Summer Evenings at the Seafront Hotel: Exclusive Short Story (3 page)

Cally and Valerie took the back stairs down to the kitchen.

‘In there,’ Valerie said, pointing to the storeroom.

‘Why don’t you come join us tonight?’

‘Oh, no,’ Valerie said, dismissing the idea with a wave of her hand. She straightened her black dress, which seemed a little tight on her. ‘I have to get back to work. But enjoy them.’

The women exchanged smiles, and the kitchen door swung open, and Anton appeared in his chef’s whites. Valerie startled.

‘There you are, Valerie. You vanished.’ He noticed Cally, and acknowledged her with a nod. His eyes were dark grey, and his gaze lingered on her a moment longer than was comfortable. It sent an unexpected shiver over her skin.

He spoke to Valerie quickly in French, but the meaning of the words was lost on Cally.

Valerie walked past him into the kitchen, whispering a hurried goodbye to Cally. Anton remained standing in the doorway.

When he finally spoke, his voice was softer. ‘Are you distracting my staff?’

‘I’m so sorry – yes, it was my fault.’

‘I’m joking,’ he said. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. ‘And yes, I do know about her sideline in petit four smuggling.’

Cally felt her cheeks colour. ‘You don’t mind?’

‘I like to think I have more important things to worry about.’

Cally breathed out, relieved.

‘But listen. I’m glad you came down, actually. I was hoping to talk to you.’

‘You were? Is it about the new tour group? They said they wanted to try out typical English dishes, so I guess …’

‘No. It’s not about work, actually.’

‘It isn’t?’

‘I was wondering. I’ve seen you every day for months now, and yet we hardly know each other.’

He glanced behind him into the kitchen, then met her gaze again.

‘I’d like to change that. Let me take you out for dinner. How’s Thursday?’

Cally stared at him, unsure what to reply. Was he actually asking her out? On a date? Surely not.

Anton was sophisticated, talented. In other words – totally out of her league.

‘Thursday’s your night off, right?’ he prompted her.

She opened her mouth to make an excuse, but stopped herself. Who was she saying no for – Ryan? Her dad? Ryan was long gone, and her dad had made his feelings clear that morning.

She looked at Anton and nodded.

‘Yes, I’m free then,’ she said. ‘And I’d like that.’

Liliana took an almond slice from the plate. She and Cally were sitting on the balcony of Room 14 in the early evening sunshine.

‘So I think the audition went well this morning,’ she said. ‘They’re looking for an Italian woman, it’s a speaking part – a woman who comes into the hospital looking for her friend who’s been in a car crash … anyway, most of the other actresses were English and they seemed really interested.’

‘When do you hear back?’

‘Tomorrow. If I got it … it would be amazing. Even though it’s just a small part, you never know – it might lead to other things.’

‘Anyway, what’s new with you?’ Liliana asked.

‘You’re not going to believe this, but I’m going on a date.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Yes. Dinner. Next Thursday.’ It gave her a buzz to say it out loud. A
date
. She hadn’t been on one of those since before Ryan, when she was still a teenager. And back then, it had been sharing Ben & Jerry’s at the multiplex, or drinking cider on the beach, not eating dinner at a proper restaurant. Somewhere she’d never normally be able to afford to go.

‘The other night, when you told me I should move on – well, I thought about it, and you’re right.’

‘I’m always right,’ Liliana laughed. ‘So who’s the lucky guy? Anyone I know?’

‘It’s Anton, from the kitchen.’

‘Anton?’ she echoed, wrinkling her nose.

‘Yes. Look – I know what you’re going—’

‘Are you sure? Is that such a good idea?

‘I know you don’t like him. And everyone’s entitled to their opinion. But I think he’s nice.’

‘You do,’ Liliana said, flatly.

‘Yes,’ Cally couldn’t help feeling disappointed by her friend’s response. She’d been looking forward to sharing the news with her. ‘You were the one who said I shouldn’t waste any more time thinking about Ryan.’

‘And I stand by that. You should move on, just not with him.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Clearly it’s something,’ Cally said, feeling irritated.

‘Look, go out with him if you want to. You’re a free woman. I’m sorry I said anything.’

‘Giovanni,’ Cally said, raising her voice slightly to get his attention. He was sitting in his usual spot by the bay window in reception, holding his phone. ‘The group from Whitby are coming in any minute, and they’re going to need help getting settled. You’re ready, right?’

‘Of course,’ he said, nonchalantly. ‘I’m always ready.’

‘YES!’ His shout rang out in the lobby and Cally turned to see him punching the air. ‘Level seven, Cally. I’ve done it.’

Cally took a deep breath and walked back to her desk, shaking her head.

She checked her mobile phone again for a reply from Liliana. She’d texted her the day before, and again this morning to ask if she had any news about the acting job, but hadn’t heard anything back. Since their conversation about Anton, Liliana hadn’t come down to the lobby at all, either.

Joe was walking down the stairs and stopped by the counter. ‘Everything OK?’ he asked. ‘You look …’ He paused, trying to make out her expression.

‘Frustrated?’ she said. ‘Like I’m treading the thin line between sanity and madness?’ She tilted her head in Giovanni’s direction, to explain.

Joe laughed. ‘I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up. I’ve perfected a new drink for you and Liliana to try. Strawberry mojito. Alison just showed me how to make it. Tastes incredible, if I do say so myself.’

Cally smiled. She’d love to stop for a cocktail break right now.

‘When are you next rendezvousing with Lili?’ he asked. ‘I have a bit of time before the Whitby pensioners come to drink the bar dry.’

‘Joe,’ she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. ‘You can’t talk about guests like that.’

‘I’m not kidding, I’ve never seen anyone drink like the over-seventies we get in here.’

She laughed, in spite of herself. She missed working alongside Joe.

‘So when would you like your mojitos?’

Cally hesitated. ‘Oh … I don’t know.’

Joe looked puzzled, waiting for her to elaborate.

‘It’s weird. Liliana’s gone sort of quiet.’

‘Quiet? Liliana?’

‘I know,’ she paused. Cally had been so excited about her date with Anton, which was coming up in just two days, but her friend’s silence had cast a shadow over it. ‘I think we might have fallen out.’

‘Oh,’ Joe said, surprised. ‘I’m sure she’ll get over it soon enough. The mojitos will be waiting when she does.’

‘Don’t hurry back tonight.’

‘Charming,’ Cally said, laughing.

It was Thursday night, and Cally’s dad was standing in the doorway of her bedroom as she laid out clothes on her bed, deciding what to wear for her date with Anton.

‘I mean stay out if you want to.’

‘Sure. Yes.’

Red or silver. Silver or Red
. Her gaze flicked between the two dresses laid out on top of her duvet.

‘That grisly Scandinavian drama is on the telly. That’ll keep me occupied.’

‘Really? You were terrified last time we watched it. Said I wasn’t ever to let you see it on your own.’

‘It’s a good sort of fear.’

‘If you say so. Red or silver?’ She held up the dresses she’d been wavering between.

‘Red,’ he said, pointing to it without hesitating.

‘Red it is.’ Cally shook her hair loose from her ponytail and pinned up a section at the front. The rest fell in dark waves around her shoulders.

‘You look just like your mother with your hair like that.’

Cally’s eyes met her dad’s in the mirror. Tears welled up. It had been over ten years since her mother died, but the sadness only faded. It didn’t go away.

‘You look beautiful,’ her dad added. ‘I hope he’s worth it.’

‘Will you try some oysters?’ Anton looked up from his menu. ‘They’re fantastic here.’

Cally glanced around the room, shifting slightly in her seat. She’d walked past the seafood restaurant a few times, but never imagined she’d actually eat there. With its glass tables, chandeliers and silver cutlery, it was a step up from Nando’s, that was for sure. Not the kind of place Ryan would ever have chosen. It felt special, as if she were in a film. The menu was unintelligible, and it was so quiet you could hear yourself breathe, but that was all part of the experience, wasn’t it?

‘Oysters would be nice, yes.’

He waved the waiter over and ordered for the two of them, requesting a bottle of champagne at the same time.

‘Champagne? Are you sure?’ Cally whispered over to top of her menu.

‘Of course. I’m out with you, and this is a meal I’m not cooking myself. That makes it a special occasion.’

She smiled. Liliana’s reaction had been unjustified – and with each word from Anton she was more convinced of it.

‘You look lovely tonight,’ Anton said.

‘Thank you.’ She smoothed a hand over the fabric of her dress, instinctively. It felt good to be out of her work uniform for once.

‘It’s a good colour on you.’

Cally was relieved when the waiter arrived and poured them both out glasses of champagne. She sipped from her glass.

Anton was watching her. Sitting back in his chair, in a pale blue shirt undone at the neck, he was the picture of easy confidence. She should probably ask him something about himself.

‘Whereabouts do you live?’ she managed, finally. ‘Close to the hotel?’

‘In North Bay. One of the new apartments there, close to the beach huts.’

‘Oh. The ones with the big glass windows, and lots of metal?’

‘Yes.’ He laughed. ‘I’m not sure you’d make an estate agent, but yes, that’s them.’

She knew the flats – everyone did. They were some of the most expensive properties in the city, sleek and elegant with a swimming pool and gym attached.

‘I’ve been there five years now. It suits me.’

‘That’s nice. Are your neighbours friendly?’ The moment the words were out, Cally regretted them. She sounded so unsophisticated.

He shrugged. ‘I don’t really get much time to socialise.’

‘What about you? Where do you live?’

‘With my dad, a couple of blocks from the hotel, on South Street.’

‘Are you saving up to buy somewhere?’

‘No. It’s … it’s complicated. But I enjoy being there.’

‘Right,’ Anton said. ‘Ah, here come our oysters.’ His face lit up at the sight of the waiter bringing over plates.

Cally watched as Anton manoeuvred his fork expertly around in the shell, freeing the oyster, and then swallowing it. She copied him and the oyster pinged back onto her plate.

‘What is it you really want to be doing?’

‘What do you mean?’ Cally asked, wrestling with another shell.

‘It seems like you’re more than a receptionist.’

‘Oh. I don’t know,’ she shook her head, ‘I quite enjoy it. And I need the money.’

‘Yes. But you don’t want to do it for ever, do you?’ Anton furrowed his brow. ‘Answering those endless questions the holidaymakers ask you? It must drive you mad.’

‘Sometimes,’ she laughed. ‘But usually I enjoy it. And I like the people I work with. Joe, Liliana. Valerie.’

Anton looked away, glancing over to the waiter and asking for a top-up of champagne.

Cally thought of Joe, and Liliana, the way a five-minute chat with either of them would brighten her day. It hadn’t been the same without Liliana’s company the past few days.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘But what about a career?’

‘Really, there’s nothing,’ she pushed away her doubts. ‘I like what I do.’

They fell quiet for a moment. ‘You? A Michelin star, I’m guessing?’

‘I wouldn’t say no,’ Anton said, with a smile. ‘Hopefully one day.’

Anton ordered them both a six-course tasting menu, and as they ate their way through it, the conversation started to flow more easily. She felt confident, grown-up. If only Ryan could see her now.

After the meal, Anton helped Cally into her jacket. ‘Can I walk you home?’

‘OK.’ They stepped out into the gentle sea breeze and walked together down the Esplanade.

‘You know, I always thought you were …’ She paused. ‘I didn’t think you’d ever want to go out with someone like me.’

‘Well, you were wrong,’ he said, calmly.

He stopped walking for a second and took her hand. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest.

As he brought her closer to him, she felt the breath go out of her. Was this really happening? OH GOD. She should do something, shouldn’t she?
Do I even know what to do any more?
She hadn’t kissed anyone but Ryan for years.

Anton pressed his mouth against hers. OK, she did remember how to do it, after all.

The next day, Cally put on lipstick for work, and blow-dried her hair rather than putting it up in her usual ponytail.

When she arrived, she busied herself with opening the post and answering emails and tried not to wonder if she’d run into Anton that day. Giovanni was sitting in his usual spot by the window, gaming on his phone and emitting the occasional whoop of excitement. She was actually growing to like his laid-back-to-the-extreme company; at least she knew where she was with him. Unlike Liliana, who seemed to have frozen her out.

Valerie was sitting near him today, laughing quietly at his jokes and sipping from her coffee. She had her feet up on the window seat and was looking out at the sea.

‘Giovanni,’ Cally said.

‘Yep,’ he looked up momentarily from his screen.

‘Do you know if Liliana got that role?’

‘Which, the hospital drama one?’

‘Yes.’

‘No. She didn’t.’

‘That’s a shame,’ Cally said. Liliana deserved a break. ‘Listen, Giovanni. Is she OK? It’s just I haven’t heard from her lately, and we normally meet up most days.’