Page 90 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

‘Perfect timing, they’re on their way, grab a seat.’

‘How are you feeling?’ Hattie asked.

‘Better since our chat last night.’ Melissa smiled. ‘I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you both for what you’ve done for me.’

‘Nonsense,’ Jo said. ‘We can’t wait to have you as part of the team here and you’re more than welcome to stay in the cottage.’

The previous evening Melissa had asked if she could speak to them both. She’d decided that it was time to make her mind up about her future. News of Malcolm’s arrest had been a relief and now, confident that she could make plans to rebuild her life, she’d asked Jo if there was any chance of work at Boomerville Manor. She would clean, wait on tables, change beds, anything to give her an income.

‘The way things are looking,’ Jo had said, ‘we’ll be busy after we reopen next weekend and could certainly do with an extra pair of hands.’ Jo offered Melissa the position of general assistant, which would encompass everything from learning all about reception to working in the restaurant. ‘It will be a great help to have a versatile person on hand, if you don’t mind learning the ropes.’

Hattie suggested that Melissa move into the cottage and Jo agreed.

‘I may need spare bedrooms for family and friends from time to time,’ Jo said, ‘but we can sort that out later. Hattie can give you a hand to decorate this week and I’m sure that I can find decent furnishings to tide things over.’

‘Aye, she’ll not want to sleep on a camp bed.’ Hattie had nodded in agreement to the plans.

Now, as they waited for everyone to join them, they spoke about Bill.

‘What about his funeral?’ Melissa asked.

‘We’ll know more in due course,’ Hattie replied. ‘The police in Creston, where Bill lived, have traced a lady who cleaned for Bill, and his mother when she was alive. She seems to know who their solicitor was.’

‘Does that mean that there’s a will?’ Melissa looked puzzled.

‘Oh, yes, there’s a will.’

Jo was about to ask Hattie how she was so certain that Bill had written a will, but the door to the lounge was suddenly flung open and a dishevelled group trooped in.

‘Damned dismal day out there,’ Audrey said, shrugging off her towel. ‘The lake’s a mud bath, good job we’re not performing.’ Mounds of mottled pink flesh appeared as soggy blouses were unbuttoned and flesh rubbed down. Willie, who was still reeling after the weight of Lucinda’s luggage, looked fascinated as chafed bottoms bounced into dry tracksuits.

‘Where’s Alf?’ Jo asked.

‘Drying the dogs off in the porch,’ Willie said and took a handkerchief out of his pocket to dab at his damp face.

James came into the lounge, followed by a waiter who pushed a trolley laden with coffee and cakes. Connor had added plates of sandwiches, mini cheese pies and hot sausage rolls.

Lucinda, who was a dry as a bone and sprawled on a sofa, looked up and eyed the offering. ‘Any gin to be had?’ she demanded.

‘Tonic and ice?” James asked.

‘Easy on the tonic.’ Lucinda yawned then puffed on the unlit cigarette in her holder.

Alf and three damp dogs joined them. Bunty leaned on Melissa’s legs and eyed a sausage roll as Teddy jumped onto her knee. Ness, glued to Alf, demolished a crust and was patiently waiting for her master to drop another into her mouth.

James returned with Lucinda’s drink and was followed by Finbar, back from his airport trip.

‘I’ve come to say goodbye to you all and wish you a safe journey,’ Finbar said.

‘Hell of a fellow,’ Audrey boomed and slapped Finbar on the back. ‘We’ll miss you.’

Finbar hugged the Babes and shook Alf and Willie’s hand.

Hattie was enjoying a slice of Connor’s carrot cake when the door opened again and Harry walked in. He wore a T-shirt with a slogan stretched tightly across his chest that read, “You’re Using My Oxygen”.

Hattie rolled her eyes and shook her head. ‘Now then, Sherlock, what have you got to tell us?’

‘I think you all need to sit down.’

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