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The main door was closed. There was an old-style bell button apparent, but how the hell was she going to press it without dropping the cake? She was starting to feel flummoxed when a crack appeared between the two heavy wooden doors. A gruff male voice said ‘H’lo?’ The crack widened to reveal a young man with a gappy grin and shorn-short hair, dressed in camouflage-style jacket and trousers.
‘Hello, there, it’s Ellie.’ She was just about to add that she was here for an interview when Deana appeared at the lad’s shoulder.
‘Ah, Ellie, lovely to see you.’ She was smiling broadly. ‘Well, don’t just stand there, James, let her in. And maybe give her a hand with that box. You can see she’s struggling.’ Deana’s tone was bossy but not unkind; it seemed the young man needed help to understand what was required of him. Though he looked adult physically, there was something in his face, his eyes, that suggested to Ellie that his mind wasn’t quite as advanced.
He made to grab the box. Ellie didn’t want to reject his help but urged, ‘It’s a cake, be careful with it. Please hold the box flat, thanks.’
He nodded, holding the box like a fragile gift, his eyes lighting up at the word ‘cake’.
Deana smiled again, ‘If it’s to be cut and there’s any left later, we might just save you a bit, James, if that’s alright with Ellie?’
‘Yes, of course. I thought it might be a good idea to show Lord Henry a sample of the kind of things I’d like to be baking for the teashop.’
‘Hmn, now that sounds good.’
They followed Deana into the courtyard and then into what seemed to be her office on the ground floor. It was small and crowded with files and paperwork.
‘Can I have a peek?’ Deana asked.
‘Yep, go ahead.’
Deana got James to lower the cake down onto her desk, then Ellie lifted a corner of the lid. They all peered in.
‘Wow! That looks amazing. Well, there goes my diet if you get the job. I’ll not be able to resist. It looks a darned sight better than anything Cynthia brought out at the end of last year when she was standing in, I must say.’
James stood there gazing in, eyes wide. He looked like he might actually drool.
‘I’m sure there’ll be some spare, James. Just ask Deana later,’ Ellie said.
He grinned widely, showing the gap in his front teeth.
‘Right, I’ll just give Lord Henry a call and see if they’re ready for you yet,’ said Deana.
Ellie felt the nerves tightening inside her. The clock on the wall said five to. James was standing quietly.
‘Thank you, James. Why don’t you go and see Colin in the yard. He had some wood for you to chop for kindling.’
The young man nodded and left, with a last longing look at the cake box. Once he was out of earshot, Deana began to explain, ‘He’s a nice lad. Lives in the village. He had an accident on one of the farms when he smaller, never been quite the same since. He’s a hard worker, mind. Lord Henry likes to give him some work when he can.’
That seemed a nice thing to do. Her opinion of Lord Henry lifted. He didn’t seem quite as scary.
As Deana dialled through, Ellie looked around the office. There was a portable gas heater that looked like something out of the seventies; she seemed to remember Nanna having a smaller version in her flat years ago. A romantic novel was open, pages splayed face down, on the antique wooden desk; it looked as though Deana had been reading just before Ellie had got there. There was also a mobile phone, a computer monitor, a small framed photo of what looked to be Deana and her husband, and a half-empty cup of coffee with a pink lipstick mark on the rim. Behind Deana’s head, on the wall, was a pen-and-ink print of the castle in former days, and a stuffed red squirrel in a glass box. The room was a curious combination of old and new.
‘Just letting you know that Ellie Hall’s here.’ Some muffled words came back down the line, ‘Okay, I’ll send her up, then.’
Deana gave a small thumbs-up signal, then placed the handset down.
‘You’re on. Good luck, pet. Can I give you a hand up those stairs with that cake? And I’ll make a fresh pot of tea and coffee and bring them up after, shall I? I assume you’ve brought the cake and scones to try, they’re not just for looking at?’
‘Yes, that was the idea. Thanks, Deana, that would be lovely. Perhaps if you can take these scones, I’ll manage the cake.’ She didn’t want any accidents at the last.
‘Of course.’
Ellie sensed that she had someone on her side. Back across the courtyard they headed up the stone tower, Deana first, to the second-floor study again. Ellie took each step cautiously. She was glad of the black polo neck she’d popped on under the grey suit, and the cerise-pink scarf gave her a splash of colour as well as warmth – she was learning.
Well then, this was it, Round Two.
‘Good luck.’ Deana’s smile was warm and genuine as she knocked on the office door, opened it, and gestured for Ellie to go in. Ellie tried to look her most confident, smiling as she placed the box carefully on Lord Henry’s desk. Both he and Joe raised their eyebrows inquisitively. Joe then gave her a small grin. She felt a little flip inside. Deana said she’d be back with some tea and coffee, taking the scones back with her to plate up. The two men stood up at the same time. They were roughly the same height. Lord Henry shaking Ellie’s hand first, ‘Good morning, Ellen.’
‘Morning.’ She still didn’t have the nerve to correct him. Then she turned to Joe.
‘Welcome back,’ the younger man’s tone was warm as he took her palm in his own for a second or two, which gave her a weird, tingly feeling, probably just the nerves. ‘Did you have a good journey?’ he continued.
‘Oh, yes, fine.’ She held back a grimace; if only they could have seen her wrestling with the cake box around the corners. ‘Except for some interesting cake-balancing in the lanes at the end,’ she added, deciding to break the ice with some humour.
‘Aah, I see.’ Lord Henry smiled.
‘Hmn, I hoped there might be something along those lines in there.’ Joe was smiling too.
‘Well, I thought you might like to actually taste my work, rather than me just tell you about it.’ Cos there isn’t much to tell. ‘Give you an idea of what I might be serving in the tearooms, should I be lucky enough to obtain the lease.’
They were nodding as though that were a good idea, so Ellie warmed to her theme, ‘Well, anyone can say they’re a good cook or baker, but as my Nanna always used to say, “The proof of the pudding is in the eating”.’
‘Indeed,’ agreed Lord Henry.
Right on cue, there was a knock at the door and Deana reappeared with a tray laden with a teapot, cups and saucers, the scones piled enticingly on a plate, with a mountain of butter in a dish beside them, forks, tea plates, the works.
‘Thank you, Deana,’ Lord Henry’s tone was warm but still formal.
Ellie took this as the cue to unbox the choffee, spotting that Deana had thought to bring both a cake slice and large knife. ‘Wow!’ Deana exclaimed convincingly, despite having already seen the cake, ‘That looks amazing. You lucky devils.’ She grinned at the two men, in a show of envy.
Thank you, Deana. Ellie appreciated the support.
‘Well, I’d better be on my way. Enjoy. It looks delicious.’
Ellie sliced the cake carefully. It was deep, moist and very chocolatey. The chocolate-coffee frosting was more or less intact, as were the chocolate curls and decorations, even after the zig-zag journey. ‘Would you like to try some?’
Her hand was trembling a little as she placed a slice onto a tea plate.
‘Certainly,’ said Lord Henry. ‘Yes, please,’ Joe added.
‘Choffee cake,’ she announced, ‘A favourite family recipe.’
The ‘mmns’ that accompanied their eating cheered her, though she had no appetite and hadn’t taken any for herself, her stomach still suffering from the nerves that had gripped it for days now. Joe poured them all some tea.
The two men sat back in their chairs after polishing off the slices of choffee. Then the more intense questioning began.
‘Right then, Ellie, what do you know of the health and safety and good hygiene requirements for running a catering outlet?’ Joe. ‘And do you have the relevant certification to show for this?’
Gulp! Hold your nerve, girl.
‘What experience do you have of dealing with and managing staff?’ Lord Henry.
‘How will you keep an eye on the accounts side of the business?’ Joe.
‘Have you taken any business advice?’ Joe.
Questions were fired like bullets. She tried her best to answer honestly yet positively. It was like an interrogation, far more searching than last time, and Ellie’s initial confidence surge from the high of the cake-tasting was plummeting fast. But she did have some kind of answer for every question: the nights spent fretting had meant she’d already gone over much of this in her mind, and she’d done a lot of research in her breaks at work. Yesterday, she had also got in touch with the small business advisor at her local bank for advice. Google had helped no end, too, and what she didn’t yet have in the way of certification she’d already got her name down to take as soon as possible – her only white lie of the interview.
By the end of all the questions her head was spinning, she felt drained and was wondering once again how the hell she ever thought she could run a teashop? Having a dabble on Google, getting some advice and making a decent choffee cake didn’t amount to a lot.
The interview drew to a close after she’d had the chance to ask some questions herself. She’d remembered to ask about the terms of the lease and how that worked. How long it would be for? (One season, initially, as a trial, from Easter through to the end of October.) And she asked if there were any tearoom staff expecting to return to their jobs from last year? She’d need help with waitressing at least. There were two apparently: Doris and Nicola. Ellie thought she saw Joe’s face look a little strained as he mentioned Doris.
As they stood to shake hands, the interview drawing to a close, Ellie felt utterly exhausted.
‘Thank you for taking the time to come along today,’ Lord Henry’s words and thin smile were unreadable – Ellie reckoned he’d make a great poker player.
Joe’s dark eyes held a flicker of warmth as their hands connected in a farewell grasp. ‘The cake was delicious,’ he said encouragingly. She managed a hopeful smile back. She stared a second too long, lost to the green flecks amongst the intense deep-brown of his irises, then stood back as his grip released.
Cool, Calm, Collected – her mantra back in place. ‘Thank you very much for asking to see me again,’ she managed, ‘I look forward to hearing from you.’
4
Joe
Well, he hoped Lord Henry wasn’t going to be a stick-in-the-mud about this one … That cake was bloody delicious. She could cook, she seemed organised, had good ideas for the future of the business, she was intelligent, hardworking … and, she was pretty. Yes, she was attractive, wasn’t she – lovely green eyes and that honey-blonde hair piled on top of her head. He wondered what it would look like loose, how long it would be? Christ, what was the matter with him, thinking about her looks? Anyway, that was all beside the point, though being attractive would certainly help draw in the clients. Definitely be more damned appealing than that Cynthia-bloody-Bosworth woman, with her hips that stuck out at right angles to her body: she could probably use them as trays. And, it wasn’t as though they’d had a queue of applicants for the job.
Oh, but Henry could be so bloody-minded and set in his ways, insisting on carrying on with the ‘same old’ just because it had always worked alright. Alright? Didn’t he want anything to work better? Joe felt that for the past four years he’d been trying to drag his boss kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century, when in fact Henry was only just getting used to the twentieth century. He’d only just managed to persuade him to get Deana a computer three years ago. There had been paper ledgers and everything was being handwritten, which wouldn’t have been quite so bad if Lord Henry’s handwriting had been legible in the first place. Deana had done her best to get the administration in order, but Joe had realised that much of the paperwork had been left to flounder when Lady Hogarth had passed away.
One of the earliest tasks that Joe had set himself was to set up a website and get the castle some internet presence – other than the tourist information centres and the occasional drive-by, no one really knew they existed – which was probably how Lord Henry preferred it. But the castle needed income, and quickly, if it was going to survive. A chap called Michael, from a marketing company in the nearby town of Alnwick, had helped set up the website and designed some new brochures and adverts to attract the tourists. Trying to get Lord Henry to realise that most businesses these days had a web presence, and to commit some funds to that, was like drawing blood from a stone, but he and Michael got there in the end.
Everything seemed a battle, but over time Joe had learned how to handle Henry – introduce the idea and the reasons why it would be beneficial, for example, why they should take Ellie on, and then leave Henry to it, so in time he began to think it was his own idea after all. The ‘gently, gently’ approach seemed to work, and ‘slowly, slowly’ … but they didn’t have a lot of time with this one, Easter was less than three weeks away. The tearooms would need a freshen up before opening, staff would need to be in place, deliveries supplied … There was a massive amount of work to do in a short time.
‘So what do you think?’ Joe put the question out there as the two of them sat in the study after the interview.
‘Hmn, I might just have another slice of that cake. It was rather good, I must say. But I do still have one or two reservations. She seems very young and there is a real lack of experience there.’
‘But the cake’s pretty damn good, isn’t it, and the scones? She’s proved she can cook. I can always advise if there are any management issues. At the end of the day we need good food, good service and a clean venue. And if the food is right, then people will come along, recommend us and come back. That’s what we need.’ He was sticking his neck out. But he really didn’t want to be dealing with Cynthia, her grumpy attitude and her tasteless lumpy cakes. She’d covered a couple of weeks last year when Mrs Charlton had taken a fortnight off for a bunion operation. And in that short time she’d managed to upset the waitresses, Doris and Nicola – though upsetting Doris was an easy enough thing to do – not to mention a couple of their regular customers.
‘Ellie is pleasant, she seems well organised, a hard worker, ambitious, with some good ideas too,’ he continued.
Lord Henry gave him a sour look. Dammit, he realised he’d overstepped the mark. New ideas were always suspicious to Henry. They were not tried and tested.
‘And how will a young girl like that manage the staff?’
‘She’s worked in a team for a long while, and seems to have managed well when she had responsibility for her friend’s café. And anyway, it didn’t take Cynthia very long to upset Doris and Nicola, did it?’
‘Hmmn,’ was the answer he got. Then Lord Henry started with, ‘Cynthia doesn’t need to give notice.’
‘Well, that’s only because she’s unemployed at the moment. So that’s the best reason to take her on, then, is it?’ He couldn’t hide the hint of sarcasm in his tone. ‘Look, I think Ellie will be good. I like her,’ were Joe’s final words on the matter.
Lord Henry merely pressed his lips together.
There was no more to be said just now, so Joe got up to leave. The older man was never going to make a decision that quickly, not with the girl just five minutes out of the room. Joe was already by the door. He turned, saying, ‘We can’t leave it too long, Henry. We’ve interviewed them both twice now, and it’s not as though there’s a queue of applicants. Easter is just over three weeks away, and I don’t know how to cook a batch of scones, do you?’ He challenged his boss with a stare, as if to say over to you, but I’ll be arguing my case.
Lord Henry’s stare back didn’t falter, ‘I’ll see.’
Deana came in through the part-open door to clear the crockery. Joe guessed that she was rooting for Ellie too. Hopefully she would set to work on Lord Henry as well. A double-pronged fork action – that might just do the trick. But he could be such a stubborn old bugger. Joe was sure Deana had warmed to Ellie; the way she had helped with the tea and coffee, laid out the scones. She was on Ellie’s side. The last thing she would want was another bossy middle-aged woman in the castle … She was enough herself, and would be the first to admit it!
‘We’ll speak later.’ Joe walked on out the door. He had loads to do. He was getting a new flyer made up to distribute around other local attractions and the tourist information centres. He needed to organise an advert too for the local Gazette as they were doing a special ‘What’s On Over Easter’ section. And he had to call in some contractors to look at repairs to the roof after last week’s storms; some missing tiles had caused a leak in the Edward I Room. God, this place was falling apart, and, boy, did they need to pick up their visitor numbers this year and improve their income! The repairs and staff bills alone would eat up any chance of a profit they might make. And the farm side of the estate was only just covering its costs. Yet he’d grown fond of this place, this crumbling crazy castle that he thought of as home, and had built up over these past four years. He didn’t want to see it fail now, be sold off to some property developer and made into flats. Surely Lord Henry didn’t want that either, but the whole damn place was at risk of turning to dust.
Joe wound his way down the stone stairwell and headed for the great hall, which was the quickest way to get across to the opposite wing, where his own office and apartment were. There were two huge fireplaces in the hall, and an immense mahogany table that virtually filled the room. There must have been thirty-six chairs set at it. Deana would lay it all out with crockery and glasses just before the Easter visitors were due, ready for the banquet that never happened. The tourists could only look at it. But why couldn’t it be used, why couldn’t they move on to doing functions; weddings? Ellie seemed the sort of ambitious businesswoman who could drive that forward; the castle might be able to do function catering. That would surely bring more income in. Yes, they’d get booking fees, they might even let some of the bedrooms out as guest suites and bring these rooms to life once more. Give this place a future not just a past.
But would he ever manage to persuade Lord Henry?
*
Five days … five days it had taken, of arguing his case, then backing off a bit. The ‘softly, softly’ approach. But they were desperately in need of getting someone into the position. Lord Henry couldn’t make any decision in a hurry, oh no, and the poor girl and that awful Cynthia woman were left hanging by a thread, no doubt wondering what was going on.
Well, at least he was making the call now.
A lady answered the phone, middle-aged by her tone, definitely not Ellie. He introduced himself and then heard her shout away from the receiver but still pounding in his ears, ‘It’s for you, Ellie. That Joe chappie from the castle, I think.’ Must be her mother, he mused, with a wry smile.
He was sure he heard a little squeal in the background, of excitement or fear; he wasn’t certain. It made him grin. He could picture her dashing to the phone – it was a nice image. He couldn’t help but notice at the interview that she had generous boobs, they were sure to be bouncing.His heart rate cranked up. God, what was he thinking? He was usually very professional about these things, and he would continue to be. Image removed promptly.
‘Hel-lo,’ her pitch was higher than he remembered. She sounded nervous.
‘Hi, Ellie, it’s Joe Ward here. I’m just calling to let you know …’ He sensed her holding her breath. He could drag this out, but that wouldn’t be fair on the girl. ‘Well, I’d like to offer you the lease on the Claverham Castle Teashop for the season.’
Silence for a second, then her voice, ‘You would?’
‘Yes, I would.’ There was a hint of amusement in his tone.
‘Oh … My … Goodness.’
It wasn’t quite the response he’d expected, but it made him feel good, nonetheless. He’d obviously just made her day. And her genuine enthusiasm and warmth gave him even more confidence in his decision, though she’d have an awful lot to pick up in a short space of time … but he could help; he’d seen how the tearooms had worked over the past couple of years, and the improvements she could easily make. As the landlord, and with his experience in running the estate, he knew the ins and outs of health and safety, insurance requirements and the like, he could put her on the right track. And then … functions … the future. His mind was rolling along. Yet, there was no further response down the line. Was she still there?
Come to think of it, she hadn’t actually said ‘yes’, had she? ‘Oh My Goodness’ wasn’t exactly a yes, he realised. ‘Would you like some time to think about it, Ellie?’
‘Oh no, well yes. The answer’s definitely yes.’
‘Great … Well, we’d like you to start as soon as possible, to get things up and running before the Easter weekend opening. But I realise you will probably have to work some notice with your present company.’
‘Oh, I’ve already looked into that. I officially have to give a month, but I had an off-the-record chat with my supervisor, you know, just in case, and I’m already owed a week-and-a-half as holiday, so she said she could let me go in two weeks. That’d mean I could be with you at the castle a week before the opening weekend.’
She seemed to have thought things through and be organised. He was pleased she was already living up to expectations.
‘Okay, well that should be enough time to get the place ready, just,’ he added with a smile.
‘Great.’
‘And if you have any particular questions and queries in the meanwhile just give me a call. I deal more with the day-to-day running issues at the castle, so best to ask for me rather than Lord Henry.’
* * *
Ellie
Any questions or queries? My God, she had a running list in her mind … But they wanted her, she had the lease. Wayy-hayyy! She was having trouble keeping still, bouncing on her toes in the hallway of their terraced house. She was going to be her own boss, under the watchful, not unattractive, deep-brown eyes of Joe Ward, and she was going to be working and living (hopefully!) in … a … castle. Were there any pressing questions? She couldn’t possibly ask all the ninety-seven that were bouncing in her head!
‘Thanks … Actually, yes, there is something. You mentioned at interview there might be accommodation with the role. Umn, is that still the case?’
‘Oh.’ He sounded as if he was thinking on the spot. ‘Well, we can sort you out with one of the guest rooms in the castle. I’ll get Deana to get it all organised for you. Does that sound okay?’
‘Ah, yes … And would that be included in the lease payment, or will I have to pay extra as rent?’ She was a little concerned as to how far Nanna’s money was going to have to go.
‘Umn, maybe a nominal fee but nothing too much, don’t worry. I’ll have a quick think on it and let you know, if that’s alright.’
Again she had the feeling he was thinking on his feet. The previous tearoom leaseholder had probably lived locally. This seemed to be a new prospect for him.
‘Okay, well thank you. And thanks for giving me this opportunity … I won’t let you or the castle down.’ She had the feeling it was more his decision than Lord Henry’s that she had the offer. She just hoped that in reality she could keep that promise.