At last, when all the guests had wandered out into the garden, where chairs, tables and umbrellas had been set up for their comfort – it being unseasonably warm – the washing-up could properly begin.
None of the guests seemed to want to go home. The waiting staff undertook to make tea and coffee for those who wanted, and the lads, sons and nephews of the head waitress took orders from the bar. Meg could see both what an important event this was for the locality and how fond they all were of ‘the big house’ even though it was now a hotel.
With Susan in charge, the washing-up got done surprisingly quickly, the women all chatting hard about the guests: which ones they were related to, what they were wearing and who had been sweet on whom years ago.
Meg slipped away into the kitchen garden. There was an old bench with a lovely view where she could sit, undisturbed. She was cautiously pleased with how the banquet had gone. It wasn’t really her business,but she couldn’t help feeling connected to the hotel now. She also knew that her mother felt very strongly about it. She thought she had done a good job for her.
In spite of the shade, Meg was hot. She unbuttoned her chef’s jacket and was tempted to take it off completely. Under it she was wearing a boy’s cotton vest over her bra. After a few moments, she shrugged off the jacket and closed her eyes. No one would find her here, behind the rhubarb.
She realised she’d dozed off when she opened her eyes and saw Justin looking down at her. She fought her instinct to pull on her jacket and tried to pretend her vest was really a sleeveless top and perfectly respectable.
‘I’m sorry to wake you, but I need to go fairly soon,’ he said, ‘and I’d appreciate a word with you and your mother before I do. In the office.’
Then he walked away.
Meg pulled on her jacket, wondering how long he’d been watching her sleep, how undressed and sweaty she had actually looked, and what he was going to say.
She was relieved to see that Louise had already joined Justin in the office and had made tea. Meg took the last chair, squashed in behind the door, and took the cup her mother handed to her.
‘I think I can report to my father that the lunch went well,’ said Justin. ‘Nightingale Woods can feel proud of itself on this at least.’
The way he said it told Meg he was going to follow this positive statement with a lot of negative ones.
‘Mrs Sanderson, you must be aware by now that the hotel is losing money. It’s not a situation that can be allowed to continue.’
‘It’s not something I can control,’ said Louise. ‘I’m just holding the fort—’
‘I know. But unless my father can come back soon, I’m going to have to do something drastic,’ he said.
‘Are you going to take over here?’ asked Meg, thinking she might be on her way to France sooner than she anticipated.
‘I have a job already,’ said Justin. ‘I can’t sort this place out too and obviously you won’t be able to. It’s a matter of just muddling along until something sensible can be done about the place.’ He regarded Meg and her mother for a few doom-laden moments and then got to his feet. ‘Louise, you’re in charge of the office. Meg, you’re the chef – temporarily.’ He took a pen and wrote something down on a bit of paper. ‘That’s my number for when you get into difficulties and the salary I’m prepared to pay you, Meg. I’ve asked the staff who had left—’
‘Been sacked,’ muttered Meg.
‘—to come back, and they’ve agreed to, for slightly higher wages.’ Justin paused. ‘Paying you instead of Geoff won’t add to the overheads, but we will need to resign ourselves to having to wind down the hotel.’
‘What about Ambrosine?’ asked Louise.
Justin shrugged. ‘That will be up to my father but I expect she’ll have to find somewhere else to live when Nightingale Woods is closed.’
Meg instantly thought of how much Ambrosine loved the house and how helpful she’d been.
Justin stood up and put down his cup. ‘I must get back.’ He addressed Meg: ‘But you did well – for a woman – hardly more than a girl really.’ Was there a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth and in his eyes? Yes there was, and there was also respect.
Meg suppressed her own smile in response. She couldn’t help being pleased, even if he’d wrapped his compliment in derision.
Meg and Louise looked at each other when he’d gone.
‘What a very unpleasant young man,’ said Louise.
‘Yes,’ said Meg firmly. ‘Let’s see how much he thinks I should be paid.’
‘That’s nearly what we paid Geoff,’ said Louise in utter surprise, when they’d looked at the scrap of paper.
‘Quite right too,’ said Meg, trying not to faint with shock.
Chapter Six
