Foxden Hotel (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 5) by Madalyn Morgan (ebook reader ink txt) 📕

his arm, he said, ‘If you are, there are plenty of maintenance jobs I can give you to do.’ Bess ripped a sheet of notepaper from the jotting pad, screwed it into a ball and lobbed it at him. As Frank bent down to help Nancy into her coat the paper ball bounced off his chest onto Nancy’s head, making her giggle. ‘That’s no way to treat your guests.’

‘You are not a guest.’

‘No, but Nancy is.’

‘Take Uncle Frank away before I throw something heavy at him,’ Bess said, winking at Nancy. She watched the little girl pull Frank, who pretended to resist, across reception to where Bess’s mother stood talking to the chef. With a grand gesture of his arms, Chef took her mother’s coat from Frank and like a matador swirled it in the air as if it was a capote. Then, with a deep bow, he held it for her while she slipped one arm at a time down each sleeve. Smiling like the proverbial cat who got the cream, Lily Dudley waved goodbye to Bess - and a second later she had gone. Chef, stamping his feet and clicking his fingers like a flamenco dancer, threw back his head and, after a dramatic bow to Jack and Bess, returned the kitchen.

‘Alfredo’s got a real way with him, hasn’t he Mrs Donnelly?’ Jack said, smiling with admiration.

‘He certainly has,’ Bess said. ‘Watching that performance, you’d think he really was Alfredo from Madrid, not Alfred from Oldham.’

Bess yawned. It had been a long day. A disconcerting day in many ways. She laughed thinking about her mother and the chef. What a pair of old ducks. She didn’t know who was the most comical. She was delighted that the hotel was at last holding its own. She had told Frank when Lord and Lady Foxden had insisted on standing guarantor for them, that if they hadn’t begun to break even by the end of the first year, she was not prepared to borrow any more money using the Foxden name, and they would have to think of another way to earn a living.

Bess smiled. They had not only broken even, they had begun to make a profit. A small one, but apart from owing the bank a fortune they were at last in the black, as Frank called it.

Bess yawned again. She really ought to go to bed if she was going to be up early in the morning to take Ena into Lowarth. Bess worried about Ena and the work she did. She worried about Katherine Hawksley too. To think that poor child’s mother might only have been a name on her birth certificate. Worse still, she may have been a Nazi sympathiser who was paid to nurse Katherine while she was a baby. Then, when Gerald Hawksley deemed his daughter old enough, the woman left leaving Katherine thinking her mummy had died. What a cruel man Gerald Hawksley was.

Bess closed her mind to all thoughts of Katherine Hawksley’s evil father, but she wasn’t able to shake off the sick feeling of guilt she had in the pit of her stomach when she thought about her sister Ena going to Cumberland to investigate links between the Pemberton family and the Fascists Association. If Ena gets into trouble, is hurt in any way, it would be her fault for telling her about Katherine Hawksley.

Being the oldest sister Bess had always felt responsible for her siblings. Except for Tom - he was older anyway. She leaned her head on the side of the bed and thought about her handsome older brother. She hadn’t seen him, or his wife, Annabel, since before Christmas. Smiling to herself, Bess yawned again. She didn’t usually wait up for Frank when he was working late, but tonight was different. Was it because she was comfortable relaxing on the floor in front of the fire, or was it that she loved watching the little girl she was looking after, while she slept?

Bess heard the door open and a pale shaft of light fanned across the room. ‘What are you doing still up?’ Frank whispered.

‘Waiting for you.’

Frank knelt down beside Bess and looked at the sleeping child. ‘She is lovely, isn’t she?’ Bess made a soft caring sound. Frank smoothed a stray curl at the side of Bess’s head, and whispered, ‘You remember what you promised?’ Bess nodded and leaned against her husband, her head resting on his shoulder. ‘Come on then,’ Frank said, gently easing Bess away from him and standing up. He put out his hand, Bess took it and he pulled her to her feet. ‘Time to get some sleep.’

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Bess flung her arm out of bed, walked her fingers along the top of the bedside table, found the copper alarm clock and hit the bell. ‘Your turn to go down early, Frank,’ she mumbled, without opening her eyes. ‘And don’t wake Nancy when you go through the sitting room, she was late going to sleep last night.’ With no reaction from her husband, Bess turned over. ‘Frank?’ She opened her eyes and to her delight he wasn’t there. ‘Good-o!’ she said aloud, and cuddling his pillow went back to sleep.

‘Bess? Time go get up, love. I’ve put a cup of tea on the side for you,’ Frank said, drawing back the curtains.

Bess opened her eyes. ‘Is Nancy awake?’

‘She certainly is. Our little guest was perched on her bed, fully dressed, when I crept through the sitting room at six o’clock. She nearly gave me a heart attack. I got as far as the door, quietly turned the knob, and a little voice, all matter of fact, said, “Is it time to collect the eggs yet Uncle Frank?”’

‘And you said, yes.’

‘What else could I say? I’d already told her they had to be collected first thing in the morning.’

Bess laughed. ‘Ena