Page 10
Once revived by her shower, she put on a pair of loose grey trousers, a white shirt and a blue jacket with embroidered hummingbirds on the lapels. She dried her hair and applied makeup, checking she was camera ready in the mirror. While there wouldn’t – or shouldn’t – be any cameras in the dining room, one could never be sure. She wondered idly what Lottie might be wearing at dinner, assuming she was there. Of course, she’d probably be working.
She smoothed down her sleek dark hair and nodded. Yes, she was ready. Slipping on a pair of blue loafers, she locked her room and went down the stairs to the dining hall, walking once more through the grand hall past the improbably large Christmas tree. It glistened through the room, adding a warmth despite the cold and dark outside.
The restaurant was wood-panelled, with boughs of holly and tartan bows at every opportunity. Warm white fairy lights twinkled, and, here and there, gold baubles hung down. Complete with candles on the tables, it made for an inviting space.
Hannah was greeted by a man she hadn’t seen before, and sent up a silent prayer of thanks that it wasn’t Lottie taking her to her table. She was led to a table set for one, complete with another tiny Christmas tree. She was no stranger to eating alone. In her career, eating alone in London restaurants at all times of the day and night was part of the job description. News didn’t wait. This was the first time she’d been on any kind of holiday alone, though, and it felt different. She hated the thought of people pitying her lonely holiday. She lifted her chin and looked at the menu before her, hoping that anyone watching her would see she was perfectly happy by herself, and had no need for other people.
The menu was impressive, with a range of local delicacies, including fish caught that morning on the coast nearby.
“Good evening, madam, and welcome to McLennon Castle Restaurant.” The voice was unfamiliar and unmistakably local. Hannah looked up to see a woman in chef’s whites, her hands clasped together.
Hannah smiled. “Thank you.”
“It’s customary for the chef to take the order on the first night of a new resident’s stay. My name is Anya, and I’m here to make sure you’ve had the best meal you’ve ever eaten.” The woman grinned.
“Well that’s a bold claim,” said Hannah, an eyebrow raised. She was tickled by the confidence of the woman.
“I’ll check in with you later and you can let me know what you think.” Anya pulled out a notepad and waited expectantly.
Hannah ordered a glass of white wine and the haddock served with seasonal vegetables.
“Great choice, madam,” said Anya, scribbling down the details.
The wine arrived quickly. It was good, and slid down effortlessly. It helped make her feel a little more relaxed, although she was beginning to wish she’d brought a book with her. She would normally be scrolling on her phone, but she was still making a concerted effort to escape from the news.
The tables around her were slowly filling with couples and family groups. It was clear this was a place people came for celebratory Christmas meals, and she could see why. Instrumental music played in the background, with carol variations making themselves apparent from time to time.
Someone approached her table from behind. This time the voice was familiar.
“Good evening, Hannah,” said Lottie.
Hannah looked up. Lottie had changed out of her scruffy day wear into a well-worn but gorgeous green dress that picked out her eyes.
“Hi,” said Hannah. “I, er, I’ve already ordered, thank you. But some water would be great.”
Lottie’s face fell momentarily. “Oh, er no, I just came over to say hi, actually.”
Hannah’s stomach dropped.
“I’m over there with my family.” Lottie gestured to a table nearby at which an older straight couple and a woman in her early twenties sat.
“Oh, sorry, I just assumed. Sorry,” said Hannah. “I can see you wear a lot of hats here.”
“I guess so,” said Lottie with a weak smile. “Tonight I’m wearing the diner hat. I’ll grab you some water, though.”
She retreated quickly, and Hannah hated herself violently for every second between her leaving and returning with the jug of water. Of course she wasn’t working that night. Waiting staff didn’t wear beautiful green dresses. She seemed to have dropped herself in it again, when all she’d wanted was a quiet evening meal.
Once she had her water and Lottie was back with her family, Hannah took a surreptitious glance at the table where she sat. Was the younger woman her daughter? Had Lottie had to leave the profession as a result of getting pregnant? She’d been something of a party animal back then. It would explain a lot. Hannah had never had any desire to have children. She didn’t want to repeat the mistakes of her own mother. But at the same time, she knew parenting wasn’t easy.
Carl had always wanted children. It was a constant bone of contention between them. Hannah felt for him. He couldn’t help wanting them, any more than she could help not wanting them.
She imagined how different her life would have been if she’d got pregnant at twenty-one. It would have put a massive spanner in the works.
When the food arrived, it did not disappoint. Anya’s tongue-in-cheek remark about it being the best meal she’d ever eaten wasn’t a million miles from the truth. The fish was cooked to perfection, with the perfect blend of herbs. Paired with the vegetables and the elaborate foam, it was one of the better meals she’d had in some time. It went beautifully with the wine and her glass was soon empty. She ordered another and forgot all about Lottie and the past, focusing instead on the feast before her.
Chapter Ten
LOTTIE
