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Authors: David Menon

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BOOK: Storms
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‘At least I’d know something would be happening in my otherwise stale and boring old life’ Ralph went on. ‘What difference would anything else make?’

Monica could feel her heart breaking. She knew what Ralph meant but she really didn’t think he’d weighed up the possible consequences of what he wanted to do. She’d seen what they do on the Gorton estate. It was like a war zone in parts of it.

‘So will you post my letter, please, Monica?’

Monica put the letter in her pocket and smiled. She had no intention of posting it. If Ralph couldn’t see where it could all lead then she could and she had to protect the poor old man. ‘Okay’ she said. ‘Seeing as it’s you’.

 

Annabel Matheson had been through Hell these past few weeks and months. Everything that could’ve gone wrong for her had gone wrong for her and she wished she could step back in time to when she first discovered boys and life had held such promise. Now she was a failure. Forty-two years old without a penny in the bank and not even owning the roof over the head of herself and her son. It had been a sudden plunge into darkness. She’d gone from being the socially upwardly mobile wife of a very British small businessman to being the very socially downward single Mum with a fourteen-year old son to take care of after her husband cleared off leaving her with thousands of pounds worth of debt to clear. She should’ve known it would turn out this way. Her now ex-husband Clive had once gone bankrupt before. She’d stood by him then. Everything to do with his building business and all his bank accounts and credit cards had all gone into Annabel’s name and he’d carried on with nothing on the surface to show that he was an undisclosed bankrupt. She’d been happy to show him the faith that no bank would because, despite the doubts that had been slowly growing inside her head, she was still in love with him and blinded by her affections. It had taken a visit from the bailiffs at six in the morning when they’d taken everything but the kitchen sink that had finally brought her to her senses. That and the fact that Clive had used the opportunity to tell her he was leaving her for one of the barmaids at the local pub with whom he’d been having an affair for months. At least he’d done all the damage in one go.

Annabel now worked as a receptionist at the Carrington hotel on Blackpool’s North shore. It was one of the few four-star hotels in the resort and although she found the work easy and sometimes a lot of fun, the office politics that went with it was sometimes so bloody exasperating. The hotel general manager Marilyn Kent who everybody nicknamed ‘the ice maiden’ because of her avoidance of anything remotely human like a feeling, was adored by some and reviled by others because of the way she controlled all the staff, especially the front line receptionists, according to how your face fitted with her. It had absolutely nothing to do with someone’s ability to do their job. If promotion was on offer then she’d make sure that one of her golden boys got it regardless of whether or not they were competent for it. She was very Thacherite and didn’t promote women. She only liked to promote and surround herself with men so that she could be the focus of all attention. Annabel had been leapfrogged twice for promotion by men who weren’t as good at their job as she was but she’d never been a brown nose in her life and wasn’t going to start now. And there was no point in complaining. Marilyn was only interested in the hotel’s financial results. She was about as interested in the people management side of the business as she was in drinking in her own piss. If a staff member had a grievance they were made to sweep it all under the carpet and put on the smile of a happy team that gets results. She basically couldn’t care less about the feelings of her staff. She occasionally wafted down from her office upstairs to dispense the shallow talk she called wisdom and to remind staff of the hotel group’s current financial targets. She was in competition with the hotel group’s other properties in Leeds, Manchester, Newcastle, and Glasgow. And she liked to win. It’s said that she only got the job by providing one of the hotel group director’s with oral sex. Annabel could well imagine that because the job was way beyond Kent’s obviously limited abilities.     

Annabel drove down from her rented house which was a block back from the promenade in the Anchorsholme district of the nearby seaside town of Cleveleys to start work on the 7 a.m shift. She needed the car. Early starts and late finishes didn’t always fit in with public transport even though the famous Blackpool tramline passed right by the hotel. She was about ten minutes early and so allowed herself a cigarette which she smoked with the car window open. Her son Kyle was always giving out to her about her smoking. He was turning into a proper little old woman. Bless him. At least he cared about his old Mum.

What Kyle didn’t know about was his mother’s torrid affair with Dermot who was one of the hotel’s maintenance men. He was tall, masculine, when she first saw him she thought he’d be the kind of lover who’d throw her round a hotel room and leave her breathless. And indeed he was like that but she’d also discovered a passionate, sensual side to him that left her even more breathless. Annabel wasn’t proud of herself for stepping on another woman’s patch but she needed to take just a little something back from life after all she’d given up when Clive betrayed her. She told herself it was all just a bit of fun. It didn’t matter that he was doing her self-confidence the world of good after it had taken such a battering. It didn’t matter that she went weak at the knees whenever he winked and smiled at her. It didn’t matter that he sent her by text a video of him ejaculating on one of those days when they couldn’t get together to answer their carnal needs. It didn’t matter that she would never admit to him that he could break her heart. She was pretending that none of it mattered and that she could walk away it just like that. It didn’t matter that she was deceiving herself.

She finished her cigarette and put a mint sweet in her mouth to help clear her breath. She walked into the hotel and immediately saw Tim Robinson, one of the hotels temporary summer recruits waiting to take over from the reception night shift. She loved Tim. He was about the same age as her and had matured well with his full head of black hair and lack of a beer belly. But he was also a bit of a mysterious one. He lived in a one-bedroom flat about ten minutes walk from the hotel and nobody really knew why a man of his age was still doing a reception job and wasn’t a manager of some kind. He’d been of working age for a good twenty years and yet appeared to have nothing to show for it. He spoke well and seemed intelligent. And he was also very funny. He made her laugh and could do a blisteringly good impression of Marilyn Kent. He’d clearly been around and could talk about all sorts of things and places and people. But although he was handsome and eloquent he never talked about boys or girls and nobody knew which side of the stamp he licked. And nobody felt comfortable enough to ask him. It was one of those things.

‘Hello you!’ he greeted her and they exchanged a kiss on each cheek.

‘Hello yourself’ said Annabel who was so pleased they were going to be working together. ‘Why didn’t you let me pick you up this morning? It looked like it might’ve rained. You’d have got wet’.

Tim stared at her. Annabel had seen that look before. He was like a rabbit caught in headlights and he didn’t know which way to jump to avoid being run over. What was that all about?’

‘Oh I felt like the walk’ said Tim who then added a smile. ‘I was already almost here by the time you sent me the text’.

‘Oh right’ said Annabel, nodding and not knowing whether to believe him or not. Well of course she believed him. Why on earth would he lie to her about something so meaningless? ‘Well I’ll give you a lift home once we’re finished anyway’.

‘Thanks’ said Tim, his smile remaining. ‘That would be great’.

Tim and Annabel then took the briefing from the night receptionist. Annabel knew that Tim would take it all in and end up being de facto in charge and she was quite happy about that so she let her eyes wander. No matter how hard they tried the hotel still attracted a good eighty odd percent of its clientele from the usual Blackpool crowd of chav families – although these were the upper end of the chav market who no doubt lived in houses with bay windows – and old people who’d never even contemplate going abroad because nowhere abroad served proper tea. It was depressing to look out at them all sometimes. Annabel rarely saw anyone who was half decent to look at. Thank Christ for Dermot when he wandered through in his overalls from fixing this or that. She could feel herself getting wet at the thought of him. Then she turned back to who was giving Tim the morning briefing. Jane was a miserable bitch. Mid-forties, not married and fuck didn’t everybody know about it. Anything that had ever happened to you she’d had ten times worse and she often had a set face that could curdle milk at one glance. She was also the staff trainer which she thought gave her some kind of added authority. She’d been promoted by Marilyn Kent because, Annabel considered, she was ugly and therefore no threat to Marilyn getting all the men’s attention. Annabel silently scolded herself. Jane wasn’t ugly. That was unfair of her to think that. But she did have a downtrodden disposition with a long face to match that made her ugly. She was also Marilyn’s little pet because anything anybody ever told Jane went straight to Marilyn. She couldn’t be trusted as far as any of them could spit and yet if anyone exposed her for wearing more faces than the town clock she threw such a drama with endless tears that everyone ended up feeling bad and dropped all charges even though they knew they were true. And Marilyn of course always believed Jane’s lies above anyone else’s truth.

‘So what have you been up to on your days off ?’ asked Annabel after Jane had finally fucked off home. Well, she’d left the reception desk to call in on Marilyn Kent before going home.

‘Oh this and that’ said Tim in that way he had of telling you everything and yet nothing at all. ‘Relaxing mostly. Watching some TV, catching up on the laundry’.

‘I thought you were going to call me to meet up?’

‘Well I was’ said Tim, feeling himself go red and a little hot. ‘I was. I seriously was. But I just seemed to run out of time’.

‘Okay I’ll forgive you’ she chided. ‘But next time we have the same day off I’m going to insist we do something’.

‘Yes, boss!’

‘Which reminds me’ said Annabel. ‘I don’t mean to pry or anything, Tim but do you have any family anywhere? You never speak of any’.

‘I have a brother’ said Tim. ‘But we’re not close and we don’t see each other’.

‘That’s a shame’.

‘Is it?’

‘Well he is your brother’.

‘You don’t know him like I do’.

‘Ah, like that is it?’

‘We’re very different people’ Tim revealed. ‘And I don’t know why family members who don’t get on are made to feel like they should keep on trying just because they carry the same blood’.

‘Oh I wasn’t suggesting that, I …’

‘ … oh I know you weren’t, don’t worry, I didn’t think that. I was just talking generally, you know’.

Annabel looked up and saw Marilyn Kent walking down the ground floor corridor towards reception. She was in her usual striped trouser suit with black low cut top underneath, five band radio in her hand in case she’s ‘needed’ urgently in another part of the hotel.. 

‘Oh here we go’ said Annabel. ‘Guess who’s on her way to us?’

‘I thought there was a chill in the air on this bright and beautiful August morning’.   

‘Good morning, boss’ said Tim.

‘Okay’ said Marilyn. ‘Now before anybody starts I’d just like you to know that I come down here for a chat and a break from all I’ve got on at the moment so please bare that in mind before you start firing questions at me’.

‘I only said good morning’ said Tim who couldn’t stand the stupid cow. Call herself a manager? That’s a bloody joke. ‘So if we were to ask you how the sale of the hotel to the new owners is going then you wouldn’t be able to answer us?’

Marilyn closed her eyes in apparent frustration. ‘You all know that the hotel group has been bought out’.

‘But Marilyn what we also need to know is the possible impact that might have on our jobs?’ said Annabel. ‘You know how I’m fixed. I’ve got Kyle to think about’.

‘Yes I do know that, Annabel’ said Marilyn, firmly.

‘So you can’t tell us anything about the impact on the business that the new owners will have?’ Tim tried. ‘Or even who those new owners are?’

‘The identity of the new owners has not been revealed even to me yet’ Marilyn replied testily. Then she went in for the kill. ‘But all I do know Tim is that none of you temporaries will be kept on beyond the end of the season’.

‘And could there be jobs for us elsewhere in the group?’

Tim didn’t get an answer to his follow up question because Marilyn’s attention was taken by one of her pets from the accounts office who started talking to her about last night’s episode of big brother which was clearly more important to Marilyn that answering her staff’s legitimate questions about the future of their employment.

‘How did she get that job?’ Tim ruminated, shaking his head.

‘That’s what everybody wonders’ said Annabel.

 

‘Apparently, sir, they heard Melanie Patterson’s screams of horror half a dozen houses away’ said DS Ollie Wright.

‘I’m not surprised’ said DI Rebecca Stockton. ‘I don’t like the woman but this is bloody sick’.

Melanie Patterson had received a DVD from the murderer of her son Leroy. It was a film of Leroy being ‘executed’ and she’d sent it on to Jeff. He and his team had just finished watching it.

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