Page 68 of Too Busy for Love

By the time five o’clock rolls round, we have a verbal agreement. Emilio is unsurprisingly exacting about pretty much every aspect of the business, from the financial model that will see him operating the restaurant essentially as an independent concession within the hotel, to the equipment that will be installed in the kitchen. Even the crockery and glassware have to fit the Marcuso’s brand, so his final demand, that his company will take sole responsibility for recruiting and managing all the restaurant staff, wasn’t a surprise. In return, we’ve managed to secure agreement from him that he will be onsite and in the kitchen for the first two weeks to deal with any teething problems and help get the restaurant off to the best start possible.

As soon as the meeting finishes, Abby rushes off to meet James, and I find myself at a bit of a loose end. I don’t have any reason to hurry back to Margate, so I decide to take a meandering route back towards the station, which will allow me to soak up some of the buzz of the city before I leave. This quickly proves to be a mistake, as every landmark I pass reminds me forcefully of my week of sightseeing with Jock. Although I’m fairly sure I’ve made the right move, whatever Reginald says, being back here does fill my heart with a pang of longing for him. At one point, I nearly take a picture of one of the places we visited and send it to him before I realise he’ll immediately wantto know why I’m in London, and I don’t want to have to explain my meeting with Emilio to him. I know it’s just business, but it feels like I’ve been unfaithful to him from a professional point of view.

Without intending it, I realise my route is taking me in the direction of Hotel Dufour and my curiosity kicks in, drawing me towards it like a magnet. When I get there, it’s surrounded by wooden hoarding and looks, if anything, even more unloved than The Mermaid. I stand outside for a while, trying to see if it stirs any emotion in me, but there’s nothing. When I lift my gaze to the top floor, my heart does quicken, but that’s only because I’m remembering Jock and nothing to do with the building. I’m just about to turn away when a door in the hoarding opens and a man in a hard hat comes out.

‘Excuse me?’ I ask him. ‘Are you able to tell me what the plan is for this building?’

He looks at me oddly for a second.

‘I used to work here, a long time ago,’ I explain. If he knows about Madame’s sideline, I hope the ‘long time ago’ will distance me from her.

‘Same as everywhere else,’ he says. ‘Retail outlets on the ground floor, offices and flats above.’

‘Thanks,’ I tell him. As I turn away, I realise I couldn’t be less interested in the fate of Hotel Dufour. Suddenly, I’m keen to get back to Margate and my new life as soon as possible, and I quicken my pace.

28

We’re a month into The Mermaid’s transformation and, so far, it’s gone relatively smoothly. There was one hiccup, where the council thought we were pressing ahead with the development of the flats and tried to close us down, but that was straightened out fairly easily. With Ella’s help, I’ve learned to navigate the project-planning software she likes, and we speak on the phone at least twice a week. John has also proved to be an unlikely ally. To begin with, I took exception to him calling me ‘darlin’’ in his rather dismissive way, but Ella told me he was just the same with her when she started, which I found oddly reassuring given how highly he obviously rates her now. It felt almost like a badge of honour when he bestowed my nickname on me after a couple of weeks, and I rang Ella straight away.

‘I’m Flopsy, although he’s already shortened it to Flops,’ I’d told her.

‘Go on. Give me the links,’ she’d laughed.

‘Beatrice took him to Beatrix Potter. Beatrix Potter wrote Peter Rabbit, whose sisters are Flopsy, Mopsy and Cotton-tail. He said he nearly went from Beatrix Potter to Harry Potter, but Hermione was too much of a mouthful.’

‘There are lots of other female characters in Harry Potter. Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Cho Chang, that French one that nearly drowned in the lake…’

‘I’m OK with Flopsy,’ I’d told her.

‘Is he being nicer to you now?’

‘He’s never been nasty, just a bit dismissive. But yes, he’s perked up. He’s actually really good at translating my ideas into instructions for the team to follow.’

‘He’s a dinosaur, but a benign one on the whole. I’m glad you’re getting on better with him.’

‘I am.’

Summer is now a long way behind us and the weather has turned, but thankfully the building is watertight again so we’re not held up by the rain. All the BudgetWise fixtures and fittings have been consigned to a series of skips, so we’re pretty much at the blank canvas stage where we can start to recreate some of The Mermaid’s original charm.

‘Flops, can I have a word?’ John asks after we’ve concluded the stand-up meeting that Ella suggested we had at the start of each day.

‘Sure. What’s up?’

‘I’ve been thinking about the floor in the lobby. I know we decided to leave the covering in place to prevent it getting damaged by stuff coming in and out, but we don’t actually know what state it’s in.’

‘You want to lift the plywood and have a look?’ I ask.

‘We could put it back down afterwards. I’m willing to bet that you can’t get those tiles any more, so any broken ones will have to be specially made. Of course, if most of them are broken, we might be looking at a whole new floor, and I’m sure you’d want to know about that sooner rather than later.’

‘I wouldn’t mind having a look at the mermaid mosaic,’ I admit. ‘That’s going to be a nightmare if it’s damaged.’

‘Shall I get a couple of chippies to come and lift the floor then?’

‘Yes, why not.’

I’ve never been on an archaeological dig, but the care with which the two woodworkers raise each panel of the plywood covering to reveal the tiled floor underneath reminds me of one. I half expect John to fish out one of those soft brushes and start gently sweeping the dirt off the tiles. There’s a gasp of excitement when they raise a panel to reveal a distinctly fishy tail and, by the time the final panel comes up to reveal the mermaid’s scantily clad torso and face, it feels like we’re all holding our breath.

‘That,’ observes John softly, ‘is a fucking work of art.’

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