Summer at the Heartbreak Cafe: Summer Sweet Romance (Lakeview Contemporary Romance Book 0) (13 page)

A
few days later
, for the first time in an age, the hotel was full of people, all talking and laughing with the kind of relief that comes after intense periods of feeling. It had seemed fitting to Elle and Penny that Anna’s final farewell should be held here, after the church burial service.

The whole Mulberry Bay community had turned out, and they were moving in small, dark swathed circles, catching up on old times. It seemed to Elle almost like a duller reproduction of older celebrations the hotel had seen over the years.

She was glad to finally have a moment where she didn’t need to keep bravely smiling and nodding as people gave their sympathies. Since coming home, she hadn’t fallen apart again, and she had kept her composure through the hardest parts of the funeral arrangements and service. Her father, though, had showed surprising emotion (for him) when she arrived, and not for the first time she worried about how he would realistically cope once all of this was over and normal life, as such, resumed. She’d spoken a little to him about what had happened that first night of her arrival, when Penny had returned home to her little cottage in the town.

‘I hate to ask, but what exactly happened?’ she’d ventured. ‘Mum was in good health – or so I thought. A heart attack seems a bit out of the blue.’

As always, Ned averted his eyes from his daughter’s gaze. ‘She was healthy enough as far as I know. There were little things of course. There always are as you get older. Just part of life.’

Elle narrowed her eyes as her father stopped talking. ‘I’m sensing a but . . .’

‘Well, yes. Your mother was dealing with some . . . anxiety.’

‘Anxiety?’ Elle frowned. She couldn’t imagine Anna as an anxious, stressed person. These things were more Penny’s domain. ‘About what? What was she stressed about? Anxious about?’

‘There were some money problems,’ Ned said frankly without elaborating.

‘With the hotel?’ Elle hated to sound like she was pressing, but that was the way you had to be with Ned, and she needed some answers. And it seemed as if the state of the property was the big elephant in the room since her return. She’d noticed some things on arrival about the interior, over and above the usual wear and tear. The reception area was looking very tired – the wooden floors hadn’t been polished in ages and really needed to be refinished, the moulding around the door frames was cracked in places, and the staircase leading to the second floor was sagging.

She’d noticed in particular the tea rooms, a once beautiful space that Elle and Penny had spent so much time in as children, having tea parties and acting out scenes from Anne of Green Gables – Penny had been Diana to her Anne of course. Now, the pale mint wallpaper was peeling from the walls, the fireplace lay dark and dusty, and all of the furniture, looked worn and tatty. It was no longer the cosy inviting space that Elle had once known.

Ned shrugged; it was neither a yes or a no. Elle could feel her frustration building. As an architect, she liked it when she had all of the information she needed in order to form an opinion, or a design strategy. She hated it when clients were evasive, especially when she was looking to help them and keep their best interests at heart.

As devastated as she felt over the death of her wonderful mother, the discovery that their family home and Anna’s great passion seemed to also be suffering a horrible and painful death by deterioration, troubled Elle. And another part of her – the high performing business woman in her – wanted to know exactly why that was the case. And worse, if this ‘stress’ had contributed to her mother’s demise.

She could see Ned now, sitting at a table nodding dumbly as the Italian owner of the fish and chip shop in town spoke to him. Fondly nicknamed ‘Johnny Chips’ by everyone in Mulberry Bay for as long as Elle could remember, she wasn’t even sure what the man’s real name was. His younger brother Luca, who ran the Bay’s ice-cream parlour Scoops, had fortunately for him, managed to keep his given Italian name.

Penny came up beside her. ‘I can’t wait for today to be over,’ she sighed.

‘Me neither,’ Elle replied. ‘It doesn’t seem real. I feel like it’s going to take so long to sink in. I keep thinking, Oh, I must tell Mum about this . . . or she’d really enjoy hearing that.’

‘I know . . .’ Penny’s voice broke and she looked like she might cry again. ‘She did love a big party though. It’s the biggest crowd this place has seen in years.’

Elle bit her lip. It wasn’t exactly the time or the place but she felt she needed to ask, if for no other reason than to keep her sister from breaking down again. ‘Do you know anything?’ she asked, indicating the tea room’s worn wallpaper, ‘about . . . how this place is doing?’

Penny looked a bit taken aback. ‘Not much about the financial stuff to be honest. We weren’t doing well though, anyone can see that. The upkeep alone was crippling, and the dogs on the street know the place needs an overhaul.’ She sniffed. ‘Let’s talk about all that later OK? Today is about Mum.’

She seemed annoyed and Elle felt duly chagrined for bringing the matter up but it was just how her brain worked, had always worked. In times of emotion, always try to look for equilibrium by seeking out the practical.

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘It’s just that so many people are talking about Mum and the hotel, and what it means to them. All those life-defining moments, right here.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s hard to believe it’s not doing well.’

‘Yes, this place – our home – means something to people,’ Penny said proudly. ‘It’s beautiful and I know you might not think so, but it’s also something even more than that. It represents something to this community, milestones in people’s lives.’

‘I do know that,’ said Elle, annoyed at herself for raising hackles when it really wasn’t her intention.

‘Oh, there’s Rob,’ Penny said suddenly, perhaps to change the subject or just to needle her. She couldn’t tell. Either way, simply the sound of the name had an unnerving effect. Even after all this time.

All those years ago she’d tearfully said goodbye to Rob Callahan at the bus stop outside Pebbles Café on Main Street, promising to return for good when she’d finished college in Dublin. But she hadn’t. She’d written him a letter instead, begging him to leave and move to the city too.

But Rob wouldn’t go. He had told Elle that he wouldn’t be the same man if he left the small town where his heart and family belonged. And this sense of loyalty appeared to have worked for him, Elle realised, studying him now. He did look much the same man as he had all those years ago; broader across the shoulders, creased around the eyes, skin darkened from time spent outdoors, but the same Rob. Same dark twinkling eyes, same dimple on his left cheek. She wondered if her teenage self was also still visible, if despite the years he could look at her now and see the girl he had once loved.

Elle mentally slapped herself. It was the whole weight of the day making her think such maudlin thoughts. It had been a teenage fling: that was all. Rob Callahan probably had a wife now and a tribe of kids. She had stubbornly refused to ask after him after they broke up, and over the years had purposely tuned out if her mother ever mentioned him.

‘He’s coming over,’ said Penny.

Elle flushed despite herself. ‘Yes, I can see that, thank you.’

Rob didn’t bother with platitudes, but moved in smoothly to kiss Elle’s cheek. She got a second of his sharp, woody smell, before he stepped back and turned to Penny.

‘Holding up?’ he asked softly, squeezing her arm.

Her sister nodded wordlessly, overcome by fresh emotion.

‘Your mother was a legend,’ he said. ‘My Friday nights won’t be the same without her.’

‘What Friday nights?’ asked Elle, surprised.

‘Oh, I always came up on a Friday night, for Anna’s famous roast chicken and mash spuds. Kept up with all the news,’ he added, and looked at Elle in a way that let her know that she had been part of this ‘news’ now and again.

‘We’ve had some great times over dinner, haven’t we?’ whispered Penny, her eyes shining. ‘I know Mum loved seeing you too, enjoyed you teasing her.’

Rob gave a wistful smile and as he and Penny continued to reminisce, Elle felt suddenly that she had missed out on something precious, something that wasn’t replaceable. She felt bereft, at the whole day, but also at how everyone was treating her like a stranger, almost. At the graveyard, old school friends and past acquaintances had come up to give their condolences, and while they all hugged and exchanged memories with Penny, they simply nodded and formally shook hands with Elle, as if she was an outsider. Then again, she supposed she was.

‘. . . repairs,’ Penny was saying and Elle guessed she must be talking to Rob about something concerning the hotel. His family’s construction business had been one of the reasons he’d decided to remain in town, and as far as she knew he was still in the same line of work. ‘Would be great to get your opinion.’

‘Don’t worry about that, Penny,’ A miffed Elle found herself saying, ‘I know someone eminently qualified to drag this place into the right century.’

Though she’d intended for this to sound reassuring, she realised that it actually sounded patronising, and feeling again like a fish out of water, Elle turned and left Penny and Rob to their silly chat about times they’d had in this small little town, while she was off doing something that was actually important.

T
he next morning
, Elle badly needed coffee. It was the only thing that would truly ready her for the trials of the day. She’d had a terrible sleep, kept awake by the creaks of the building and the old rickety bed, not to mention thoughts of what she’d said to Rob and Penny. She kept seeing her sister’s crushed expression and Rob’s coldly amused one as she’d tumbled into a dream-ridden, restless sleep.

Coffee was one of Elle’s long-held grumbles about the hotel: there was no modern Italian coffee machine, just an old sputtering coffee urn on the end of the breakfast buffet table. What few guests there were, today sat by the windows overlooking the sea, which the wind was whipping into a fury. Despite being springtime in Mulberry Bay, it definitely wasn’t yet beach or swimming weather.

Elle despaired of the breakfast options, too. Good, hearty Irish fried fare of bacon, eggs and black pudding, fine in its own way, and locally sourced, but no vegetarian options, no dairy or gluten free, nothing at all for the health conscious.

Honestly, it was like perusing a menu from the seventies. An artefact. She slapped together a quick bacon sandwich and took it with her coffee outside, in spite of the threatening weather. She didn’t want to sit in there like a guest. There was no sign of Penny or her father. She had barely seen Ned since the funeral. He was holing away somewhere, listening to his precious music, no doubt, and hiding from his feelings.

But Penny was outside, pinning sheets to the washing line that stretched along the residential side of the building, close to the family’s quarters. Another sore point for Elle: Anna had insisted on line-drying laundry, where possible, to ‘give it that sun-kissed, fresh smell’. All well and good, thought Elle, when there was actually sun. Not to mention the extra labour.

The sheets were blinding in the pre-storm glare and Penny was struggling against the wind to hang them. Elle put her coffee down and went to help her.

‘Sleep OK?’ her sister asked.

‘Not too well, actually. You know yourself.’

‘Yes, I was up half the night too, worrying. Mostly about how I’d do the morning routine without Mum.’

‘What about Linda and Clive?’ Elle asked, referring to the long-time staff. ‘Didn’t they help?’

Penny looked at her strangely. ‘We had to let them go a couple of years back, Elle. There’s only really Molly left in the kitchen now, and only part-time. Dad does the gardens, when he remembers and Mum did the cleaning, manned the bar, made the lunches and afternoon-teas, welcomed people at reception . . . I actually don’t know how she did it, when I list it out like that. Of course, I helped with all the behind the scenes stuff . . . but I just don’t have the same way with people that she had.’

Elle was too shocked to contradict her and make her feel better. ‘But Mum never said, she never told me that things were that bad. So she was basically running this place single-handedly?’

Penny’s cheeks reddened. ‘Mum loved the hotel, Elle. She knew that you’d just tell her to give it up if it wasn’t making money. But this place was her whole world. It wasn’t really about money.’

‘Oh come on, everything’s about money, in the end,’ Elle retorted, drily and then added almost to herself. ‘It’s no wonder she had a heart attack, carrying that load.’

‘Well, I didn’t see you here offering a hand,’ Penny shot back, flinging down a sheet.

‘I didn’t know she was under that kind of pressure, did I?’

Suddenly they heard a sound from behind. ‘When you’re finished . . .’ Ned muttered. ‘Family business inside.’

It was the most they’d heard their father say since the funeral, and the sisters stared at each other for a second, both still flushed with anger before they hurriedly hung the rest of the sheets and followed him inside.

T
he three sat
at one of the now-deserted dining-room tables.

Guests typically left the hotel after breakfast to scour the shops down town, walk the beach, or drive out to hike the sugarloaf. Although none of those activities seemed very attractive today, thought Elle, looking out again at the sky, which had darkened to an ominous deep grey.

The dining room seemed like the right place for this kind of conversation, which Elle guessed would be about what needed to happen to the hotel from here on. This room was superbly impressive, even in its decline. The cream walls contrasted with the dark wood furnishings and the carpet was red and gold, the ceilings high and mouldings still intact. A bar ran the length of the room, bottles glistening behind it, and champagne glasses that had toasted so many occasions hung gleaming like icicles. The circular and turreted room that Elle had always loved was off to the side: originally it had been built as a reading room from when the hotel was still a private residence, in the late 1800s. All in all, it was a beautiful room, even Elle could admit that.