shirts and baggy sweaters, she owns little else. Before the move, she was either wearing her work uniform or simply just at home. She scans the booking system for their only guest’s name as he comes down the stairs.

  ‘Good evening, Mr Spencer, and welcome to Moreton Inn,’ she says cheerily, smoothing down her T-shirt and running her fingers through her hair.

  The man stops on the bottom step, staring at Mel for what seems far too long.

  ‘Good evening,’ he replies in a deep, commanding voice. He offers a small smile.

  ‘How’s your room?’ Mel asks, feeling nervous. ‘Everything to your satisfaction?’ She might not look the part right now, but she can at least try to sound it.

  ‘Very nice indeed, thank you. Is it possib
le to get a drink before dinner?’

  Mel glances at her watch. ‘Of course. The bar has just opened. Please excuse all the ongoing renovations. You’re actually… well, you’re our first customer since I took over the place.’

  ‘Excellent. On both counts,’ he says through a mouth so pursed, Mel wonders if his lips have a drawstring.

  As he comes down the last step, she sees that he’s several inches taller than her. As Nikki reported, he’s dressed in a smart suit – though his tie is loosened at the collar, his top button undone. She wonders if he’s in the area on business – perhaps for a company conference and he’d not wanted to stay with his colleagues, maybe preferring somewhere more personal. For some reason, she gets the impression he’s a bit of a loner. There’s a serene look about him, as though he’s comfortable in his own skin. A confident man with an agenda.

  ‘Follow me. The bar is just through here, and… well, it’s not going to be jumping with people tonight. Though we do have a couple of locals in occasionally. And you never know, it’s Friday night, so…’ Mel halts herself, prone to over-talking. He probably just wants a quiet beer, a meal and then to retire to his room with a good book. She opens the door to the bar, signalling for Nikki to take over. ‘Enjoy your drink, Mr Spencer,’ Mel says, wanting nothing more than to get up to her room to make herself more presentable.

  Upstairs on the landing, she finds Miss Sarah standing between her and Kate’s bedroom doors, arms dangling down by her sides and her head slowly turning between one room and the other.

  ‘Hello,’ Mel says, resigned to getting no reply. ‘Are you going down for your dinner?’ she asks. ‘Just to let you know, we have a guest staying tonight.’ When, of course, Miss Sarah doesn’t say anything, Mel moves past her and opens her bedroom door, closing it behind her. She leans back against it, wishing she’d not mentioned the guest. The less interaction Miss Sarah has with people staying, the better. She makes a mental note to chase up Robert Hedges, the solicitor, in the morning. Find out where she stands legally. It’s beyond unsettling now.