The Sapphire Child (The Raj Hotel #2) - Janet MacLeod Trotter Page 0,2
and will spend a couple of nights with her.’
‘Gulmarg?’
‘Remember, that’s where Pa’s bosses, the Lomaxes, live now? They run The Raj-in-the-Hills Hotel – open it every hot season and I go up there to help.’
‘Ah, yes, Kashmir.’ Winifred nodded. ‘How are Captain Tom and dear Esmie?’
Stella reached for a hairbrush and began to tidy and fluff up the woman’s thin white hair. Only the most long-standing residents still called the hotel owner ‘Captain’. It was a throwback to when the dashing Tom Lomax had been an officer in the Peshawar Rifles before the Kaiser’s war. But Tom didn’t like to be referred to as such and never talked about his time in the army or that part of his life before he married his third wife, Esmie. To do so could precipitate one of his dark moods – ‘black monsoons’, as Esmie called them.
Stella adored them both. Tom had saved The Raj Hotel from bankruptcy and kept on the Dubois family to manage it, for which her parents would be forever grateful.
Stella also had a soft spot for their thirteen-year-old son, Andrew. Despite his age he was generous and kind and made her laugh. She hadn’t seen him since Christmas, even though he was at school in the hill station of Murree, which was only two hours away.
‘I’m longing to see the Lomaxes,’ said Stella. ‘They haven’t been down here for months. I love Kashmir, but I wouldn’t want to spend the winter there – it’s far too cold and there’s nothing to do once the holidaymakers leave – and I’d miss my family and the hotel and all my friends here.’
Winifred gave her an expectant look. ‘Am I going with you to Gulmarg?’
‘Sorry, Mrs S, not this time. I’ll be working. My cousin Ada is going to come in and help you like she did last year. You like her.’
The old woman looked unsure. ‘Ah, Ada. That’s kind of her. But I’ll miss you, Stella. No one can take your place.’
Stella kissed her soft cheek. ‘I should hope not,’ she said, smiling. ‘Because I’ll be back before you know it.’
Stella kept busy all day. After helping Mrs Shankley to the breakfast table, she took a turn at the reception desk while her father chatted to the guests. She supervised the replenishing of flowers in the hallway and the lounge and helped her mother draw up menus for the week ahead. In the afternoon she played cards with Mr Ansom and Mr Fritwell, two of the other residents who had lived in the hotel for as long as Stella could remember. Ansom was a stooped, craggy-faced retired engineer with sparse hair who walked with the aid of a stick; Fritwell was a portly former army quartermaster with a trim white moustache and a penchant for pink gin. They spent most of their days sitting in their favourite cane chairs in the foyer, where they could gossip and keep an eye on the comings and goings in the hotel. They dozed under copies of the Civil and Military Gazette or sat in the fug of Ansom’s cigarettes and played cards.
‘Are you courting yet, Stella?’ asked Fritwell.
‘No.’ Stella gave a smile of amusement as she shuffled the cards.
‘Charlie Dubois would send them packing, eh, Stella?’ Ansom gave a throaty laugh.
‘Your brother must have suitable friends,’ persisted Fritwell.
‘I’m not interested in Jimmy’s friends,’ said Stella. ‘All they talk about is cricket or cars. The man I marry will be interested in the things I like. I believe what the baroness told me: marry for love or not at all.’
‘Bravo, Stella!’ Ansom grinned. ‘That’s you told, Fritters. Now deal the cards and stop trying to put Stella off her game.’
That evening, Ada came to the Dubois’ bungalow to discuss the duties she would take over from Stella. Her cousin was plumply pretty with wavy dark hair and an infectious laugh. They sat on the veranda steps trying to catch any lick of evening breeze.
‘Watch out for Fritters,’ Stella warned. ‘He’ll quiz you about your love life and try to marry you off before the summer’s out.’
‘Well, if he can introduce me to some charming army officers,’ Ada said with a grin, ‘then I’ll not complain.’
Stella nudged her. ‘They’ll be over seventy and probably incontinent.’
Ada laughed. ‘It’s all right for you – you’re going to the hills where there’ll be heaps of young officers on leave looking for girls to flirt with.’
‘I’m going there to work, not flirt,’ Stella reminded her.