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At the main castle door now, Ellie pulled across the heavy metal bolt, turned the latch. And there she was, on the threshold of her new life. Hugs, kisses and ‘Byes’. They were walking away, the rest of her family, back to Dad’s white work van. Waves and more goodbyes shouted from wound-down windows, a toot of the horn, and she watched with a lump in her throat and tears in her eyes as the van got smaller and smaller, until it was swallowed up by the vast tree-lined driveway.
Well, that was it. She was on her own now, and she had to make damned sure this new life and her teashop dream worked out.
6 (#ulink_6fef7a5f-a119-5a73-8ca2-c33fa81958d1)
Ellie
She was lying on the bed, having emptied one case, which filled the whole wardrobe before she had even opened the second. She had crammed her books onto two shelves that were set into an alcove in the wall, the overflow pile stacked under her bed. Hmn, storage was going to be an issue.
There was a knock on the door.
‘Come in,’ her voice sounded strange and echoey in this high-ceilinged room.
Joe popped his head around the door. ‘Only me! Just thought I’d see how you were settling in. Sorry I didn’t get chance to come a little earlier and meet your family. Deana said they’ve gone now. I got held up – bit of a problem down on the farm.’
So, there was a farm to deal with on the estate too; Joe must have a lot to keep up with here. He was hovering on the threshold. She suddenly felt awkward lying there on the bed, so sat up briskly, ‘Come on in.’
He walked to the armchair and perched on the edge of it as though he didn’t intend staying long. ‘Is the room okay? Do you have everything you need?’
‘It’s fine, thank you.’
‘I’m afraid you might find it a bit chilly. The central heating system’s a bit antiquated through the castle, seems to have a mind of its own. There is the coal fire. I’ll get James to fetch you up some more coal and logs if you’d like.’
He must have spotted the blank look on her face. She hadn’t a clue how to keep a fire going, she was worried she might end up setting the room alight – they had an electric flame-effect affair in the lounge at home in Heaton, and toasty hot radiators throughout.
‘Actually, I’ll bring you down the electric heater from my office – that’ll take any chill off.’
‘Oh no, it’s fine. You might need it.’
‘It’s okay. I’m hardened to the cold by now. No, I’ll bring it across, honestly by the morning you’ll be glad of it.’
‘Okay, then, thank you.’
‘Well, we’ll have a proper meeting tomorrow, talk about the tearooms, any questions you might have, information you might need, all that kind of stuff. For now, I’ll let you settle in. Oh, and if you want to cook for yourself just go ahead and use the kitchen in the tearooms. And if you think of anything else, or you need anything, my rooms are on the floor above you, this wing. Just go one more flight up the staircase and knock on my door. It’s got a sign saying Keep Out on it.’
She laughed, ‘That sounds very welcoming!’
‘Oh yes,’ he grinned. (He had a lovely smile, which made his eyes sparkle, she mused.) ‘Well, that’s just for the tourist season, they tend to wander off the recommended route in the guide book and get everywhere, and think they can barge in wherever they like just because they’ve paid a fiver to get in! You might think about getting a sign for your door before the weekend, and don’t forget to keep it locked once we’re open. Other times it’s fine, you can trust the staff here with your life, they’re a great bunch, but the tourists …’ He shook his head, but was still smiling.
He seemed much more friendly now they were out of interview mode, Ellie noted. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ She smiled back.
He stood up, as though he were about to leave.
‘Oh, Joe, is there a TV point or anything?’
‘There is an aerial socket in the corner here.’ He pointed behind the small table, where Deana had left the kettle and cups. ‘Good luck with reception, though. It’s a bit hitty-missy.’
Sounds like the bloody radiators, she thought. ‘Okay, well, I’ll give it a go and see how I get on.’ What the hell would there be to do here of an evening if there was no telly? Well, at least she had her iPod and laptop. There was always iPlayer. And then another thought dawned on her, ‘Any wi-fi?’ Please, please.
‘Now, there you are in luck. But only because you’re in this wing, Lord Henry doesn’t have a computer his side of the castle, but I’m pretty sure the wi-fi router from my room will connect through down to here. Try it now and we’ll see.’
She took up her laptop case and started the computer up. As she tried to get into the internet there, to her delight, was the wi-fi symbol, and a message asking her for a password. Joe spotted it and then his cheeks seemed to colour. He said nothing for a second or two, just gave her a funny look.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘You need a password.’
‘Okay, and?’
He pulled a face, ‘Okay … it’s Batman.’
She stifled a giggle.
His brown eyes crinkled with an embarrassed smile. ‘Well, don’t you like Batman? Those films are great.’
In fact, she had liked the films, when she was about twelve. But she just hadn’t expected a superhero crush from him and not at thirty, or whatever age he was. But it made her smile widen, shifting her view of him from the nice, slightly scary and far-too-intelligent boss as per the interviews, to someone far more human. As she shrugged her shoulders with a grin, he ducked for the door. ‘Okay, well, I’ll fetch that heater for you.’
Later that evening, she lay in bed, with her zebra-print onesie on and thick socks. It was bloody freezing in that room – the radiators must go off at night. If she got out of bed, she could put on the electric heater that Joe had brought down for her. But she didn’t fancy getting out at all, the cold air would blast her the minute she lifted that duvet, so she just snuck further down under the quilt, listening to the lonely sound of an owl hooting. There had been a weird cry outside earlier, too, probably a fox or something. It was high-pitched like a baby’s wail. Ooh, she hoped the castle wasn’t haunted – don’t be daft, she chided herself, what a load of old nonsense. Get to sleep, Ells-bells. Jason’s nickname for her floated around in her head. You’ve got a big day ahead.
She lay there thinking, finding it hard to settle. It was nice that Joe had given up his heater for her. She liked him. He actually seemed quite down to earth and approachable, was probably very clever and had a nice smile. She remembered the Batman thing and grinned in the dark. As she thought of him, a warm glow flooded her. It surprised her. It was the first time she had felt that in an absolute age. Oh well, there’d be nothing in it, of course: a) there was no way she was going anywhere near men or relationships for the foreseeable future, and b) he was her landlord and they’d be working together – and getting involved in the workplace was never a good idea, a total no-no in her book. Gemma at work had done the boss thing at her previous workplace – big mistake – ended up having to give up her job in the end, all got far too messy. And the ‘man’ thing, well, she didn’t want to dwell on that. Onwards and upwards, or as bloody far away from all that relationship stuff as possible. Still, a little glow in Joe’s presence might be allowable. Just in terms of eye candy, that was all. But what she really had to concentrate on was getting the teashop venture up and running and making a success of it.
There was just so much to organise: clean the kitchen from top to bottom – main priority tomorrow – then meet up with Joe and go through everything. She’d need to order food in and ingredients, find the local suppliers, check if there was crockery and cutlery to use, buy those oil-cloths she fancied and find some posy vases and a florist to supply flowers, something cheap to cheer up the tearooms, bake like a mad thing, menus – bloody hell, yes, she’d need menus – she’d have to draft something on her laptop, meet the waitressing staff, the list droned on in her fractious mind. And she only had four days in which to do it! Tomorrow was Monday. They opened to the public on Friday at ten o’clock, Good Friday. It’d be Easter weekend and Go, Go, Go! Aaagh! Had she bitten off so much more than she could chew?
She finally got off to sleep in the early hours, to the sounds of the owl hooting away like her night watchman, rain tapping on the glass and the drumming of her heart.
7 (#ulink_a9a9afba-9ef1-58fa-a018-369a84063cbb)
Ellie
She was up a ladder, yellow rubber gloves on, washing down the tiled walls that were grimed with a layer of cooking grease. She’d found an old-fashioned portable radio that had been left on a shelf and had tuned in to Radio 1, and set herself up with a large bucket of steaming water and disinfectant, some all-purpose cloths, a mop, and currently Ellie Goulding as background music.
The check list of to dos was still running through her mind. She needed to plan her menu ASAP. She’d keep it simple for now – test the waters, see what sold, make homemade soups, jacket potatoes, paninis and sandwiches, a selection of her yummiest cakes, scones, yes, and maybe some cookies. Exactly when she was going to actually bake all these before Friday she wasn’t quite sure, but as her baking needed to be fresh she could envisage a very long day and night on Thursday.
She scrubbed away, humming, taking a scourer to the particularly gungey bits. Her mind was back on the food order. What quantities would she need? Bloody hell, she didn’t have a clue. Twenty jacket potatoes, thirty, fifty? Paninis – twelve, thirty-six, seventy-two? She may as well put the numbers in a hat and do a lucky dip. She suddenly felt extremely naïve and unprepared, and had a little wobble on her ladder. Right, focus. She’d check how often the suppliers delivered – see if it was just the weekend she was catering for, and she could ring her friend Kirsty at the café. She’d surely have some idea.
She could speak with Joe, but she didn’t warm to the latter idea, not wanting to appear inept before she even got started. She didn’t want him to regret his decision to back her.
One wall scrubbed and finished, Ellie was on tiptoes by the window, trying to get a signal on her mobile phone.
‘Hi there, Kirsty.’
‘Ellie, is that you? Hi, how’s it all going out in the sticks? Are you up and running yet?’
‘Friday’s D-Day. Look, are you busy? I just need a bit of advice.’
‘No, I’m okay for a sec. My customers are all served. Fire away.’
‘It’s the ordering – likely numbers I’m catering for, what to buy in? I haven’t a flippin’ clue. I can’t believe I’m such a numpty.’ She could hear her mother’s warning tones, I told you so, running in her ears.
‘Ok-ay,’ even Kirsty sounded as though she wondered what the hell Ellie had taken on. ‘Right, well, look you’ve got to get an idea of numbers of customers to start. Decide on your menu, and then I can help with what to order. But yeah, numbers, bums on seats … Did you get any paperwork or accounts when you applied? Can you get figures now?’
‘Umn, well I have the accounts. The Easter figures looked pretty good, but how the hell do you convert pounds profit into how many bloody jacket potatoes and cakes sold?’
‘Hmn, right. Well, they must take a record of visitors to the castle, surely? If I were you, I’d ask if they have some idea how many people tend to call in at the tearooms. It’s worth a try, and should give you some indication at least.’
‘Yeah, I suppose so.’
‘And buy in stuff that won’t spoil too quickly or can freeze. You can even freeze some of the cakes if need be, as soon as you’ve baked them, so they’re nice and fresh. Take them out as you need.’
‘Okay, that sounds a good idea.’
‘Oh, hang on … Yes, sorry, a latte … and a cappuccino, no problems. If you just take a seat I’ll bring them over … Ellie, sorry, I’m going to have to go. Ring me back in a while, and try and get that info.’
‘Will do, thanks.’ Right, she needed to have a word with Joe, or maybe Deana. It looked like Deana took the admissions for the castle; her office was right on the main gate. Ellie was seeing Joe shortly anyhow, but how could she confess to not having a clue about the ordering? Oh well, she’d scrub the next kitchen wall, that’d be two out of the four done, and then make herself a cup of tea. She’d take five minutes time out to think carefully, and write down a list of everything she needed to ask Joe, to get herself organised. Ooh, and she’d have a look and see what kind of freezer and fridge storage they had. She’d noticed a couple of big chest freezers out in the corridor as well as the one in the kitchen; they must be to do with the tearooms.
She went out to the hallway. Jeez! They hardly needed freezers out here, it was bitterly cold. She opened the lid of one of them. Jesus Christ! What the hell was that? She dropped the lid down in shock, pinching her finger in the seal. ‘Shit!’ Then raised it slowly again, just a few centimetres, peering in tentatively. Well, that certainly wasn’t loaves of bread or spare milk!
Antlers – it was friggin’ antlers! Attached to fur and a head. Some poor deer, by the looks of it, its head sealed in a clear plastic bag. What the hell? It made her feel sick. Bambi’s bloody dad was stuck in her freezer. What was with this place and deer? Ice Age Bambi on steroids in the tearooms and now this. At least it wasn’t a human body, she mused. Well, that was certainly going on Joe’s list for the one o’clock meeting: freezer space, why the hell is there a beheaded deer in what I presume is one of the tearoom freezers, and please can it be removed to make way for my paninis and spare milk? Back to the task in hand. The disinfectant was beginning to smart her eyes by the end of the third wall. She was sure she’d reek of it. She was going to mop the lino floors with some bleach next, and then she’d have another cup of tea and add some more to that list.
Deana popped her head around the door. ‘Hi, Ellie, how’s it all going?’
‘Not bad thanks. I’m on a major cleaning session.’ She clambered down off her ladder, happy to have a short break. Ellie mentioned the visitor records. It was a relief to find they did take that information, and Deana promised to get it ready for her in time for her meeting with Joe. One hurdle over at least. But she had a feeling there were going to be plenty more.
‘Have you got time for a quick cuppa?’ Ellie offered.
‘Only if you have, pet. Looks like you’ve got a lot on.’
‘Well, five minutes won’t hurt, and I was ready for a cup anyhow. I’m parched and my tongue tastes of disinfectant.’
‘Okay, then. Thank you.’
Ellie popped the kettle on and set out a teapot for the brew.
‘Deana, do they have any strange habits here I should know about?’ She was still thinking about Bambi’s dad out in the corridor.
‘Oh, yes, for sure. Lord Henry’s often a little quirky, but are there any particular ones you’re interested in?’ Deana had a wry grin on her face.
‘The freezer, that’s all. There’s something unusual in there.’
‘Oh God! He’s not saving stuff for the bloody taxidermist again, is he? What’s he got in there this time?’
Ellie wasn’t even sure what a taxidermist was – not someone who gave you a lift anyhow, but she had a feeling Deana knew exactly what was going on.
‘Animal?’
‘Yep.’
‘Which?’
‘Deer. A stag I think.’
‘Ah, it’ll be for stuffing and wall-mounting, not my kind of thing. But each to their own. It’s a country, hunting thing. But I’ve told him before not to use the bloody tearoom freezers. It probably didn’t fit in his own, that’s all.’
Hunting trophies. Collecting animal heads. That was just weird. Country life was certainly odd!
They had a quick cup of tea and a nice chat, Deana mentioning some of the other castle workers who she might meet in the coming days. Then she said she’d better be getting on, and leave Ellie in peace.
‘Just give me a shout if you need anything, though. Ring a nine for the office.’
‘Okay, thanks, Deana. Will do.’
Then Ellie set herself away with the mop and bucket once more.
It was five to one, and she realised she hadn’t had any lunch and her whole body was aching. She still had the two ovens to clean, the microwave, and then all the working surfaces needed a thorough going-over with antibacterial spray. But it’d have to wait till later in the afternoon now. She needed to see Joe – armed with her million and one questions. She peeled off her rubber gloves, already with a sticky leak in the right index fingertip, and set off across the courtyard, up the stairs, past her own room and up again.
Standing before the Private Keep Out sign, it dawned on her, unfortunately just after she had knocked, that she was wearing an old tracksuit sporting bleach marks and her hair was scraped back in a ponytail. Damn.
His ‘Come in’ was formal. He was on the phone as she went in, so she took the seat opposite him quietly and looked around the room, pretending not to be listening in. It was more modern than Lord Henry’s office, the desk more like something from Ikea than the Georgian period. The room was tidy, there was a small grey-and-brown tartan sofa set to one side, the desk with in-tray, laptop, phone and pen, his black leather chair, and another comfy black chair where she sat down. The shelves on the back wall held a neat selection of books: Business Management, Stately and Country Homes, a few crime thrillers, mountaineering, skiing, no Batman annuals that she could see – hah! There was a door ajar off to another room. She wondered if he had a suite, and if that might lead to his private quarters.
His voice raised. She turned her focus back to him. He looked rather stern. ‘What do you mean you can’t come until Friday? That’s too late. We’re open then. The contract clearly states you would be here to do the work on the Wednesday.’ He listened a while, raising his eyebrows in frustration at Ellie as a tinny voice rattled on. Then Joe stated, calmly but with a don’t-mess-with-me tone, ‘Look, I don’t care what your issues are at that end, I need the service I have paid you for and I need it by Wednesday afternoon at the latest. Ring me back when you’ve sorted it out.’
He switched off the phone, looking right at Ellie, ‘Incompetent buggers.’
Ellie broke into a nervous smile. She wondered if she might be placed in that category very swiftly, especially when he realised she didn’t have a clue about how much food to order in.
‘Right, sorry, we’ve a lot to go over, haven’t we?’ Luckily his grumpy mood had dissipated, and he seemed fairly patient with her as she ran though her long list of queries. He had questions to ask her too: yes, she had organised the public liability insurance, costing her an arm and a leg, yes, she’d contacted the two existing waitresses, who were coming in tomorrow afternoon to make themselves known to her, and to chat about their role.
He brought out two sheets of A4. ‘The admissions figures for the Easter weekend last year. Deana said you wanted them?’ His last comment came out as a question.
She gulped back a little knot in her throat; did she dare explain her ordering dilemma? But surely it was better to be honest now than cock up the whole launch weekend by either over- or under-ordering.
He was gazing intently at her, as if he was waiting for her to say something. Eventually he spoke first, ‘And you’ve got the phone number for Breakers, the suppliers, haven’t you?’
‘Yes,’ her voice was timid, on the brink of her revelation that she was an incompetent fraud.
His dark eyes fixed hers.
‘Okay,’ she started tentatively, ‘I have a bit of a confession, I’m really not sure what quantities to order in.’ So there it was, her lack of catering experience out in the open. He’d probably rue his decision now; they’d have a dreadful Easter, the food would run out and he’d be left handling numerous complaints … She could see it all now. He’d have to cancel her contract and that’d be it.
‘I see.’ He ran his fingers through his dark floppy fringe and let out a slow sigh, a look of concern crossing his brow. ‘Ellie, I thought you had experience in catering? You’d certainly led us to believe that in the interview.’ He paused, while she sat feeling more and more uncomfortable. ‘Well, those figures will tell you who came into the castle but not who ate at the tearooms or what they ate. I’m afraid I don’t have the details of the previous tenant’s ordering.’ He held her gaze, then continued, ‘We really need the tearooms to run well over Easter. It’s the reputation of the castle that’s at stake.’
‘I know.’ Her voice was small. She felt terrible.
‘Ellie, I’ve gone out on a limb here to secure you the tearooms’ lease.’ He was frowning.
Okay, well there was no need to be quite so miserable about it. She was new to all this and had never pretended to be Jamie Oliver or anything. ‘I was only asking for a bit of advice.’
He said nothing, just looked at her.
