The Belle Hotel by Craig Melvin

Author:Craig Melvin [Melvin, Craig]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781783526673
Publisher: Unbound
Published: 2018-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

Good Friday 2006

Midday

Tick-tock, everyone’s spending on the knock.

With a full restaurant for Easter Sunday and no way of paying Brampton’s Christmas bill, let alone finding the lolly for lamb he wanted up front, drastic action would need to be taken.

‘Right, fellas, you’ve got to get entrepreneurial. You’ve seen The Apprentice, think like Sir Alan. Fish, I need six hundred oysters. Meat, six sheep.’

‘But, what if?’

‘No use bleating to me. Fish, there’s a perfectly good powerboat sitting in Brighton Marina. All you need to do is get the thing going again, buy a fishing rod, net, whatever and bingo, let the oyster catching begin. Meat, I’m gonna throw you a lifeline. I’ll lend you the Jag. But if I even get a whiff of sheep shit when you bring it back, you’re sacked. Those bastards at Hotel Epicure are fully booked the whole weekend. Lulu and Graeme. Grey ham, more like. Right. Let’s go to work.’

Charlie turned up the volume on his Pioneer Hi-Fi and went back to chopping mint. Oasis blared from the one remaining speaker that had not fallen into the deep fat fryer. He’d given himself the hardest task. The mint had been growing under a patch of nettles in the caterer’s graveyard and Charlie had had a nasty couple of stings getting the green stuff out.

He sat with his back to Franco’s grave with the mint across his lap, scratching his hands.

‘Franco, old man. Grandad. If you can hear me, I’m sorry; I’ve really fucked things up. I’m not as strong as you. Know what, I’ve not even got the cash for mint sodding sauce. I’ll be nicking vinegar from the chip shop on the way back. Do you remember how we used to do Easter? Back in the good old days? You out front, me out back. Christ, I miss you, Franco. And I’m letting everyone down. I just, just can’t stop myself. I know, I know… stop yer blubbering, pull yourself together, we Sheridans don’t cry. I’m screwing up, Grandad, and I get so, so, angry. Keep thinking I’m gonna lash out and won’t be able to stop myself. Do some real harm. We just… find it so hard without you. And now Lulu’s stuck the knife in. Trying to say you’re not my grandad. She’s gone to work with the enemy, too. Are you listening, Franco? I love you, you old bastard. There, I’ve said it. Right, back to work. Lunch isn’t going to cook itself.’

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