Romantic Escapes. Julie CaplinЧитать онлайн книгу.
her.
‘It’s ridiculous,’ snapped Lucy. ‘The housekeeper should be responsible for them.’
‘She … won’t do paperwork.’
‘Well, she’s going to have to,’ Lucy said, with a determined jut of her chin. ‘We can’t go on like this. You have enough to do without stripping beds and cleaning bathrooms.’
‘I don’t mind,’ said Hekla, with a gracious shrug. ‘And she runs the laundry really well.’
‘Well I do.’ Lucy’s firm voice made the blonde girl smile. ‘Laundry or no laundry. I need you in here.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied before adding with a mischievous twinkle, ‘are you going to tell her?’
They both laughed as Lucy shuddered. ‘Is it ridiculous that I’m scared of her?’
‘Nrr.’ Hekla’s vehement head shake and quick down turn of her mouth was the decider.
Lucy jumped up. ‘It is ridiculous and I’m not standing for it. I’m going to go down there now, I could do with a break from blasted paperwork. Hold the fort. I’ll be back.’
Eyrun’s dark eyes flashed as she gave the sheaf of paper in Lucy’s hand a contemptuous sneer.
‘So,’ said Lucy with a determinedly pleasant smile on her face. ‘I’d like you to take over the organisation of the chambermaid’s rosters. I’ve printed some templates that you can fill in and here are the bookings for the next week. We need a proper rota. Poor Hekla is spending too much time having to drop everything to help clean the rooms.’ There was no response from Eyrun, she simply stared at Lucy with a steely gaze. ‘And we’re quiet.’ That was an understatement, bookings were down by fifty percent, year on year.
‘But,’ Lucy lied valiantly, ignoring the fear crimping at her stomach, ‘things will start to get busy soon.’ They had to, she told herself digging her fingernails into her right palm. Hekla kept dangling the northern lights’ carrot saying that things picked up later this month. Lucy wasn’t convinced. Worryingly, there was no evidence of any kind of marketing in recent months, especially when she had two months, or rather one month and twenty-five days, to prove herself.
Eyrun sniffed and turned her back, reaching into the still warm dryer to pull out a handful of towels.
‘Eyrun.’ Lucy snapped, knowing she was venting her frustration unfairly, but they needed to improve the TripAdvisor reviews, most of which said the lodge looked tired. ‘The rooms need inspecting every day. This is your job.’ Realising she was in danger of letting her temper get the better of her and forgetting all the management training she’d ever had, she took in a deep breath. Firmness. Consistency. Clear, plain speaking. You’re the boss. Stay calm. ‘I’ve compiled a check list for you.’ Lucy put down the papers on the nearby shelf and pulled out the typed list that she’d put together this morning.
‘Ok. I check the rooms,’ said Eyrun, her mouth signalling her displeasure, edging away from the piece of paper. ‘No list. Now go. I’m busy.’ She indicated the soft cloud of towels in her arm.
‘It will help.’
‘Nrr.’ Eyrun shook her head vehemently, backing away clutching her bundle like a shield.
‘You will inspect the rooms each day?’ Lucy pressed, realising that this was a minor victory even if the rotas were a lost cause.
Eyrun glowered but nodded.
‘And let me know what needs fixing, repairing or changing. A lot of the bedspreads need cleaning or replacing. You do a great job with the laundry but some of them … I think are even beyond your magic.’
Lucy almost smiled when Eyrun’s head lifted with a touch of pride. The older woman’s English was clearly better than she let on and like most people she wasn’t immune to flattery.
‘I’ve removed some,’ in a whistle stop tour late yesterday afternoon, when she’d finally given up on the office for the day, ‘but could you compile an inventory of what can be kept and how many new ones we need to order? You will know best. I’ll follow your guidance on that.’
A flash of surprise flitted across Eyrun’s beady eyes and she tilted her head like a suspicious blackbird.
Lucy held up the list. It was non-negotiable. There were tick boxes beside each of the items and a place for Eyrun to sign at the bottom to confirm everything had been done.
‘I’ll pin this one up on the noticeboard for you. And leave the spares here. When you run out, Hekla or Brynja can run more off for you.’
Eyrun looked boot faced as Lucy crossed to the felt pin board above the desk in the other room.
‘That’s your list,’ she said, pinning a second drawing pin to the board to secure it.
Eyrun made a small hmph noise and marched back into the first room with the dryers, dumping her load on top of Lucy’s papers and pulled out a towel, shaking it out before folding it with quick, neat precise moves.
Letting her go for a minute, Lucy stepped back and frowned, pricked by a sense of something not being right. She looked at the noticeboard. Shouldn’t there be health and safety notices, emergency numbers, fire evacuation procedures, any number of basic notices? Glancing around the room, she realised that it was a blank canvas. It stirred a memory but she couldn’t place it.
‘Grr,’ said Lucy returning to the office as Hekla looked up. ‘That went well, not.’
‘You’re still in one piece then.’ Lucy whirled around to see Alex with a teasing smile on his face. ‘I hear you’ve been taming dragons.’
‘Uh,’ she said rather stupidly, taken aback by the unexpected friendly expression. Shit, he was cute.
‘I’m not sure about taming,’ she finally replied, smoothing down her skirt, as if that might make her feel more professional. ‘I won one small battle but I don’t hold out much hope on Eyrun arranging the rotas.’
‘I could do them,’ said Hekla.
‘No,’ said Lucy with a firmness that earned a small approving nod from Alex, although what it had to do with him, she didn’t know. It earned him a scowl. ‘I’ll do them for the short term and I’m thinking about promoting one of the other girls and giving them the job. What do you think about Elin or Freya?’
Hekla grinned. ‘Elin Jónsdóttir and Freya Flókisdóttir. Jón and Flóki are my dad’s cousins.’
Lucy frowned, ‘Jón and Flóki?’
‘Their fathers. In Iceland we take the name of our father or mother for our surname. I am Hekla Gunnesdóttir. My father is Gunnar. Elin and Freya are my second cousins. You would have to choose between them. But I think either will be excellent.’
‘So, Alex, how can I help you?’ He had perched on the edge of her desk as if he had all the time in the world and he was completely at ease. And then at her question, all that ease vanished and, oddly, he seemed a little disconcerted.
‘I … er, I … um … wondered if you’d like me to do an inventory of the bar stock? And I was wondering how you were after your tumble in the pool. No ill effects? Must have been a bit of a shock,’ he asked with sympathy, and seemingly back on smooth ground. ‘I never asked if you hurt yourself.’
‘Oh, no. Well, not badly.’ Absently she rubbed her hip. ‘A bruise or two.’
‘And your boots?’
She closed her eyes, in sudden pain at the state of her favourite footwear. She’d abandoned them in the bathroom and done nothing with them. ‘Not looking so good. They’re still a bit damp inside.’
‘You need to stuff them with paper, there’s plenty in the office. Hekla,’ he shot her a grin, ‘has an ongoing vendetta with the printer, I’ve got shoe