The Holiday Cruise: The feel-good heart-warming romance you need to read this year. Victoria CookeЧитать онлайн книгу.
that. I was embarrassed to admit that I hadn’t even given it a moment’s consideration, but I suppose I’d just assumed that Jess and Amy would be okay holding the fort. As my eyes scanned the room, I spotted a note on the counter, written in Jess’s tell-tale bubbly writing.
Hannah,
We’ve tried to call you a million times – we’ve been to your house and left a note there too. I know you’re going through a tough time, and we’ve tried to hold the fort here, but we can’t afford to continue working at Hollywood Hut. Amy and I took £50 each from the cash takings to cover some of our pay, but most customers paid by card so we couldn’t take our full wages. Hopefully, when you get this, you’ll be able to sort out what we’re owed.
We’re really sorry to leave you and do hope you’re coping.
Hope you understand.
Jess & Amy
PS: We’ve posted our keys through your letterbox.
I slumped against the counter, clutching the note in a shaky hand, taking in the business I’d worked so hard to build. Even through the gloom, I could clearly see the comfy chairs where clients waited and the nail bar where Jess and Amy had laughed and joked with customers. I could see the hours I’d spent decorating and planning and dreaming. I could see the life I’d had.
Moments passed as I stared into space, trying to make sense of everything and put a plan together. I couldn’t lose my business too. I shook my head and, forcing myself into action, I dialled Jess’s number.
‘Hannah?’ she answered cautiously.
‘Oh, thank God, Jess, yes, it’s me. I’m in the salon and I’ve just found your note. I completely understand why you left, but I’m okay now and I’m ready to reopen. I just need you and Amy to come back – the three musketeers together once more.’ I forced cheer into my tone.
‘Oh, Hannah.’ She paused, and my stomach sank. I knew what was coming.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I whispered, holding back tears. I knew I’d been selfish, locking myself away from the world without giving a thought to those who I might have affected. Poor Amy must’ve been sick with worry wondering how she was going to make ends meet. A wave of guilt mingled with the nausea in my stomach.
‘I didn’t want to leave. I just really needed to make sure I had a wage coming in and I didn’t know when you’d be back. I’d already borrowed money from my parents to cover the shortfall and I couldn’t ask them again. You were totally AWOL.’ She sighed heavily. ‘Cherry at Glam Shack offered me a job a few weeks ago and I had to take it. I’m sorry, I tried my best to get hold of you, H, I really did.’
I could tell from her voice she was devastated; we’d had a great thing going on at Hollywood Hut. Glam Shack was the only other salon in our small village of Tinbury in North Yorkshire and Cherry had invented herself as somewhat of a rival. She’d be loving this. I sighed and fell back against the wall.
‘I had the electricity turned off so you wouldn’t get billed for it,’ she added. She was a sweetheart, which made losing her all the more difficult.
‘And what about Amy?’ I asked, already knowing what the answer would be.
‘She’s here too, at Glam Shack. She was already late with her rent. H, there’s something else…’ She pulled in a long breath. ‘A lot of your clients have been coming to Glam Shack too. Cherry’s got them all on block bookings and packages – she really went to town on cornering the market at your expense.’
My chest tightened. Losing my staff was a devastating blow; but losing my customers? That would ruin me. It was a moment before I could speak.
‘Thanks for letting me know,’ I muttered before hanging up the phone. My chest heaved and sobs burst out uncontrollably. How had it come to this? I’d lost everything, whilst he – Daniel – still had his thriving electrical supply shop and a happy new life with whatsherface. Suddenly unable to stop myself, I screamed, swiping everything from the counter. The tip bowl crashed against the wall, smashing into a million tiny fragments. It was a perfect symbolic representation of my life. I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve any of it.
After a good five minutes, I calmed myself down and began to sweep up the shards and arrange the other items neatly back on the desk. I was too proud of the business I’d built to see it a mess, but it’d served its purpose in those few moments of despair. I dried my eyes and wiped away the smudged mascara from underneath my eyes. Dark circles remained and it was hard to tell if they were etched in from the sleepless nights or just stubborn stains from the mascara. When I looked vaguely human again, I stood in the middle of the salon, trying to get my thoughts into some kind of order. I was going to need coffee.
The outside air was calm and still, contrasting with my earlier outburst. A cold snap had brought some autumnal frost to the village, which had decorated the high street beautifully. The cobbles were glistening silver, bringing an air of magic to the place, which normally would have excited me, serving to foreshadow Christmas perfectly. I’d have enjoyed snuggling up by the window in the café, gazing out down the pretty village high street with a hot chocolate warming my hands. Now, it felt so wrong: a juxtaposition of heartbreak amidst beauty. Smashed windows, graffiti, and litter would have served as a more appropriate backdrop. It was still a way off but the thought of spending Christmas alone made me shudder.
I popped into Jean’s coffee shop and ordered a large cappuccino to take away. ‘How are you coping, love?’ she asked solemnly as she handed me my five pence change, which I chucked in the tip jar. The whole village must know about me and Daniel. I plastered on a smile.
‘I’m holding up, thanks, Jean,’ I replied before scuttling off and heading back home to try and work out how to save my business.
I spent a quarter of an hour enjoying my coffee in silence, plucking up the courage to win back my customers. If they returned, Amy and Jess could return, and I could at least salvage something from the dire situation I was in. I booted up my laptop whilst my plan was forming. Manager’s specials, welcome-back discounts, bring-a-friend Fridays – Cherry at Glam Shack wouldn’t know what had hit her. As the adrenaline pumped around my body, the ideas kept coming. Balloons. Balloons outside would really draw the eye. Free product demos would help with upselling. It wouldn’t be so hard, and once I was back working again, I’d be too busy to think about him.
I looked at the screen, and my heart stopped. The wallpaper had loaded, and I was hit with the painful image of a happy couple. It was taken on holiday in Cancun back in April. Daniel and I were cuddled up on the beach, sipping cocktails at sunset. My usually straight, chin-length dark hair had caught natural highlights in the sun, and the saltwater had worked its magic, creating loose waves. I had on a simple yellow sleeveless shirtdress that set my tan off perfectly.
Daniel was tanned and wore a Hawaiian-style shirt that we’d giggled about. His arm was thrown lazily around my shoulder and I could still feel the warmth of it. We’d gone to celebrate Daniel’s fortieth birthday and it was the perfect setting – such a romantic place. We’d been so happy that now, thinking back, it was hard to believe he’d already met her. Nobody would’ve guessed.
The image threw me back six weeks to that awful day: ‘Hannah, I’m leaving you,’ he’d said, so matter-of-fact.
I was confused – leaving me what? His Twix? His car keys? ‘You’re going to work?’ I’d asked, without thinking. It was evening but it wasn’t unheard of for him to have to go back at night.
He moved around to face me. ‘No, Hannah, I’m leaving you for…’ Her name hadn’t even registered, but I remember it sounding cheap, the name of a woman only a weak man would choose over his dedicated and loving wife.
The rest of that day was a blur. I recalled clinging to him, begging him not to go, and the physical pain I felt when he shrugged me off. When my efforts failed,