The Afternoon Tea Club. Jane GilleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘But, Dad!’ Dora had started to pout and then got a ‘quit whining’ look from her brother, Stuart.
‘Leave it out, sis,’ said Stuart. ‘You’ve had a cracker of a life so far. But back to reality. This is what’s real!’
‘Your brother’s right, Dora,’ her mother snapped. ‘So we’re getting the staff together and putting some new priorities in place. You’re not tied to anyone and you don’t have kids or a husband anywhere we should know about, do you? Don’t pull that face. You never tell us anything. That’s why I’m asking. No? Right, so therefore you’ve got no particular reason to go running back to wherever it is you hang out these days – Spain, did you say?’
Dora had stared sullenly at the patterned carpet and took hold of her father’s hand.
‘I don’t want you to die, Daddy.’
Stuart had scowled at her but her father had drawn her into a long hug.
‘I’m not dying today, sweetheart. But it’s going to happen some other day. And before that day comes we do need to sort some things out. So can I count on you to help towards that or at least help us make some decisions about things? Your mother will need all the help she can get whilst I start taking things a bit easier. That stroke has put my left hand out of kilter. And that’s my phone and writing hand, so things are going to be a bit difficult for us at the moment. I’ve already spoken to Stuart and he’s going to take over my role whilst I’m off sick with a view to taking it over permanently, even when I start to get better. He’s recruiting that Damian chap as the manager. He’s a reliable sort I believe. Been with us three years already, as bar manager, so he should do a good job. And your mother needs a certain someone to step up and help out, too. So do you think you can do that for us, Dora darling?’
Dora didn’t want to be stepping up anywhere. She was still searching for her life, the last time she looked.
‘I guess, Dad. But it’s not where my heart lies. I still don’t know where that is but I’m pretty sure it’s not in cleaning up after people or making their beds. I mean, there’s no way I could be a nurse, that’s for sure!’
‘Of course, darling.’ Her father had nodded soothingly. ‘But I think your mum could do with some help behind the scenes in the office, just until we sort things out on a more permanent basis.’
She’d pulled a narky face, despite her mother shaking her head. Inwardly, she’d have liked nothing more than to run away from that responsibility. She’d never liked the hotel life she’d been made to endure when she was younger. She’d have enjoyed working on the front desk as a receptionist in those days, but her mother had insisted she start at the muddy bottom and work her way up, which had put her off working in hotels for life!
‘Look, Dora, surely you realise you’ll be able to offer a better service to your customers as well as understanding the problems the staff face on a regular basis by doing this. And then, of course, the hope is that it’ll make you a better boss at the end of the day, when you and Stuart inherit the businesses,’ her father had said.
Inherit the businesses? So that’s what all this had been about? Dora had never wanted to inherit the sodding businesses. She’d always intended that to be Stuart’s baby when the time came for her mother and father to check out, as it were.
That type of commitment, whereby she’d have to cultivate and tout for business and then maintain that business, was too much for her. She wouldn’t be able to live a carefree life, that’s for sure. And though she’d never really known what she wanted to do in life, she’d certainly never envisaged taking on the family businesses.
All she’d ever loved doing was romping around interesting countries with equally interesting men in tow, even though she’d blown the last one, Pepe, out after she’d caught him stealing her money for his roll-ups and vodka. He wasn’t the love of her life, even though the sex had been terrific. So, at the time, her foray home because of her father’s ill health had coincided with her limited choices of what to do next. Their tiny airless studio flat in Alicante was still there awaiting her return if she decided that was her plan, though she’d told Pepe it was not.
On the other hand, it was marvellous to be back amongst the lavish trappings of her family’s home environment. She could sleep in her beautifully furnished bedroom when she wanted and eat what she wanted, when she wanted. She didn’t have to do things like go out with Pepe on his boat to catch flapping, gasping fish for their supper or spend hours scouring the markets for all the items she needed to make everything from scratch. Dora simply did not expect to have to do things like killing, skinning and gutting things in order to eat. That’s what supermarkets were for, to take the stress out of finding food on a daily basis. She found life so much more civil at home in the UK. She knew she would starve if she ever found herself stranded on a desert island.
So looking down on her father, on his sick bed that day, Dora had sighed deeply, just to let everyone know she wasn’t happy with the suggestion that she ‘pull her weight’. Yet whilst she didn’t like to admit it, she could see that it did made sense for her to stay and help her folks get things sorted and settled for a little while because she really had nowhere else to go. Plus a stint in the office would be infinitely better than cleaning up after their mainly boozy guests. So it just might be do-able.
Yeah, but then I’ll be gone, she’d told herself.
In fact, not only had Dora stayed to help out for a few months, but she’d stayed working in the family business for a good few years longer than she intended. And she did everything from bar work to, yes, cleaning toilets when the situation arose, as well as running the accounts team and sitting in on the monthly meetings and putting her points across in a professional manner. Remarkably, she found she quite enjoyed managing people and, surprise, surprise, her parents had been right – working from the bottom up had put her in a good place for dealing with problems the staff faced. Thus business and life in general, for Dora, was trotting along at a good pace and they’d just secured another small hotel in London with a view to turn it into a boutique spa hotel when her father suffered his second, fatal stroke.
And then – almost overnight – everything suddenly changed.
After the funeral, one of Martin’s business associates asked if he could buy the four Hen & Stag Hotels and Dora’s mother said ‘Yes,’ without flinching. Those hotels might have given them an enviable lifestyle but they’d never been places Yvonne had felt comfortable in, even though that’s where she made Dora do her first few years’ work experience.
Stuart had just gotten divorced and decided to take a year out and tour Australia. And there, on a train between Sydney and Brisbane, he met Hazel, the woman he was now married to. They’d moved to Devon and ran a hotel there, complete with her young daughter, Stephanie, and a rescue dog they’d called Ozzy. The Wallabies, Dora called them all. A property developer bought the boutique spa hotel in London and Dora’s mother sold the family home and flat but kept the Cotswolds hotel she now lived in and ran with Dora. And even though Dora would later admit that it wasn’t such a bad thing, no longer running around the world with the likes of Pepe, she still had her off days when she wished she could just do that.
Hence why her mother’s recent outburst had Dora lamenting to her friend Jodie that life was becoming ‘predictable’.
‘I’m still living at home with my ox of a mother, for God’s sake! And she thinks I should be settled and married like The Wallabies by now.’
‘Aw, honey,’ Jodie had crooned. ‘But you’re not the marrying kind.’
Admittedly, Dora had certainly evaded that institution! But she’d soon be fifty, a fact that concerned her greatly because, where had all that time gone?! She was certainly at an age where she no longer felt happy in her own skin and had not been on a date or hooked up with anyone delectable in years. She felt as though she was drifting again, with no particular direction in mind. She seldom went out, unless Jodie rang out of the blue and they spent a rare