Page 29 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

He rubbed his stomach. The gurgling had stopped and things appeared to have settled down. Bill decided to venture downstairs and eat a slice of toast. He glanced at his watch; breakfast was still being served and if he hurried, he would just make it.

It was also an opportunity to have a look at the newcomer.

* * *

Hattie layin the bath in Jo’s house, luxuriating in deep warm water, softly scented with oils from a selection in the bathroom cabinet. She hadn’t slept very well and her stomach, which was normally capable of digesting whatever she put into it, gurgled threateningly. Biddu’s supper had been delicious but Hattie wondered if the seasoning had been too strong and had the dish, which had travelled from Biddu’s Marland restaurant, been reheated more than once? Whatever was causing the upset had delayed Hattie’s day and she’d instructed the reception staff to expect her a little later than normal that morning.

Hattie closed her eyes.

She’d had a conversation with Jo and was delighted to hear that for the time being, Jo had put the business with Pete to one side and was gearing herself up to put things in motion at Flatterley Manor. It was music to Hattie’s ears for she couldn’t bear to think of Jo so upset, and if work was a way of getting through the pain of parting, then Hattie applauded her friend. Men were so unpredictable, Hattie thought as she fiddled with the bath tap, wrapping her toes around the cool metal to trickle hot water into her bath. Pete was an absolute dick if he thought that this woman, Saint Amanda, was the woman of his dreams. In Hattie’s opinion, the relationship was a fantasy which would come crashing down in time and she hoped that Jo wouldn’t be picking up Pete’s pieces. Thank goodness she had a new project and wasn’t here at Boomerville, moping around, wondering where Pete was and what he was up to.

She closed her eyes and remembered Hugo. This time last year they’d been in the Mediterranean, eating tapas and sipping wine on the balcony of their suite on the Monarch of the Waves, as the ship sailed through gentle waters. They’d spent a lot of time in their suite on that cruise and Hattie smiled as she thought of the old boy’s bedroom energy. At least his last days were happy and he’d spend eternity with a smile that would light his heavens and beyond.

How she missed that lovely man.

Hattie sat up. It was no good day dreaming of what might have been, she told herself. Their time together had been short but she was grateful that she’d had it, and now, like Jo, she too must move on. One never knew who was going to walk through the Boomerville door and she liked to keep her options open.

Her stomach seemed to have settled down and Hattie stepped out of the bath and reached for a towel. The thick cotton was soft and, as she rubbed her skin dry, she thought about breakfast.

A slumbering mound lay across the bedroom doorway and Hattie almost tripped over the dormant dog. Bunty’s tail began to thump.

‘Where’s Teddy?’ Hattie asked and gave Bunty a nudge with her toe. The dog looked up but Teddy was nowhere to be seen.

Together they went to search for the puppy but when they got to the top of the stairs, Hattie stopped and drew her towel tightly around her body. A terrible smell wafted up from the lounge and she wrinkled her nose as Bunty shot ahead. Following tentatively, Hattie tiptoed down.

She gasped when she saw the sight that greeted them. The carpet was covered with piles of vomit and poo.

‘Teddy?’ Hattie called anxiously.

Bunty began to bark as Hattie carefully stepped her way through to the kitchen where Teddy lay motionless on the cold tiles. His little body was lifeless.

Remnants of the curry supper were spread on the table and Hattie realised that the puppy must have climbed on a chair during the night and tucked in.

‘Oh, hell!’ Hattie said. She spun around to find her phone on the worksurface and frantically searched for Alf’s number. ‘Emergency!’ she yelled as soon as Alf picked up. ‘Mayday! It’s Teddy! Get over to Jo’s now!’

* * *

Melissa satin the breakfast room and pushed her plate to one side. She smiled as a waiter came forward to take it away.

‘Can I get you anything else?’ he asked.

‘No, that was absolutely delicious, thank you.’

She’d enjoyed her breakfast, in fact, she’d enjoyed it more than any meal she’d attempted to eat in a very long time. Perfectly poached eggs with slices of smoked salmon and piping hot coffee with frothy milk.

It was wonderful.

Melissa sat back and looked beyond the French windows where all was still and spring shoots appeared in the wide borders that nestled under the walled garden. Clematis climbed through the nooks and crannies, wrapping around knobbly cherry trees, pruned to spread their branches wide.

As Melissa stared out, she realised that she felt different. Tension was lifting from her shoulders and the anxiety that had gripped her for months had let go its hold. The bruises on her arms and ribs were fading and her appetite had returned, as had an interest in life. She’d enjoyed the quiz, the evening before, and had relished being amongst others who were friendly and kind, characteristics that she’d almost forgotten existed. It has been astonishing to learn that her team had scooped first prize, and the biscuit makers, so elated with their winnings, had bought wine for everyone to enjoy with the curry supper. Melissa didn’t eat meat and had declined the dhansak, preferring instead to nibble on the dahl, while enjoying her wine and the company of the quizzers as they celebrated the evening.

She looked around at the empty dining room and wondered where everyone was. Perhaps most of the guests were preparing for classes. A list of courses, neatly typed on hotel stationary, lay on the table and Melissa picked up a pen and began to read through the details. She decided to select something she’d never tried before and would ask Hattie if there were any spaces.

Engrossed, Melissa didn’t hear Bill come into the room but when he muttered a gruff, ‘Good morning’, she looked up. Bill had been most put out by coming third in the quiz and as he took a seat at a corner table, she wondered what sort of mood he was in.

Melissa gave a cheery wave and Bill responded with a curt nod.

‘Morning, Melissa,’ a group of ladies called out, as they strode to the buffet table. ‘Cracking result last night.’

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