Page 35 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

‘Yes, quite,’ Jo replied. ‘Let’s find James and make plans.’ She picked up the phone and in moments her temporary manager appeared.

‘Ah, James,’ Jo said. ‘Finbar and I are discussing the opening and we need your input.’

‘It will be my pleasure,’ James said and with their enthusiastic brains, Jo soon formed an action plan to be carried out in the run-up to the opening.

Boomerville Manor was taking shape.

15

Like a tide that doesn’t stop, spring pushed April into May and occasional damp and misty mornings became warm and sunny days. Plants burst through the herbaceous borders at Hotel Boomerville and branches of evergreen vines sprouted with buds, as they began their summer ascent over the walls of the enclosed garden.

Sprawled on the lawn, on a bright afternoon, Bunty thumped her tail from side to side, while Teddy tossed a ball in the air, teasing the older dog into play.

On a bench by the pond, Bill watched the puppy wriggling and jumping until finally, spurred into movement, Bunty chased the terrier up the steps to disappear into the meadow. Looking up at the sky, Bill saw birds circling. A swallow swooped down to the water and in one graceful movement, lunged at an insect then soared away.

Much to his surprise, Bill had discovered that he enjoyed being at Boomerville. He even liked Lucinda’s painting class and having endured the outdoor session at dusk, where he’d been frozen to the bone despite layers of blankets and buckets of brandy, Bill had been secretly delighted by his effort. His finished work, entitled “A Cumbrian Sunset”, took pride of place in the little gallery in the courtyard. Locals and tourists were frequent visitors and paintings, pottery and jewellery, produced by the Boomers, were available to purchase. Bill’s painting had been replicated into postcards and notelets and he was as proud as punch that sales had been good.

Lucinda commented that Bill had a talent that could be nurtured with regular instruction. Bill had an inkling that Lucinda might be stringing him along to keep bums on seats, where numbers were sporadic, depending on how many pupils she’d offended that week. But he found that he enjoyed painting; his work was passable and he wanted to do more.

Bill had been at Boomerville for far longer than he’d originally intended. Easter weekend had come and gone and as days turned into weeks, he found that he’d settled into a routine. For the first time in his life, he felt a sense of contentment.

You’re going soft; this fancy lifestyle is costing too much!

His mother’s nagging was still a constant companion, but Bill didn’t care. He’d no desire to return to the gloomy depths of the old Victorian villa, where the ghosts of his parents penetrated every dark nook and cranny. At Hotel Boomerville he’d found a new confidence which, despite his initial reserve, had come on leaps and bounds.

He reached down, picked up a pebble and skimmed it across the pond. Bill thought about Hattie. She was a strong force with persuasion tactics comparable to a military action, and in the early days Bill had been terrified of the manager. But now, with her encouragement, Bill found himself joining in; he liked to be involved and even looked forward to sessions with the Shaman. Following meditation each morning, he would skip out of the tepee with a smile on his face, as he made his way to his next class.

Quiz nights were Bill’s favourite part of the week and he was secretly thrilled that whatever team he captained, they were on a winning roll. The prize money was celebrated with several rounds of drinks and it was a tipsy Captain Bradley who staggered happily back from the pub, arms linked with his team members.

As he settled his account each week, Bill was aware that this lifestyle was costing a bomb. He’d already decided that he was going to sell the villa and downsize. It would be good to get away from the memories that lingered in the foreboding Victorian walls that had haunted him for most of his miserable life. His new life was presenting opportunities he’d never dreamed of and Bill was eager to learn more.

But something else had happened too.

For the first time in his life, Bill had feelings of a romantic nature and was drawn to Melissa. He knew that a woman like that would never look in his direction, but there were occasions when their time at Boomerville coincided and it was with trepidation and a brave heart that he sought her company.

Secretly, Bill stalked Melissa and knew her routine. She’d rarely ventured out of her room since her husband had turned up at the hotel, but Bill knew that Melissa allowed herself an hour in the pool each day and occasionally took the dogs for a walk. Now, he deliberately placed himself in situations where their paths would collide and loitered on the off-chance of catching a few moments in her company.

He wondered about Melissa’s marriage. To his knowledge, Malcolm hadn’t appeared again and Bill hoped that the bullying man had given up the chase. Melissa had extended her stay too; perhaps the relationshipwasover? He wished he had the courage to find out and considered asking Hattie, for Hattie knew what everyone was doing before they knew themselves.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel and he looked up. Melissa was heading towards him.

Bill unbuttoned the top of his shirt and scraped a hand through his hair as Bunty and Teddy danced around, ecstatic to have found their walking partner.

‘Are you going for a walk?’ he asked.

‘No, I’m tired,’ Melissa said. ‘I’ve been swimming.’ Reaching down, she stroked Teddy as he chewed at her hand.

‘The dogs will be disappointed.’

‘Maybe later.’

Melissa carried on walking and headed for the hotel. Bill longed to follow to ask if she might join him for a coffee but his feet were set in stone.

Never in a month of Sundays, Bill Bradley,a taunting voice cackled.You’re punching way above your weight!

As Melissa wandered away, Bill stared at her slim and willowy figure and, with a heavy heart, knew that the ghost of his mother was, as always, right.

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