Page 4 of The Summer Island Swap
Still. I had to give it a go. One thing I’d learnt, since leaving home, was to never give up. Like the way I’d taught myself to hang wallpaper. There’d been tears. Rolls of discarded paper that had gone on wonky. I’d felt so proud when I finished one wall.
I took a deep breath. ‘The rooms on the top floor that are slightly bigger… Why don’t we trial stocking them with better quality linen, curtains that match duvets, small mini bars and trouser presses? We could charge more and might snag customers wanting a bigger slice of luxury at a lower price.’ I leant forward. ‘We’d be more competitive against that posh hotel down the road and—’
Prue looked at me and raised the palm of her hand. She was grinning. Hope unfurled in my chest.
Until she started laughing. Tears ran down her bony cheeks.
‘Christ, Sarah. What do you think this place is? The Ritz? Stick to what you know best – running the housekeeping team and chasing out late risers.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘Best Travel is a tightly run ship but not theTitanic.’
Neck burning, I stood up. Prue reminded me of Dad. It was her way or no way at all. That frustration, inside me, that had been growing for weeks rumbled like a dormant volcano considering waking up. I pressed my lips together but couldn’t stop myself turning at the door.
‘What now?’ she asked.
I should have left without saying a word.
I should have swallowed my wrath.
Instead I went back over to her.
‘Some might say your lack of vision is narrow-minded, Prue,’ I said, in a measured tone. ‘It could cost you the business. These are competitive times.’
An hour later, still shaking, I met Amy outside the underground station we’d agreed on. She’d managed to get an early shift too. I smiled and nodded in all the right places as she reluctantly fitted on skimpy clothes chosen by me. Blocking out Prue’s reaction, I somehow got through the afternoon, eating cake and laughing over a sun cream that smelt like spoiled milk. With relief, I put the key in our front door, went into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa.
Amy collapsed next to me and groaned as she eyed up our bags. ‘I’m already regretting buying that bikini.’ She linked her arm through mine.
‘But the pineapples on it are so cute,’ I said. Playfully she punched my arm. I caught her hand and held it tight. ‘Thanks, Amy. I know shopping isn’t really your thing – like this whole luxury break. You’re the best sister ever. And four weeks is long enough for me to convert you. By the time we get back you’ll be longing to book your next pedicure and facial.’
‘What’s the point of pedicures in England? No one’s going to see your feet with the weather we’ve been having. And I’ve always washed my face with soap and water. I can’t imagine a fancy facial really does any more good than that. But… but I’m looking forward to being proved wrong,’ she added quickly. ‘I must remember to pay the final amount. It’s due in a couple of days – as you keep reminding me.’
‘I just can’t wait for this break,’ I said and my voice wavered. I meant every word one hundred times over after what had happened with Prue a few hours ago. I wanted Amy to hug me tight. I wanted to open up and reveal how much I’d grown to detest working at Best Travel.
I’d forgotten what it looked like, to turn white with anger. Prue’s complexion soon brought back the worst memories of Dad. She’d slammed down her mug and said I should be more grateful. Then she laughed at me for using the wordvision. Sniggered and said I’d watched too many episodes ofThe Apprentice.
If only I could confide in Amy but I’d spent too many years protecting my little sister, to stop now. ‘The accommodation you’ve booked sounds just like the kind of place I’d love to run one day.’ I closed my eyes, picturing the designer executive suits I’d wear, to look the part of operations manager.
‘What… this break will remind you of the nine ’til five?’
‘Well, I do work in a hotel,’ I said and shot her a humorous glance. ‘Just imagine the clientele you could attract at that sort of place. I’d offer butlers and personal masseuses and waitressing staff on the beach. This holiday is going to give me a fantastic inside view of high-end hospitality. Don’t get me wrong, I… I love my assistant manager position at Best Travel, the job is great… but you know I’ve been researching working at top-notch hotels. This trip is going to provide me with brilliant insight for interviews. I shall take a notebook and write down everything we experience, from start to finish.’
She gave me a sideways glance. ‘This holiday is supposed to be a getaway – a getaway from the usual routine.’
‘And it will be.’
‘No, it won’t. By the sounds of it you’re going to spend every hour thinking about the hotel business – namely work.’
‘But I’ll be experiencing hospitality from the other side of the fence – that’s completely new. This is the perfect opportunity to make up for my lack of experience of actually working in a luxury setting. I think I’ll write a personal statement, based on this trip, to attach to my CV, explaining what I’ve learnt from living for a month as a five-star guest.’
Amy raised an eyebrow and gave an exasperated sigh.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ She glanced away. ‘I’ve put the oven on for those pizzas we bought.’
‘I’ll chop up some peppers and mushrooms for the top. We can kid ourselves it’s healthy, then.’
Half an hour later we both sat on the sofa again, in our pyjamas, eating pizza and drinking squash. The day’s cloudy sky flirted with dusk. I didn’t mind. Whilst I loved eating ice cream and favoured my summer wardrobe, the best season was winter and evenings holed up in the flat. We’d drink hot chocolate and watch Netflix in our dressing gowns with a plateful of biscuits whilst diplomatic Nelly would stretch herself across both our laps.
Amy finished her last mouthful, crusts and all. It had been a busy day – although the calorie hit didn’t perk her up. Her mood had been more subdued than usual since we got back.
