Page 36 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

Hattie saton the window seat in Jo’s bedroom and thought about her lunch. She was hungry as she stared out at the garden, where Alf was loitering by the courtyard gate. Hattie could see Ness, the scruffy mongrel, asleep at his feet.

Alf had a spade in one hand and a roll-up in the other and as he leant on the wrought ironwork, he turned his face to the sun and closed his eyes.

‘Oi! Alan Titchmarch!’ Hattie knocked on the glass and yelled through the open window. ‘There’s work to be done!’

‘Keep your hair on,’ Alf yelled back. Dragging deeply on the butt, he flicked it into a border. With a grin and a half salute, Alf turned to open the gate and Ness, sensing activity, sprung to her feet and followed, her tail wagging in time to Alf’s rolling gait.

Hattie watched the handyman and hoped that he was heading for the herb garden, which was in dire need of a good sort out. Hattie knew that the Shaman dipped his fingers into the precious supplies and she’d also noticed some very healthy plants in the greenhouse that the Shaman was cultivating. It wasn’t rocket science to work out what they might be, but the Shaman’s classes were a sell-out and whatever aids he used to brighten up the lives of the old codgers, she decided to leave well alone. She wondered if Alf had made any progress with the repairs to her home in Marland and decided that she’d chase him for an update on the builders later that morning. Hattie wasn’t in a hurry to move back but it would be good to have her house straight again.

A movement on the other side of the croquet lawn caught Hattie’s attention and she saw Bill by the pond. Melissa appeared to be walking away. Bill lowered his head and Hattie saw his shoulders droop as he slumped onto a bench.

Suddenly, the penny dropped and Hattie nodded as she thought about Bill’s body language whenever he was in Melissa’s company. Initially, Hattie had thought his change was down to settling into the Boomerville way of life, but, by the look of things, their quiz captain had a crush.

Who would have known that the rude and introverted man that had arrived on Boomerville’s doorstep a few weeks ago would come out of his shell so much? The Shaman was obviously working his magic and whatever sticks and herbs he was shaking at Bill during their morning meditation sessions, they were clearly hitting the spot. The man had mellowed beyond recognition, but love was cruel and in Bill’s case, unrequited.

Hattie had a feeling that there may be trouble ahead.

A rumbling tummy reminded Hattie that it was time for lunch. As she made her way to the kitchen Hattie thought about Melissa, who, unlike Bill, seemed to be making no progress whatsoever and spent her days holed up in her room, or at the pool, with only occasional trips to the restaurant when Hattie insisted that she dine amongst others and not on her own. There was nothing Hattie could do to peel the guest away from a small corner table but at least it was better than a room service tray.

Thank goodness that brute of a husband hadn’t turned up again. Malcolm was menacing and Hattie didn’t fancy another encounter. He paid Melissa’s hotel bill each week but Hattie had a feeling that this wouldn’t continue. Perhaps Malcolm was keen to keep Melissa somewhere he could keep tabs on her?

She reached for a loaf of bread and cut a wedge, then sliced cheese and a tomato and made a sandwich. As she ate, she decided that it was time she had a word with Melissa and stirred her out of her lethargy. The woman needed a change to get back in the land of the living. This was one boomer who wasn’t coming out of their comfort zone under Jo’s carefully planned regime.

Hattie finished her snack and yawned.

She was tired after a late night. One of the guests had celebrated a birthday and together with a group who attended regular sessions with the Shaman, they’d partied hard. Elderly hips had swung and arthritic legs had danced like demons around his tepee, under the light of the moon and a roaring camp fire. It had taken Hattie several attempts to insist that they totter off to bed in the early hours and she knew that there’d been several guests on the missing list that morning.

Hattie had also caught up with Jo and heard about progress in Ireland. Her mind spun as she absorbed the plans that were taking shape. The opening event was fast approaching. It looked set to be a grand affair and Jo insisted that Hattie join them. Needing no encouragement, Hattie had agreed; she’d swim to Ireland if she had to, for it was a shindig not to be missed and she’d already worked out staff rotas to cover her absence.

But now it was time to get back to work.

Hattie hurried through the house. As she skipped down the stairs at the back of the hotel she bumped into Melissa. ‘Ah, just the woman,’ Hattie said. ‘I want to have a word with you.’

Melissa shrank back. She tried to move away but Hattie blocked the doorway. Taking her arm, Hattie steered Melissa into the dining room and sat them both at a corner table.

‘We’ll be nice and comfortable here. I expect you’re hungry after your swim.’ Hattie nodded to a passing waiter. ‘A club sandwich and some coffee, please.’

‘I’m not hungry,’ Melissa said and gripped her bag to her knee. ‘My towel is wet and I need to change.’

‘Plenty of time for that.’ Hattie took the bag and hooked it over the back of her chair. ‘You look like a film star in that lovely leisure suit.’

‘Hardly,’ Melissa said and touched nervously at the soft velour jacket.

‘Oh, I think you catch a fair bit of attention and pink suits your complexion.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Many a man would be happy to do a few lengths alongside you in the pool.’ An uncomfortable image of Bill in speedos flashed through Hattie’s mind.

Coffee arrived and Hattie poured. ‘Now,’ she began, ‘what are we going to do about Malcolm?’

Melissa flinched and stared at Hattie.

‘He’s paying your bills but I don’t think he’s going to go away.’

‘I keep thinking he’s going to walk through the door and drag me back to Cheshire.’

‘That’s not going to happen while you’re under our roof.’ Hattie patted Melissa’s hand. ‘But you’re not making any progress; you haven’t joined in with any classes and the whole point of Boomerville is to expand your mind and get you to come out of your comfort zone to try new things.’

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