Victoria Cooke - The Holiday Cruise - The feel-good heart-warming romance you need to read this year

‘Oh hi, Hannah. Thank you for the reminder but I’ve already made a booking elsewhere. I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure if or when you’d be reopening, and my skin was looking so dull,’ she replied. I tried a last-ditch attempt to reel her back.

‘That’s not a problem. I understand. Just in case you change your mind, I wanted to let you know that microdermabrasion is half price.’ I blurted out the last part. It wasn’t my planned offer, nor was it a feasible price in the long run, but it was a bloody good deal for a customer at thirty quid. If she declined an offer like that, I had no hope.

‘Thanks for letting me know, but I’ve booked a course of four at Glam Shack – it was only a hundred pounds. Your offer is a great one too, though. I’ll definitely consider The Hollywood Hut again in the future.’ It was official – I had no hope. I closed the call politely before banging the phone against my forehead once again. It had confirmed what Amy had said: she’d be at Glam Shack a good six months before she’d even consider returning. I couldn’t afford to lose my customers for half a year. Jess was right: they’d all gone.

I was alone.

***

By the end of the week I’d managed to recoup three of my old clients, and the small amount of optimism that generated gave me the courage to let my older sister, Jen, come over. I had an underlying niggle of guilt because after Daniel left, I’d shut her out and I knew she’d be desperate to get in. Jen had been like a parent to me, ever since our real parents were killed in a car accident back when I was eighteen. I still lived at home at the time and Jen, who was only twenty-four herself, did everything she could to make sure I was okay.

Even after I got married, she didn’t let go. I was like the child she’d never had. Sometimes she could be suffocating, and the emotion I was feeling had already left me little room to breathe.

She looked nervous when I opened the door, and I forced a small smile of reassurance.

‘Hi,’ I said. Seeing her familiar face made me want to burst into tears.

She must have noticed my tears start to well. ‘Oh, Hannah. Come here.’ She gathered me into a hug and I sobbed with relief, comforted by the smell of her familiar Jo Malone perfume.

‘Why didn’t you let me help you? I’ve been sick with worry,’ she said.

‘I just couldn’t,’ I whispered through sobs. ‘I needed time.’

‘We can fix this,’ she whispered back. ‘Whatever you want to do.’

I calmed myself down. It was just so overwhelming, seeing her there. ‘Right now, I just want a drink.’ I wiped my tears on my sleeve.

Jen rubbed my arm and went into the kitchen. I followed her in and sat on a bar-stool at the island.

‘Look at you. You look tired. Are you sleeping properly?’ she asked whilst pouring us each a glass of wine.

‘Not well,’ I admitted.

‘And what are you eating?’ she said, putting the wine back in the fridge. ‘There’s nothing in here.’

‘I’m managing, Jen. Please, don’t fuss.’

She let out a deep sigh and something told me that dropping the subject would be a temporary arrangement. ‘So what’ve you done with yourself this week? I heard you’ve been out and about.’ She pushed my wine towards me.

Oh, the good old village gossip . ‘Well, trying to rescue my floundering business has taken up most of my time.’ Jen opened her mouth to speak so I continued quickly before she could tell me patronizingly that everything would be okay. ‘Amy and Jess left to work at Glam Shack, taking all my customers with them – not on purpose.’ I added the last part to prevent the tirade of abuse they’d otherwise receive in their absence.

‘Oh, Han, that’s the last thing you need. Fancy them ditching you in your hour of need. How long was the shop shut?’ She knew full well since she’d have passed it practically every day and I didn’t doubt for a second that was the motive behind her daily calls. I was glad I’d ignored her. In my fragile state there was a high chance she’d have reverted to ‘mother mode’ and I couldn’t have coped with that smothering feeling.

‘I’m not sure. Three, maybe four weeks. It wasn’t their fault. I didn’t pay them, and they needed money to live. They have responsibilities. All my regulars needed appointments that I wasn’t providing, and that bloody Cherry at Glam Shack used it to her advantage, offering them all deals for multiple treatments. Most of them have paid in advance for treatments that take them right up to the end of spring next year. I don’t know what to do. I’ve lost my share in the market, and the town isn’t big enough for two large salons.’ I took a long, much-needed drink of wine.

‘That’s terrible! What a scheming cow Cherry is.’ She shook her head for effect.

‘If something doesn’t drastically change, I’ll have to close.’ Saying the words out loud shocked me. I wasn’t sure what I’d do without the salon.

‘Don’t say that. We’ll think of something.’ She drummed her fingers on the table, a look of concentration on her face. Jen couldn’t help being a ‘fixer’. She was always trying to fix things, to fix me.

‘I know!’ she said suddenly. ‘Tom’s.’

‘What about Tom’s?’ I said, puzzled. Tom owned a fairly large B&B in the village, which often got quite busy with tourists who came to shop on the picturesque cobbled high street or take a stroll down by the river.

‘He’ll be starting to get busy with Christmas stay-over shoppers soon. You could offer treatments to his guests.’

I thought about it. It wasn’t a bad idea. ‘Well, I suppose it’s worth a try.’

We made it to ten-thirty before I called it a night. The warm fuzzy feeling from the alcohol was walking the fine line between tipsy and drunk, and I didn’t want to tip over to the other side. Besides, if Jen felt drunk too, she’d feel brave enough to start on about Daniel and I wasn’t ready to hear her say what an arse he is, was, or whatever. I already knew.

***

The next morning, I wrapped up in warm clothing and dragged myself down to the B&B at the bottom end of town, to see Tom. Tom was in his early fifties, a tall, skinny fellow with greying black hair. He was a little eccentric but harmless enough.

‘Hello?’ He wagged his finger at me and his eyebrow twitched as if it were connected. ‘Hannah, isn’t it?’

‘It is. Well remembered.’ I took a breath and tried to organize my words. ‘I just popped down because I’ve a business proposition for you, if you’re interested.’

He raised his left eyebrow quickly before narrowing his eyes at me. ‘A business proposition? I’m listening.’

‘I was wondering if it might be mutually beneficial to offer a spa service to your guests. You know, massages, nails, and things like that, at my salon: The Hollywood Hut. I thought it might be a nice option for them and something for you to advertise to attract them.’ I rambled uncomfortably whilst Tom stared at me, holding his chin between his thumb and forefinger. The pause was uncomfortable, and I had to force myself not to carry on talking.

‘It sounds like it could be interesting. Would there be any cost to me?’ I felt a flutter of hope in my chest. He definitely looked as though he was considering it.

‘Not at all. I’ve already got some leaflets printed – just generic ones I had anyway – and the guests will pay for their own treatments. If you just sign or stamp them, I’ll offer a ten per cent discount to anyone staying in the B&B.’

He pursed his lips in consideration. ‘Okay, we can trial it. Guests always get a bit fed up by day two here. People may well extend their stay for a spa thingy.’ He wagged his finger at the bag of leaflets. ‘We’ll trial it through to spring and assess it from there.’