The Golden Oldies Guesthouse (ARC) Read online

  ‘I suppose we should ask Gina to give you a hand with the cleaning. She’s always looking for ways to earn extra money, and you get on well with her.’

  Tess had been thinking very much along the same lines. She knew Gina was fed up working for Jed and Annie. ‘They’re a scruffy, untidy couple,’ she’d confided to Tess, ‘but I can guarantee that the kitchen is spotless because I damn well make sure that it is. And most of the meals are pre-prepared and just need microwaving, so there’s a fair chance you and your guests can avoid salmonella.’

  She’d like to have Gina help her but Tess wondered if they could afford it. Perhaps, when all their guests were settled in and looking for breakfast, lunch and dinner, she herself might not have much energy left for cleaning and laundry. Not for the first time she wondered if perhaps they had bitten off more than they could chew. It would be considerably easier if they were twenty years younger.

  They’d decided to offer special rates for long-stay guests and then wondered if anyone, other than Dominic, would have a reason to stay on for weeks or perhaps even months. But there appeared to be a number of single people looking to get away from it all – for whatever reason. A single woman was due to arrive in five days’ time, another single woman in a week’s time, and a couple a few days later. Both of the women had booked for a month, possibly extending their stay, depending… depending on what, Tess was not sure.

  Tess was relieved not to be busy straight away because Matt, Lisa and the children had rented one of the fisherman’s cottages down on the beach for the weekend. She knew Matt was keen to see how the business was progressing and Tess was desperate to see her family.

  * * *

  ‘Wow!’ exclaimed Matt, as Tess led them through the new sitting room and pressed the switch for the glass doors to do their folding. Except they only folded halfway along and then stopped. Matt and Lisa wandered out onto the terrace, apparently unaware that the bi-fold doors were not bi-folding. Tess felt disappointed that her ‘Wow!’ moment had unexpectedly failed. She pressed the switch again. Nothing. Perhaps there was a power failure? She tested a couple of lights. No problem there. Tess was relieved that no one was paying any attention to her as she shoved and struggled with the doors because Matt and Lisa were being entertained by Simon’s rather exaggerated and entertaining account of the problems they’d encountered getting everything ship-shape in time for the first guest arriving.

  ‘What a transformation since Christmas!’ Matt exclaimed.

  ‘Well,’ Tess said, ‘here’s another problem for your repertoire, Simon! How about folding doors that are stuck halfway across and refuse to open or close? How about a room with no protection from the Atlantic wind and rain? And how about it being a Saturday so, naturally, nobody will be able to do anything until Monday?’ And why was there always some damned problem?

  Simon stopped mid-sentence. ‘What do you mean, the doors aren’t working?’

  ‘I mean they’re not working. Go and see for yourself.’

  As she joined the others on the terrace she found Ellie skipping about excitedly while Lisa was retrieving Josh from trying to climb over the low wall that separated them from the sheer drop below and to certain oblivion. ‘We are going to get something higher put up,’ Tess said, ‘but, since our guests are all adults and we’ve run out of cash, it has to go on the back burner for now.’

  Simon came out again scratching his head. ‘These mega-expensive folding doors have given up the ghost and are stuck halfway across,’ he said. ‘Probably a power failure. Why the hell didn’t we choose the manual version? Anyway, I think there is some way to do it manually, isn’t there?’

  ‘There had better be,’ Tess replied, ‘because they are well and truly stuck. And there’s no power failure.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it now,’ Simon said airily. ‘I’ll have a look at it later.’

  Tess sighed. She’d so looked forward to Matt’s visit and now all she was doing was panicking about doors that refused to move in any direction.

  Dominic had gone to visit Truro. Was there a Marks & Spencer there? he’d wanted to know. On being told that there was a large one at Lemon Quay, he said he’d forgotten to bring his chinos and he wanted to buy a couple of pairs. And so, now that their one and only guest had gone out, Simon was able to give them a tour of all the renovations, pointing out all the work that had been done since Christmas.

  Matt was impressed. ‘My God,’ he said, ‘you two have worked hard. But this place is beautiful and the view is phenomenal.’

  ‘Why can’t we stay here often, Nana?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘Well, sometimes you’ll be able to but mainly in the winter probably. But, hey! I’ve got just the place where you could stay anytime. Do you remember Windsor Castle?’

  ‘Where the Queen lives?’

  ‘Not quite. The place where Grandpa Simon and I were sleeping at Christmas.’

  Tess took Ellie’s hand and led her out of the front door, across the parking area and along the path through the trees.

  ‘Oh, it’s your little house!’ Ellie clapped her hands with delight. ‘Oh, I’d love to stay here! Can I show Mummy?’

  Tess was none too sure Mummy would approve. She didn’t think Lisa was a caravan holiday type of person. She’d already grumbled about having to walk through the kitchen to get to the bathroom in the fisherman’s cottage, but at least that was a full-sized proper bathroom.

  Lisa refrained from commenting other than to say that the children would probably love it and, when they were a little older, perhaps they could come down by themselves during the school holidays. Tess could decipher the relief in Lisa’s voice at the prospect of saving weeks of child-minding and au pair fees, not to mention the endless ferrying them around. Lisa was first and foremost a career woman in an executive job with a hotel chain. She’d bowed to convention by marrying Matt (although Tess knew that she did love him) and having two children. And she didn’t doubt that Lisa loved her children dearly, too, but she’d freely admitted there was absolutely no way that she could stay at home all day cooking and cleaning and wiping snotty noses or whatever it was stay-at-home mothers were supposed to do. It was all so different from her own life when Matt and Amber were small! But that was nearly forty years ago and times and attitudes change. The main thing was that Matt was happy, and Tess had two lovely grandchildren.

  As they emerged out from the trees towards the front door Tess saw Matt stroking the cat.

  ‘Dylan’s still alive, then?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, he seems to like it here. Mind you he’s slowing up; he’s only managed to catch one mouse in the seven months we’ve been here but he spends a lot of time looking out of the window at the birds, his whiskers twitching.’ Tess looked fondly at the cat. ‘Simon keeps on about getting a Labrador or something, but it wouldn’t be fair on poor old Dylan.’

  Tess had prepared a selection of salads for lunch on the dining room table but didn’t dare attempt to open up the doors in here in case they stuck, too. She and Simon and Matt had all had a go at trying to move the ones in the sitting room, both physically and electronically, to no avail.

  Although it was Saturday afternoon Simon decided to ring the company on the off chance that somebody might be taking emergency calls at the weekend. But there was only a recorded message thanking him for calling Glide Easy windows and could he please phone during office hours, nine to five, Monday to Friday – and thank you very much. Simon was furious.

  The idea was that they would all meet up for a meal at The Portmerryn Arms in the evening.

  ‘We can’t go out without being able to lock the doors,’ Tess pointed out. ‘We’re missing half a wall.’

  ‘Probably safe enough in this neck of the woods,’ said Simon, who was hankering after a pint of Doom Bar.

  ‘Come on, Simon, anybody could walk in and clear the place!’

  ‘Well, we could ask Dominic to keep an eye on the place, couldn’t we?’

  ‘There’s no guar
antee Dominic is going to be in this evening. He said he wouldn’t have dinner because he’d eat while he was out, and he may well decide to make an evening of it.’ Tess was irritated by Simon’s flippant attitude. ‘And, even if he is in, we can hardly ask a paying guest to look after our house.’

  ‘What if it rains?’ Matt asked. ‘Shall I google the weather forecast for this evening?’

  Without waiting for a reply he dug out his phone and, after a minute, reported, ‘Wind and rain approaching from the west.’

  ‘Oh bugger!’ said Tess.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Simon said. ‘We’ll fix up a tarpaulin over the opening. Perhaps you’d give me a hand, Matt?’

  ‘With pleasure,’ said Matt, and the two of them set out to find a tarpaulin which Simon reckoned might just be somewhere in the garage.

  At this point little Josh decided he’d had enough of socialising and wanted a nap. Tess tried to settle him down in their bed but he wasn’t having any of it.

  ‘I’ll have to take him back to the cottage,’ Lisa sighed. ‘If he doesn’t get a nap now there’ll be hell to pay later when we’re trying to eat dinner.’

  While Simon and Matt battled to get the tarpaulin into position, Tess drove Lisa and the children down to the cottage, which was next door to the one she and Simon had stayed in on their first visit. She got back at exactly the same time as Dominic, who informed her that he was going to have a quick shower and then take himself off to the cinema in Wadebridge where they were showing a film that he’d missed seeing in London. Well, thought Tess, he wouldn’t have been able to do any house-sitting even if I’d agreed to ask him. She wandered into the sitting room and found it in semi-darkness with the tarpaulin blocking out half the light and her husband and son still struggling to get it to stay in place. A few minutes later they came walking round the house and in the front door.

  ‘That should do it,’ said Simon airily.

  ‘It won’t exactly keep the burglars out,’ Tess snapped.

  ‘You’re obsessed with bloody burglars,’ said Simon. ‘This is Cornwall! People do not get burgled round here!’

  ‘Yes, they do! Gina told me that somebody tried to get into Pearly’s shop one night not so long ago, but Pearly’s alarm sounded full volume and off he scarpered with only a big box of Rose’s chocolates.’

  ‘Big-time criminals round here,’ Simon muttered jokingly to Matt.

  Matt gave his mother a hug. ‘I’d better go see what the family are up to,’ he said. ‘See you later.’

  ‘We cannot go out this evening,’ Tess said when they were alone.

  ‘Of course we can,’ replied Simon.

  ‘Well, that’s up to you. I’m staying right here.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ he said.

  They’d arranged to meet up in the pub at around seven o’clock, and at six thirty Simon began to get himself ready to go.

  ‘You mean you’re actually planning to go?’ Tess asked as he emerged from the bedroom.

  ‘Well, of course I’m going! And so are you, aren’t you?’

  ‘Someone’s got to stay in the house,’ Tess insisted.

  ‘Well, it isn’t going to be me,’ snapped Simon, ‘because it’s completely unnecessary.’

  ‘In that case it’ll have to be me.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! We’re only going to be out for an hour or so because they’re going to want to get the kids to bed,’ Simon said.

  ‘I’m not leaving this house with half a wall missing!’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’

  Tess was becoming angrier and angrier. How dare he treat their security so lightly! And how dare he ridicule her for worrying about it! She sat at the kitchen table and waited for him to come in and say, ‘OK, you go. It’s your son after all, and I’ll stay here.’ She waited and waited and then – at five minutes to seven – he put his head round the door and said cheerfully, ‘Well, I’m off! You know where we are if you decide to join us, or if you need help to confront the gang of robbers on your own.’

  The inconsiderate bastard! Tess felt her eyes well up with tears of self-pity and rage. She picked up the glass of water she’d been drinking from and hurled it at him, but he’d already closed the door and so it smashed into smithereens all over the floor.

  Weeping openly, she realised she should have had everyone to dinner here. Why hadn’t she asked them? Had she been secretly hoping that Simon would be gallant enough to insist on staying? And now what would she do if someone did break in? For sure she should never have married this selfish man who rated a pint of Doom Bar more highly than the safety of his wife.

  She needed a drink. She was halfway through her second large glass of a very nice Malbec when she heard footsteps outside. Now she was probably about to be murdered and she wouldn’t even be able to say ‘I told you so’.

  As she stood up shakily to investigate the door burst open and in they all came, brandishing parcels wrapped in newspaper.

  ‘Did you know that a fish and chip van comes and parks outside the cottages every Saturday night?’ Simon asked breezily, as they all deposited their packages onto the table.

  ‘We got you haddock and chips, Mum. Is that OK?’ Matt placed a package in front of his mother. ‘Can you find us some salt and vinegar?’

  ‘I’ll open some more wine,’ Simon said, ‘because there doesn’t seem to be much left in this bottle.’ He raised an eyebrow at Tess.

  ‘Have you been crying, Nana?’ Ellie asked climbing onto a chair next to Tess.

  Tess put an arm round her. ‘Of course not,’ she said, ‘I’m just a bit tired.’

  She supposed she should be pleased at this obvious solution to the problem. But all she wanted to do was wring Simon’s neck.

  15

  CELIA

  Celia Winsgrove had never driven such a long way in her entire life, which was sixty-seven years and three months. Her old Vauxhall, which had replaced the ancient Morris Minor some fifteen years back, had rarely gone further than Sainsbury’s and the once or twice she’d driven down to Bath to see her cousin, Elinor. She liked Bath. Now she was free she might consider moving to Bath eventually, but not now.

  This BMW sport was something else! She’d only taken her eyes off the road for a couple of seconds to look at some lambs in a field and when she looked back at the speedometer she realised she was doing eighty miles an hour! That was way over the speed limit and she could get arrested! Eighty miles an hour! She’d never driven at more than forty or fifty miles per hour in her whole life but this machine accelerated like a bullet so she’d have to be careful.

  Celia hadn’t gone out with the intention of buying a BMW, of course, and certainly not a sports model, but the salesman – when he realised how much money she was prepared to spend – was very persuasive. And she liked its colour – red, which was very racy. She realised that she wouldn’t be able to make it from Dudley to Cornwall in one go, so she’d stopped overnight at one of these chain hotels just outside Bristol. It was a motel, really, a place for drivers to stay when they needed a break from hour after hour of driving. It was a bit drab, but clean and comfortable, and it had an en suite bathroom! With a bath and a shower and lots of little bottles of shampoo and the like. It was quite nice really, but not nearly so luxurious as the place she was heading for now.

  Celia did not like motorway driving, but it had to be the only sensible way to get to the South-West, otherwise she’d have to find a load of A and B roads, and look out for signs, get stuck in traffic jams and probably get lost to boot. There were no traffic jams on the M5, just cars whizzing by her all the time. She rarely ventured out into the middle lane and she couldn’t even contemplate getting into that fast overtaking lane. What was their hurry anyway? She liked to enjoy the countryside, not that she could see much stuck between enormous trucks and caravans.

  It was a little easier on the A30, which was dual carriageway and marginally less manic. Even so, when she’d ventured out to overtake a caravan doing abo
ut twenty miles an hour, some car behind had tooted at her and flashed their lights. Why? She’d signalled, hadn’t she, and she certainly wasn’t breaking the speed limit? He was plainly going far too fast. She’d overtaken the caravan and got back into the inside lane.

  It was cloudy but warm, and she decided to open the window. It was difficult to open it a little because, the moment she touched the button, the window shot down all the way with the speed of light. It was so much easier in the Vauxhall when you could just wind it down to where you wanted. She’d get used to this, she supposed. Like she’d get used to the remote control that locked and unlocked the doors. This was all fine as long as there wasn’t some electronic failure and then she’d need to be able to unlock the door with a proper key and have a handle with which to wind down the window.

  Now, she was to look out for some exit or other so she slowed down to be able to read the signs more clearly. The next one she saw said ‘Welcome to Cornwall’, which was nice. She’d never been to Cornwall before. Mummy hadn’t cared for long journeys and she couldn’t very well have gone off on her own. Particularly not during those past few years when Mummy was more or less bedridden.

  ‘What do you want to be painting for?’ she’d asked when Celia bought the big box of watercolours.

  ‘I’ve always fancied it,’ Celia had said, remembering that she’d been good at art in school. But Mummy had tut-tutted and said something about her getting above herself, and what was wrong with reading a nice book or knitting another jumper?

  Now, here she was, heading for some magical seaside place where she’d be able to paint all day long if she liked. So what if she’d got above herself? It was the first time in her life that she’d had any freedom or any money. Here she was, in her Jaeger jumper and trousers, driving a red BMW, and going on a painting sabbatical! She was calling it a sabbatical because it was going to be longer than a normal holiday. She planned to stay a month at least, unless of course she had to move on quickly. But she didn’t think anyone was likely to find her where she was going.