Page 92 of Christmas at Sturcombe Bay
Debbie laughed. “No, of course not. I know you’ll manage. And you’ll probably be able to get someone in to help over the school holidays — that’s the busiest time, and there’s always sixth-formers wanting to earn a few quid.”
“Yes, that’s something to think about. But don’t you bother about it. Just look after yourself — and my new granddaughter.”
“Or grandson.”
“Oh, yes.” Kate smiled happily. “A grandson.”
Chapter Thirty
“Okay, folks. They’re here. All hands on deck. Cue music.”
The buzz had been building up for the past couple of weeks, with the decorations going up, the deliveries of heroic quantities of food and drink, the scramble to get all the rooms ready.
“Show time!” Jess pressed the button on the stereo and the jaunty sound of some cheesy Christmas song chimed out.
The first coach load of Turkey-and-Tinsel guests, fifty-two of them, stepped down from the bus and piled up the steps to the reception hall, gazing around in delight at the glittering decorations.
Most of them wouldn’t see fifty again, though there were some younger ones who’d come with their parents. And they were clearly intent on having a good time. Santa hats and reindeer antlers were much in evidence, and so were jolly Christmas jumpers with elves and snowmen and Christmas trees.
Whether or not they had known each other before boarding the coach, they were already laughing loudly and joking with each other as they formed a very British queue at the desk to book in and collect their room keys, singing along and jigging to the music as they waited.
Alex had welcomed them all at the door, and was now charming them with his warm Canadian accent. Lisa had come down to help, and she, Jess and Vicky worked in a coordinated relay to get everyone booked in, handing them the key cards for their rooms and inviting them to the Welcome Reception in the ballroom with mince pies and mulled wine.
At last all the guests had been shepherded up to their rooms. “Phew!” Jess breathed a sigh of relief. “So, that’s a Turkey-and-Tinsel group!”
She was glad of the distraction. It was a week since she’d seen Paul. Although she was sure she’d done the right thing in telling him she didn’t want a relationship with him, she wasn’t so sure of her own resolve to stick to that.
Fortunately, he was away. He’d gone to Africa to make a television programme about the development of youth football in some of the poorest areas of Botswana. He’d be gone for another couple of weeks.
“Well done, everyone.” Alex came over to the desk, beaming. “Great teamwork. We should have a little while before they start coming down for their mulled wine so I think we have time for a cup of coffee.”
* * *
“The radio sah . . .saidit was going to rain.” Shelley shook her head. “Why is that word written ‘s-a-i-d’ when it’s pronounced as if it’s ‘s-e-d’?”
Helen Channing smiled. “That’s just one of the oddities of the English language, I’m afraid.”
“There are so many oddities.” Shelley sighed impatiently. “How can anyone ever learn them?”
“By taking it a little bit at a time. Carry on. You’re doing great.”
Shelley’s mouth thinned in frustration. It was too hard. It reminded her of how she had struggled when she was at school. Back then she would shout or throw something, run out of the classroom, burst into tears. But now Helen was waiting patiently, her finger on the line.
“Remember the rule for when there’s an ‘e’ at the end of a word?”
She nodded. “It changes how you say the ‘i’. So that’s dek . . .”
“No. Think about it in context. What do you think it’s likely to be?”
“Dek . . . Deki . . . Oh, this is ridiculous.” She flopped back in her chair. It felt as if she was sinking in a wave of misery. “It’s no good. I can’t do it.”
Helen patted her hand. “Okay. Shall we take a break? Let’s have a cup of coffee.”
“Thanks.” Shelley closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Why won’t you let me pay you for lessons?”
Helen laughed. “Because if you pay me, you’ll think it’s okay to give up when it feels like it’s getting too hard. If you’re not paying me, you’ll feel like you owe me — so you won’t give up, will you?”
Shelley laughed. Helen was spot on.“Most people would say it was the other way round.”
