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"A New Beginning"


Chapter 1
The girls are back!

By alexisleech

My last book ‘Let’s Talk Dirty,’ ends with Karen getting back together with her husband, Jenny happily living with her vet, and Laura meeting her long distance friend in the flesh for the first time. Laura has bought The Bedford, the hotel Karen and Jenny worked in, and after she makes them shareholders, and they wave goodbye to their horrible ex-boss, they all set out to make it a success and put their chat line days behind them…







Jenny looked over at George while he slept on the sofa. Although an attractive man, it was not an attractive sight, especially when you took in the cheek rippling effect of his snoring. Her wonderful lover had turned into a couch potato, and she’d had enough. His cat, Jasper, who had come between them since George brought him to her house, flexed his paws slowly while he blinked back at Jenny with the superior haughtiness a cat radiates so well. ‘Loser!’ he seemed to say with one languid move of his eyeballs, before he lay on his side and snuggled back into his master's chest.

     Jenny stared back at the scene before her like an adversary silently viewing the enemy. When George moved in, she was convinced he was the one. For the first time in her life, she had a partner who didn’t want to go out with the ‘boys’ every weekend. Someone who wanted only her; well, at least in the beginning. He’d convinced her she was the most important thing in his life - until the bloody cat arrived. Now? Well, it was like some kind of payback for the wonderful three months before George and all his possessions were unloaded from his Land Rover. What had happened to the fun times? The time when having a ‘duvet’ day under any pretext was the norm? The time when she felt loved and content for the first time in years.

     No, this wasn’t the way she’d envisioned their life together at all. Jasper now ruled the roost. At his side when George fell asleep on the sofa every evening, and pawing him awake before four o’clock every morning, his meowing louder than any alarm clock. Jenny appreciated that George was likely to be tired because he worked so hard as a vet, but in the months preceding Jasper’s arrival, when George had stayed over, they’d always had a cuddle in the morning before they got up to get ready for work. It was a bonding time that reaffirmed how much they loved each other.

     Not anymore. Once Jasper started his noisy onslaught, George would be wide awake. He’d then go down to the kitchen to make himself a coffee and watch the news, only returning upstairs to have his shower and tiptoe around the bedroom while he got dressed. Because he started work an hour before Jenny, he often brought her a cup of tea before he left. But by then Jenny was past caring. Another broken night’s sleep was the last thing she needed after working with Laura at the Bedford all day while they organised the refurbishment of the twelve bedrooms.

     ‘It’s only until he settles in,’ George had claimed when Jenny suggested Jasper should be put in the kitchen every night with her King Charles spaniel, Katie, and his adorable golden retriever, Brody.

     Yeah, right. That was a month ago, and Jenny’s constant requests to eliminate the little monster from their bedroom were still being ignored. She had to accept she made a mistake in not putting her foot down earlier. The cat had to be banned from their bedroom, or she and George were history….

 

**********
 
 
Laura waved goodbye to Jack after he got into the taxi before it drove off. It had been an interesting couple of days, but she was glad he was gone. Having it confirmed that she was his second choice on his newly awakened romantic pursuit of a partner didn’t bode well, and she’d suggested he leave when she realised how much that thought upset her. There was never any chance of them getting together anyway. She was now living in the city, which, due to the inclement British weather, was often under grey skies. Jack was a true outdoor American who loved nothing better than being out in the fresh air, backpack donned, preferably with a rifle in his hand so he could go hunting. He was a hell of a nice guy, and he had been a great long-distance friend on Skype since she was widowed, but she now knew it would never amount to anything else.

     What she had to do now was concentrate on business. She was determined to make a success of the Bedford, the hotel she’d bought with the money she’d initially made from her internet friendship sites. With the restaurant opening that evening, there was still a lot to do. Her friend, Karen, had cooked up a storm for the last day or two. That is, when she wasn’t at home getting loved up with her recently returned husband. Laura still smiled when she thought about the night she got them back together after their eighteen month separation. If she genuinely thought Karen didn’t love Mark, Laura wouldn’t have interfered, but the conversation they'd had when Karen stayed at the hotel after her disastrous date with Mark, convinced her she did.

     Life was now a far cry from the days when she, Karen and Jenny, had worked for different chat lines. She had money in the bank, a hotel she knew her friends and partners would help make a success, and friendship sites all over the world that not only helped lonely people who unexpectedly found themselves alone, but gave her and her son, Paul, a good income. She didn’t need a man in her life anymore. Now fifty-eight, Laura resigned herself to a life on her own. She had been lucky to enjoy nearly thirty wonderful years with her late husband, Colin. She now appreciated that those memories would probably have to keep her warm for the rest of her days….

 
**********
 
    
Karen stretched her arms above her head in an effort to wake up. The last two nights had been wonderful, and at times highly amusing. Although Mark still didn’t know she’d been working for a chat line for the latter part of their separation, the experience had made her more adventurous in the bedroom department. She’d caught Mark staring at her in amazement a couple of times while they made love, but his belief that she had a lover while they were apart, had given him good reason to believe Karen’s new found expertise was as a result of that. Karen had considered telling Mark the truth about her imaginary lover, but there was no other way she could explain away the noises that not only Mark, but her children had overheard when she was working for the chat line in her bedroom. Secondly, she was aware that it had also made Mark feel less guilty because he'd had a ‘real’ affair three months after he left her. So, for the time being, Karen decided to keep schtum about her imaginary ex lover.

     As Mark stirred and reached out for her, Karen snuggled back down on his shoulder.

     ‘Good morning, beautiful,’ he groaned as his arms engulfed her. ‘Would you like a sneaky peek at Stiffy?’

     Karen giggled as she lifted up the duvet to see what was on offer. Her ‘morning man’ had come back with a vengeance. It was just like the days before the kids arrived, when the need to attend to the practicalities of getting a family washed, dressed and fed was a priority.

     ‘Maybe…’ she teased. ‘But it’ll have to be a quickie because I promised Laura I wouldn’t be late again. She’s stressing out about the restaurant opening tonight.’

     She was silenced with a kiss.

     ‘No problem,’ Mark chuckled, before he pulled the duvet over their heads….
 

Author Notes As regular reviewers of my last book 'Let's Talk Dirty,' know, I decided to use the first three chapters I posted for 'The Bedford,' my follow up book, as the new ending for 'Let's Talk Dirty.' Hence the title of this book 'A new Beginning'--in every sense of the word! Thank you for your patience while I worked it out.


Chapter 2
Ready For Action

By alexisleech

















Twenty minutes before the restaurant opened for the first time, Laura stood behind the reception desk and surveyed the transformation before her. It might have taken six weeks, but all the effort, all the sheer dogged determination she, Karen and Jenny had put in to change the Bedford into a first class, bijoux hotel, had at last paid off.

     With its new lighting, carpet and exquisitely elegant drapes, the reception area exuded class without being overstated. The old, built-in, veneered reception desk had been replaced with a huge, cream partner’s desk which, being made from three parts, could be disassembled and stored in the small office behind it if the area had to be cleared for a function. Because it had a chair on either side, the desk invited guests to sit down and chat to whoever was on the other side if there was anything they needed to talk about. It had already proved invaluable when anyone came in to discuss booking the Bedford for a function, because it meant Laura could keep an eye on the reception while they did.

     The residents’ Lounge, separated from the reception area by two huge, arched, cream and gold doors, could be opened up to unite the two spaces, something that was essential if they were going to hold bigger functions. Similarly with the dining room. The matching carpet followed through so that when its adjacent double doors were folded back, a huge area was created that could host over a hundred and thirty people. With four weddings of different sizes already booked for July, Laura had planned the refurbishment meticulously.

     The original oak-panelled bar in the residents’ lounge had remained the same, but all the built-in seating was replaced with informal, upholstered armchairs and stools, which were grouped around the room in a way that left enough space for guests to chat easily, but not be overheard by the next table. The new barman, Dominic, had spent all afternoon polishing the glasses till they shone, before getting changed into the silk, striped, waistcoat, cream shirt and black slacks Laura had bought him the previous day. His past experience at the Hilton would serve him well. There wasn’t a cocktail Dominic didn’t know how to make, and his handsome, cheery face was just what Laura had been looking for when she interviewed the dozen or so applicants.

     Knowing all the bedrooms were completely refurbished was also a weight off Laura’s mind. Jenny had done well organising everything without turning any guests away. She’d systematically moved in the team of decorators five minutes after a guest checked out of whichever room would be vacant that night, so it would be ready to rent out again the following day. That way, they only ever had one room out of commission at any one time. The bedding was the same for every room, with the exception of the bridal suite, now a luxurious, romantic haven. Instead of the previous owner’s mix of different duvets and sheets in every room, the linen was now all crisp, white cotton, with elegant quilted throws that matched the light-block blinds and drapes.

     ‘That’s one hell of a conceited grin, if I ever saw one!’ Karen chuckled as she approached the reception desk wearing her freshly donned chef’s jacket and checked trousers. ‘Are we ready to wow everyone with the new-look Bedford?’

     ‘I’m ready if you are,’ Laura told her. ‘How’s it going in the kitchen?’

     Karen gave her an exhausted, albeit confident smile. ‘Pretty good. My Sous chef seems to be coping, and the KP has at last worked out how to use the dishwasher. It’s like waiting for the birth of a baby now... without the contractions!’

     Her analogy made Laura giggle. She looked at the clipboard with the list of the things they needed to have done before the first diners arrived. Everything was ticked off. With fourteen of the eighteen tables booked from seven onwards, she didn’t doubt it would be a stressful evening, especially for Karen, but at this point they were up to speed. ‘Well, I can’t think of anything else, can you?’

     ‘Nope,’ Karen confirmed with a shake of her head. ‘Have you taken any more bookings since I checked in an hour ago?’

     ‘Only one, but it makes sense to keep a couple of tables free in case any of the guests who still have to check in want dinner. I don’t want us to have to turn them away just because we’re fully booked.’

     After a quick check of her watch, Karen took a deep breath and prepared to return to the kitchen. ‘Time for action stations, methinks,’ she decided, before giving Laura a high five. ‘Wish me luck!’

     Laura knew ‘luck’ didn’t enter into the equation. She might have been a housewife all her life, but Karen’s culinary expertise was legendary.

     In keeping with the words usually said to an actor before their first performance, she told Karen to break a leg instead...

    


Chapter 3
Disaster Strikes!

By alexisleech

 
















Nothing could have prepared Laura for the disaster that ensued after the first dinner guests arrived at seven. When Karen’s daughter, Michelle, came running through to the reception and told her to call for an ambulance, Laura momentarily froze to the spot.

     ‘What’s happened?' she cried out to Michelle’s back as she disappeared through the opened dining room doors as fast as she’d come through them.

     With the thought of blood and carnage racing through her head, Laura picked up the phone to call 999, just as Igor, Karen’s recently appointed Polish, Sous chef, burst through the kitchen door and ran across the empty dining room towards the reception area.

     ‘It not my fault… it not my fault!’ he screeched at Laura as soon as he reached the desk.

     Being used to hotel dramas, and the sometimes frenetic staff she and her husband had employed when they ran their hotel for three years, Laura put her hand up in the air to silence him. ‘’What’s not your fault… and why do I need to call an ambulance?’

     As though he’d burnt his fingers, Igor was shaking his hands in front of him like a pair of demented window wipers. ‘It for Karen… she falling over!’ he ranted, before turning tail towards the bar as though his life depended on it. Much to the amusement of the two couples who were studying the menu while they had a cocktail, he then loudly demanded a ‘doubling, bluedy brandy’ from Dominic, the barman.

     With his chef’s hat now sitting at a ridiculously, precarious angle, he headed back for the kitchen as fast as he could. ‘For the bluedy pain!’ he yelped, as he shot past Laura with the glass held up in the air.

    Laura put the phone down and tried to work out how she could escape the reception desk for a minute to see how serious Karen’s fall was, when Jenny and George walked through the front doors. Although her work was done for the day in housekeeping, Jenny wanted to be around in case she was needed when the restaurant opened. Fortunately, George had come with her.

     ‘Thank God!’ Laura groaned when she saw them. ‘Can you take over while I go to the kitchen, Jenny? Apparently Karen’s had a fall and she might need an ambulance.’

     The look that passed between them said it all. Of course Karen was their first priority, but if she had to go to hospital, the next obvious concern was how they could open the restaurant without their chef.

     ‘Do you want me to have a look at her?’ George asked.

     Jenny scowled back at him. The argument they’d had on the way over had left her seething. He still maintained that Jasper needed a few more days to settle in before he was booted out of their bedroom.

     ‘You’re a bloody vet, George… she needs a doctor!' she snapped at him.

     ‘I’ll have you know—‘

      Laura interrupted him by grabbing his arm.

     ‘A bloody vet can be very handy when there’s not a doctor about!’ he threw back over his shoulder as Laura propelled him towards the kitchen.

     Laura just prayed that Karen hadn’t broken her leg, especially as that was what she suggested she did instead of wishing her luck fifteen minutes earlier. Hopefully it wouldn’t be anything serious, and George could save the day. If it was possible to get Karen back on her feet, they were still in with a chance of opening the restaurant, albeit a little later than expected.

     That turned out to be wishful thinking. Karen was propped up against the kitchen wall, her left ankle swollen, her voice hysterical. ‘You stupid, Polish idiot!’ she berated the visibly trembling Igor.

     Laura rushed to her side before crouching down beside her. ‘What happened?’ she asked. Short of deliberately tripping Karen up, she couldn’t imagine how it could be Igor’s fault.

     ‘The plonker only spilt cooking oil on the floor and didn’t tell me!’ Karen barked in Igor’s direction.

     His hands went up in the air and started to swish rapidly again. ‘No, no, no! I try to tell her… She no listen...’

     Karen let out a yelp as George knelt down in front of her and started to examine her ankle. ‘You warned me in Polish, you moron!' she retaliated over George’s shoulder. ‘How the hell was I supposed to understand you?’

     George tried to calm her down as he used both hands to assess the damage. If he could manage it with the irate Rottweilers that came to his surgery on a regular basis, hopefully, Karen should be a piece of cake. ‘It sounds as though it was just an accident,’ he told her in a calm, measured voice. ‘What we have to do now is get you to the hospital for an X-ray. I can’t feel any broken bones, but that’s the only way we’ll know for sure.’

     Karen was having none of it. She’d waited for this moment since her successful St Valentine’s dinner at the Bedford three months ago, and she wasn’t going to let anything, or anybody stop her now. The desserts and garnished starter plates were ready and waiting in the walk-in chiller, and just as they had done on St. Valentines, everything was cooked and keeping warm in the Bain Marie or oven. With the exception of the things that had to be warmed, fried, sautéed or microwaved, there was very little to do but plate up the food artistically, something she’d already instructed Igor on for hours. If she could just keep going until all the main courses were served, she knew he and Michelle could handle the desserts.

     ‘What can I do to get through the next couple of hours?’ she pleaded, her anger forgotten in her need to achieve her dream.

     Realising she wouldn’t budge on the subject of going to hospital immediately, George stood up and asked Laura if they had any packets of frozen peas. When she rummaged around and found one in the freezer, he wrapped it in a tea towel before moulding it around Karen’s ankle. He was about to ask if Laura had any pain killers, when he noticed Igor spinning through the kitchen door with what looked like another very large brandy. Assuming it was for Karen, he decided she didn't need any more pain relief. Finally, he asked Laura if she had a padded mat Karen could sit on so she could still keep her leg elevated but off the cold, tiled floor.

     Within ten minutes they were ready for action again. Karen was now propped up on a single mattress from the store room; Laura had exchanged her black cocktail dress for a chef’s jacket and trousers, and her heels for a sensible pair of trainers. She would become Karen’s ‘hands’ for the evening, and along with Igor, the KP, and Michelle, be instructed by a chef who delivered commands with a ferocity that made Gordon Ramsey look like a pussycat.

     It turned out to be an evening none of them would ever forget…
 

Author Notes Jasper is George's cat, and he's been causing problems since George moved in with Jenny over a month ago.
A KP is a kitchen porter. His job is to load the dishwasher, keep the sink area clear, and mop down the floors at the end of the evening.

999 is the emergency number you call in the UK



Chapter 4
The Calm After The Storm

By alexisleech

Within ten minutes they were ready for action again. Karen was now propped up on a single mattress from the store room, and Laura had exchanged her black cocktail dress for a chef’s jacket and trousers. She would become Karen’s ‘hands’ for the evening, and along with Igor, the KP, and Michelle, would be instructed by a chef who delivered commands with a ferocity that made Gordon Ramsey look like a pussycat.







Four hours later.

Laura swivelled around the mattress Karen had held court from before she left for A & E, so it ran parallel with the unit free wall in the kitchen. With Igor and Michelle on either side of her, they sank down with their legs stretched out before them. It had been one hell of a night, and it was now time to relax and take the weight off their feet. Like zombies, they all stared ahead while Ted, the KP, mopped the floor around them so he could finish for the night.

     ‘I can’t believe we pulled that off…’ Michelle admitted before taking a swig from her glass.

     The bottle of red wine usually used for Karen’s sauces was clutched in Igor’s left hand.

     ‘I think we do good,’ he decided with a satisfied grin. ‘You want more?’ he asked Laura when he held up the bottle.

     Laura shook her head. She just wanted to sit there for a few minutes more as the events of the evening played through her head. She still couldn’t believe they’d pulled it off either. When Karen had her accident, she thought they’d have to turn away all the diners who had booked for the restaurant opening, but thanks to Karen’s forward planning, and a team effort that could only be likened to an athletic relay, against all odds, they got every plate out looking and tasting superb.  

     Igor turned to Laura with a sad smile. ‘I think Karen still hate me though...’  

     A snort escaped Laura’s lips when she remembered how Karen had harangued the poor Polish chef all evening. ‘Come on, you Polish plonker!’ she had shouted at him from her throne on the floor. ‘Shift your arse!’ The three double brandies Karen had to numb the pain hadn’t numbed her sarcasm. Believing Igor was the one who nearly ruined the evening by dropping oil on the floor before she fell, made her feel justified in making him her whipping-boy for the night.

     Laura patted his knee as she turned to him.

     ‘You were a star, Igor. Considering the circumstances, you did really well... honestly! Karen doesn’t hate you. As I helped her into Mark’s car, before he took her to A & E, she told me to tell you how impressed she was.'

     Igor's face lit up with a radiant smile. ‘She did! She say that?’ 
      
     Well, not exactly, but Laura realised how important Karen’s opinion of him was, and she’d given him such a hard time, Laura decided to embellish the ‘tell the Polish plonker he might not be sacked after all,’ to something more encouraging. Laura didn’t doubt Karen would make Igor suffer a bit more after she got back, but there was no question about it, he was an excellent Sous chef. After each dish was put on the counter under the warming lights, he set to work making it look like a delectable masterpiece with glazes, garnishes, and delicately drizzled sauces. However cross Karen was with him for spilling the oil, she’d be an idiot to get rid of him.

     ‘It’s just a severe sprain!’ Mark announced when he popped his head around the kitchen door after he’d taken Karen home. ‘The doctor’s strapped up her ankle and told her to keep her weight off it for a day or so, but he says she’s going to be just fine.’

     All three of them let out a sigh of relief. Laura didn’t doubt they could cope for another couple of days without Karen, but anything longer would be impossible.

     Michelle stood up and went to retrieve her jacket and bag from the staff toilet behind the kitchen so she could get a lift home with her father. When she returned, she gave both Laura and Igor a hug before saying goodnight. After she left, Laura also decided it was time to call it a day.

     ‘Are you sure you’re up to doing breakfast on your own tomorrow, Igor?’ she asked as she tried to stifle a yawn. ‘I can always come down and give you a hand.’

     He assured he was. With just twenty-two guests in the hotel, it was an easy job for one person.

     ‘I just need key,’ he told Laura after she stood up.

      Laura didn’t understand. ‘What key?’

     Igor jumped up and pointed to the key in kitchen door that led to the carpark.

      ‘If I have key, then I can lock door when I go, and open in the morning. You no need to bother.’

     Laura thought that was an excellent idea. Jenny wouldn’t be in till seven to man the reception desk, so it meant she wouldn’t have to come down from the staff flat at the top of the building just to let him in.

     ‘No problem,’ she agreed. ‘Why don’t you chill out for a bit and enjoy what’s left of the wine before you go home? You certainly deserve it after tonight.’

     Igor looked grateful. ‘You very kind,’ he told her before saying goodnight.

     After she’d gone, Igor put the bottle of wine back on the shelf before picking up the mattress from the kitchen floor and dragging it through to the dry store. He then pulled his secreted rucksack and sleeping bag out from behind the rack of spare dining chairs, and pulled out his bottle of Polish vodka. Laura’s offer had been very kind, but after the night he’d had, a glass of his homeland nectar was required.

     ‘Witaj w domu,’ he toasted under his breath after he poured some into his glass.

     If he'd lost his job at the Bedford, his new life in the UK would be over. The fact that he didn't have a home would have to remain his secret for now. If Karen found out he was actually living in the dry store, God knows what she might do to him...

 

Author Notes 'Witaj w domu' means 'Welcome home' in Polish.

KP; Kitchen Porter


Chapter 5
Monday Blues

By alexisleech

















Jenny let out a groan as loud as the frantic mewing outside their bedroom door. She and George had reached a compromise the night before when he’d reluctantly agreed to her shutting the door with Jasper on the other side. Jenny had hoped he might settle downstairs after she placed his bed and cat litter in the hallway, but no. From three-thirty onwards, the cries that sounded as though he was being hung, drawn and quartered, filtered through to the bedroom as loudly as when he was still in it.

     ‘George!’ Jenny hissed at her seemingly comatose lover. Sleeping through that racket defied belief. ‘If you don’t shut that bloody cat up, I swear I’ll throw him out the window!’

     That did it. Within ten seconds George had shaken himself awake, leapt from the bed, and grabbed the screeching Jasper before taking him downstairs. Jenny didn’t doubt he would stay down there until it was time for him to get ready to go to work, but at least she could get a couple more hours sleep before she got up at six. What had started as an irritation had turned into a war, and she certainly wasn’t going to back down now…

 

**********
 

When Laura woke up just after seven, she decided to relax for a while because Jenny had kindly offered to look after the reception desk so she could have the day off; her first since they took over the hotel six weeks ago. It had been an exhausting weekend. With a full dining room on both Saturday and Sunday evening, they had muddled through the best they could with Karen parked on the mattress so she could keep her leg elevated while she barked instructions. The decision to shut the restaurant on Monday and Tuesday turned out to be a life-saver. Igor had offered to be on hand to supply room service, and Gerry, the barman who covered Dominic’s two nights off, would not only man the bar, but keep an eye on the reception desk until all of the guests had retired for the night.  

      Deciding that a cup of tea was needed, Laura made her way through to the kitchen in her flat. It was a strange feeling being on her own again after sharing an apartment with her son for three years. He had been her buffer; someone to talk to after the loss of her husband turned her into a recluse. Laura was glad he had a life of his own now. He and Michelle, Karen’s daughter, had been going out for five months, and they seemed to be getting closer by the day. Laura didn’t doubt their relationship would blossom further. On the face of it, they seemed to be made for each other, and she and Karen couldn’t resist speculating about the possibility of wedding bells.

     ‘Well, at least they’d save a fortune if they have it here,’ Karen decided when she and Laura discussed it over coffee the week before. ‘I can’t think of a better wedding present than us pulling out all the stops and giving them a day to remember.’

     Laura hoped she was right. Seeing Paul settled down with a girl as lovely as Michelle was every mother’s dream. Yes, she missed seeing him every day, but it was time for him to move on, as it was for her. The trouble was, apart from working fifteen hours a day, six days a week in the hotel, Laura wasn’t sure if her life would be anything but that for the foreseeable future. Her endless chats with Jack on Skype had been another buffer since Colin died, but that indulgence was no longer an option. With no Jack or Paul to talk to, her life was a man-free zone for the first time in her life, and she didn't like it. In fact, the thought nearly reduced her to tears as she sat clutching her cup of tea at the kitchen table. She decided to cheer herself up by pulling out the piece of paper she didn’t even know existed until the day she cleared out Colin’s bedside cabinet the night before she moved to the Bedford. She would have sorted it out before, but the thought of Colin's personal things still being on the opposite side of the bed had given her comfort. Laura found the bit of paper folded around a picture of them on holiday, the year before he died.

      I will always love you, he’d written, followed with his initial and a kiss. It was as though he’d known in advance he would die first, and he wanted to leave something behind to assure her that her love for him had always been reciprocated. She’d cried for hours after she found it, but it now gave Laura strength whenever she felt the loneliness and heartbreak of losing her best friend and lover…

 
**********
 
 
Igor sucked in his stomach as he climbed out of the swimming pool. He might only weigh a hundred and fifty pounds, but his recent lack of physical exercise, on top of testing all the delicious dishes Karen experimented with before the restaurant opened, had resulted in a small pot where his flat stomach had been before. Hopefully the swimming, plus his recent strenuous activities in the kitchen, would make it disappear.

     After he grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist, Igor set off for the men’s’ changing rooms. There might be a staff toilet and wash basin at the back of the kitchen in the Bedford, but he needed a shower. The communal swimming baths, which were a good half hour’s walk away from the hotel, was the only way he could have one. Until he got paid at the end of the month, he couldn’t even consider the idea of looking for a place of his own. By offering to hang around the kitchen in case any of the guests wanted room service in the evening, he had at least given himself a legitimate reason to be in the hotel before he settled down for the night in the dry store. Laura usually went up to her flat as soon as all of the guests were booked in, so Igor had no problem concealing his nightly charade of pretending to ‘go home.’

     After he’d showered, Igor set off for the library, his second sanctuary when he wasn’t working a shift at the hotel. Paying for his membership to the pool, and finding places to hang out during the day, had drained what little money he had left, so going to a café wasn’t an option. He could go and visit his Uncle Fabek, but the thought of bumping into Mazeija, his seriously obese step-cousin, made Igor tremble more than the image of Karen screaming at him across the kitchen. The sex-mad, man-eater had made his first two weeks in the UK unbearable by sneaking into his room every night and pinning him to his bed with the agility of a Sumo wrestler. Sadly, the fact that he couldn’t perform to order hadn’t put Mazeija off. She still snuggled up to him before she fell asleep, then snored through the night while Igor hung onto the edge of his bed.

     Yes, getting the job at the Bedford had been a Godsend, and allowed him to escape from the nightly assaults by claiming that free accommodation was included in his contract. Hiding in the hotel dry store wasn’t ideal, but it was a lot better than what he’d left behind…


 
**********
 

Karen let out a sigh as she looked around the kitchen. She was seriously bored. The excitement of the last six weeks leading up to the opening of the restaurant had left her without a minute to herself. Now it was open, and everyone had raved about the food, it was almost as though she had nothing to look forward to. God knows what she was going to do with the two days off Laura had insisted on. Although her ankle seemed to be fine now, she was loath to put her weight on it too much, so she couldn’t even go for a walk. The house was spotless, the laundry all done, and a lasagne she’d made the week before was defrosting for their evening meal. Mark and the kids wouldn’t be back from work for another four hours, and she was at a loss as to what she could do in the time in-between.

     For the first time since she’d gone on a diet and lost forty pounds, Karen opened the cupboard in the corner of the kitchen with the sole intention of retrieving the half bottle of brandy she’d vowed not to touch until all the weight had gone. Although she’d only taken it for the pain on Friday night, the three double brandies Igor had brought her from the bar, not only reminded her how nice it tasted, but the lovely, numbing sensation that followed. Surely a small dash in her coffee wouldn’t hurt?

     After deliberating the question for a couple of seconds, she reached up and took the bottle off the shelf…  
 


Chapter 6
Introducing Patsy

By alexisleech

















Laura decided to call a meeting on Wednesday afternoon. Now Karen was back after her two days off, they could discuss the success of the restaurant opening the previous weekend, and work out how to ensure that success continued. With the exception of one complaint from a diner who said his food wasn’t hot enough, there had been nothing but praise for everything that came out of the kitchen. Laura didn’t doubt that was only because Igor was the only person capable of ‘dressing’ each dish after it had been plated up. With Karen back on her feet, Laura didn’t imagine it would be a problem in the future.

     As soon as Jenny finished in housekeeping, and Karen and Igor arrived, they all settled in the group of chairs situated in the corner across from the reception desk. That way, Laura could still check in any guests who arrived while they talked.

     'So, how’s your ankle, Karen?’ Jenny asked. ‘No permanent damage, I hope.’

     Although she was tempted to add ‘no thanks to Igor,’ Karen assured Jenny it was fine.

     As though he could hear what she was thinking, Igor looked up from his nervously clasped hands with a pleading look. ‘I sorry, Karen…’ he muttered, his brown, puppy-dog eyes begging forgiveness.

     Karen immediately melted. The guy might have nearly ruined the restaurant opening with his stupidity, but as George had reminded her, it was just an accident. She put down her half drunk mug of coffee and attempted to make peace.

     ‘It’s okay, Igor. I’ve had plenty of time to calm down over the last couple of days, so we’ll forget it for now. Just promise me one thing…’

     Igor’s face lit up. ‘Anythink!’ he begged. ‘I want be your freend, not your plonker.’

     Karen cringed when she remembered the tirade of abuse she’d subjected Igor to over the weekend. Knowing what she knew now, she blamed her nastiness on the brandy she’d taken for the pain. After she’d taken the bottle out of the cupboard in her kitchen on Monday afternoon, she poured it down the sink. There was no way she was going back to the days when she got bitter and twisted after drinking too much of the stuff.

     ‘Learn the phrase I’ve spilt oil on the floor!  Okay?’

     ‘I speel oil on floor!’ Igor announced triumphantly.

     ‘Spill!’ Karen repeated.

     ‘Speel!’ Igor mimicked confidently.

     Jenny and Laura were in tucks of laughter. They knew they shouldn’t, but after a week of trying to decipher Igor’s version of the English language, it was almost as though he was doing it deliberately to amuse them.

     ‘That’ll do,’ Karen decided, her own lips beginning to twitch. ‘Speel, it is…’

     Laura let out a sigh of relief. Telling Igor that Karen was very impressed with him in the kitchen was a little white lie that had troubled her all weekend. Knowing Karen forgave him meant they could all get on with their jobs and move on.

     ‘One of the things I’d like to address at this meeting is how we all get some time off,’ she told them. ‘I, for one, need to get out of here occasionally, and so do all of you. I know we all had to work flat-out before the restaurant opened, but now that it has, we have to decide when it’s viable to have it open and still make a profit. Do you guys think it should be open during the week?’

     Karen shook her head. Her two days off had made her realise how little she’d seen Mark and Tony, her son. Because her daughter, Michelle was helping them in the kitchen until they found a permanent replacement, she’d at least seen her, but it wasn’t what you’d call quality time, especially after what happened on the night the restaurant opened.

     ‘I don’t think so,’ she told them. ‘I don't mind working my arse off at the weekends, but I can't see there being enough business during the week to justify the expense of opening. The only problem is, what can we do for the residents? It might be mostly single occupancy during the week because it’s usually businessmen, but that still means we’re sending between twelve and twenty-four people out to eat elsewhere.’

     Laura nodded in agreement. ‘It also reduces business in the bar. Our takings last night didn’t even cover Gerry’s wages. How did you get on with room service, Igor?’

     ‘I have eight orderings!’ he advised her triumphantly. ‘Three with boutle of vine.’

     That at least explained the low bar takings. The guests couldn’t be in two places at once.

     'So what’s the answer?’ asked Jenny. ‘I don’t mind covering the reception for a couple of days during the week because we don’t have many changeovers, but Friday, Saturday and Sunday are full-on, especially when the weddings start next month.’

     Igor put his hand up like an impatient child asking if he could talk. ‘Why not you have restaurant in bar during week. It save having to take food to rooms.’

     All three of them stared back at him with their mouths open. ‘What a brilliant idea!’ Laura said. ‘We could offer the room service menu in the bar so the residents are likely to have a drink as well.’

     The smile on Karen’s face dropped after a moment. ‘But that means we’ll have to take on another member of staff. I was hoping to be off during the week. I certainly don’t fancy hanging about the kitchen all night waiting for orders that might not arrive.’

     Igor’s hand shot up in the air again. ‘I do cook. I do it for two nights… every people happy!’

     Momentarily silenced by his offer, Laura shook her head. ‘But when would you get any time off, Igor? You can’t work seven days a week, and we certainly can’t do without you at the weekend.’

     Igor’s gaze dropped to his hands again. If they only knew…

     ‘I no mind,’ he told them when he looked up again. ‘I no need day off…’

     The way he said it concerned Karen. Why wouldn’t he want a day off? ‘I thought you stayed with your uncle. Do you not want to spend some time with your family?’

     His reaction left them in no doubt that he didn’t. ‘I no like it there. I rather be here—‘

     He was interrupted when the front door opened and a middle-aged woman with salt and pepper hair, and seriously out-of-date, winged glasses, almost fell through it as she pulled an old-fashioned, leather suitcase behind her.

     ‘Oops!’ she giggled to herself. ‘That was close, Patsy. We don’t want to fall over now, do we?’

     Jenny and the others strained their necks to see who she was talking to. Having straightened herself up and eyeballed the reception desk, the woman continued to chat away to her seemingly invisible companion as she hauled the old battered suitcase in front of it.

     ‘I hope I’m not too early,’ she pondered out loud. ‘I’m dying for a piddle...’

     Laura shot up from her seat and reached the desk just as the woman was about to ting the brass bell.

     ‘Welcome to the Bedford,’ she greeted her with a smile. ‘M… iss?’

     The woman nearly jumped out of her skin because she hadn’t noticed them sitting in the corner behind her. After she let go of the red and green tartan scarf she’d momentarily clutched in fright, she let out a snort.

     ‘Oh my goodness,’ she gasped. ‘I nearly wet myself! Miss Simpson’s my name, but I’d rather you called me Patsy.’

     Laura looked over her shoulder and saw Karen pulling a face as she circled her finger to the side of her head. 'Nutter!' she mouthed silently, which earned her a poke in the ribs from Jenny. Yes, the woman did look a bit strange in her oversized, black raincoat, but more in an eccentric kind of way. Whether she was actually a 'nutter' or not, would no doubt be confirmed in the next few days because Laura saw from the guest list that she was staying for a week.
 
     ‘Welcome, Mi… Patsy. I see you’ve booked our ground floor room,’ Laura confirmed when she looked up from the list. ‘Eh, would you like a hand with your luggage?’ she asked after she handed Patsy the key to her room.

     Igor jumped to his feet and came over to the reception desk. ‘I take for you,’ he offered.

     Patsy nearly jumped out of her skin for a second time. ‘Oh laudy, nearly another accident!’ she declared as she twisted one leg in front of the other and bent her knees. ‘You people don’t have much respect for a woman’s bladder, do you?’

     With the thought of the beautiful new, taupe coloured carpet foremost in her mind, Laura ushered Patsy through to her room. Igor followed, but only after he nearly ripped his arm out of its socket when he picked up Patsy’s case…
  
 

 

Author Notes
Yes, the spelling in conversations with Igor is deliberate. Remember he's Polish!

Change-overs are when a guest leaves and the room has to be thoroughly cleaned, as well as having new bed linen and towels.

The Bedford; A twelve bedroomed hotel near the city centre.

Laura; A fifty-seven year old widow who buys the hotel after making a small fortune from her internet friendship sites.
Jenny; A fifty-six year old divorcee who's recently let love back into her life.
Karen; A fifty-five year old mother of two who hadn't worked a day in her life until her husband left her because of her addiction to brandy and her spiralling weight. They are now back together.
Igor; A thirty-two year old Polish chef who is secretly staying in the hotel's dry store because his over-amorous step-cousin's nightly onslaughts make it impossible for him to stay at his uncle's house.
George; A fifty-four year old vet who's just moved in with Jenny
Michelle; Karen's twenty-three year old daughter.
Tony; Karen's twenty-two year old son
Paul; Laura's twenty-six year old son who runs her friendship sites for her.
Dominic; the Bedford Barman.
Gerry; The barman who covers Dominic's two nights off, and also helps at weekends.
Patsy: A new and rather eccentric guest...


Chapter 7
Caught In A Time Warp

By alexisleech

















‘Welcome, Mi… Patsy. I see you’ve booked our ground floor room for a week,’ Laura confirmed when she looked up from the  guest list. ‘Eh, would you like a hand with your luggage?’ she asked after she handed Patsy her key.

     Igor jumped to his feet and came over to the reception desk. ‘I take for you,’ he offered.

     Patsy nearly jumped out of her skin for a second time. ‘Oh laudy, nearly another accident!’ she declared as she twisted one leg in front of the other and bent her knees. ‘You people don’t have much respect for a woman’s bladder, do you?’

     With the thought of the beautiful new, taupe coloured carpet foremost in her mind, Laura ushered Patsy through to her room. Igor followed, but only after he nearly ripped his arm out of its socket when he picked up Patsy’s case…

 
 
 
Laura chuckled to herself as she listened to Patsy having yet another full-blown, one-sided conversation in the residents’ lounge.

     ‘If you didn’t like the sausages, you should have said something.’

     ‘But if they don’t know you only like pork sausages, it’s not their fault!’

     ‘Really?’

     ‘Of course. They probably don’t serve pork sausages in case any of the guests are Jewish. It stands to reason.’

     ‘So what do I do about it?’

     Silence followed for a few seconds while Patsy considered the question.

     ‘Why don’t you talk to Laura about it?’ she eventually suggested.

     Another moment’s silence.

     ‘Good idea… Do you think she’ll mind?’

     Patsy’s alter ego replied immediately. ‘Well, she seems nice enough. There’s only one way to find out…’

     Laura tried to look engrossed in something on her laptop as she heard Patsy come through from the lounge and approach the reception desk. It would seem that when she knew there was another human being within ten feet of her, Patsy’s ‘friend’ disappeared. For two days everyone had looked for her companion every time she was overheard. Not anymore. Laura was just relieved the bedroom walls and ceilings were as thick as they were. When the ‘conversations’ got animated, they could be heard through her bedroom door.

     ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Patsy said when she reached the desk and pulled out the chair so she could sit down opposite Laura. ‘But I’d like a word, please.’

     The fact Patsy was wearing the same yellow sweater over the pair of black trousers she’d worn the previous day, came as no surprise. After Jenny serviced her room the morning after she arrived, she couldn’t wait to tell Laura and Karen the reason for Patsy’s heavy suitcase. The only clothes it had contained were the ones she was dressed in now, another sweater, seven pairs of knickers and socks, a pair of pink, winceyette pyjamas, and her fluffy slippers. The rest of the enormous, antiquated, leather case had been filled with an old fashioned computer, a monitor, a mouse, and a book about penguins.

     ‘It’s about the sausages, isn’t it?’ Laura asked as she tried to keep a straight face.

     Patsy looked dumbfounded. ‘Why yes, yes it is… how did you know?’

     Laura was just about to tell her about overhearing her soliloquy in the residents' lounge, but decided not to. If Patsy wasn’t aware of the fact that she talked to herself, who was she to tell her?

     ‘Igor told me you didn’t eat them this morning for the second time running. Would you prefer pork?’

     The relief of not having to ask showed on Patsy’s face. One of the things she’d looked forward to when she booked her holiday at the Bedford, was having a full English breakfast every day. Because she hated cooking, she hadn’t had a decent sausage in months.

     Her charming smile warmed Laura to her yet again. She might be a bit batty, but there was something very endearing about her. Well spoken, and always polite, Patsy had chatted amiably to all of them when she was either having her breakfast in the dining room, or a drink and snack in the bar.

     ‘Do you mind me asking a question?’ Laura asked.

     Patsy didn’t mind at all. It was nice to have a chat with someone while her room was being serviced. Personally, she didn’t care if anyone cleaned her room or not, but it was fun being away from it for a while.

     ‘It’s just that Je…the chambermaid mentioned you had a computer in your room. Would it not be easier for you if you had a laptop? That way you would have access to the free Wi-Fi we have available for all the guests. It would also mean you don’t have so much to carry when you travel.’

     A look of confusion swept over Patsy’s face. ‘Wi-Fi… what’s that?’

      It was hard to work out what age Patsy was because of her greying hair and old-fashioned glasses, but Laura was sure she couldn’t be much over forty. It was as though she was trapped in a different time zone. A place where things like Wi-Fi didn’t exist.

     ‘It’s a cordless way of getting on the internet,’ she advised her without trying to sound like a know-it-all. ‘Everyone uses it nowadays. It’s so much easier. Here, I’ll show you,’ she said as she swivelled her handbag sized laptop around for Patsy to see the screen. ‘There… look, I’m on the internet now, and I can get a signal anywhere in the building.’

     Patsy adjusted her glasses and squinted at the screen before shaking her head. ‘I’ve heard about the internet, but you wouldn’t catch me going anywhere near it. My father warned me about it. It’s full of nasty people trying to get hold of your money. I only need my computer to do my writing and…’ she tittered before continuing. ’Playing my games of spider solitaire. I couldn’t do that on one of those silly little things. The screen’s not big enough for a start!’

     Laura was lost for words. Surely there wasn’t anyone left on the planet who didn’t know about Wi-Fi and laptops? The TV was full of adverts, as was the press. Even her seventy-eight year old aunt was up to speed in that department. Deciding to change the subject, Laura asked Patsy what she wrote about as she turned her laptop back to face her. Thanks to the information derived from Jenny, Patsy’s answer came as no surprise.

     ‘Penguins!’ Patsy told her with a proud smile. ‘I write about two penguins called Floyd and Fanny.’

     Another conversation stopper. What was there to write about penguins? Sure, Laura had been intrigued with the David Attenborough documentary on the BBC a couple of years ago, but she couldn’t imagine it was a subject a middle-aged spinster in the UK would know much about.

     ‘I see…‘  Laura said, although obviously, judging by the expression on her face, she didn’t. ‘Any particular kind of penguins?’

     She wished she’d never asked. Patsy hardly drew breath as she rattled on about King Penguins from Antarctica. In an effort to impress her on the merits of Wi-Fi, Laura googled ‘King Penguins’ as she listened, and found a clip from the David Attenborough documentary on YouTube. Patsy stopped talking as soon as Laura turned her laptop around to face her again, the sound of squawking penguin chicks filling the air between them.

     Patsy’s face was a picture. ‘How did you do that?’ she gasped, her eyes glued to the screen.

     ‘My laptop’s connected to Wi-Fi. I just Googled it,’ Laura explained.

     Without pulling her eyes away from one of the most fascinating things she’d ever seen in her life, Patsy asked Laura what Google was.

     ‘It’s a search engine on the internet. You can find out about anything these days. You just type in a question and it gives you various answers.’

     Patsy took her glasses off and blinked back at Laura with the innocence of a child.

     ‘What’s a search engine?’
 
 

**********
      
 
Laura couldn’t believe how quickly the week had gone by. After Patsy bought her laptop at Argos, plus a pair of new reading glasses from Boots, they’d spent several hours together at the reception desk as Laura tried to teach her as much as she could in the little free time she had. After Patsy explained that she’d lived with her elderly father until he’d died the year before, Laura began to understand why she was so old-fashioned in her ways. Her father didn’t approve of television, with the exception of the news, so she’d rarely watched it since her mother passed away twenty-five years ago. She wouldn’t even have had her computer, her most valued possession, if her father’s district nurse hadn’t given it to her after she bought a new one. It was then that Patsy had started to write about the two penguins.
 
     On Sunday afternoon, Laura decided to talk to Patsy about the main thing that gave everyone the impression she was a nutter. After she'd successfully transferred what little data there was from Patsy's computer to her laptop by putting it on a memory stick, she summoned up the courage to ask the question.

      ‘Have you always talked to yourself, Patsy?’

     Without hesitation, Patsy replied. ‘Well, yes. After Mummy died, there was nobody to talk to but Daddy. Not that he said much. Living in the country, I never really saw anyone else because he ordered all the shopping from the village by phone. But most people talk to themselves, don’t they?’

     Laura hesitated before she answered her. It was all beginning to make sense. Now forty-one, Patsy had obviously spent over half her life in solitary confinement. With no friends or siblings to advise her, she had no idea how to dress, how to socialise, or even what new technology was available to her. The fact that her wealthy father was nearly fifty when Patsy was born, something she’d told Laura the day before, meant he’d retired before she left boarding school. She’d obviously just taken over her mother’s job as a housewife after she died in a car accident, and not questioned the fact she should have a life of her own. No wonder she talked to herself.

     ‘No, Patsy, they don’t…’
 


Chapter 8
Nadzia

By alexisleech

Igor, the Polish Sous chef at the Bedford, continues to secretly sleep in the dry store at the hotel. Every night he pulls out the mattress he’d hidden behind a stack of spare chairs for the dining room, before settling down for the night. This charade is covered up by the fact he has a back door key, which everyone assumes he uses to lock up before he goes ‘home’ every night. 







 
 Igor’s life had settled into a comfortable routine at the Bedford. His initial spat with Karen, after he spilt the oil that resulted in her accident on the opening night, seemed to be forgotten, and they’d worked well together all weekend. With a regular flow of diners, who all raved about the food, their culinary prowess was evident. There was no doubt in Igor’s mind that Karen was one of the best cooks he’d come across. Her knowledge of herbs and spices introduced him to many not commonly used in Poland, and her sauces, most of which were her own unique recipes, turned bland pieces of meat or chicken into gastronomic delights.
 
     Unbeknown to Igor, Karen was equally impressed with him. Although not put to the test with regard to new recipes, he seemed to be able to turn his hand to anything she asked him to do, and the way he painstakingly arranged every plate of food before it left the kitchen made the food look like a piece of art.
 
     ‘So what kind of things did you cook when you worked in Poland, Igor?’ Karen asked after they finished on Sunday night and they were having their well-deserved drink before going home.

     Igor's ice-cold bottle of Heineken had gone down his throat in three satisfying gulps. 'I cook many Kielbasa where I work before,' he told her after he let out a sigh of satisfaction followed by a fist covered burp. We Polish peoples love our sausages... and Kaszanka aka Kiszka. That is very good!'
  
     ‘Kaszanka aka Kiszka?’
 
     ‘It be what you call black pooding, like what we have here at breekfaust time.’
 
     Although she managed to ignore Igor’s pronunciation for the most part, Karen automatically corrected him with anything related to the kitchen. ‘You mean pudding?’
 
     He looked confused. ‘Yes, that what I say, pooding…’
 
     Karen couldn’t help smiling. The by-product of Igor’s limited English was a source of constant amusement to them all. Laura and Jenny were usually only privy to it at their twice weekly meetings, but Karen was entertained by it all weekend. Even his little tantrums could be highly amusing. If something wasn’t going the way he wanted it to, a stream of Polish would escape his lips in a demented rant while he batted the air with a spatula or tea towel.
 
     ‘Do you think a Polish evening would go down well here at the Bedford?’ Karen asked him after she finished her refreshing spritzer and started to unbutton her chef’s jacket. ‘I mean there are so many Polish people living here since they joined Europe, some of them must miss being able to dine out and have their native cuisine.’
 
     Igor nodded enthusiastically. ‘I theenk that a very good idea!’ he told her. ‘I cook all Polish food real good.’
 
     Seeing his obvious delight at the suggestion, Karen patted him reassuringly on the shoulder after she picked up her bag to go home. ‘Well, I can’t promise anything because I’ll have to discuss it with Laura and Jenny, but I think it’s worth a try if you’re up for it.’
 
     The smile on Igor’s face was so wide, you’d think he’d just won the lottery….
 
 

**********
 
 
For the tenth night running, Igor woke up when he felt the tickle of tiny whiskers on his hand. Nadzia was back. He slowly took his mobile from under his pillow, and using it as a torch, shone it towards her.
 
     ‘Allo, my leetle freend,’ he said with an encouraging smile. ‘Don’t worry, I have special chizz for you.’
 
     Nadzia stared back at him as though she understood every word. As she watched Igor reach down for the plastic sandwich bag he kept beside his mattress, her whiskers twitched frantically while she waited for the smell of cranberry stilton to hit her nostrils.
 
     ‘Yes, Oncle Igor know what you like, don’t he?’
 
     He evidently did, because although Nadzia still maintained eye contact with him, her front two paws had grabbed the half inch square of cheese and she was nibbling her way through it as though she hadn’t eaten for days.
 
     ‘I think you having babies, yes?’ he said as he stretched out his finger and ran it along the underside of her belly. ‘I get you leetle house to have babies in, then you no worry. We no want your babies keeled if Oncle Igor not here to protect you, do we?’
 
     Igor turned the phone towards the mouse trap beside the wall to the right of where he placed the mattress every night. Although Karen had given him a handful of traps to position in all the rooms that adjoined the kitchen, he had made sure none of them would work by jamming the spring on each and every one of them. Fortunately, Karen was frightened of mice. For that reason he never expected her to question whether any were caught  or not, and he was sure she wouldn’t ask to see the evidence if they did. His only concern was if somebody else checked them after he got a place of his own.
 
     When the first piece of cheese was gone, Igor reached into the plastic bag for another, but he held onto it for a moment because he knew that as soon as he gave it to her, Nadzia would scamper off and disappear with it through the small hole in the skirting board. Although she was the only mouse he had seen so far, Igor didn’t doubt there were others. He just prayed that having the cheese delivered by Nadzia would stop them from coming out and looking for it themselves. A lover of mice, in fact a lover of any kind of rodent, Igor couldn’t bear the thought of any of them getting caught.
 
     ‘Good night, my freend,’ he said after he placed the second piece of cheese in front of Nadzia.
 
     With a look in her eyes that Igor was convinced represented gratitude, she picked it up in her teeth, before disappearing into the darkness with her prize….
 
 


Chapter 9
Time to Leave

By alexisleech

Patsy had been staying at the Bedford for a week. When she arrived she appeared a bit batty, not only because she constantly talked to herself, but because she’d lugged an old-fashioned computer and monitor all the way to the hotel in her suitcase. When Laura suggested she should get a laptop so she could use the hotel Wi-Fi, she was reluctant at first because she’d never been on the internet in her life.







Patsy looked over at her antiquated computer and monitor before looking back to her new laptop on the dressing table. If she’d known such things existed before she came to the Bedford, of course she wouldn’t have lugged it all the way there. She’d learnt so much since she arrived seven days ago, and now that she had, she was liberated, albeit in a state of confusion.
 
     Deirdre, her father’s district nurse, had been her only friend up until the day she arrived at the Bedford. In fact, she was the one who suggested the holiday in the first place. While her father’s house was being cleared prior to its sale at the end of the month, it made perfect sense. Patsy had packed the few things she was taking to her new rented flat on the outskirts of Bristol, so she was happy for the rest of the contents to be auctioned off before the sale went through. There was nothing else she wanted from the isolated farmhouse she’d lived in all of her life. In fact, she couldn’t wait to get away from it, especially now.
 
     Patsy had always been lonely, but until she came to the Bedford, she didn’t actually know what the word ‘lonely’ meant. She just assumed it was something everyone suffered, a by-product of being alive. But that was before she’d spent a week being respected and helped by total strangers. Not only had she bought a laptop, the holiday had bought her a window into a world where people actually talked to her and showed her respect. The computer Deirdre gave her represented the way her life had been before. The laptop in front of her represented her future. A future that wasn’t steeped in loneliness and lack of information. A future that allowed her to interact with the outside world on a daily basis.
 
     The talking to herself issue concerned her though. Who else could she talk to? If she had a dog or a cat, then she supposed it would be quite acceptable to be caught talking to them, but Laura had told her that talking to yourself in public places didn’t give people a good impression. She’d spent the last couple of days trying to control it, not that it was hard. The amount of time she’d spent with Laura, sitting opposite her at the reception desk learning about the internet, had left her almost verbally exhausted by the time she went to bed every night. Patsy knew Laura was probably just being kind, as she seemed to be with all the guests, but in a sense she had changed her life. Patsy didn’t have to ask herself questions anymore, or forage through a pile of books. She could just go onto Google and get the answer there.
 
     She patted her old computer and monitor as though she was saying goodbye to an old friend. She hoped Deirdre wouldn’t be offended that she wasn’t taking it back with her. She’d been so kind to her after her father died, by organising the sale of the house and accompanying her to the horrible solicitor who scared Patsy to death. Deirdre helped her fill in all the forms that were required, and had even helped her open a bank account to replace the post office account her parents opened for her years before. With that thought in mind, Patsy pulled out the form Deirdre had asked her to sign when she dropped her off at the station. After she glanced at it, she told her she would sign it when she got back, before stuffing it into her handbag. The fact that Deirdre’s long-term partner’s name was on the form was the thing that stopped her signing it right away. She’d never even met the man, so she couldn’t understand what it had to do with him.
 
     With just fifteen minutes to go before her taxi arrived to take her to the station, Patsy turned on her laptop and opened up Google. She then typed in the words ‘third party mandate…’
 
 

 
 

Author Notes A 'Third party mandate' is a formal instruction to your bank. It gives a third party total control of your bank account, which includes receiving your bank statements.

Because I posted this chapter ten minutes after the last chapter, 'Nadzia' you might think the message to say I'd posted a new chapter had been repeated. I haven't posted for a few days, and because this was such a short chapter, I thought I would post two chapters today.


Chapter 10
Time To Leave Part Two

By alexisleech






Patsy had been staying at the Bedford for a week. When she arrived she appeared a bit batty, not only because she constantly talked to herself, but because she’d lugged an old-fashioned computer and monitor all the way to the hotel in her suitcase. When Laura suggested she should get a laptop so she could use the hotel Wi-Fi, she was reluctant at first because she’d never been on the internet in her life.
 
 
Previous chapter ending;

Patsy patted her old computer and monitor as though she was saying goodbye to an old friend. She hoped Deirdre wouldn’t be offended because she wasn’t taking it back with her. She’d been so kind to her after her father died, by organising the sale of the house and accompanying her to the horrible solicitor who scared Patsy to death. Deirdre helped her fill in all the forms that were required, and had even helped her open a bank account to replace the post office account her parents opened for her years before. With that thought in mind, Patsy pulled out the form Deirdre had asked her to sign when she dropped her off at the station. After she glanced at it, she told her she would sign it when she got back, before stuffing it into her handbag. The fact that Deirdre’s long-term partner’s name was on the form was the thing that stopped her signing it right away. She’d never even met the man, so she couldn’t understand what it had to do with him.
 
     With just fifteen minutes to go before her taxi arrived to take her to the station, Patsy turned on her laptop and opened up Google. She then typed in the words ‘third party mandate…’


 

**********
 

When Laura realised Patsy was nowhere to be seen after her taxi arrived to take her to the station, she asked Igor to keep an eye on reception while she went to tell her it was waiting. After tapping on her bedroom door and getting no response, Laura raised her voice in the hope she could be heard.

     ‘You’ll have to get a move on, Patsy. Your taxi’s here!’

     Still nothing, although Laura was sure she could hear Patsy crying on the other side of the door. Immediately concerned, she fished in her pocket for the master key, but before she could use it, the door opened and Patsy looked back at her, tears streaming down her cheeks.

     ‘Can I stay another night?’ she begged. ‘I don’t think I can face going back today…’

     Laura couldn’t believe the change in Patsy since she happily chatted to her and Igor after breakfast. It was as though someone had sucked the life out of her in the space of twenty minutes, leaving only a blubbering, deflated shell behind.

     ‘Of course you can,’ she told her, although the truth be known, Laura had no idea if Pasty’s room would be available for another night. Being the only bedroom on the ground floor, it was often needed for the more elderly or disabled guests because the hotel didn’t have a lift. Whether the room was available wasn’t Laura’s main concern, however. Patsy was clearly distressed, but Laura was at a loss as to what to say or do. As much as she liked her, Patsy was still a paying guest, and it wasn’t really any of her business.

     ‘Can… can I do anything to help?' she asked.

     Patsy answered her by holding out the crumpled piece of paper clutched in her right hand. ‘I thought she was my friend…’ was all she said before she sat down on the edge of the bed and held her head in her hands.

     After she ironed out some of the wrinkles with her fingers, Laura started to read the document. ‘Who’s Mike Turner?’ she asked when she saw his name on the form. ‘Is he a relative?’

     ‘No,’ Patsy sobbed. ‘I haven’t got any relatives. Both my parents were only children, just like me--’

     She was interrupted by the sound of Igor tapping on the door to remind them the taxi was still waiting.

     ‘Tell him he’s not needed, Igor. Patsy’s decided to stay for another night,’ Laura called back.

     After they heard him make a hasty retreat down the corridor, Laura turned to Patsy and asked her again about Mike Turner.

     ‘He’s Deirdre’s boyfriend…‘

     ‘Deirdre?’

     Patsy shot Laura a look as if she was a traitor for forgetting. ‘The district nurse I told you about. The one who gave me her old computer. The one who’s been helping me since Daddy died.’

     As though a light bulb had just been turned on in her head, Laura now understood why Patsy was so upset. Although it wasn’t completely clear what the document was about because of the small print, it was obvious that this Mike Turner would be given full control of her bank account if the document was signed. What she couldn’t understand was why it had come to light now, on the morning Patsy was returning to Bristol.

     ‘How long have you had this? Laura asked.

     Patsy let out a disenchanted snort. ‘Since the day I arrived. Deirdre asked me to sign it after she drove me to the station and parked up outside it. I would have signed it right away, like all the other documents I’ve signed she’s put in front of me, but when I saw that man’s name on it, I shoved it in my handbag and told Deirdre I’d sign it when I got back. I only looked up ‘Third Party mandate’ on Google before I left here because Deirdre’s picking me up at the station when I get back.’

      She put her head back in her hands. 'I’ve been really stupid letting her take over since Daddy died, haven’t I?’

     As though she’d travelled back in time, Laura looked down at the paper in her hand and remembered back to the day a similar document had lost her and her husband everything. Because she hadn’t checked out the small print on their hotel lease, all their hard work turning it into a successful business had been for naught. Not only did they lose their home and livelihood, but their life savings as well. No, Patsy wasn’t stupid; she had just put her trust in someone who abused it, in the same way as she had done with their unscrupulous landlord.

     ‘No you haven’t,’ she told Patsy after she sat on the bed beside her and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. ‘From what you’ve told me, she was the only friend you had. I can understand why you trusted her, especially after all the years you’ve known her.’

     Laura could see the cloud lifting in Patsy’s eyes, but only momentarily. ‘But what if I’ve signed something else I shouldn’t?’

     Exactly the same thought had occurred to Laura, although she didn’t say it out loud. ‘Don’t worry,’ she told Patsy as she stood up. ‘We'll sort it out if you have.'
 


Chapter 11
A Problem Shared

By alexisleech

Patsy, one of guests who had been staying at the Bedford for a week, decides to check out the form on the internet that her one and only ‘friend’ had asked her to sign before she left to go on holiday. When she finds out it’s a document that gives her friend’s partner control of her bank account, Patsy is devastated. A reclusive woman who had lived in isolation with her elderly father until he died, she couldn’t believe that someone could be so dishonest. When Laura comes through to tell Patsy her taxi had arrived to take her to the station, she breaks down and shows her the form.
    
 


 
When Laura went back through to the reception area after she calmed Patsy down, Jenny and Karen were waiting for her. After she told them how the so called ‘friend’ had tried to con Patsy out of her inheritance, their mouths dropped open.

     'What a cow!’ Karen gasped. ‘I thought you couldn’t get involved with your patient’s finances if you worked for social services or the NHS. It’s against the law, isn’t it?’

     ‘That’s as I understand it,’ Laura agreed. ‘But by trying to do it this way, Deirdre has possibly found a loop-hole. She’s never treated Patsy, only her father, and her partner has a different surname to her. He could claim Patsy asked for help because she wasn’t used to handling her own finances. Under normal circumstances, someone would check something before they sign it, but Patsy’s had to sign various forms recently. Deirdre obviously thought that by slipping another one under her nose just before she got on the train, she’d get her signature without a hitch.’

     ‘But shouldn’t we call the police?’ Jenny asked. ‘If that woman tried to con Patsy, she might try to do it to someone else.’

     ‘If she hasn’t already…’ Karen interjected.

     Laura agreed with both of them, and she’d already suggested it, but Patsy would have none of it. In response to the question, she ripped the form up into several pieces and threw it in the bin. She claimed she couldn’t go through the humiliation of a court case, because it would make her look incredibly stupid to be so trusting. Laura doubted the unsigned form would stand up in court anyway. Anyone could pick up a form like that from the bank and put someone’s name on it. She presumed it was only if it had been signed and acted upon, that it could have been used as evidence.

     ‘But she shouldn’t get away Scot free.’ Karen said. ‘Surely someone should report her?’

     Laura hunched her shoulders. ‘It’s not my call. If Patsy wants to forget about it, then we have to respect her wishes. From what I can make out, most of the other things she signed were either for the lease on her new flat in Bristol, or the missives at the solicitor’s office before the sale of her father’s house went through. I suspect Deirdre was just doing all she could to get into a position of trust before the money for the house was put into Patsy’s account. If Patsy had signed that form before she came here for a week’s holiday, she could have found her account cleaned out by the time she got back.’

     Karen topped up their mugs from the cafetiere she’d brought through while they were waiting for Laura, before asking what they thought Patsy should do next. ‘I mean, she can’t stay here indefinitely. In fact, we’re fully booked for the weekend because of that guy’s fortieth birthday bash on Saturday night. She’s either going to have to go home, or find somewhere else to stay tomorrow night.’

      ‘Damn! I’d forgotten about that,’ Laura groaned. ‘Well, that settles it then. Maybe she should go home. At least that woman won’t be able to meet her off the train this afternoon. I think that’s the main reason Patsy wanted to stay another night. Now she knows what Deirdre was trying to do to her, she’s terrified of the idea of coming face to face with her again.’

     ‘Won’t she just ring Patsy when she finds out she didn’t get the train back, though?’ Karen suggested. ‘If she’s hoping to be handed a form that gives her partner control over Patsy’s account, she’s bound to be seriously pissed off when she doesn’t arrive.’

     Laura shook her head. ‘Well, she probably would if she could. Patsy doesn’t have a mobile. She’s never needed one.’

     Karen couldn’t imagine anyone surviving without a mobile phone in this day and age. It was a lifeline she used on a regular basis. ‘So what do you think this Deirdre woman will do when Patsy doesn’t turn up?’

     The three of them thought about it for a few seconds, until Laura made a suggestion. ‘She’ll probably ring here. She knows where Patsy was staying because she was the one who booked this hotel in the first place. She’s bound to have all the details, including the phone number. It stands to reason she’d call here first.’

      ‘And then what?’ Jenny asked. ‘Do we tell her that Patsy’s still here? If we do, she might ask to speak to her in her room. It doesn’t get rid of the problem, it just complicates it.’

     ‘Unless…’ Karen started to say before she raised her mug to her lips and took a sip of coffee while she thought her idea through, ‘we tell her that Patsy’s out,’ she eventually added.

     Jenny and Laura looked back at her, a mystified expression on both their faces.

     ‘And how does that help, exactly?’ Laura asked.

     Karen seemed to be in a world of her own as she looked straight ahead and thought out loud. ‘Yes… I could see that being a way to kill two birds with one stone,’ she said, before turning back to them. ‘Bagsy the job of talking to Deirdre if she does ring. You know how I love a good acting part…’

 

************
 

By six-thirty, Laura and Karen assumed Deirdre wasn’t going to ring. Patsy’s train would have arrived at three-thirty, so if she was anxious about her no-show, they reckoned Deirdre would have rung by now. With all the guests checked in, and the barman now on duty to serve drinks, as well as keep an eye on the reception desk, they could both call it a day.

     Karen had just picked up her bag to leave when the phone rang. As quick as a flash, she shot across the reception hall and grabbed it.

     ‘Good evening, the Bedford Hotel,’ she purred down the phone.

     Whatever the person at the other end said, Karen adopted a relieved expression, as though they could actually see her through the phone.

     ‘Oh thank goodness,’ she replied. ‘We don’t have a contact number for Miss Beaumont, and we’re concerned because she left her case here before she got a taxi to the Police station. We don’t know if she requires her room for another night, and we don’t want to let it out if she does. If you’re a friend of hers… is there any way you could contact her to find out? I have the number of the station right here.’

     Karen waited for an answer for a few seconds, then the line went dead.

     Obviously not,’ she chuckled after she pressed the disconnect button and turned to Laura with a triumphant smile. ‘I have a funny feeling Patsy won’t be hearing from Deirdre again…’
 

Author Notes 'I bagsy' is a popular British expression. It means, if there are treats to be had, I bag the best of them - honest!

A cafetiere is something we Brits use to filter good coffee. Your put the ground coffee in, top up with boiling water, and plunge the filter top down after a few minutes. It makes great coffee!


Chapter 12
The Birthday Weekend

By alexisleech

 
















It had been a busy forty-eight hours. Patsy had left on Friday afternoon, safe in the knowledge she would probably never hear from Deirdre again after her conversation with Karen. Before she left, Laura set up an email address for her, and accompanied her to the Vodaphone shop to buy a mobile phone and set up a contract. That meant Patsy could not only call if she had any more problems, but access the internet until she organised Wi-Fi at her new apartment in Bristol.

     After the raucous party eventually spilled out of the dining room on Saturday night, and the fifteen guests who weren’t staying in the hotel said their goodbyes, Laura let out a sigh of relief. Their first big function since taking over the hotel, it had all gone incredibly smoothly.

     'Didn't we do well!' Karen declared when she and Michelle came through to the reception area before going home.

    They certainly did. The buffet for thirty-seven people had been a great success, as had the sit-down meal for twenty the night before. The bar takings were spectacular as well. All in all, it had been a very profitable weekend, and one Laura hoped would be repeated on a regular basis.

     After Karen and Michelle left, Carl, the guy who booked the Bedford for his birthday celebration, came over and asked Laura if she would care to join him and his remaining friends for a drink. Under normal circumstances, she would have declined, not being one to fraternise with the guests, but the idea of going up to her flat on the top floor and drinking a lonely glass of wine held no appeal, especially when Carl’s guests seemed to be such a friendly crowd. Why not? The front doors were locked, and Dominic, the barman, was perfectly capable of running things from here on in.

     ‘I’d love to…’ she told him. ‘I’ll just clear the reception desk, and then I’ll be over.’

     After Carl asked her what she wanted to drink, Laura took the phone and registration book through to the office. It had been a long day, and chilling-out was just what the doctor ordered...


 

**********
 
    
Laura felt most peculiar. In fact, she could honestly say she had never felt more peculiar in her life. The two draws on the joint Carl had offered her had rendered the bottom part of her body useless. As everyone chatted and laughed around her, Laura felt her world deteriorate into uncontrollable chaos.

     How did this come about? Well, it all made perfect sense at the time. After Carl was given a box containing several 'special' reefers as a birthday present, he asked Laura if he could light one. Of course, under normal circumstances that wouldn’t be possible because smoking in a public place was banned, but as Carl pointed out, the residents’ lounge was no longer a public place because it contained only him and his friends, and the front doors were locked. In a moment of madness, Laura agreed. The way she saw it, his £3,000 deposit for the weekend entitled him to ask for a few favours beyond the norm.

     After he lit it, and took a long draw, he offered the joint to Laura. Naturally, she refused, but after she watched the effect it had on him and his friends, she decided to give it a go. Surely one puff wouldn’t do any harm? As she understood it, marijuana made people unwind. Was that such a bad thing? Laura could do with relaxing for a change, especially after all the stress of the last few weeks. After deciding that the first draw didn't have any effect, she succumbed to another. Big mistake. The problem she had now was the fact that she didn’t feel relaxed at all. Having never smoked marijuana in her life, her limbs, along with her speech, had taken on a life of their own.

     ‘I really must get to bed,’ is what she meant to say, but it came out as ‘I weely must wet the bed,’ instead. Not that anyone seemed to notice. Carl’s guests, who had consumed copious amounts of alcohol all evening, seemed to be having a problem getting their words out as well, especially after a fifth joint was lit and passed around.

    ‘This is really good shit, man,’ the blond, weightlifter type to the left of Carl drawled after he’d taken a couple of draws and settled back in his chair with a Cheshire-cat grin. Laura tried to imitate his stance, but only ended up sliding down the chair until her shoulders were nearly where her arse had been two seconds before. Now she was down there, she couldn’t work out for the life of her how she could slide back up to her original position.

     ‘Help!’ she mouthed to Igor when he came through from the kitchen to get a cold beer from the bar before going to bed. He stopped in his tracks for a second and, after twitching his nostrils at the smell of marijuana, assumed Laura was a willing participant. What he couldn’t understand was what she wanted help with. Did she require an excuse to leave the party?

     ‘I need you in the kitchen, Boss,’ he called out after he decided he’d worked it out correctly.

     Good try. If Laura could make her legs work, she would have been there in a flash. By this time she was physically trying to lift one of her legs with her hands in the hope she could activate it sufficiently to push herself back up to a sitting position. It was only then that Igor realised what the problem was, so shot over to Laura's side.

     ‘You need help, Boss?’ he asked when he bent down beside her.

     Laura looked up at him and tried to focus. ‘My bloody legs don't work,’ she slurred. 

     It was at this point Igor was pleased he not only swam every day when he went for a shower, but had taken advantage of the gym at the swimming baths as well. Before she knew what was happening, Igor put a hand under each armpit, raised Laura to a standing position, and looped her left arm around his shoulder. With his right arm grasped firmly around her waist, he lifted her off the ground, her dangling legs offering no impediment to the journey through to the dining room. Once there, he lowered her onto one of the chairs. Unfortunately, Laura ended up sliding off it and landing in an ungainly heap on the floor.

     ‘Oh, God,’ she moaned as she looked up at him with glazed eyes. ‘I feel horrible…’

     Igor scratched his head as he tried to work out what to do next. There was no way he could carry Laura up the three flights of stairs to her flat, whatever weight she was. He knew from his own experience, when he first tried marijuana in his younger days, that a good sleep was probably all she needed.

      ‘I be back in minute!’ he told her, before running to the dry store and pulling out his secreted mattress from behind the stack of chairs in the corner. Laura’s need was greater than his, and if he had to sleep on the floor for one night, then so be it.

     As soon as he positioned the mattress on the floor beside her, Laura rolled onto it, curled up in a fetal position, and fell fast asleep…
 

Author Notes This chapter was inspired by a film called 'Saving Grace,' which is the story about a widow who decided to grow marijuana to try and save her home after she's left penniless. Deciding that she should smoke a joint for the first time in her life, the results are hilarious.


Chapter 13
Igor Is Found Out

By alexisleech

















The night before
 
Igor scratched his head as he tried to work out what to do next. There was no way he could carry Laura up the three flights of stairs to her flat, however light she was. He knew from his own experience, when he first tried marijuana in his younger days, that a good sleep was probably all she needed.

      ‘I be back in minute!’ he told her, before running to the dry store and pulling out his secreted mattress from behind the stack of chairs in the corner. Laura’s need was greater than his, and if he had to sleep on the floor for one night, then so be it.

     As soon as he positioned the mattress on the floor beside her, Laura rolled onto it, curled up in a fetal position, and fell fast asleep…

 

Laura’s eyes slowly opened as she tried to fathom out where she was. The fluffy warmth of her duvet was missing, as was the comfort of the two duck-down pillows that usually supported her head. When her eyes were fully open, the light from the street lamps illuminated her surroundings sufficiently to confirm she was on the floor in the dining room of the Bedford. But how?  A groan escaped her lips as she remembered.
 
     ‘Oh, God…’ she said out loud as the memory of the previous evening flashed through her head like a film clip, each embarrassing scene automatically rewinding itself in glorious technicolour, over and over again.
 
     Shaking her head, as though trying to banish her thoughts, Laura sat up and tried to work out what was cushioning her from the hardness of the carpeted floor. When she at last recognised it as the mattress Karen had lain on in the kitchen after she sprained her ankle, the image of Igor picking her up and frogmarching her through to the dining room flashed up on her mental monitor again. Had the guests noticed that the owner of the hotel they were staying at was literally legless? Another groan escaped her lips at the thought.
 
     A quick check of her watch told her it was half past one. Having no idea what time Igor rescued her, Laura wondered if she’d slept long enough to regain the use of her legs. She rolled onto her side, then, holding onto one of the dining room chairs just in case, she rose to a standing position. Yes, they were working fine.
 
     ‘Thank goodness!’ she exclaimed as she sat down in the chair with a relieved sigh. Apart from the fact she felt mortified at the result of taking two puffs of a joint, Laura couldn’t believe she succumbed to the temptation in the first place. Because she never had the opportunity to try marijuana before, Laura could only assume she tried it because she wanted to fit in, be one of the crowd. Whatever the reason, she certainly wouldn’t be tempted again. Losing the use of her legs was one of the scariest experiences of her life.
 
     Determined to get rid of the evidence of where she had lain in such an embarrassing state, Laura picked up the mattress and made her way through to the kitchen so she could put it in the dry store until it could be returned to the store room on the second floor. After that, she could go to her flat and grab a few hours sleep before coming down to man the reception desk at seven in the morning. What she said to the guests, far less what she would say to Igor, was something she was going to have to play by ear. Thinking on her feet had become second nature to Laura after her years in the hotel trade, so she hoped she would be able to cope should her behaviour be questioned by anyone.
 
     Having negotiated the entry to the kitchen quite easily because of the well-oiled swing door, Laura put the mattress up against the outer wall of the dry store so she could open the door before taking it in there, but just as her hand made contact with the handle, she heard Igor's voice coming from the other side.
 
     ‘You no worry, Nadzia. When I have money, I find place for us. Then we no have to be here in secret no more...’
 
     Laura froze to the spot for a moment, then she grabbed the mattress and took it back to the dining room as quickly and quietly as she could. In a sense, finding out Igor was meeting his lover in secret didn’t surprise her. He didn’t leave until eleven every evening, and he let himself back into the kitchen at six-thirty every morning to cook breakfast. She could well imagine how difficult it was for him to meet up with his girlfriend. Igor had told them at one of their staff meetings that he didn’t like staying at his uncle’s place because he was forced to share a room. On that basis, Laura assumed he couldn’t take her there.
 
     Once back in her flat, Laura poured herself an ice-cold glass of water from the kitchen tap, and drank it while she stared out across the city and tried to work out what to do for the best. Instead of being annoyed at what she thought was Igor’s only duplicity, she was more concerned about the ramifications if there was some kind of confrontation and he walked out. He did the work of two people, and without complaint. They already had several bookings for his ‘Polish’ night in the restaurant, and she didn’t doubt it would be sold out by the time Friday arrived. And what would she have done if he hadn’t rescued her the night before? No, exposing Igor’s secret could be catastrophic. He was part of the ‘team,’ and his work was exemplary. Finding a way to keep him happy and have a place of his own, somewhere he could relax in private with his girlfriend, was a much better idea.
 
     Laura decided to sleep on it. With a bit of luck, she would come up with a plan…
    

 
 

Author Notes Laura: The owner of the Bedford hotel.

Igor: The Sous chef at the Bedford who is secretly sleeping in the dry store because he hates staying at his uncle's house.

Nadzia: The pregnant mouse Igor has befriended in the dry store.


Chapter 14
A Home For Igor

By alexisleech

 

















Laura looked up at Carl with a cheerful smile when he arrived at the reception desk at midday to pay his bill. Unlike him and his guests, whose hangovers were plain to see by their hang-dog expressions, Laura looked the picture of health. Determined to look composed after her ungainly departure from the party the night before, she had applied her make-up with care to help cover up the fact she only had four hours sleep.

     ‘I can see that chef of yours managed to put a smile on your face,’ Carl teased.

     ‘Sorry?’

     Carl gave her one of those knowing looks that implied they shared a secret. ‘Your chef… I must try that ‘me Tarzan, you Jane’ approach the next time I want to get my girlfriend into the sac. It was most impressive!’

     Laura could feel the colour rising in her cheeks at the suggestion, and was just about to correct him when she realised Carl’s version of events was probably more acceptable than the truth. A lot more dignified too. Her fear of being classed as a legless, drunken drug-user was much greater than her fear of everyone thinking she had a younger lover.

     ‘Ah yes…’ she tittered in a way she hoped would imply he was correct in his assumption. ‘To be honest, I didn’t realise he was so strong.’

     ‘Well, I assume he works out. He picked you up and carried you off as though you were as light as a feather.’

     Again, Laura nearly corrected him, but decided he could be right. Igor was now sporting a very healthy set of biceps, along with a flat stomach. It was certainly a far cry from the weedy, pot-bellied Sous chef they had employed eight weeks ago. Maybe he was going to a gym to impress his girlfriend, Nazdia, the one he was secretly making out with in the dry store.  He certainly hadn’t acquired muscles like that carrying pots and pans around in the kitchen.

     ‘Eh, yes,’ she replied as she took Carl’s credit card and slipped it into the terminal. The fact that his bill was an extra four hundred and forty pounds on top of his three thousand pound deposit for food and accommodation, didn’t seem to faze him. Laura was just thankful she’d ordered two extra cases of champagne. Carl and his party had drunk all but one bottle at forty pounds a pop.

     ‘I’ll certainly be recommending this place to my friends,’ he told her as he tapped in his pin number. ‘This weekend has been excellent, especially with the added bonus of you know what…’

     Laura didn’t doubt that letting Carl and his friends smoke a few joints was what he was referring to. Her biggest concern was the smell it might leave behind in the residents’ lounge, but fortunately, having opened the windows at seven that morning, after she sprayed the room liberally with air freshener, the odour had disappeared.

     Not being one to miss the opportunity of getting more business, Laura opened the top drawer of the reception desk and pulled out a handful of business cards. ‘It’s been a pleasure, Carl,’ she told him as she passed them to him along with his credit card and receipt. ‘And if any of your friends would like to use The Bedford for parties or weddings, I’ll make sure they get a really good price…’


 

***********
 
    
By the time the last of Carl’s guests left, Laura was beginning to flag. She was contemplating going back to bed when Jenny took over the reception desk, but not until she checked something out. She didn’t want to go through another restless night trying to work out a solution to Igor’s love life problem. The sooner she solved it, the sooner she could relax.

     ‘Do you know why the back bedroom on the second floor is used as a storeroom?’ she asked Jenny as soon as she came downstairs from housekeeping.

     Jenny lifted her gaze from the arrivals list in her hand. ‘According to one of the chambermaids, who had been here for years when I started, it was because it was haunted. Apparently, a guest died in there, and people kept complaining about strange things happening after that. The owners before the Patels decided it was too much hassle to let it out, apart from the fact that it looks out on the bins in the car park at the back. Why do you ask?’

     ‘Oh, it’s just an idea I’ve had. I thought it could be put to better use, that’s all. You don’t really believe it’s haunted, do you?’

     Jenny shrugged her shoulders. ‘To be honest, I’ve never been in there. After that woman told me about it, I didn’t want to go near it.’

     When Laura thought back to the one and only time she had been in the room, technically room thirteen if such a thing was allowed in a hotel, she could only remember seeing a couple of double beds, a load of outdated bedroom furniture, and a fold away cot. If push came to shove, the cot could be stored in her flat, and the rest of the furniture not required to furnish the room could be chucked out.

     ‘Well, I better check it out then,’ Laura told her. ‘I don’t believe in ghosts, so it doesn’t bother me.’

     ‘Rather you then me,’ Jenny snorted. ‘If anything happens, don’t say I didn’t warn you!’


 
***********
 
    
As Laura approached the storeroom, she fished out the master key from her pocket. She was determined to make her idea work, so reminded herself that there was no such thing as ghosts when she opened the door and went inside. Just as she remembered, there was nothing but beds, redundant furniture, and the fold away cot. A bigger room than the rest on the second floor, it also had a sofa in the corner, opposite an old fashioned looking TV. As Jenny said, the small window overlooked the bins in the carpark at the back of the building, but she was sure Igor wouldn’t mind that. The ensuite was a bit antiquated compared to the others in the hotel, but that didn’t matter either. At least Igor would have it to himself instead of having to share it with his uncle’s family.

    ‘This is perfect,’ Laura said out loud after she switched off the light and fan in the windowless ensuite. If the room was cleaned out with the exception of the furniture it required, she didn’t doubt Igor could be very comfortable there. She even found a couple of bedside lamps in the corner of the room, which she took over to a chest of drawers by the window and plugged into the wall. The fact that they worked really surprised her, because the bulbs looked ancient, and were covered in dust. After she turned them off, she let them cool down before wiping them over with an old pillowcase she found on top of one of the upturned mattresses.

     Satisfied that she could do no more until she got someone to take the excess furniture away, Laura turned to leave the room when she heard the fan whirring away in the ensuite. That's strange, she thought to herself, I'm sure I switched that off…

 


Chapter 15
A New Home For Jasper

By alexisleech

















Laura was feeling a lot happier by the time she came back down to the reception hall later that evening. The three hour sleep she had on the sofa refreshed her, and the belief that she’d solved the problem of Igor having some privacy with his girlfriend contributed to her ‘feel good’ factor.

     ‘How did you get on in the storeroom?’ Jenny asked as soon as she reached the desk. ‘I assumed, when I didn’t hear any screams, you didn’t come across any ghosts.’

     After flopping down in the opposite chair, Laura looked back at Jenny with a satisfied grin. ‘Great… well as good as I could hope. It's perfectly usable as a bedroom, so I thought I would give it to Igor. It seems a shame that he has to trek all the way across town at the crack of dawn every morning, especially when it’s just sitting there empty. I’m going to try and get it cleared by Friday, so I can surprise him with it after his Polish night in the restaurant.’

     Jenny raised an eyebrow. ‘But I thought he had a place at his uncle’s. Why does he need to live here?’

     There was no way Laura was going to tell Jenny about overhearing Igor’s conversation with who she believed to be his girlfriend in the dry store, or about her ungainly departure from Carl’s party. He had rescued her, and she was glad she had a means to return the favour.

     ‘He was a great help last night after the party,’ she told Jenny instead.  ‘To be honest, it would be nice to have a man about… just in case there’s anything I can’t handle.’

     Jenny hesitated before she answered. Although she thought it was a good idea with regard to Igor being ‘on hand,’ she was still concerned about what she’d been told when she first came to work at the Bedford. ‘But what if the room really is haunted?’

     ‘Well, if it is, I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.' Laura replied with a shrug. 'It didn’t feel spooky to me, and as long as we don’t tell Igor about the rumour, he won’t be looking for something I’m sure doesn’t exist. Are we the only ones who know about the ghost story?’

     Jenny thought for a moment. ‘Yes, I think so. There’s none of the original chambermaids here anymore, so there’s no one to tell tales.’

     Laura looked relieved. ‘Well, let’s keep it that way. What Igor doesn’t know won’t hurt him… Now, how’s it been this afternoon? Anything I should know about?’

    Stifling a yawn, Jenny looked back at her with bleary eyes. The truth be known, she hadn’t had much sleep the night before either. ‘No, it’s all quiet on the western front. All the new guests have checked in, and I’m ready to go. I promised Dominic I would take some of the empty bottles to the bottle bank on my way home. Our glass recycling bin is overflowing, and it doesn’t get emptied till Wednesday.’

      ‘Do you need a hand?’ Laura asked when Jenny got up and picked up four of the eight carrier bags bulging with empty bottles that Dominic had left by the desk.

     ‘What do you think?’ Jenny chuckled. ‘I just want to get home as soon as possible and crash. George’s cat woke us up again at four this morning, so I’m absolutely knackered.’

     Laura got up and grabbed the remaining four carrier bags, two in each hand. ‘I thought you’d banned the cat from the bedroom?’

     A snort of disgust escaped Jenny’s lips. ‘I did, but we could still hear it screaming through the door. The bloody thing seems to sleep all day and keep us up half the night. It’s caused so many arguments, I’m at my wit’s end.’

     As they went through the swing doors on the way to the back door in the kitchen, Laura asked Jenny if there wasn’t somewhere in her house they could put the cat where they wouldn’t hear it. Jenny shook her head.

     ‘I wish. We can’t lock him in the kitchen with Katie and Brody. We tried it once, and I came down to a sea of cat litter spread all over the floor, and paw prints all over the work surfaces. It was like world war three had broken out. We also tried locking him in the living room but, because it’s under our bedroom, we could still hear Jasper meowing through the floorboards. Honestly, Laura, I can see George and me splitting up if we don’t do something soon.’

     As she opened the back door, Laura had an idea. ‘Why don’t you leave the cat here for a few days? I’m sure we can find somewhere to put him where nobody would hear him if he starts making a racket.’

     Jenny considered the suggestion for a couple of seconds before shaking her head. ‘But where? The only place that’s not within earshot of the guests is the dry store…’

     She hesitated for a moment before turning back to Laura with an enlightened smile. ‘Having said that, I noticed a couple of mouse droppings in there when I was getting some more toilet rolls for housekeeping this afternoon. Perhaps having a cat around for a while might be a good idea.’

     Igor, who was preparing sandwiches for one of the guests, dropped his knife on the metal work surface with such a loud clatter, Laura and Jenny nearly dropped the bags of empty bottles.

     ‘You no need cat!’ he almost screeched at Jenny when he turned to face her. ‘We have trops!’

     Surprised by his reaction, Laura turned to Igor with a frown. ‘And have we caught any mice in the ‘trops’?’ she asked.

     With a dumbfounded expression parked on his face as he tried to work out what to say for the best, Igor looked as though he’d just been asked to expand on Einstein’s theory of relativity. If he said no, then they might check out the mouse traps and find out he’d sabotaged them by jamming the springs. How would he be able to explain that? No, it was better to say yes, he was sure.  ‘We cotch plenty of mice, we no need cat,’ he reiterated.

     Laura could only imagine Igor was opposed to the idea of a cat being in the dry store because of his clandestine meetings with his girlfriend. But that wouldn’t matter if he was going to move into the redundant bedroom upstairs. The problem was, she wouldn’t be able to get the room cleared for a few days, and she didn’t want to mention it to him until she did. On the basis that he might have arranged another meeting with his girlfriend during the week, she suggested Jenny bring George’s cat over on Saturday.

     Igor was nearly in tears. The possibility that Nadzia and her babies might be murdered by a cat was the last thing he’d expected…

     As they walked towards the car park, Jenny suddenly stopped in her tracks after she looked up at the rear of the building, ‘Did you leave the lights on when you checked out the storeroom?’ she asked Laura over her shoulder.

     When she looked up and saw the soft glow of the bedside lamp shining in the window, Laura’s jaw dropped open. She was certain she hadn’t turned the lamp back on after she cleaned it...
 

Author Notes The incorrect spelling of Igor's speech is deliberate.

Laura: The owner of the Bedford hotel.

Jenny; A shareholder in the Bedford, and Laura's friend.

Igor: The Sous chef at the Bedford who is secretly sleeping in the dry store because he hates staying at his uncle's house.

Nazdia: The pregnant mouse Igor has befriended in the dry store.

Jasper; Jenny's boyfriend's cat


Chapter 16
The Polish Evening

By alexisleech


















From the previous chapter;

With a dumbfounded expression parked on his face as he tried to work out what to say for the best, Igor looked as though he’d just been asked to expand on Einstein’s theory of relativity. If he said no, then they might check out the mouse traps and find out he’d sabotaged them by jamming the springs. How would he be able to explain that? No, it was better to say yes, he was sure. ‘We cotch plenty of mice, we no need cat,’ he reiterated.

     Laura could only imagine Igor was opposed to the idea of a cat being in the dry store because of his secret, clandestine meetings with his girlfriend. But that wouldn’t matter if he was going to move into the unused bedroom upstairs. The problem was, she wouldn’t be able to get the room cleared for a few days, and she didn’t want to mention it to him until she did. On the basis that he might have arranged another meeting with his girlfriend during the week, she suggested Jenny bring George’s cat over on Saturday.

     Igor was nearly in tears. The possibility that Nadzia and her babies might be murdered by a cat, was the last thing he’d expected…


 

**********
 

By Monday morning, Igor had a plan of sorts. If he could capture Nazdia before she had her babies, and he didn’t doubt that would be any time soon, he would be able to hide her somewhere until the cat arrived on Saturday. But what then? He had no idea where he would be sleeping after the mouse killer arrived. His only other option was to return to his uncle’s house and the clutches of his obese, nymphomaniac, step-cousin, Mazeija. He didn’t doubt his recent body building at the gym might enable him to fight her off more efficiently than before, but the thought still terrified him. That being said, unless he could think of an alternative, moving back to his uncle’s might be his only choice.

     A foray around the dry store on Monday night resulted in him emptying out the contents of a large, rectangular tin of dried pasta into a black plastic bag. As soon as he found them a permanent place to live, he would buy Nazdia a proper cage, but until then, this would have to do. Using one of the metal skewers from the kitchen, Igor made air holes all along the back, before placing shredded kitchen towel inside to make it cosy. The small ramekin filled with water, and the large piece of her favourite cranberry and stilton cheese, would ensure she had enough to eat and drink for a few days.

     ‘I sorry leetle one,’ he told Nazdia when he picked her up and popped her in the tin box after she came to claim her piece of cheese that night. Igor could hear her squeaking with fear and frantically running around as soon as he put the lid on. ‘You safe now, Nazdia. You no get keeled by cat.’ he soothed.

     Igor didn’t doubt she was terrified, but what else could he do? Once her babies were born, they would be dependent on her for at least three weeks until they were weaned. After that, he would take them somewhere safe to set them free. He had done the same thing at the last restaurant he worked at in Poland because he appreciated the speed at which mice were able to reproduce. Much though he loved Nazdia, he didn’t want Laura’s hotel overrun by her offspring.

     Satisfied that he could do no more with regard to her safety, he placed the tin box containing Nazdia at the back of one of the shelves. He then took a piece of board and blocked the hole where she had popped out of every night when she came to visit him. Although he hadn’t seen any other mice, he knew they must be there. There had to be a ‘Mr’ Nazdia behind that wall, and the piece of cheese she took back through the hole every night was probably for him and a host of others. Hopefully, when they picked up the scent of the cat, they wouldn’t set foot in there again…

 
**********
 

Laura was feeling very pleased with herself. Clearing the storeroom on the second floor turned out to be much easier than expected. When she called the Salvation Army, they agreed to collect the excess furniture within forty-eight hours. After it was gone, she set up a small kitchen area next to the ensuite, with a table-top fridge, microwave, and kettle she’d bought second-hand on EBay. It didn’t seem fair that Igor would have to go down to the hotel kitchen for something to eat or drink when he was off duty. Creating a home for him had cost less than a hundred pounds, and had only taken a few hours to organise.

    I wonder what he’ll think when he walks in, she pondered as she made up the bed with one of the striped duvet covers and matching pillowcases left behind by the Patels. The thought that Igor could invite his girlfriend over and relax in such comfortable surroundings brought a smile to Laura’s face again. It was also nice to think there would be someone she could call on if there was some kind of emergency. Her ‘legless’ experience had reminded her, yet again, that she didn’t have her husband by her side should something go wrong.

     Still determined to make it a surprise after the Polish night was over, Laura placed the large sign she’d made saying ‘welcome home Igor!’ on the chest of drawers facing the door. She would ask him to bring up the mattress that was still in the dry store after they finished in the kitchen, and hopefully, after he realised it was no longer required for his meetings with Nazdia, he would be delighted with the alternative.

     Satisfied she could do no more, Laura turned off the lights and went downstairs…

 
**********
 

Igor tried to stay calm as he did his last minute preparations for the Polish evening. The restaurant was fully booked from six onwards, and he had cooked enough of everything to make sure they couldn’t run out of any of the dishes on offer. Because the event turned out to be such a popular idea, and they’d had to turn away so many bookings, he didn’t doubt Karen would want to repeat it on a regular basis. Anything not used tonight could be frozen and utilised at a later date.

     ‘I better make a couple of dishes for the hotel guests who might not like Polish food,’ Karen told him when she reamerged from the dry store. ‘I thought I would make some Penne Carbonara, just in case.’

     Igor doubted it would be necessary because he had picked six of the most popular Polish dishes that catered to the varied tastes of many nationalities. But Karen was the boss. If she wanted to make something else, then fair enough.

     ‘You want me to make?’ He asked over his shoulder as he stirred the huge pan of sausage and cabbage stew he’d made earlier.

     Karen shook her head. ‘No, it’s alright, Igor. You’ve got enough on your plate, and I’m feeling a bit redundant anyway. I’ve got everything I need right here, so I’ll just get on with it.’

     Having tasted the stew, Igor decided to add a pinch more salt before turning around. When he did, the ladle in his hand dropped to the floor, the contents spraying his checked trousers with cabbage and gravy.  There, on the metal work surface in front of Karen, was the tin box Nazdia had given birth in two nights before…
 
 

 

Author Notes Please note that the incorrect spelling of Igor's speech is deliberate.

Laura: The owner of the Bedford hotel.

Karen; The chef at the Bedford, and Laura's friend

Jenny; A shareholder in the Bedford, and Laura's friend.

Igor: The Sous chef at the Bedford who is secretly sleeping in the dry store because he hates staying at his uncle's house. Amazingly, he also loves mice!

Nazdia: The pregnant mouse Igor has befriended in the dry store.

Jasper; Jenny's boyfriend's cat.


Chapter 17
The Polish Evening, Part Two

By alexisleech


















From the previous chapter;
 
       ‘I better make something for the hotel guests who might not like Polish food,’ Karen told him when she re-emerged from the dry store. ‘I thought I would make some Penne Carbonara, just in case.’

     Igor doubted it would be necessary because he had picked six of the most popular Polish dishes that catered to the varied tastes of many nationalities. But Karen was the boss. If she wanted to make something else, then fair enough.

     ‘You want me to make?’ He asked over his shoulder as he stirred the huge pan of sausage and cabbage stew he’d made earlier. Karen shook her head. ‘No, it’s alright, Igor. You’ve got enough on your plate, and I’m feeling a bit redundant anyway. I’ve got everything I need right here, so I’ll just get on with it.’
 
     Having tasted the stew, Igor decided to add a pinch more salt before turning around. When he did, the ladle in his hand dropped to the floor, the contents spraying his checked trousers with gravy. There, on the metal work surface in front of Karen, was the tin box Nazdia had given birth in two nights before…
 
 

**********
 
 
As Karen stared back at Igor and tried to work out why he looked so panic stricken, Nazdia let her presence be known when the sound of her squeaking reverberated around the kitchen.
 
     ‘Is that what I think it is?’ Karen gasped, her fear of mice making her jaw drop as her eyes swept the floor.
 
     Igor saw this as his one and only chance to rescue Nazdia and her babies. ‘Yes!’ he shrieked as he pointed toward the corner beside the bin. ‘I see them!’
 
     ‘THEM!’ Karen echoed, ‘Do you mean there’s more than one?’
 
     Igor grabbed the broom and pretended to be herding the invisible perpetrators into a corner. ‘I get them, Boss!’ he shouted over his shoulder. ‘You no worry!’
 
     Karen wasn’t worried because she’d escaped the kitchen through the swing doors into the dining room as quickly as possible. Igor could still see her white chef’s jacket through the small gap between them, so continued talking to her as he crashed around the kitchen, broom in hand.
 
     ‘They now in Dry store, Boss!’ he shouted out, before he shot in there and grabbed the plastic bag he’d emptied the contents of the pasta tin into on Monday evening.
 
     Karen stood petrified in the dining room with her back to the door. ‘Where are they now?’
 
      Igor ran back into the kitchen and hastily emptied the contents of the plastic bag onto the work surface where Karen had been about to start preparing the Penne Carbonara. ‘They back in kitchen, Boss,’ he shouted back. ‘But I get them!’
 
      He then continued the verbal onslaught berating the fictitious mice while he swung the broom in various directions and brought tins and pots crashing to the floor. ‘You take THAT, you bad mouse! I no want you in my kitchen!’
 
      Satisfied that he'd spent enough time chasing the imaginery mice around the kitchen to be believable, he grabbed a tube of tomato puree from the shelf and, after squirting a small amount on two areas of the tiled floor, dipped the brush into each blob and spread it around so it looked as though there had been at least two bloody fatalities.
 
     ‘I keel them!’ he shouted through to Karen after he grabbed the pasta tin with Nazdia and her babies inside.
 
     Karen stuck her nose around one of the swing doors and followed Igor’s gaze towards the red smears on the floor. ‘What have you done with them?’
 
     Igor pointed at the tin in his right hand before flicking the thumb of his left hand under his chin, then up in the air. ‘They kaput,’ he told her.
 
     ‘You’re sure?’
 
     Igor looked suitably triumphant. ‘If they no dead yet, they be dead soon,’ he announced solemnly as he held up the pasta tin with the air holes facing towards him, the lid firmly in place. ‘I no take chance. Bodies in here.’
 
     ‘Oh, thank God for that…’ Karen groaned. ‘Well done, Igor. Now, get rid of that tin, will you, and…’ Her finger wiggled guiltily towards the rapidly darkening red splodges on the floor, 'and that...’ she added. ‘The restaurant will open in fifteen minutes, and I have pasta to make.’
 
 
**********
 
 
It had been a very successful night. All the dishes Igor chose to serve on their first Polish evening had been a huge success. The stuffed cabbage leaves and pickled beetroot was the most popular starter, although the compliments abounded for the black pudding and cucumber pickle as well. The orders for his sausage stew with dumplings, something Igor knew his fellow countrymen adored, were matched by the orders for apple-stuffed pork with his homemade sauerkraut and potato pancakes.
 
     'Well done, Igor!’ Karen complimented him when it was time for them to wind down after the last dessert was served at ten fifteen. It was now down to John, the KP, to make sure the kitchen was cleared and ready for breakfast in the morning while Igor, Karen and Michelle took the weight of their feet and had a cold drink at the cleared prep table in the corner.
 
     ‘We do it again, Boss?’ Igor asked, his frosted glass of lager held triumphantly in the air.
 
     ‘Too right!’ Karen declared as her glass chinked up to his. ‘Apart from the mouse incident, this has been one of the easiest nights I’ve had in this kitchen since we opened.’
 
     ‘Mouse incident?’ Michelle asked, her eyebrows raised.
 
     Karen had told Igor not to mention his mouse extermination before Michelle arrived. Being the softy she was, Karen knew she would be appalled at the idea of killing anything, even if it was vermin that could overrun the kitchen.
 
     ‘Eh…yes. Igor saw a mouse when we were getting ready before the restaurant opened, but he managed to shoo it out the back door. Don’t worry, Honey. We’ve got George’s cat coming here for a little holiday in the dry store tomorrow, so if we have got mice, I’m sure that will be the last we’ll see of them.’
 
     Igor downed his ice-cold lager with a satisfied gulp while he thought back to earlier in the evening. After he took the box containing Nazdia and her babies out to the car park, he’d hidden it behind the wheels of the huge refuse bin, after taking the lid off to check she was okay. This being his last night in the dry store before the dreaded Jasper arrived, he didn’t have a clue what he would do tomorrow, but at least Nazdia and her babies were safe for now…
    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Author Notes Please note that the incorrect spelling of Igor's speech is deliberate.

KP; Kitchen porter.

Prep; Preparation of food prior to service in a restaurant.

Laura: The owner of the Bedford hotel.

Karen; The chef at the Bedford, and Laura's friend

Jenny; A shareholder in the Bedford, and Laura's friend.

Michelle; Karen's daughter who helps out in the kitchen.

Igor: The Sous chef at the Bedford who is secretly sleeping in the dry store because he hates staying at his uncle's house.

Nazdia: The pregnant mouse Igor has befriended in the dry store.

Jasper; Jenny's boyfriend's cat


Chapter 18
Home At Last

By alexisleech


















From the previous chapter;
 
     Igor downed his ice-cold lager with a satisfied gulp while he thought back to earlier in the evening. After he took the box containing Nazdia and her babies out to the car park, he’d hidden it behind the wheels of the huge refuse bin, after taking the lid off to check she was okay. This being his last night in the dry store before the dreaded cat arrived, he didn’t have a clue as to what he would do tomorrow, but at least Nazdia and her babies were safe for now…
    

**********


Igor lay back on the bed, his fingers intertwined behind his head. It had certainly been an interesting evening, albeit confusing at times. The success of the Polish night in the restaurant was slightly overshadowed by what happened beforehand, but Karen and Laura’s decision that it should now be a regular event had pleased him immensely. A far cry from his last few years as an assistant chef in Poland, Igor had achieved recognition at last. All his mother’s favourite recipes had been concocted meticulously, and declared a triumph by everyone who tasted them.

     As he looked around the room Laura had created for him on the second floor, Igor still couldn’t believe his luck. After two months of secretly sleeping on the mattress in the dry store, he at last had a place he could call home. Even the little kitchen area Laura set up beside the door of his ensuite was perfect for his requirements. She’d been thoughtful enough to put a couple of bottled beers in the fridge, along with bread, butter and milk. Coffee, tea and sugar was contained in three matching jars beside the kettle, and salt, pepper, and his favourite Lea & Perrins sauce sat by the microwave, along with two of everything he might need in the crockery and cutlery department. No, he couldn’t have hoped for more, and as soon as he could retrieve Nazdia from her box hidden behind the bin in the carpark, he knew she would be happy here too.

     A chuckle escaped his lips when he thought back to half an hour ago. When Laura asked him to take the mattress from the dry store up to the store room before he went home, he thought it was strange that she and Karen had exchanged knowing looks at the time. Believing it would be his last night in his secret sleeping place, his face had dropped when she asked him to remove the only thing that would cushion him from the cold, concrete floor. Resigned to the fact he would either have to get a room in a B&B, or suffer the indignities of his step-cousin by returning to his uncle’s house the following day, he’d almost looked forward to his last night in his makeshift home.

     ‘I take tomorrow,’ he’d suggested in the hope that he wouldn’t have to endure an uncomfortable night’s sleep.

     Laura, who was usually fairly laid back, crossed her arms defiantly. ‘No, do it now, Igor. George’s cat is arriving in the morning, so I want it out of the way tonight. It’ll only take five minutes for you to take it up to the storeroom, especially now you have all those newly acquired muscles. In fact, I’ll come up with you on my way to my flat in case you need a hand.’

     Believing he had no option, Igor had reluctantly gone into the dry store to retrieve the mattress, his shoulders slumped.

     ‘Come on, chop, chop!’ Laura commanded as she held the swing door to the dining room open to facilitate him getting through it once he had the mattress gripped tightly in his hands.

     Igor made his way up the stairs as quickly as he could, Laura at his heels. When she opened the door of the storeroom with the master key, she looked taken aback. Her automatic reach to turn on the light wasn’t necessary, because both the bedside lamps were already turned on.

     ‘Surprise!’ she announced after a moment of unexpected silence. When Igor noticed the welcome home sign facing him after he manoeuvred the mattress through the door, he looked momentarily confused.

     ‘What do you think?’ Laura asked, her eyes scanning his face for a response.

     ‘I… I no understand…’ he gasped. ‘You give me home here?’

     Laura let out a sigh of relief when a smile broke out on Igor’s face. For one awful moment she thought he didn’t like it. ‘Yes, this is for you… if you want it, that is.’

     After Igor positioned the mattress up against the wall by the door, he turned to Laura, his hands in window wiper mode indicating his excitement. Resisting the temptation to start jumping up and down on the spot, he threw caution to the wind and embraced her with a hug that lifted Laura off the floor.

     ‘I love et!’ he cried, before letting her go and running to the ensuite to check it out. Unbeknown to Laura, this would be the first time in Igor’s life he had a bathroom all to himself. His family home in Poland had an outside toilet, something considered quite normal there, and his uncle’s house had one bathroom between six people, the most frequent and lengthy occupant being Mazeija, his obese step-cousin. When he saw the new, boxed toothbrush and tube of toothpaste Laura had thoughtfully left by the hand basin, he let out another whoop of happiness.

     ‘I stay here tonight?’ he asked as he looked longingly at the double bed decked out with the freshly laundered, striped bedlinen.

     ‘Well yes… if you want to. That’s why I put some toiletries in the bathroom, and one of Paul’s tee shirts in the chest of drawers. I knew it would be a late night for you, and you have to be back for seven in the morning. It seemed like the perfect opportunity for you to spend your first night here. It won’t worry your uncle if you don’t go back tonight, will it?’

     Igor nearly snorted before he replied. Not having seen his family for over two months because they thought he was already living at the Bedford, nobody was waiting for him. ‘It no a problem,’ he assured her. ‘And I have change of clothes for when I go to the gym in my bag downstairs. ‘I go get et now.’

     Satisfied that she could do no more, and that Igor loved the idea of moving in, Laura handed him the key before following him to the stairwell so she could go up to her flat. He saw the retrieval of his bag as a heaven sent opportunity to slip out the back door and retrieve the tin box containing Nazdia and her babies, but the key wasn’t there because Karen had locked up in his absence. Rescuing her wasn’t an option until the morning, so he returned to his new home on the second floor, bag in hand.

     His beer drunk, Igor decided to call it a night. The softness and warmth of not only the cosy duvet but the fluffy pillows at his back, had the desired soporific effect. He reached out and turned out the bedside lamp on the opposite side of the bed, before reaching for the one next to him.

     As it turned out, that effort wasn’t necessary. The lamp turned itself off before his fingers reached the switch…
    
 
 

 

Author Notes
Please note that the incorrect spelling of Igor's speech is deliberate.

Laura: The owner of the Bedford hotel.

Karen; The chef at the Bedford, and Laura's friend

Igor: The Sous chef at the Bedford who is secretly sleeping in the dry store because he hates staying at his uncle's house.

Nazdia: The pregnant mouse Igor befriended in the dry store who has now given birth.


Chapter 19
Samantha

By alexisleech











From the previous chapter;
 
His beer drunk, Igor decided to call it a night. The softness and warmth of not only the cosy duvet but the fluffy pillows at his back, had the desired soporific effect. He reached over and turned off the bedside lamp on the opposite side of the bed, before turning to the one on the table beside him. Just as his fingers reached the switch, the light went out…
 
    








 
 
Samantha looked down at Igor as he slept, one hand thrown back on the pillow, the other nestled close to his cheek. He reminded her of her lover before she died, and for the first time since she’d found herself trapped in the room, she didn’t feel angry because someone was invading her space. Unlike the other occupants before they stopped letting the room out, this one seemed different. There was a sincerity about him that was very endearing, and when she listened to his conversation with the woman who cleared the room, and saw his obvious enthusiasm when he found out he could sleep there, she’d warmed to him immediately.
 
     ‘Nazdia…’ he muttered in his sleep when she ran her finger across his open palm on the pillow. Samantha pulled her hand away as she felt an unexpected pang of jealousy. Was this new occupant in love with someone? If he was, she would do whatever she had to do to keep them out of this room. She had been alone for too long, with nothing to do other than learn the limitations of her powers via electricity, her only means to connect to the world she once lived in as an attractive, passionate woman.
 
     Samantha reached down again and tried to move a lock of Igor’s hair from his cheek to behind his ear, but nothing happened. Or did it? His left hand suddenly brushed across his cheek exactly where her fingers had been. Could it be that he felt something? He’d mentioned the woman’s name when she touched his hand, so maybe he could. Perhaps they were bonded in some way that made them able to connect.
 
     ‘Can you hear me?’ she whispered in his ear.
 
     This time Igor didn’t react, which disappointed Samantha more than she thought possible. She so missed having a man in her life. Andrew, the lover who had driven her to the edge of despair when he didn’t turn up in time six years ago, had filled her life with love and laughter after years of searching for a soul mate. Swallowing the sleeping pills she’d brought with her had seemed the only option at the time because she certainly didn’t want to live if he no longer loved her. The fact that he did, and had only been late because of a pile-up on the motorway, made that decision the worst in her life. By the time he eventually got there, Samantha was dead, and her spirit, which she felt floating above her body, could only watch the heart-breaking scene below when he rushed to her side and tried to shake her awake.
 
     ‘I love you, Samantha…’ he’d shouted at her lifeless corpse in his arms, the tears streaming down his face. ‘Jemma’s agreed to a divorce… That’s why I wanted to see you. To tell you we can be together.’
 
     The irony of it still made Samantha weep every time she thought about it. Like a macabre work of art painted in her head, the memory plagued her night and day. Why didn’t she wait? When Andrew said he needed to talk to her face to face, she’d assumed he was going to end their relationship. Not for a moment did she think he would leave his wife, however loveless their marriage had become. When she checked into the Bedford, their usual meeting place, she only brought the pills with her in case her suspicions turned out to be correct. After waiting for nearly three hours, she stupidly assumed that they were.
 
     As she looked back down at Igor sleeping peacefully, Samantha made a decision. No more playing with the lights or trying to make her presence felt. She wanted Igor to be happy here, so she wouldn’t be left alone again. She lay on the bed and pretended it was Andrew’s soft, rhythmical breathing she could hear beside her…
 
 
 

**********
 
   
 
As he made his way down to the kitchen to start cooking breakfast for the sixteen guests, Igor couldn’t believe how well he’d slept the night before. With the compliments regarding the Polish evening still ringing in his ears, he was anxious to find out when the event would be repeated. There were enough people on the waiting list to ensure the dining room would be full at least two times over, so he didn’t doubt it would be soon.
 
     ‘Good morning, Igor! How was your first night?' Laura asked when she saw him approaching the reception desk on his way through to the kitchen.
 
     His brilliant smile answered her question before he opened his mouth. ‘I sleep like baby!’ he told her.
 
     Laura let out a sigh of relief. Visions of his lights turning off and on all night had plagued her after she opened the door to Igor’s room the night before. ‘Eh… were the lights okay?’ she couldn’t resist asking.
 
     ‘The lights good, but I need new bulb,’ he told her. ‘One go caput just before I go to sleep.’
 
     Her smile dropped as Laura groaned inwardly. The only thing that would make Igor’s new home impossible to live in was if there was indeed a ghost, and much though she hated to admit it, the three, now four ‘light’ incidents convinced her there was.
 
     ‘It no problem, Boss,’ Igor assured her when he saw the expression on her face. ‘I get new one from dry store. You no worry…’
 
     ‘Ye…. Yes, of course,’ Laura stuttered before she forced a smile. She assumed it would only be a matter of time before Igor realised a new light bulb wasn’t going to solve the problem, but until he did, she might as well try and get ahead of the game. As soon as Igor left to go through to the kitchen, she Googled how to get rid of ghosts…
 
 
 
Igor was surprised to see the kitchen door wide open when he got there. He was equally surprised to see Jenny sitting at the unused prep table having a cup of coffee. Her morning greeting, in the same way as Laura’s, was more of an enquiry regarding his first night in the storeroom.
 
     Igor looked distracted when he answered her, his eyes jumping between the pet box on the kitchen floor and the opened back door. ‘The room good,' he told her. 'I see you bring cat...’ he added, a look of concern etched on his face.
 
     ‘Yes, I’m just letting Jasper get used to his new surroundings. I know we can’t let him loose in the kitchen, so I thought I’d wait till he comes back in for his breakfast before I put him in the dry store. It seems a bit mean to have him locked in there 24/7 with a litter tray. It’s not a problem is it?’
 
     Igor didn’t hang around long enough to answer her. When he realised Jasper was outside, he shot through the back door and ran over to the refuse bin to retrieve the box containing Nazdia and her babies--just as Jasper appeared from behind it licking his lips…
 

 
 

Author Notes My thanks to Cleo85 for the use of this wonderful image.

Please note that the incorrect spelling of Igor's speech is deliberate.

My thanks to clio85 for the use of this wonderful image.

Laura: The owner of the Bedford hotel.

Karen; The chef at the Bedford, and Laura's friend

Igor: The Sous chef at the Bedford who was secretly sleeping in the dry store because he hated staying at his uncle's house.

Nazdia: The pregnant mouse Igor befriended in the dry store who has now given birth and is hidden in a box behind the bin in the car park


Chapter 20
Cat And Mouse

By alexisleech



















The Previous chapter
 
     Igor looked distracted when he answered Jenny, his eyes jumping between the pet box on the kitchen floor and the opened back door. ‘The room good,’ he answered distractedly. ‘I see you bring cat?’ he added, a look of concern etched on his face.
 
     ‘Yes, I’m just letting Jasper get used to the new surroundings. I know we can’t let him loose in the kitchen, so I thought I’d wait till he comes back in for his breakfast before I put him in the dry store. It seems a bit mean to have him locked in there 24/7 with a litter tray. It’s not a problem is it?’
 
     Igor didn’t hang around long enough to answer her. When he realised Jasper was outside, he shot through the back door and ran over to the refuse bin to retrieve the box containing Nazdia and her babies, just as Jasper appeared from behind it licking his lips…

 

**********
  
 
Jasper eyed Igor up and down with a contemptuous look, before shooting past his legs towards the open kitchen door. His Scooby snack had been delicious, but he needed something to wash it down. He didn’t doubt the bowl of creamy milk Jenny had obligingly placed in the pet carrier would do the trick.  
 
     Igor recognised Nazdia’s frantic squeaking immediately, and ran to the bin to extract the tin box. Now beside one of the massive wheels, it lay on its side, the lid open, containing nothing but the torn up kitchen towel and the empty water dish. The five tiny babies Nazdia had given birth to three nights ago were nowhere to be seen, and she was searching frantically all around it as she shot in and out of the ripped shreds of soft paper that lay on the ground beside it.
 
     ‘I sorry, leetle one,’ Igor said, a tear escaping his eye when he saw how distressed she was. In his rush to hide the tin after Karen inadvertently brought it through to the kitchen to make pasta the night before, he had left the lid slightly open because he believed he would be retrieving it before he went to bed. Not for a moment did he think Laura was going to surprise him with his new bedroom on the second floor, nor could he have envisaged Karen locking the back door and removing the key before he could get back out to the carpark to rescue the tin and its precious contents.
 
     Nazdia stopped her demented scurrying around after a few moments, and looked up at Igor with what he could swear were tear-filled eyes. She might be able to produce dozens of babies in rapid succession, but her mothering instinct was as keen as any other creature, and her need to protect and nurture her offspring just as important. When Igor held out his hand, her small black eyes took one last look at the overturned tin, before climbing onto it and twitching her whiskers as she looked up at him.
 
     ‘You have more babies one day, Nazdia,‘ he told her, as he gently stroked the fur on her back with his forefinger. ‘I buy you house and husband, and you be happy again…’
 
 
 
**********
 
 
After Jenny took Jasper through to the dry store in the pet carrier, and shut the door, she returned to the kitchen and grabbed her cup of coffee so she could go and talk to Laura. Igor’s hasty exit out the back door concerned her, especially as he had to cook breakfast for the sixteen guests who were staying in the hotel.
 
     ‘Looks like Igor’s done a runner,' she told Laura as soon as she reached the reception desk. ‘He looked demented when he came through to the kitchen to turn the ovens on, and then he shot out the back door. Maybe the ghost made an appearance last night. Did he say anything to you?’

     Laura shook her head. ‘No, he was as bright as a button when he came down ten minutes ago. All he said was that that he slept like a baby and he needed a new bulb for his lamp. Are you sure he’s done a runner? One of us is going to have to make breakfast if he has, and I’m stuck here until the guests that are leaving today have checked out.’

     Having made the breakfasts for eighteen months before Laura bought the hotel, Jenny was more than able to take Igor’s place, but it was his disappearance that worried her most. She was therefore delighted when she returned to the kitchen to find him putting a large tray of sausages in the oven.
 
     Ah, you’re here!’ she said as she let out a sigh of relief. ‘I was worried when you disappeared. Is everything alright?’
 
     Igor felt Nazdia wriggling in his jacket pocket before she popped her head over its edge. It had been his intention to take her up to his new room after he’d put everything in the oven for breakfast, but Jenny’s return had caught him off-guard. He wrapped his hand gently around Nazdia’s tiny frame, and transferred her to his trouser pocket in the hope she couldn’t be seen when he turned around to face Jenny.
 
     ‘I no like cats…’ he then declared with a melodramatic wave of his hands.
 
     Before Jenny had a chance to say anything, Igor felt Nazdia escaping through the hole in his trouser pocket, and slipping up one of the legs of his boxers. The sensation was ticklish to say the least. ‘No… no…no,’ he yelped as she buried into the soft bedding she discovered at the top of his legs. With his voice rising to a tone that belied his gender, he danced on the spot, his face contorted. ‘I tell you, I no want cat in my kitchen!’ he screeched.
 
     Jenny looked totally taken aback at his outburst. ‘Okay, okay…’ she told him. ‘Keep your pants on, Igor… Jasper is in the dry store, and the door is shut. I won’t let him out until after you’ve finished!’
 
     Nazdia stopped moving long enough for Igor to straighten up and turn his back to Jenny again. He thrust his hand in his pocket and attempted to grab her through the two layers of fabric so she didn’t fall down his trouser leg and make her presence known. Nazdia was having none of it. Having never been inside anyone’s clothing before, she was determined to check out her surroundings. The rear view of Igor jumping from one foot to the other, with his hand jerking around in his pocket, had Jenny transfixed.
 
     ‘I need bulb from the dry store!’ he eventually yelped at her over his shoulder. ‘I no go in there if cat not in box!’
 
     Although she couldn’t understand his urgency at this time of the day, there being light in abundance, Jenny decided to retrieve a bulb from the dry store while Igor finished loading the oven. Whatever was wrong with him, he was clearly in a state, and she was relieved to get out of the kitchen in case she burst out laughing.

     'I be back in minute!' Igor announced when she returned. He then grabbed the boxed bulb from her hand, and made a hasty retreat through the dining room doors...
    
   
    
    

 
 

Author Notes Please note that the incorrect spelling of Igor's speech is deliberate.

Laura: The owner of the Bedford hotel.

Jenny; Another friend of Laura's who's now in charge of housekeeping.

Jasper; Jenny's boyfriend's cat who has come to stay at the Bedford for a few days.

Karen; The chef at the Bedford, and Laura's friend

Igor: The Sous chef at the Bedford who was secretly sleeping in the dry store before Laura turned the haunted storeroom on the second floor back into a bedroom for him.

Nazdia: The pregnant mouse Igor befriended in the dry store, who has now given birth.


Chapter 21
Mazeija arrives

By alexisleech






Igor, a Polish Sous chef, had been sleeping secretly in the dry store of the Bedford hotel until his boss, Laura, overheard him talking to his pet mouse, Nazdia, one night. Assuming he was only using the dry store for occasional, clandestine meetings with his girlfriend, she converted the long abandoned storeroom on the second floor back into a bedroom. She hoped it wasn’t haunted, as past rumors suggested, but at least Igor would be able to meet his girlfriend there instead.
 








 
 
Igor’s second Polish evening turned out to be as successful as the first, except this time he had an added bonus. One of the guests, the daughter of a Polish guy who had booked a table of ten for his birthday, happened to be the father of a very pretty girl called Catarina, someone Igor had noticed several times on his daily visit to the gym at the local swimming baths. When her father insisted on giving his compliments to the chef after their meal, Igor didn’t hesitate to accept when Catarina asked if he would like to join them for a drink in the bar after he finished in the kitchen.

     What Igor wasn’t aware of, however, was the fact his step-cousin, Mazeija, the sex-starved nymphomaniac who had caused him to move out of his uncle’s house in the first place, had seen the advert in the Herald for the Polish evening. Conceitedly convinced his lack of contact was purely as a result of the pressure of his job, she decided to pay him a visit. When she arrived towards the end of the evening, she presented herself at the reception desk where Laura was sorting out everyone’s bills.

     ‘I come see Igor,’ she announced.

     Laura, who’d been rushed off her feet all night, looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. The woman must have weighed at least three hundred pounds, and was wearing one of the most tasteless outfits she’d ever seen in her life. Her turquoise dress only reached half way down her corpulent thighs, and clung to Mazeija’s ample frame like a sausage skin about to explode. The six inch platform heels, which under normal circumstances might have made her legs look longer, had the opposite effect because the gold chains around her rippling ankles looked as though they were about to cut off the blood supply to her feet at any moment. Could this be Nazdia? Laura hoped not. The thought of Igor having a romantic attachment to this woman completely destroyed the notion that had inspired her to find him a bedroom in the first place.

     ‘Eh, I’m afraid he’s still busy in the Kitchen, Laura told her. ‘Would you like me to tell him you’re here?’

     ‘I prefer surprise…’ Mazeija told her with a wink that convinced Laura her worst fears were correct.

     ‘Are you Nazdia?’ she tentatively asked.

     ‘No, I Mazeija… Me and Igor very close,’ she added, which led Laura to believe she must have remembered Igor’s lover’s name incorrectly.

     Laura still wasn’t sure what to do, but her need to remove the embarrassing Mazeija from the reception area was her main priority. To say she looked like an overweight prostitute was an understatement.

     ‘’I wait in Igor’s room?’  Mazeija suggested.

     Laura was past caring. All she knew was she had to do something, and quickly. Everyone who was walking through to the bar from the dining room, started to snigger when they caught sight of her. Laura checked her watch, and in a desperate attempt to get rid of her, handed Mazeija the spare key to Igor’s room. Who was she to cast aspersions? If Igor was into big, brash, Polish women, it was none of her business….
    
 
Samantha couldn’t wait for Igor to return to his room. Since his arrival two weeks ago, she’d had a lovely time watching him, and an even lovelier time when she saw him strip off every evening before he went for a shower. There was no doubt about it, he was a fine figure of a man, and reminded her of Andrew, her lover before she died. Her temptation to do a flickering light show was almost too much to bear at times, but she resolutely decided to abstain from making her ghostly presence felt. Under no circumstances did she want him to leave. The mouse had been a bit of an intrusion, but when she heard Igor call it Nazdia, Samantha was delighted. If the only thing he loved in the mortal world was a mouse, then she was happy to share her space with it.

     The arrival of a woman who resembled a female Shrek was a different matter, however. The minute she entered the room, Samantha felt her hackles rise. To add insult to injury, the corpulent beast of a woman stripped off her dress within minutes of her arrival, and draped herself across the bed with nothing on but a tiny G-string, which became completely lost in the folds of fat that now took up most of the bed. No way was Samantha standing for that.

     Her first resort was to turn the bedside lights off and on to the beat of ‘He’s my man,’ which had Mazeija looking from one light to the other with her jaw dropped open. But it wasn’t enough to scare her off because she assumed it was an electrical fault. Whilst letting out a stream of Polish profanities, she dragged herself off the bed and pulled the sockets out of the wall after she turned the main light back on. Samantha was fuming. The light show was usually enough to do the trick. She then turned her attention to the TV, which, like all the other electrical items in the room, was still plugged in.

     That got Mazeija’s attention, especially when Samantha flicked between the channels in rapid succession, the volume turned up as loud as possible. As Mazeija stared at the TV, a look of horror etched on her face, Samantha turned on the kettle, the microwave and the toaster, all in rapid succession. Two seconds later, Mazeija jumped from the bed, grabbed her discarded dress, and shot out the door. She then ran down the passageway screaming, her pendulous breasts almost wrapped around her neck.

     Unaware of what was going on upstairs in his bedroom, Igor had changed into a fresh chef’s jacket, and joined Catarina and her family in the bar for a drink. He was delighted to see that the only chair available in the tightly squeezed group of ten was next to Catarina. Within seconds of his sitting down, they were deep in conversation, the need to speak English abandoned.

     The ridiculous sight of Mazeija flying through the reception area as she attempted to pull her dress back over her head, made everyone in the bar crane their necks to see what all the comotion was about. Not Igor. As he stared into Catarina’s beautiful blue eyes, he was totally oblivious to everything that was going on around him….
 

Author Notes My thanks to Renate-Bertodi from Fan Art for the use of this excellent image

Laura; The owner of the Bedford hotel

Igor; The Sous chef at the Bedford hotel

Nazdia; The mouse Igor befriended when he was secretly sleeping in the dry store.

Mazeija; Igor's half cousin who caused him to leave his uncles house after he arrived in the UK because of her unending sexual advances.

Samantha; The Bedford's resident ghost who had been without company for years because her room was turned into a storeroom after she frightened all guests who slept in it.



Chapter 22
Wrong Conclusions

By alexisleech




















 
From the previous chapter
 
Unaware of what was going on upstairs in his bedroom, Igor had changed into a fresh chef’s jacket, and joined Catarina's family in the bar for a drink. He was delighted to see that the only chair available in the tightly squeezed group of ten was next to her. Within seconds of him sitting down, they were deep in conversation, the need to speak English abandoned.
 
     The ridiculous sight of Mazeija flying through the reception area as she attempted to pull her dress back over her head, made everyone in the bar crane their necks to try and see what all the commotion was about. Not Igor. As he stared into Catarina’s beautiful blue eyes, he was totally oblivious to everything that was going on around him…
 

**********
 
Not having witnessed Mazeija’s hasty and undignified exit, Laura assumed Igor’s happy demeanour on Saturday morning was due to a night of passion. Although the thought disgusted her, Mazeija's surprise visit must have pleased him, because when he came through to the reception area after breakfast, he was grinning from ear to ear.
 
     ‘Well, you’re looking pleased with yourself,’ Laura teased after he plonked himself down in the chair opposite her at the desk.
 
     Igor sat back and stretched, as though his body was overcharged with pent up energy and emotion. ‘I in love…’ he told Laura. ‘Last night was best night of my life…’
 
     Laura didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The thought of super fit Igor being pinned to the bed by that atrocious woman wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on, however happy it made him. All her soppy, romantic aspirations for him were now a thing of the past.
 
     ‘Really?’ she asked, her disbelief sounding clearly in her voice.
 
     Igor looked serious for a moment. He didn’t want Laura to think he didn’t mean what he’d just said. ‘I knew the minute I look into her eyes. I theenk she the one I wait for all my life…’
 
     Oh God! Laura groaned inwardly as she tried to dispel the image from her head of Mazeija tripping down the aisle in a voluminous white dress with Igor on her arm. That vision was nearly as hideous as the thought of them having it off in his bedroom upstairs. Bearing in mind she only originally knew Igor had a girlfriend because she overheard him talking to her in the dry store after he ‘saved’ her at Carl’s birthday party, Laura decided to feign some ignorance regarding the relationship.
 
     ‘Have you known each other long?’
 
     The question returned Igor to the dreamy eyed state he’d sat down with. ‘I see her many times, but last night was first time we really get to know each other. Now I certain, she the one for me…’
 
     Over my dead body, Laura thought to herself. If giving Igor a bedroom in the hotel had resulted in such a catastrophe, and bonded him to that awful woman properly for the first time, then she felt responsible for it happening. If there was any chance that they got married, the thought of Mazeija taking up residence in the hotel made Laura feel physically sick.
 
     ‘Well, it’s early days, Igor. You don’t want to rush into anything…’
 
     The thought of Catarina filled Igor’s head with visions of happiness for years to come. When they’d talked for over an hour the night before, Igor could sense Catarina felt the same way. It was as though they had been in a little bubble of their own, and everything else that was going on around them seemed to pan out of vision. He couldn’t wait to see her again. That thought made him look at his watch and jump up from the chair. He’d arranged to meet her at the gym in an hour’s time, so he needed to get a move on.
 
     ‘You no worry, Boss, I take things slow… but I don’t want other man to get her heart before me.’
 
     Not much chance of that! Laura thought. She couldn’t imagine there were many men queuing up to ask for Mazeija’s hand, with the exception of a few perverts. She didn’t know what she could do to stop Igor from making one of the biggest mistakes of his life, but come hell or high water, she would think of something….
 

 
**********
 

 
‘Honestly, you should have seen her,’ Laura moaned when Jenny came down from housekeeping and asked if she'd met Igor's girlfriend. ‘Not only was she huge, but she was wearing a dress that barely covered her arse, far less her boobs. They nearly flopped out on the desk when she leaned over to talk to me. Everyone who saw her started laughing. If I hadn’t got rid of her by giving her the spare key to Igor’s room, I reckon our reputation as a salubrious establishment could have been totally destroyed.’
 
     ‘She couldn’t have been that bad,’ Jenny chided. ‘I mean, Igor seems smitten. He couldn’t stop prattling on about her when I arrived this morning. In his eyes she’s perfect, so who are we to say otherwise?’
 
     Laura couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had hoped to enlist Jenny’s help in getting rid of the wretched woman and making Igor see sense.
 
     ‘Well, I don’t get it,’ she told Jenny. ‘He’s a good looking guy, and now he’s got a few muscles and got rid of his pot belly, he could probably have his pick of attractive girls. Why would he go for someone who probably weighs twice as much as he does, and dresses like a prostitute?’
 
     Jenny shrugged her shoulders and suggested it might be a cultural thing. ‘I mean, there are some countries where they actually fatten up the brides-to-be, because it makes them more attractive to their future husband. Maybe they’re like that in Poland.’

     ‘You think?’
 
     Jenny shrugged her shoulders. ‘No I don’t, but you’re the one asking the question. I’m only trying to suggest some possible answers.’
 
     Convinced that Jenny might be on to something, Laura did her usual and logged onto Google. Unfortunately the question ‘Do Polish men prefer fat women?’ didn’t show any results in the affirmative. What the exercise did do however, was show up Laura’s last search on Google, when she’d tapped in the question ‘How to get rid of ghosts.’
 
     Now, there’s an idea…’ Laura said, her mind creating a plethora of scenarios in her head.
 
     ‘What?’
 
     'Ghosts! If we could scare Igor’s girlfriend with ghostly happening in his room—that might get rid of her…’
 
     ‘But I thought you said he hadn’t said anything about ghosts in the two weeks he’s lived here?’
 
     ‘He hasn’t, but I’m sure we could think of something to suggest there is one.’
 
     ‘What, and scare off Igor as well? That doesn’t sound like much of a plan! Having Igor living in has been a godsend. You don’t want him to leave, do you?’
 
     ‘No, she didn’t, but Laura decided to think of a way she could scare off the revolting woman she thought was Igor’s girlfriend. The night before was a perfect example. Laura was sure she could do something ‘spooky,’ if the opportunity arose again…




 

Author Notes Laura; The owner of the Bedford hotel

Igor; The Sous chef at the Bedford hotel

Nazdia; The mouse Igor befriended when he was secretly sleeping in the dry store.

Mazeija; Igor's half cousin who caused him to leave his uncles house after he arrived in the UK because of her unending sexual advances.

Catarina; The Polish girl Igor has admired many times at his local gym, but only met for the first time the night before.

Samantha; The Bedford's resident ghost who had been without company for years because her room was turned into a storeroom after she frightened all guests who slept in it. She is determined not to frighten Igor though, because she loves having him there.


Chapter 23
Ghostly Plans

By alexisleech

Because Igor had been in the bar talking to his new girlfriend, and Laura hadn’t been at the reception desk, neither of them witnessed the hasty and undignified exit of the scantily dressed and corpulent Mazeija after the ghost, Samantha, scared her off.

The following day, Igor tells Laura he has fallen in love, so she assumes he’s referring to the ghastly Mazeija, not Catarina, the beautiful Polish girl he had admired from a distance at his local gym, but in fact had only met for the first time the night before.

Determined to get rid of the woman Laura thinks is Igor’s girlfriend, Laura decides to make sure Mazeija thinks there is a ghost in Igor’s room, should she return.

 




 
Igor couldn’t get over how well he and Catarina were getting on. During the week, they met every day at the gym, and afterwards they would sit in the coffee shop and tell each other about their lives before and after they arrived in the UK, their eyes holding each other’s gaze in a way that showed equal respect and admiration. The fact they could relax and talk in their native tongue made it all the more perfect.
 
     By the following Friday, Igor was walking on air. Although they’d touched occasionally when they sat opposite each other at the coffee shop, they were only momentary digit clashes, when they both reached for the same thing at the table. When Catarina not only took Igor’s hand after they got up to leave, but kissed him on the lips before they parted in front of the leisure complex, Igor knew she felt the same way about him, as he felt about her. Friday was her night off at the bar where she worked, so they arranged to meet at the hotel after Igor finished in the kitchen. After he told Catarina his room number, and assured her he’d leave the door unlocked, they shared one last kiss that left neither of them in any doubt as to what might happen later that evening.
 
 

**********
 
 
Laura had spent the last five days researching how to make Igor’s girlfriend believe there was a ghost in his bedroom, should she turn up. For the most part the ideas were unusable because she didn’t want to leave any evidence for Igor to find after the event, but she’d at last found something she could use. She’d downloaded an app on her phone that gave her a choice of twelve ‘spooky’ Halloween ringtones, and the one she’d chosen, the one that sounded like a moaning, creepy voice, with the sound of dragging chains in the background, was perfect for what she had in mind. If, like the week before, Mazeija turned up and insisted on waiting for Igor in his bedroom, Laura was determined to frighten the woman out of her skin by disconnecting the electricity in his room before ringing her secreted mobile. With a bit of luck, Mazeija would be long gone by the time Igor finished in the kitchen, and Laura would have succeeded in putting a stop to them meeting at the hotel again.
 
 
**********
 
 
After Catarina arrived at the Bedford at quarter to ten, she went straight up to Igor’s room on the second floor. When she opened the door, she was delighted to see he’d lit several candles, which made the room look romantic and intimate. With no need to turn on the lights, she sat down on the sofa beside the side table where Igor had thoughtfully left an opened bottle of white wine in an ice bucket, two glasses by its side.
 
     ‘Oh, Igor,’ she said in a dreamy voice. It was typical of him to be so thoughtful. She might only have known him for a week, but after five dates, she knew he was one of the kindest, most considerate people she had ever met. Put that together with the fact he was fit and good looking, she felt seriously gooey inside as she waited for him to arrive. She would have to get a taxi home after midnight, or her parents would worry, but Catarina didn’t doubt that the two hours they had together would be wonderful.
 
     Samantha, who had watched her from the corner of the room for a full five minutes, was not at all pleased. Who was this girl? She didn’t like the look of her any more than she liked the look of the obese trollop she’d managed to scare off the week before. This one was very attractive, and had an excellent figure, which in a sense made her even more of a threat. Igor was hers, and hers alone, so this pretty little thing had to be got rid of as soon as possible. 
 
     She was just about to start her flashing light show with the bedside lamps, when she noticed the light had gone out on the fridge. Sure enough, when she attempted to turn on the lights and TV, nothing happened. Without an electricity supply, Samantha was literally powerless to put her haunting antics into effect.
 
 
**********
 
 
After Laura threw the electric switch for the lights and sockets in Igor’s room, she grabbed the phone to ring her mobile. Igor had come down to the kitchen at six, and after he told her his girlfriend would be arriving about ten, and that he’d left his room unlocked so she could let herself in, Laura didn’t hesitate to put her plan into action by hiding her mobile under his bed. Her duplicity made her feel guilty, but if it scared off that horrible woman, and stopped her from staying the night, it had to be worth it. She was just about to press the red button to activate the spooky ring tone on her hidden phone, when Igor appeared at the reception desk.

     ‘It okay I finish now, boss?’ he asked her, a huge, cheesy grin stretching from ear to ear. ‘Catarina is waiting for me up in my room, and I promise I be there soon…’

     Laura nearly dropped the phone. ‘Who… who’s Catarina?’ she stuttered. ‘I thought your girlfriend was called Mazeija?’

     Having no idea that his half-cousin had called in to visit him the week before, Igor looked confused. ‘No, my girlfriend called Catarina. She the girl I met last week at the Polish evening. The one I tell you about…’

     ‘Back in a tick!’ Laura yelped when she realised her mistake and shot into the office to put the electricity back on in Igor’s room. When she returned to the desk a few seconds later, she looked back at Igor with a relieved smile. ‘I hope you and your girlfriend have a lovely evening,’ she gushed.

     ‘I sure we do,’ he told her, before turning tail and almost running towards the staircase.

     As she watched Igor take the stairs two at a time, Laura prayed the electricity being off for a few moments hadn’t scared his girlfriend in any way.
 
 
**********
 
 
Samantha was relieved when the sound of the fridge motor kicking in heralded the return of the electricity supply to Igor’s room. The frustration of not being able to play with the lights, or any of the other electrical appliances for that matter, had left her feeling totally frustrated.
 
     Now she could get rid of that wretched girl….






 

Author Notes My thanks to Cleo85 for the use of this wonderful image.

Laura; The owner of the Bedford hotel

Igor; The Sous chef at the Bedford hotel

Nazdia; The mouse Igor befriended when he was secretly sleeping in the dry store.

Mazeija; Igor's half cousin who caused him to leave his uncles house after he arrived in the UK because of her unending sexual advances.

Catarina; The Polish girl Igor has admired many times at his local gym, but only met for the first time the night before.

Samantha; The Bedford's resident ghost who had been without company for years because her room was turned into a storeroom after she frightened all guests who slept in it. She is determined not to frighten Igor though, because she loves having him there.


Chapter 24
The Kiss

By alexisleech








From the previous chapter.

Samantha was relieved when the sound of the fridge motor kicking in heralded the return of the electricity supply to Igor’s room. The frustration of not being able to play with the lights, or any of the other electrical appliances for that matter, had left her feeling totally frustrated. Now she could get rid of that wretched girl… 
 
 






 
 


 

As Igor leapt up the stairs two at a time, he could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest. Being able to spend time with Catarina without the prying eyes of everyone at the gym or café, was something he’d dreamt about since he’d met her the week before. He stopped momentarily outside his room to let his breathing slow down as he leaned on the door frame, before he straightened his chef’s jacket and ran his fingers through his hair to catch his fringe back from where it had flopped into his eyes as he ran up the stairs.
 
     Samantha, who was about to start her light show to scare off Catarina, hesitated when the smiling and composed Igor walked through the door.
 
     ‘Catarina…’ he gushed as soon as he saw her sitting on the sofa, sipping her glass of wine. ‘It so good to see you…’
 
     Samantha held her breath as a spiel of Polish erupted from Catarina’s lips. What was she saying? Whatever it was, Igor seemed to like it. Within seconds they were wrapped in each other’s arms, their lips meeting with a passion that reminded Samantha of exactly how it was when she and Andrew had met in this very room all those years ago. For the first time since Igor moved in, Samantha was glad he couldn’t hear her. If he could, her frustrated groans would have sent him running from the room never to return. She wrapped her arms around herself, the longing and need to be loved escaping her lips in inaudible gasps. Like a moth to the flame, she moved towards them, her need to be part of their passion drawing her closer and closer until she felt herself melting into Catarina’s body. Oh, such joy! She felt Igor’s lips melt into hers, his arms gripped tightly around her as the feel of his skin stimulated every part of her that had been woman when she’d existed in her mortal coil.
 
     When Catarina suddenly drew back, Samantha literally jumped out of her newly acquired skin. How could she stop now?
 
      ‘Catarina… you okay?’ Igor asked when he saw how pale she was.
 
      Assuming it was the effect of their kiss that had made her feel faint, Catarina looked back at Igor with a loving smile. ‘That was amazing…’ she  gasped.
 
     ‘Amazing, good?’ 
 
     ‘Yes… Oh, yes,’ Catarina nodded, although in truth she’d never felt more disorientated in her life. ‘Your kiss…’
 
     His arms were around her again, his lips seeking hers. Samantha didn’t hesitate before she slipped back into Catarina’s body….

 
 
**********
 
 
Laura held her head in her hands for a moment as she considered the catastrophe that might have happened. If she’d managed to put her plan into action, she could have ruined everything she’d worked towards when she gave Igor a home in the hotel.
 
     ‘It can’t be that bad,’ Karen quipped when she came through from the kitchen and saw the look on Laura’s face.
 
     ‘Want a bet?’ Laura groaned, the possible consequences of her interference still weighing heavy. ‘I’ve been such an idiot…’
 
     Karen pulled the chair out from the opposite side of the desk and plonked herself down so she could enjoy the last of her refreshing spritzer before setting off for home. She usually spent this chilling-out period with Igor after they finished in the kitchen, but his hasty retreat the minute the last table was served had inspired her to seek out Laura’s company instead.
 
     ‘Why... what have you done?'
 
     Before she answered, Laura shook her head and looked heavenward. Because Karen hadn’t been privy to the information regarding possible hauntings in Igor’s room before he moved in, Laura didn’t see any point in mentioning it now.
 
     ‘It’s not what I’ve done so much. It’s what I nearly did. I didn’t realise Igor’s girlfriend was the girl he met at the Polish evening last week. I thought it was a gross woman who turned up while he was still working in the kitchen. Let’s just say I realised my mistake in the nick of time.’
 
     ‘Thank God for that,’ Karen chortled. ‘I haven’t seen Igor this happy since he arrived two months ago. He might be driving me crazy in the kitchen while he rattles on about the wonderful Catarina, but it’s worth it to see him so happy. What were you going to do?’
 
     She felt so embarrassed, Laura decided not to tell Karen about the ‘spooky’ ringtone she’d downloaded onto her mobile before hiding it under Igor’s bed. She would retrieve it after he came down to make breakfast in the morning, and return the ringtone to its normal, boring state then.
 
     ‘I thought I’d switch off the electricity supply to his room, so the woman I thought was his girlfriend would be left in the dark,’ she admitted instead.
 
    Karen burst out laughing. ‘Well, that wouldn’t have worked. Igor popped up to his bedroom at nine-thirty to light a load of scented candles he bought today. If you’d turned off the lights, it probably wouldn’t have made any difference.’
 
     ‘Really?’ Laura let out a sigh of relief. The electricity had only been turned off for a couple of minutes before she discovered her mistake, but it had still worried her.
 
     ‘Anyway, I’ve got to run,’ Karen announced before she downed the remains of her drink and stood up to leave. ‘I’ve got a date with Mark. We’re going to snuggle up on the sofa and watch Big Brother on TV tonight, so I better get going.’
 
     After she left, Laura decided to follow suit. All the guests were either in their rooms or in the bar, so she could leave it to Dominic, the barman, to look after everything until he finished for the night. After locking the office door and switching the phone to her top-floor flat, Laura made her way up the stairs.
 
    
**********
 
 
     ‘Damn!’ Karen said out loud as she was about to drive out of the Bedford carpark. In her haste to leave, she’d forgotten to lock the kitchen door, a job usually done by Igor because he lived on the premises. If she had to park up and return to the hotel, it would mean she wouldn’t get home in time to see the beginning of Big Brother. Karen was sure Laura wouldn't mind going through to the kitchen to lock the door, so she picked up her mobile to call her….    
 
 

Author Notes My thanks to Cleo85 for the use of this wonderful image.

Laura; The owner of the Bedford hotel

Igor; The Sous chef at the Bedford hotel

Karen; The head chef at the Bedford, and Laura's friend

Mazeija; Igor's half cousin who caused him to leave his uncles house after he arrived in the UK because of her unending sexual advances.

Catarina; The Polish girl Igor has admired many times at his local gym, but only met for the first time the week before.

Samantha; The Bedford's resident ghost who had been without company for years because her room was turned into a storeroom after she frightened all guests who slept in it. She is determined not to frighten Igor though because she loves having him there.


Chapter 25
A Ghostly Call

By alexisleech



From the previous chapter

Laura had decided to scare off the woman she thought was Igor’s girlfriend by switching off the lights in his room and ringing her mobile with the recently acquired, ghostly ringtone, which she’d hidden under his bed earlier on. Fortunately, she finds out that the girl waiting for Igor is not the corpulent Mazeija who had turned up the week before, but a pretty Polish girl he’d met at the gym, so she aborts her plan, before calling it a night and making her way up to her top floor flat.
 
 











 
Laura nearly jumped out of her skin when she collided with Igor on the second-floor landing.
 
     ‘I not know what to do… Catarina go all floppy!’ he told her in a panic-stricken voice.
 
     Laura nearly burst out laughing. ‘Floppy?’ she repeated, the smile twitching at the edges of her mouth.
 
     ‘It no funny!’ Igor cried before he grabbed Laura’s arm and propelled her down the corridor towards his room.
 
     Remembering her experience when she'd tried Marihuana for the first time three weeks before, Laura turned to Igor with a raised eyebrow as they reached his bedroom door. ‘What was she doing before she went all floppy?
 
     A look of embarrassment flashed across Igor’s face. ‘I just kees her…’
 
     Laura thought back to the first time her husband kissed her when she'd literally gone weak at the knees. Yes, ‘floppy’ was probably an excellent description of the way she felt at the time. As soon as Igor opened the door, and she saw Catarina laid on the bed with a dreamy look on her face, Laura wondered if it had been the same for her.
 
      ‘I so worried!’ Igor told the seemingly recovered Catarina when he shot over to the bed and took her hand. ‘I bring my boss because I theenk you sick…’
 
     Catarina couldn't get over the fact he was making such a fuss. Yes, she had felt faint, but it only lasted for a few seconds.
 
     ‘I… I’m sorry,’ she said as she sat up. ‘I don’t know what happened. It was almost as though someone…’ She shook her head when she realised that what she was about to say would sound ridiculous. ‘…I should have eaten something before I came,’ she said instead. ‘I think drinking on an empty stomach made me feel lightheaded,’ she added with a nod in the direction of her abandoned wine glass.
 
     Laura wasn’t convinced. Catarina’s aborted sentence worried her. Much though she didn’t want to admit it, she was concerned that the ‘someone’ might have something to do with the ghost that had reputedly haunted Igor’s room. When she’d Googled the question ‘how to get rid of ghosts’ after the lights mysteriously turned themselves on and off, she ended up reading several articles regarding poltergeist activity. Seeing Catarina looking and sounding so disorientated made Laura wonder if what she’d read might be correct.
 
     ‘Would you like me to get you something from the kitchen?’ she asked.
 
     Catarina thanked her but assured her it wasn’t necessary. Sensing her embarrassment, Laura decided to say goodnight and leave them in peace. Whatever had happened, the girl seemed fine now.
 
    ‘You sure you okay?’ Igor asked Catarina as soon as Laura left.

     By way of an answer, she patted the bed beside her and held out her hand…

 
**********
 

Samantha had been tempted to merge into Catarina’s body again as soon as she and Igor started to kiss, but she now knew what would happen if she did. That would be even more frustrating than watching them make love. With a resigned sigh, she’d settled on being a voyeur. At least that way she could be reminded of the passion she and Andrew enjoyed before she died.
 
     When they at last pulled apart, Igor felt wonderful. Making love to Catarina had been one of the best experiences of his life, and judging by the contented smile on her face, it had been good for her too.
 
     ‘You look happy…’ he told her as he rolled on his side and stroked her cheek.
 
     Catarina hooked her leg over his and nestled into his chest. Happy wasn’t a big enough word to describe the way she felt. Although she’d had other lovers, none of them had made her feel the way Igor did. ‘I am,’ she told him. ‘Are you?’
 
    His smile stretched from ear to ear before he kissed the top of her head. ‘Very… you are so beautiful, Catarina. I can’t believe how lucky I am.’
 
     She lifted her head from his chest and looked up at him with a loving smile. ‘I’m the lucky one. Meeting you has changed my life. I thought I would have to go back to Poland to meet someone like you. Just think, if Papa hadn’t arranged his birthday party here…‘
 
     Her words trailed off when she suddenly looked at her watch. ‘Oh my God, Igor. Do you know what time it is?’
 
     Igor didn’t have a clue, nor did he care.
 
     Catarina tore herself from his arms and started to pull on her discarded clothes almost as quickly as she’d taken them off. ‘It’s ten to twelve, and I promised my parents I’d be back by midnight!’
 
     Igor leapt off the bed and started to pull his clothes on too. ‘Will I call a cab?’
 
     She shook her head as she slipped her feet into her pumps. ‘I could be home by the time it gets here. I only live down the road.’
 
     ‘Then I come with you. I’m not having my beautiful lady walking home alone…’
 
 
**********
 
 
Karen still wasn’t sure what to do. Having not succeeded in contacting Laura to tell her about the unlocked kitchen door before she left the Bedford car park, she’d forgotten all about it after she got home and joined Mark on the sofa to watch Big Brother.
 
     ‘It’ll be fine,’ Mark assured her when they turned off the TV and went through to their bedroom after it finished. ‘I’m sure the kitchen door has been left unlocked before. What could happen?’
 
     If she hadn’t signed for the huge delivery of fresh poultry and meat that was delivered earlier that day, Karen would have agreed with him, but the thought of hundreds of pounds of food being stolen by someone who might chance upon the open door, was now making her fret.
 
     ‘Do you think it’s too late to phone her?’ she asked Mark. ‘I tried the hotel number earlier, but it just rang out. I think she must have forgotten to transfer her calls to the flat.’
 
     Having looked forward to cuddling up with Karen after they went to bed, Mark realised his chances were slim if she was worrying about the unlocked door. ‘Then phone her mobile,’ he suggested. ‘I’m sure she won’t mind when you explain what happened. It’s Igor’s job to lock up, not yours.’
 
     Karen burst out laughing as he stepped out of his boxers. There was no doubt in her mind that an unlocked door was the last thing on Mark’s mind. ‘Okay,’ she giggled as she grabbed her mobile. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute...’
 
 
**********
 
 
Samantha lay on the bed where Igor and Catarina had made love before their hasty departure. Watching them had unsettled her so much. It had reminded her of how it was with Andrew. Their nights together at the hotel were not only passionate, but loving as well, and just like Igor and Catarina, they had talked as lovers do afterwards, their bodies flushed with the afterglow of their lovemaking. She closed her eyes and imagined his arms around her, his lips on hers, and the aching inside her was so intense she could hardly bear it.
 
     ‘Oh, Andrew,’ she cried. ‘I miss you so much…’
 
     Her eyes snapped open when the sound of a ghostly voice filled the room….
    
 
 

Author Notes For those who haven't read the previous chapters, the 'ghostly' voice is actually the ringtone on Laura's mobile phone, which she hid under the bed because she wanted to frighten Mazeija, the woman she mistakenly thought was Igor's girlfriend.

My thanks to Cleo85 for the use of this wonderful image.

Please note Igor's speech is sometimes spelt incorrectly deliberately.

Laura; The owner of the Bedford hotel

Igor; The Sous chef at the Bedford hotel

Karen; The head chef at the Bedford, and Laura's friend

Mazeija; Igor's half cousin who caused him to leave his uncle's house after he arrived in the UK because of her unending sexual advances.

Catarina; The Polish girl Igor has admired many times at his local gym, but only met for the first time the week before.

Samantha; The Bedford's resident ghost who had been without company for years because her room was turned into a storeroom after she frightened all guests who slept in it. She is determined not to frighten Igor though because she loves having him there.

Andrew; The lover who turned up too late to stop Samantha from committing suicide several years before.


Chapter 26
A Ghostly Call Part Two

By alexisleech

Laura had decided to scare off the woman she thought was Igor’s girlfriend by switching off the lights in his room and ringing her mobile with the recently acquired, ghostly ringtone that she’d hidden under his bed. Fortunately, she finds out the girl waiting for Igor is not the corpulent Mazeija who had turned up the week before, but a pretty Polish girl he’d met at the gym, so she aborts her plan. On the way to her top floor flat, she bumps into Igor. He’s in a state of panic because Catarina nearly passed out when he kissed her. Unbeknown to either of them, Samantha had possessed Catarina's body while they kissed, but she jumped back out again when Catarina felt faint. Satisfied that Catarina is fine, Laura leaves them in peace and goes to her flat. After she leaves, Igor and Catarina make love, then Igor walks her home.



From the previous chapter

Samantha lay on the bed where Igor and Catarina had made love before their hasty departure. Watching them had unsettled her so much. It had reminded her of how it was with Andrew. Their nights together at the hotel were not only passionate, but loving as well, and just like Igor and Catarina, they had talked as lovers do afterwards, their bodies flushed with the afterglow of their lovemaking. She closed her eyes and imagined his arms around her, his lips on hers, and the aching inside her was so intense she could hardly bear it.
 
     ‘Oh, Andrew,’ she cried. ‘I miss you so much…’
 
     Her eyes snapped open when the sound of a ghostly voice filled the room.
    

 

**********
 
 
All around the bed there seemed to be a halo of light as the voice called out to her. The sound of rattling chains echoing in the background was one of the scariest things Samantha had ever heard both in this life and the last.
 
     ‘Andrew…’ she whispered. ‘Andrew… is it you?’
 
     The voice let out another agonised moan and the chains clanked again, which had Samantha pulling up her knees to her chest and hugging them as she cowered on the bed. Had her Andrew died and ended up in hell? And if that was the case, had he been sent to get her? Much though she loved him, the thought of ending up in a place that represented a fate worse than death, filled her with a feeling of incredible dread. Did she deserve to go to hell? She had hoped not, although she knew committing suicide was regarded as a sin by many. Maybe it was because she had an affair with a married man who had been joined to his wife in the eyes of God. Andrew had told her he and his wife no longer loved each other, but what if that didn’t matter? Her Catholic upbringing had taught her that the sanctity of marriage should never be broken, the reason she’d assumed Andrew would never leave his wife. Yes, that she decided, was why he had been sent to get her.

     ‘Please, Andrew…’ she sobbed. ‘Please don’t take me there…’

     Suddenly, it went silent, and the dim light that had radiated from under the bed disappeared…
 
**********
 
Laura glanced up from the TV when a flicker of movement on the CCTV monitor caught her eye. Although there was nothing anyone could steal from the reception area where the camera was located, Laura still liked to keep an eye on it until she went to bed. When she saw it was Igor and Catarina leaving through the front door, she let out a sigh of relief. Having to get out of her pyjamas and go downstairs to deal with a roaming guest was the last thing she wanted at this time of night. She also realised it would give her the opportunity to retrieve her mobile phone from under Igor’s bed, instead of getting it in the morning after he went down to the kitchen to cook breakfast. She hadn’t really thought things through when she put it there in the first place, and should it start ringing and Igor discover it, she had no way of explaining why it was there in the first place.
 
     With the retrieval of her phone foremost in her mind, Laura quickly pulled on her dressing gown and shot down the stairs before she padded quietly along to Igor’s room, the master key in her hand…
 
 
**********
 
 
Mark was beginning to feel very frustrated. What had started as a relaxing evening watching Big Brother, with the added bonus of hopefully making love to his wife after it was finished, had turned into a huge disappointment because Karen was still fretting about the bloody kitchen door being unlocked at the Bedford.
 
     ‘But you don’t understand!’ she wailed. ‘There must be about four hundred pounds worth of meat and poultry in the walk-in chiller. Not only is it valuable, it would take me hours to replace all that stuff at short notice, and nobody delivers on a Saturday. I have a fiftieth birthday party booked for thirty-six people tomorrow night. It would be a total disaster if it was stolen.’
 
     ‘And she’s not answering either of her phones?’ Mark asked as he feigned interest in what Karen was obviously turning into a full-scale drama in her head.
 
     She shot him an irritated look. ‘I told you. I tried to phone the hotel number before I left the carpark, and I’ve just tried her mobile. She didn’t answer either of them. I think I’m just going to have to go back. I won’t get a wink of sleep worrying about it if I don’t.’
 
     Mark flopped back on the pillows and realised that making love to Karen definitely wasn’t going to happen if she went back to the hotel to lock up. ‘Why don’t you try ringing her one more time?’ he suggested as a last ditch attempt to put their evening back on track. ‘She might have been in the bar or on her way to her flat when you rang before. There could be a dozen reasons why she didn’t pick up. Anything’s got to be better than you driving all the way back there when she could just nip down the stairs and lock the door instead.'
 
     Karen stopped pulling on her top and looked back at him. ‘You think?’ she asked. God knows, she didn’t like the idea of having to drive back to the hotel either.
 
     Seeing her hesitate, Mark tried to drive the point home. ‘Well, what have you got to lose? If you manage to get hold of her on the phone, it could save a wasted journey and…’ He picked up the edge of the duvet and pointed to his rapidly deflating manhood. ‘It would save wasting this as well.’
 
      That did it! Since they’d got back together their sex life had been wonderful, and Karen was enjoying it as much as Mark. After she grabbed her phone again, she sat on the bed beside Mark and felt him massage her shoulders while she waited for Laura to answer.
 
 
**********
 
Samantha was literally climbing up the wall. Her need to get out of the room before Andrew came back to take her to hell, had her trying to melt through the walls and window, to no avail. She was trapped in this launch-pad to the hereafter, and now she thought she knew what that hereafter was, she was desperate to escape. In all the movies she’d watched before she died, ghosts could wander around freely and pass through inanimate objects, but she couldn’t work out how to do it. She thought, when she merged into Catarina’s body earlier, she had discovered some hitherto unknown powers, but it would seem that was where her power stopped. Like a rabbit caught in the headlamps of a car, she watched in horror as the halo of light appeared under the bed again and the ghostly voice started to wail just as loudly as before.
 
     ‘Please…’ she begged as she waited to be sucked through the floor like she’d seen happen to bad people in the movie, ‘Ghost.’ ‘I promise to repent my sins… I never meant to hurt anyone…’
 
     When Laura reached the door of Igor’s room, she panicked when she heard the faint sound of the ghostly ringtone of her mobile. By the time she opened the door and grabbed it from under the bed, it had stopped ringing. It wasn’t a problem though because it was a call from Karen, and she could return it as soon as she got back to her flat. Her main priority now was to get out of Igor's room before he came home.
 
     As she climbed the flight of stairs to the third floor, Laura felt relieved that she’d averted a disaster, but she also felt ‘different’ in a way she couldn’t quite understand.



 

Author Notes For those who haven't read the previous chapters, the 'ghostly' voice is actually the ringtone on Laura's mobile phone, which she hid under the bed because she wanted to frighten Mazeija, the woman she mistakenly thought was Igor's girlfriend.

My thanks to Cleo85 for the use of this wonderful image.

Please note Igor's speech is sometimes spelt incorrectly deliberately.

Laura; The owner of the Bedford hotel

Igor; The Sous chef at the Bedford hotel

Karen; The head chef at the Bedford, and Laura's friend

Mazeija; Igor's half cousin who caused him to leave his uncle's house after he arrived in the UK because of her unending sexual advances.

Catarina; The Polish girl Igor has admired many times at his local gym, but only met for the first time the week before.

Samantha; The Bedford's resident ghost who had been without company for years because her room was turned into a storeroom after she frightened all guests who slept in it. She is determined not to frighten Igor though because she loves having him there.

Andrew; The lover who turned up too late to stop Samantha from committing suicide several years before.


Chapter 27
Trapped

By alexisleech

On the way to her flat at the end of the evening, Laura bumps into an agitated Igor on the landing. Unbeknown to either of them, Samantha, the resident ghost, had jumped into Catarina’s body so she could experience the effect of Igor’s kiss, but she jumped back out again when Catarina felt faint. Satisfied that Catarina is fine, Laura leaves them in peace and goes to her flat. After she leaves, Igor and Catarina make love, after which Igor walks Catarina home. Unbeknown to Laura, Karen rings her secreted mobile with the newly acquired ‘spooky’ ringtone, which convinces Samantha her lover had died and has come to take her to hell. When the phone rings for a second time, just before Laura walks into the room to retrieve her mobile during Igor’s absence, Samantha doesn’t hesitate to jump into her body so she can escape her suspected fate.


 
Karen threw down the phone on the bed as she let out a snort of frustration. It was now midnight and Laura still wasn’t answering her mobile. ‘I’ll try the hotel number one last time,’ she told Mark, who by this time was in a great state of excitement having massaged her bare back in anticipation of making love.
 
     The phone rang five times, and Karen let out a sigh of relief when Laura answered. ‘Thank goodness!’ she told her as she pushed Mark’s wandering hand away from where it had crept around to her front and deposited itself on her left breast. ‘I’ve tried to get hold of you a few times since I left. I didn’t wake you up, did I?
 
     Laura flopped down in the armchair in her sitting room, the phone clutched to her ear. ‘Sorry, I was helping Igor out earlier, and I had to nip downstairs for something five minutes ago. I just missed your call. What’s up?’
 
     When Karen explained that the back door might be unlocked, Laura assured her she’d go downstairs to sort it out. The chance of her bumping into any guests at this time of night was negligible, so she said goodbye and tightened the belt on her fleecy robe before setting off for the kitchen.
 
     ‘So, where was I?’ Mark asked as his hand slipped back to Karen’s front, his fingers like a spider’s legs racing across her skin.
 
     She reached over and put her phone back on the bedside table before pulling back the duvet and sliding into his arms…
 
 

**********
 
 
Samantha liked the look of Laura’s flat. Unlike Igor’s room, the doors were left open with the exception of the entrance, which meant, as soon as she slipped out of Laura’s body two seconds after they got there, she was able to freely wander around the three bedroom apartment without any restriction. In contrast to the dated and utilitarian space she’d been forced to haunt for the last six years, this felt like a home. Framed pictures were in abundance in every room, especially the lounge, and Samantha floated around and examined them all while Laura was downstairs locking the back door.

     He looks like a nice man, she thought to herself as she examined the picture of Laura and Colin having a cuddle beside what looked to be a swimming pool somewhere abroad. The way they looked at each other left Samantha in no doubt that they were very much in love. So where was he now? Her hasty foray around the flat hadn’t revealed any other occupants, and there were no ‘man’ things in the bathroom, which suggested Laura lived there on her own. If he had died, then Samantha could only assume Laura knew how it felt to be separated from the person you love, albeit from another perspective. That thought warmed her to Laura immediately…
 
 
**********
 
 
Laura was relieved to see Karen’s fears had been unfounded when she found the kitchen door locked and bolted. The only thing wrong was the fact she’d forgotten to turn off the lights. With a relieved sigh, she reached for the switch when she noticed the door to the walk-in chiller was ajar, so she immediately closed it. Thank God she’d noticed. If it had been left open all night, all the food inside it would be ruined because the temperature would rise above two degrees. Satisfied that everything was as it should be, Laura snapped off the light and headed for her flat. It had been a long and eventful night, and she couldn’t wait to get to her bed.
 
 
**********
 
 
Igor was walking on cloud nine by the time he got back to the Bedford. The two hours he had spent with Catarina had been the best two hours of his life and left him in no doubt that they had bonded in a way that transcended the physical delights of their meeting. They were in love. The tender way Catarina kissed him goodnight outside her parents' house confirmed it.
 
     ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, my darling,’ she said in Polish after their lips eventually parted.
 
     With one last look over her shoulder and a blown kiss from her hand, Catarina had skipped up the stairs to her front door. Before she shut it behind her, she gave Igor a radiant smile, which filled him with such a wonderful feeling of well-being, he thought his heart would explode in his chest.
 
     It was only when he got back to the Bedford he remembered he hadn’t locked the kitchen door before he shot up to his room to meet with Catarina, and although he assumed Karen would have done it for him, he thought he better check it out as soon as he got back. Sure enough, the door was unlocked, so he turned the key and slid the bolt into place. After that, he checked nothing was missing from the walk-in chiller. Satisfied that everything seemed to be in order, he turned around to leave just as the door slammed shut in his face.
 
     Once closed, it couldn’t be opened from the inside….


 

Author Notes Contrary to popular belief, there are still thousands of these antiquated chillers in existence in the UK that have a latch handle on the outside, but no means to open them from the inside. Although all new models have a safety device to stop this happening, most hoteliers make do with these death traps until they break down and have to be replaced.


My thanks to Cleo85 for the use of this wonderful image.

Please note Igor's speech is sometimes spelt incorrectly deliberately.

Laura; The owner of the Bedford hotel

Igor; The Sous chef at the Bedford hotel

Karen; The head chef at the Bedford, and Laura's friend

Mazeija; Igor's half cousin who caused him to leave his uncle's house after he arrived in the UK because of her unending sexual advances.

Catarina; The Polish girl Igor has admired many times at his local gym, but only met for the first time the week before.

Samantha; The Bedford's resident ghost who had been without company for years because her room was turned into a storeroom after she frightened all guests who slept in it. She is determined not to frighten Igor though because she loves having him there.

Andrew; The lover who turned up too late to stop Samantha from committing suicide several years before.


Chapter 28
Trapped Part Two

By alexisleech






It was only when he got back to the Bedford that Igor remembered he hadn’t locked the kitchen door before he shot up to his room to meet with Catarina, and although he assumed Karen would have done it for him, he thought he better check it out as soon as he got back. Sure enough, the door was unlocked, so he turned the key and slid the bolt into place. After that, he checked nothing was missing from the walk-in chiller. Satisfied that everything seemed to be in place, he turned around to leave just as the door slammed shut in his face.








 
 

Igor had no idea how long it would take for his body temperature to drop to the point when hypothermia set in, or indeed how long it would take for the oxygen to run out, but he knew one thing for sure. He wouldn’t last until seven in the morning when his absence would be noticed by either Laura when she came down to reception, or the first guest who arrived looking for their breakfast at seven-thirty when the dining room opened.
 
     He and Karen had often joked about the antiquated walk-in chiller and the fact it couldn’t be opened from the inside. Karen had even suggested she’d lock him in it to ‘cool’ him down from time to time when something happened in the kitchen that had him running around like a demented warthog as he let rip with a stream of Polish profanities. Never for a moment had he thought the joke could actually come to fruition. Now he was trapped in an eight by ten tomb, with no light or means to escape, and the reality of it was deadly serious.
 
     ‘IS THERE ANYONE OUT THERE?’ he shouted at the top of his voice two stunned seconds after the door shut.
 
     Obviously not. Even if they were, the insulation required to keep the chiller at the correct temperature meant his coffin was soundproofed as well. The only connection to the outside world was the fan shaft situated on the back wall, and that vented out to the carpark at the back of the building. Even if he could open it up, and that was a big if, there would be nobody out there who could hear him. That said, did he have any other option but to try? Although he’d only been in there for ten minutes, he was already beginning to feel the cold seeping through his body because he was only wearing the tee-shirt and jeans he’d thrown on to walk Catarina home. With no sleeves to protect him, the hairs on his arms had already arched over the goose bumps on his skin in an attempt to trap his body heat. As his fingers began to numb, Igor tentatively moved to the back of the chiller and felt around for the grill in front of the fan.

 

**********
 
    
As she watched Laura sleeping, Samantha sat in the chair in the corner of her bedroom and thought through the events of the evening. After six years of mediocrity, with the biggest excitement being the odd light show when she got the chance to spook someone who entered what was now Igor’s room, she had experienced two wonderful kisses, watched Igor and Catarina make love, and nearly been dragged down to hell by her lover. What if he, and she still wasn’t sure if it was Andrew because the voice had only moaned, came for her here in Laura’s flat? She was sure her location in the hotel was irrelevant if she was doomed to go to hell anyway. The only thing that gave her hope was the fact the voice had stopped moaning and the eerie light had disappeared as soon as Laura entered Igor’s room. Was she her only protection from whoever it was that wanted to take her to hell? Samantha hoped not. What if they came for her when Laura wasn’t there, and she had no means of escape? With that thought in mind, she got up from the chair and floated through the opened door to the hallway.

 
**********
 

It had taken fifteen minutes, but Igor had at last managed to remove the grill that covered the vent shaft for the fan. By using the tag on his key ring, he’d located each of the twelve screws that held it in place and painstakingly removed them. He searched his memory and tried to envisage what the fan actually looked like. He’d only seen it working when the kitchen was busy, and the door had been opened and closed several times. It was set to kick in when the condensation levels rose above a certain point, which obviously wasn’t going to happen now. Remembering that there was a screw bolt situated in the centre of the fan itself, Igor felt a surge of hope when his fingers located it. If he could remove the first fan blade, it might mean he could remove the next, and enable him to be heard in the carpark. It was a long shot because there would be nobody there at this time of night, but it was the only way he could see of making contact with the outside world before his body started to close down. With fingers that were beginning to feel like they were no longer connected to his body, Igor positioned the keyring tab in the centre of the bolt, and with a silent prayer, tried to turn it.

 
**********
 

As she floated along the hallway, Samantha felt a sense of freedom for the first time since she died. She could actually feel the breeze wafting through the window as it lifted her long, blonde hair from her shoulders and it fanned out behind her. As she luxuriated in the fact she could stand at the window and feel the warm summer breeze, Samantha wondered if this could this be another means of escape should the hellish transporter return. At least she couldn’t fall to her death, she mused with a silent chuckle. What was the worst that could happen? Determined to find an alternative escape route should the necessity arise, Samantha willed her translucent body to float through the window…



 
 

Author Notes Contrary to popular belief, there are still many of these antiquated chillers in existence in the UK that have a latch handle on the outside, but no means to open them from the inside. Although all new models have a safety device to stop this happening, most hoteliers make do until they break down and have to be replaced.

My thanks to Cleo85 for the use of this wonderful image.

Please note Igor's speech is sometimes spelt incorrectly deliberately.

Laura; The owner of the Bedford hotel

Igor; The Sous chef at the Bedford hotel

Karen; The head chef at the Bedford, and Laura's friend

Mazeija; Igor's half cousin who caused him to leave his uncle's house after he arrived in the UK because of her unending sexual advances.

Catarina; The Polish girl Igor has admired many times at his local gym, but only met for the first time the week before.

Samantha; The Bedford's resident ghost who had been without company for years because her room was turned into a storeroom after she frightened all guests who slept in it. She is determined not to frighten Igor though because she loves having him there.

Andrew; The lover who turned up too late to stop Samantha from committing suicide several years before.


Chapter 29
Trapped Part Three

By alexisleech

From the previous chapter;
 
As she floated along the hallway, Samantha felt a sense of freedom for the first time since she died. She could actually feel the wind wafting through the window as it lifted her long, blonde hair from her shoulders and it fanned out behind her like a ghostly veil. As she luxuriated in the fact she could stand at the window and feel the warm summer breeze, Samantha wondered if this could be another means of escape should the hellish transporter return. At least she couldn’t fall to her death, she mused with a silent chuckle. What was the worst that could happen? Determined to find an alternative escape route, should the necessity arise, Samantha willed her translucent body to float through the window.




 
Her body weightless, Samantha took flight across the carpark like a bird on the wing, dipping and diving as she made her way towards the ground. When she eventually landed beside the recycling bin at the rear of the building, she looked down at her feet and marvelled at the fact the impact had caused no sensation. Was this payback for being a ghost for so long? She certainly hadn’t had this much fun since she’d died. She did a couple of floating twirls before looking up at the back of the building that had imprisoned her for nearly six years.

     Catch me if you can, she thought defiantly when she remembered the ghostly voice she’d heard earlier in Igor’s room. As far as she was concerned she had never done anything bad enough to justify being dragged off to hell, and as much as she loved Andrew, the man who had been the centre of her universe, the thought of him linking her to such a horrendous fate created a need inside her to fight back. All she’d done was love someone, so she didn’t feel guilty about believing Andrew when he told her his marriage was over. If he lied, then why should she be eternally damned because of it?

     When she heard the muffled cry for help, Samantha nearly jumped out of the skin she no longer owned.

     ‘Igor?’ she gasped as she floated towards the grill in the wall.

     Two hours before, she had watched him walk out of his room when he insisted on walking Catarina home. Why was he now calling for help? There was no doubt it was him, of that she was sure—but where was he? His room was on the second floor, and a quick glance up at his window confirmed the lights were off, so why was he calling out from somewhere near the car park?

     The fact she hadn’t worked out how to pass through solid objects frustrated Samantha for the second time that day. As did the fact that the only way she could communicate with the mortal race was by interfering with the electricity supply of inanimate objects.

     ‘I LOCKED IN CHILLER…’ she heard Igor call out, which made her stand back from the wall and stare at the metal grill where his voice had come from. Was this some kind of game he was playing? If it was, Samantha wasn’t impressed. She half expected to see him staring back at her when she pressed her face up to the bars so she could look beyond them, but she couldn’t make out anything except the metal blades of a fan.

     Resigned to the fact there was nothing she could do, Samantha floated back up to the hallway window of Laura’s flat.


 

**********
 

Igor had given up. When he’d managed to remove the first blade of the fan, he had renewed hope that he might be able to make contact with the outside world and not be reduced to the icy state that would lead to his death. An hour on, he realised he was doomed. Beyond the second fan blade, there was a third, and there was no way he could reach it. Now with no feeling in his hands or feet, he felt his eyes closing, the tears he had shed earlier crystallised on his cheek. Was he going to die? He could only assume so. His voice was hoarse with calling out, and he slid to the floor as he felt his legs buckle beneath him.

 
**********



Samantha still didn't know what to do. Igor’s calls for help had stopped permeating the air outside the grill at least half an hour ago, and her last foray to the carpark had greeted her with nothing but silence. If being locked in the chiller meant Igor might die, there was nothing she could do about it, but if he did, perhaps they could become friends. God knows, she’s been on her own long enough. Having Igor as a companion might be the answer to her prayers. As she pondered that thought, she felt weighed down with guilt. She liked Igor, and from everything she’d seen and heard in the week since he moved into her space, she saw nothing but goodness in the man. Even the bloody caged mouse he’d secreted in the wardrobe before Catarina arrived was a testament to his loving and thoughtful nature. Chances were, if he died, he would go straight to heaven. No, she couldn’t have it on her conscience not to try and help him, hopeless though it might seem. With a resigned sigh, she floated back along the hallway towards Laura’s bedroom…

 
**********
 

Laura let out a groan when she was woken up by the alarm clock. It was beeping with a ferocity she’d never heard before, and it was only three-thirty in the morning. What was going on? At first Laura thought she must have set the alarm to the wrong time, but after she turned on the bedside lamp and checked it out, she saw it was correctly set at six-thirty, the time she usually got up. With a shake of her head, Laura turned off the light and snuggled back down under her duvet in the hope she could get back to sleep.

     No chance. Samantha was on a mission to get Laura to go downstairs and save Igor, and come hell or high water, she would do it somehow. When an orchestra consisting of every electrical appliance in the flat that could make a noise started playing, Laura sat bolt upwards in her bed. The TV was blaring in the living room, as was the radio in the kitchen, and her hairdryer was whirring away on the dressing table.

     ‘What the….’ Laura gasped as she reached to turn on the bedside lamp again. The alarm going off at the wrong time was one thing, but the prickling sensation now passing down her spine told her there was something much more sinister going on. When she’d returned to the flat after Catarina’s fainting spell, she’d Googled ‘poltergeist activity’ again on her laptop, and she was in no doubt that what was happening now had something to do with a ghost. She jumped out of bed, shot across to the dressing table, and switched off the hairdryer at the wall, before heading for the kitchen to turn off the radio. Again she switched it off at the wall, as she did with the TV in the lounge. Then, momentarily calmed by the advice she had gleaned on the internet, she took on a terrified, albeit confrontational stance after she returned to the kitchen.
 
     ‘What do you want?’ she asked as firmly as her shaking vocal cords would allow.
 
     Samantha wasn’t sure what to do in response. Damn, this was frustrating. She flicked the overhead light off and on a couple of times in an effort to communicate. Laura’s natural instinct was to get the hell out of there, but everything she’d read told her that, for the most part, ghosts weren’t malevolent, they were purely stuck on earth until they could find a way to move on.
 
     ‘You’re a ghost, aren’t you?’ she asked, her eyes frantically searching around the kitchen for evidence.
 
     The light flashed once, which Laura assumed meant yes. She could feel her body shaking as the reality of communicating with a ghost sank in. What should she do now? ‘Are you here because you’re trapped?’ she whispered.
 
     If Laura could have heard her, she might have flinched at Samantha’s expletive drenched reply. How could she get it through to her that it was Igor who needed help, not her?  She flashed the light off and on twice which Laura took to mean no. Going into charade mode, she tried to think of questions that required simple answers.
 
     ‘Are you here because you need help?’
 
     Too bloody right! Samantha thought as she flashed the light on and off.
 
      ‘Is there… Is there something you want me to do?’ Laura whimpered.
 
     Again the light flashed once.
 
     It was Laura’s turn to feel frustrated. Having it confirmed that this ghost needed help was one thing, but how could she find out what it wanted her to do?  ‘Would you like me to get a priest?’ she suggested in the hope she could hand this responsibility over to someone more qualified to cope with it.
 
     Not only was the answer negative, but Samantha’s exasperated overspill of energy turned on the kettle.
 
     ‘You want me to make a hot drink?’ Laura gasped in disbelief. Was this ghost a frustrated tea drinker who got off on watching someone partake in something they used to enjoy? She took the lid off the jar containing the tea bags and held one up in the air instead of asking the question. When there was no response, Laura held up the jar of instant coffee instead. This frustrated Samantha so much, she set off the microwave and toaster simultaneously, and Laura got such a fright she dropped the jar and it smashed at her feet. That was the last straw. If her flat was haunted, then she needed help to sort it out. She would go downstairs to call a priest in the hope he would know what to do, and hopefully the ghost couldn’t follow her and overhear the conversation.
 
     ‘I’m just going to nip down to the kitchen to get another jar of coffee…’ she told her invisible intruder in the hope it would give her a valid excuse to escape. ‘I…I won’t take long,’ she added apologetically.
 
     Samantha made a fist and punched it in the air. A result at last! A second later, she wasn’t so sure. She assumed jars of coffee weren’t stored in a chiller, so Laura might still not be alerted to the fact Igor was trapped inside it. In an effort to stall while she tried to work out what to do next, she turned off the light and plunged the room into darkness.
 
     An icy chill ran down Laura’s spine again as she stood shaking in the middle of the kitchen. With no window to offer any light from the moon or the street lamps, she couldn’t see a thing. What if this ghost wasn’t friendly, and it meant to do her some harm? What if it posessed her and made her do things she didn't want to do? She was so scared, she literally wet herself. The warm trickle travelled down her legs and spilt over her bare feet forming a small puddle around her. Without any light, it was impossible for her to move safely because of the shards of glass from the smashed jar of coffee. 'Please...' she begged. 'Please, turn the light on...'
 
     A minute later, Samantha complied, and Laura couldn’t believe what she saw when she looked down at her feet. There on the white tiled floor in front of her were the words Igor is trapped in the chiller, written in an ink made from instant coffee and hot liquid fear…





 

 
 

Author Notes My thanks to Cleo85 for the use of this wonderful image.

Please note Igor's speech is sometimes spelt incorrectly deliberately.

Laura; The owner of the Bedford hotel

Igor; The Sous chef at the Bedford hotel

Karen; The head chef at the Bedford, and Laura's friend

Mazeija; Igor's half cousin who caused him to leave his uncle's house after he arrived in the UK because of her unending sexual advances.

Catarina; The Polish girl Igor has admired many times at his local gym, but only met for the first time the week before.

Samantha; The Bedford's resident ghost who had been without company for years because her room was turned into a storeroom after she frightened all the guests with her ghostly antics. She is now convinced that the sound of Laura's ghostly ringtone on her mobile phone was actually her lover, who she thinks has died and been sent to take her to hell.

Andrew; The lover who turned up too late to stop Samantha from committing suicide several years before.


Chapter 30
The Next Morning

By alexisleech

From the previous chapter;
 
  An icy chill ran down Laura’s spine as she stood shaking in the middle of the kitchen. With no window to offer any light from the moon or the street lamps, she couldn’t see a thing. What if this ghost wasn’t friendly, and it meant to do her some harm? What if it possessed her and made her do things she didn't want to do? She was so scared, she literally wet herself. The warm trickle travelled down her legs and spilt over her bare feet forming a small puddle around her. Without any light, it was impossible for her to move safely because of the shards of glass from the smashed jar of coffee. 'Please...' she begged. 'Please, turn the light on...'
 
     A minute later, Samantha complied, and Laura couldn’t believe what she saw when she looked down at her feet. There on the white tiled floor in front of her were the words 
Igor is trapped in the chiller, written in an ink made from instant coffee and hot liquid fear…
 
 

**********

 
When Jenny walked through the Bedford front doors, she found Laura looking wretched as she held her head in her hands at the reception desk. It didn’t take a genius to work out some kind of catastrophe had taken place. The normally fresh-faced, smiling Laura, who was usually annoyingly cheerful at that time in the morning, looked like she’d been to hell and back. With no make-up, and her hair plastered to her head as though she’d just come out of the shower, Laura, dressed in leggings and a sweater, certainly didn’t look like the owner and receptionist of her bijoux hotel.
 
     ‘Bloody hell!’ Jenny gasped when Laura looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. ‘What’s happened?’
 
     ‘I nearly killed Igor…’ was her monotone answer.
 
     At least it was only ‘nearly,’ Jenny thought with a snigger. She’d heard Karen jokingly threaten to murder him on several occasions.
 
     ‘What d’you mean? Did you have an argument?’
 
     The sarcastic snort that escaped Laura’s lips confirmed the irony of the question. ‘I wish… No, it was much worse than that. I didn’t realise he was in the chiller when I came down to check the back door last night, and he ended up locked in there for hours because I shut the door when I thought someone had left it open by mistake.’
 
     Jenny’s hands shot to her mouth. ‘Is he okay?’
 
     An intake of breath escaped Laura’s lips before she answered. ‘Amazingly, yes, although he suffered mild hypothermia. Another four hours and he would probably have been a goner—and I would have been responsible. God, Jenny, apart from when Colin died, this has been one of the worst experiences of my life.’
 
     Ever practical, Jenny glanced towards the dining room doors. The guests would start coming down soon, and if there was no chef, they would go hungry. ‘Do you want me to make breakfast?’
 
     Laura shook her head. ‘It’s okay. I called Fiona and asked her to do it. We only have twelve guests, so she’ll be able to cope on her own. I’d really appreciate it if you could take over here, though. I don’t think I’m up to dealing with checking anyone out, and I need to get changed.’
 
     She needed to do a lot more than get changed, Jenny thought. She looked a complete wreck. ‘No problem,’ she told her. ‘Where’s Igor now?’
 
     Laura stood up and tried to pull herself together. ‘He’s still at the hospital. They said they would have to keep him in for observation but, all being well, he should be discharged later this afternoon. God, Jenny, when I think what could have happened...’
 
     Without hesitation, Jenny shot over to Laura’s side of the reception desk and put her arm around her shoulders just as the tears started to fall.
 
     ‘If the ghost hadn’t woken me up, Igor would probably be dead,’ Laura sobbed.
 
     If her one-liner was meant to render Jenny speechless, it did, but only for a couple of seconds. ‘Ghost?’ she echoed. ‘You don’t mean the ghost they reckon haunted Igor’s room, do you? I thought you said he hadn’t mentioned it.’
 
     Again Laura shook her head. ‘He didn’t, but his girlfriend had a fainting fit last night and after Igor asked me to check her out, she started to say something that suggested someone or something had been in the room with them when it happened. I presume it was that ‘something’ that woke me up at three-thirty this morning and alerted me to the fact Igor was trapped in the chiller. If it hadn’t done that, Igor would probably still be in there now, and I would be sitting here none the wiser waiting for the guests to come down for breakfast.’
 
     As the enormity of what Laura had just said sank in, Jenny felt a shiver run down her spine. The thought that there really was a ghost in the hotel was a lot to take on board. ‘How did it tell you? I mean, did it talk to you?’
 
     Calmed by the fact that she’d been able to tell someone about her ordeal at last, Laura dried her eyes with her tissue. ‘No, I didn’t see or hear it. I only knew it was there because it was flashing the lights on and off when I asked it questions. I’d Googled the subject of poltergeists several times after you told me the story about the storeroom being haunted. Thank God I did. Knowing that it was probably just a trapped soul managed to keep me calm to start with. It was only when it turned off the light in the kitchen and I couldn’t see anything, that I freaked out. I actually wet myself at that point.’
 
     Jenny let out a spontaneous guffaw. ‘I’m not bloody surprised! I would probably have done a lot more than wet myself… It would have been a brown underwear job. ...But how did it tell you about Igor if it didn’t speak to you?’
 
     Laura could still see the image of the words written on her kitchen floor. It was an image that would probably ‘haunt’ her for the rest of her life. When she told Jenny, her hands shot to her mouth again.
 
     'Do you think it’s still in your flat? Have you been back there since this happened?’
 
     ‘Only to grab some clothes after the ambulance took Igor to the hospital. I had a shower in room seven because I knew it was vacant. I’m dreading going up there in case the ghost is still there.’
 
     Jenny knew she should accompany her, but she wasn’t sure if she could cope either. Unlike Laura, she’d never researched into the possibility of there being a ghost in your home, so her only reference to the subject was programmes like ‘Most Haunted’ on TV. If anything had proved the existence of ghosts there, most people had left the scene screaming with the exception of the gay medium who reckoned he could communicate with them. ‘Is there anyone you can call to check it out?’ she asked in the hope that there was someone similar to him who could solve the problem.
 
     ‘I don’t think it would like it if I did,’ Laura told her with a shake of her head. ‘I asked if it wanted me to get a priest, and it not only flashed the light on and off twice to say no, it turned on the microwave and toaster as though it was outraged at the suggestion. It’s obviously a caring ghost, or it wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to save Igor, so I’m not as scared as I was— it’s just that I don’t know what to do for the best. I don’t even know if it’s male or female.’
 
     Jenny couldn’t see why the ghost's gender was relevant and was just about to say so when a guest appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Laura scuttled into the office so he couldn’t see her, and he checked his watch before settling down in one of the chairs in the residents’ lounge to await the opening of the dining room doors. If Laura didn’t want to be seen by anyone, she would either have to stay in the office until all the guests had left, or go somewhere else out of sight before the rest of them came down for breakfast.
 
     ‘Why don’t you go and have a kip in room seven?’ Jenny suggested when she popped her head around the office door. ‘I’ll wake you up when everyone’s checked out, and we can work out what to do for the best then. I’ll try to find out what I can about what happened in Igor’s room all those years ago in the meantime. It might give us a clue as to why there’s a ghost here in the first place.’
 
     The look of relief on Laura’s face inspired Jenny to crack a joke. ‘If I see the ghost I’ll tell it to stay down here and keep me company instead. You need some sleep!’
 
     I might just do that, Samantha thought as she watched Laura making for the stairs…
    
     
    
    
 
 
 
 

Author Notes Laura; The owner of the Bedford hotel

Igor; The Sous chef at the Bedford hotel

Jenny; Laura's friend who is a partner in the hotel and runs housekeeping

Catarina; The Polish girl Igor has admired many times at his local gym, but only met for the first time the week before.

Samantha; The Bedford's resident ghost who had been without company for years because her room was turned into a storeroom after she frightened all the guests who slept in it. Having heard the 'spooky' ringtone coming from Laura's mobile phone secreted under Igor's bed, she is now convinced it is an evil spirit trying to take her to hell.


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