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around Frank’s neck. ‘I’m not crying, honestly,’ she said, wiping her tears. ‘These,’ she lied, pointing to her eyes, ‘are tears of happiness.’ Bess picked up the ledger, ran her finger down the incoming column then the outgoing column and laughed loudly. ‘We’ve broken even. I can hardly believe it.’

‘It’s all there in black and white. And,’ Frank said, kissing Bess, ‘by this New Year’s Eve, we’ll be making a profit.’

Bess blew out her cheeks. ‘There have been so many problems that could have set us back.’

‘But they didn’t,’ Frank said, ‘and nothing is going to. Come on, you’re on reception duty with Jack, and I have to feed the animals. I’ll go and put my old togs on.’

‘I’ll check on the kitchen first,’ Bess said, following Frank out of the office. ‘I’ll be with you in five minutes, Jack.’

Bess stuck her head round the kitchen door. ‘Need anything, Chef?’ she called, expecting the usual mutterings of, “A second pair of hands” or “A twin would be good.”

Instead he sang ‘All is bravo in my kitchen, gracias!’ He was more Spanish than ever. ‘Oh, the laundry was delivered this morning. If you would like to check it, I do not have the time.’

The laundry had been done well and stacked neatly as always. Bess ticked everything off the list. Leaving the laundry room, a pile of half-a-dozen new chefs’ aprons caught her eye. ‘Going into business selling pinnies, Chef?’ she said, closing the door.

‘Noooo!’ the chef threw back his head and looked to the heavens. ‘A mistake was made when they were ordered. By the supplier, of course.’

‘Of course.’

‘But I decided to keep them. I believe you have complained in the past about me going into the dining room in a dirty apron, so I thought you would rather me have a few spare.’

Resisting the urge to argue that, at the speed the Lowarth Laundry collected and returned the hotel’s linen and kitchen-whites, Chef only needed one extra apron, not six, Bess said, ‘Good!’ and left.

As she neared the dining room door she heard Alice Arkwright, the senior waitress in charge of the dining room and its staff, ticking Sylvie off for coming to work in laddered nylons. Sylvie said she had snagged her stockings on a box in the staff room, but it seemed the senior waitress wasn’t listening or, like Chef, didn’t want to back down and admit she could be wrong. ‘This once,’ Alice Arkwright said, ‘you can take a pair from my cupboard, but do not come to work in shabby attire again!’

Bess had thought about intervening, but thankfully didn’t have to. As the sounds of, ‘No, Miss Arkwright,’ and ‘Thank you, Miss Arkwright’ grew louder, Bess realised the grateful waitress was near the door, so she moved away from it. Deciding to check the dining tables later, she turned on her heels and went back to reception to do her shift.

‘Hello?’ Bess said, beaming at Nancy who dropped Ena’s hand as soon as she saw Bess and was running across the marble hall to her. ‘Have you had a nice time at--’ Bess wasn’t sure what Nancy should call her mother.

‘Yes. I played with Grandpa Dudley’s pipes in the front room. And Grandma Dudley gave me some chocolate,’ Nancy said, showing off by swinging from left to right. Something she’d picked up from Aimee.

Bess’s mother strolled in behind them. ‘Hello, love. I’ve brought a recipe for Chef. I’ll pop through to the kitchen and give it to him,’ Lily Dudley said, without pausing for breath.

‘He’s busy, so don’t expect him to stop and chat.’

Bess’s mother shrugged off her coat, gave it to Ena, and with her handbag swinging on her arm waltzed across the hall in the direction of the kitchen.

Bess pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing. ‘Are you hungry, Nancy?’ she asked. Nancy shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t think you would be.’

‘I did tell Mam not to give her cake, or she wouldn’t want her lunch, but she didn’t listen,’ Ena said.

‘Cake? I thought she had chocolate?’

‘She did. She had cake too, with a drink of milk. Sorry, I’m not very good at saying no to children, and there isn’t a way of saying no to our Mam.’

‘Ah, here’s Jack.’ Another heart won, Bess thought, as Jack arrived, leaning forward ready to pick Nancy up. ‘My but you’re getting a big girl. Is Mrs Donnelly feeding you too much cake?’

‘No, but my mother is,’ Bess said. Jack gave Nancy a wide-eyed, open mouthed look of surprise and she giggled. ‘I’ll take my lunch break now, Jack, if it’s all right with you?’

‘Of course, Mrs Donnelly. See you later, Nancy,’ the young receptionist said, standing Nancy down.

Bess and Ena’s mother came out of the kitchen as her daughters and Nancy turned from the hall into the passage leading to the dining room. Nancy took the extended hand of her new Grandma - and the sixty-eight year old and the eight year old walked into the dining room together.

Ena stopped short of the door and turned to Bess. ‘What happened with Katherine Hawksley?’

‘She’s had a terrible life, poor kid. Her mother died when she was little, she has an aunt somewhere who hates her father.’

‘I wonder why?’

‘Exactly. He told Katherine that her mother didn’t want her.’

‘The bastard!’

‘What are you two cooking up?’ Frank called, from the far end of the passage.

Bess waited for Frank to join her. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ she whispered. And taking hold of Frank’s hand, they walked into the dining room behind Ena.

By the time they’d finished eating the afternoon light was fading. Chef, in a pristine and newly laundered white apron, swanned into the dining room and began making a fuss of Bess’s mother. ‘Lily, lo-v-ely Lily,’ he gushed, lowering his large frame

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