Chapter Nine: Autumn, First Year

We knew that belt tightening was going to be necessary, it was just how it was going to be applied. By this stage as well as Moaner on £25,000, we had two housekeeping staff, two in the kitchen, a Polish man who could put his hand to most things, including night porter, and Pam and me. We worked it out that we were on £2.80 per hour, each, barely sufficient to pay the rent on our flat, so it was a good job that we were eating at the hotel so often. We took nothing else. Mark’s attitude by then was that as we were partners, we should take nothing, just like him. His investment equalled our hours in his eyes, so he became increasingly pointed in his comments about the wages we received. The bloke was so dim he couldn’t see our point, he never did.

The two in the kitchen were on a combined £25,000, the night porter was living in on minimum wage, the housekeeping were also on minimum. It was becoming increasingly obvious that we couldn’t afford Moaner. But I just couldn’t bring myself to be ruthless. She had given up her job to come and work for us, I considered it obligatory to remain loyal to her.

Her attitude became increasingly divisive, she wasn’t daft, she could see that the hotel had to ditch superfluous staff, and as she was the highest paid with the lowest manual return, it was obvious to all that she was the natural candidate for the chop. However, service had to be continued, we would address that problem when it became really necessary.

That autumn was a difficult period for all of us. Mark was becoming more demanding financially, I stopped sending the money over to California. The accountant was insistent that we didn’t send him any more money, because the turnover of the hotel couldn’t sustain such a huge hole. We were members of the Eastbourne Chamber of Commerce, an organisation I have a lot of admiration for. They work for the business community, not just the successful part but also the struggling, as they appreciate their responsibility for the whole.

Every Tuesday I would attend the weekly breakfast meetings, recounting amusing incidents with guests, trying to drum up extra business. One such incident concerned two elderly sisters staying in room eight. This was a twin bedded room.

The ladies were regular guests, staying for a week at a time three or four times a year. They had independent means, lived in the Midlands, always arriving and departing by private taxi. They were absolutely charming, less demanding than some guests, but expecting and receiving individual attention. I always checked that their rooms were spotless, if I wasn’t around then Moaner would. It wasn’t usually necessary, because the rooms were maintained to an excellent standard by this time.

The sequence of events went like this. The younger sister dropped an earring on the floor, close to the bed, so went on her hands and knees to look for it. Of course, she should have contacted reception, as we would have been pleased to crawl on our knees under the bed. But the sister did instead.

The bed was six inches off the floor, the Hoover would only get so far under, so the middle part under the bed was never accessed. Miss Jane was persistent however in looking for the missing earring, which was worth a not inconsiderable sum as it was made of gold and contained an emerald. She didn’t see the missing item of jewellery, but instead discovered something that had obviously been there for quite some time.

It was battery operated, long and thick, smooth one end where the operator had to turn the base, the rest was an uneven, knobbly surface. Twelve inches long, dust had gathered between the distorted section.

In the privacy of their room, the two sisters took it in turns to hold the item, discussing what could be its purpose. They genuinely had no idea, so together bought it to reception, gingerly holding it while they waited their turn in the queue with other guests.

Miss Jane to Moaner, who was behind the desk ‘Tell me dear what this is please.’

Moaner ‘where did you find it Miss Jane?’

Miss Jane ‘under the bed.’

Moaner ‘it is obviously lost property, Would you like me to look after it for you?’

Miss Edith ‘yes dear, we would, but WHAT is it? We just can’t think, and we have no idea. And WHY would it be under the bed?’

I had been in the lounge at the time, popped my head round the door, immediately realised what was occurring. Unfortunately Moaner saw me, and called out ‘Mr. Pope, would you kindly come here please and explain to the ladies what this is. They found it under their bed.’

Caught! I could only come forward and examine the item.

‘Apologies ladies, obviously it is something that has been left by a previous guest, and missed by our housekeeping staff. You can be assured that they will be spoken with.’

‘Yes Mr. Pope, but what IS it?’

Moaner had a big grin on her face, full of expectation.

‘May I be adult, and say it’s something that should only be used in private. I would feel awkward if you wanted me to say more.’

‘Ah, right.’ I could hear them both muttering as they walked away to walk up the stairs along the lines of they still didn’t understand.

***

Moaner was one of those people who had a really pretty face on a larger than usual frame. She was so pretty, but never had a man friend. Indeed, she engaged at this time without discussion a single lady called Alice. She was stick thin to Moaner’s stout. Alice was quite handy to have around, because she would put her hand to a lot of things that others would not.

She was in her early twenties, dressed plainly with a short hair style. Average height, I suspected that very few men would seek her company, but she seemed quite happy with Moaner. She was good cover for staff who wanted to take a day off, or maybe ill, and I quite liked her bubbly personality. We didn’t pay her very much, as she had a room at the top of the hotel that used to be used by domestic staff when families used to employ such people. We were never full at this time of year, apart from Christmas, so one day when she asked me if she might use the hotel for her address to receive post, I saw no objection. Every few days she would receive padded envelopes with DVDs inside, nothing out of order there.

I had a computer disc with lots of names and addresses of people in the UK, which included over 200 people with the surname of Sheldon. I either e-mailed or wrote to every one, gaining new business this way. I also contacted every single person in the hotel’s database going back quite a few years to see if they would like to come for a Christmas package break.

This was for four days, and would be full-on service. All meals were included, two night’s entertainment, a mystery coach trip on one afternoon, plus tickets for the Boxing Day pantomime at the Devonshire Park Theatre. We had an excellent take-up, full of bookings by the end of October. Successful marketing.

The Christmas break started on Christmas Eve, and I continued with the tradition of carrying guest cases to their rooms. And they continued with the tradition of not giving a gratuity to the boss.

By 4pm all twenty eight rooms were occupied, and I came down the stairs after the last guest had checked in. Pam was sitting behind the reception desk. I said

’70 - 30’

‘What’ was her incredulous reply. For once she wasn’t on the phone, or chatting to Moaner.

‘70 - 30. I hate 70% of our guests, and it’s only the first day.’

Of course, Mark was nowhere to be seen when there was work to be done, he was enjoying the break with Deanna in the Californian sunshine. That is why Pam and I were earning £2.80 per hour. Moaner was there, but only just, she soon disappeared leaving everything to be completed by us. Dinner was at 6:30pm, it was my role to take drinks orders as well as serve them pre-dinner. I had a special wine list for the festive break, some extra special lines as well as the usual, with some pretty decent offers. Champagne was of course expensive, especially the Moët, but it was not easy to anticipate the demand. Too much and wouldn’t sell until the following spring, too little and the embarrassment of running out during a prime selling period. We must have got it right, at £45 per bottle. I had been watching out for supermarket special offers during November, the optimum time to buy Christmas booze.

After dinner, which finished after a couple of hours, we had entertainment. This comprised a single keyboard player who was pretty good, and he could also sing well. He got the audience going very well, they actually stayed awake until 10:30pm, even buying the occasional drinks. I had taken this eventuality when costing the package.

We managed to get to bed by midnight, all the guests were tucked up, no-one bothered to see in the Christmas day itself. They probably wanted to pace themselves for the physical and demanding activities on offer the next day.

Pam and I arrived at 7:30am on Christmas Day. The night porter said

‘The lift isn’t working.’

This was the only time in the whole period of our hotel occupation when the thing failed to operate. On the phone to Thyssen Krupp, amazed that they were even there, albeit the phone was diverted to the emergency engineer. He was covering a hell of an area, but promised to be with us as soon as possible, appreciating the predicament we were in. We had a disabled guest on the first floor, in a wheelchair, who couldn’t get downstairs for breakfast. Our staff worked wonders, taking his breakfast order, then delivering room service.

Within two hours of our phone call to Thyssen Krupp, the engineer had not only been, but he had fixed the lift. We were back in operation. Splendid service, and from personal experience I can only highly recommend them.

The guest was able to come downstairs for the mid-morning sherry and mince pies. These were home made in our kitchen, delicious, far better than anything Marks and Spencer could provide. Nicely warmed, we didn’t offer cream as well, but there was a complimentary brandy to go inside the coffee. Quite a few takers for that, especially with the older ladies.

Lunch was at 1:30pm, we were quite surprised when one elderly couple didn’t make it, but we were so busy we didn’t think anything more about their absence. That lunch was full on with the service. The booze sold was fantastic, everyone wanted a glass or bottle of wine with their lunch, crackers by every place, party hats, whistles, presents for everyone, we did a pretty good job of looking after them. Two hours later, replete, they disappeared for a snooze either to their rooms, or into the lounge. That was our cue to have lunch, we all sat in the dining room, exhausted, and had our repast. Delicious.

Pam and I dismissed everyone, all the staff went, just us to relax. Then the missing couple arrived.

‘Where is our Christmas lunch.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Where is our lunch?’

‘It was served three hours ago. Where were you?’

‘In our room, waiting for the call.’

‘What call?’

‘In every hotel we have previously stayed in for Christmas, they have knocked on our door, saying the Christmas meal will be served in half an hour. We could smell the delicious cooking, so here we are.’

‘Did it state anywhere in our Christmas itinerary that we would be knocking on your door?’

‘No, but we just assumed.’

‘Okay, well, sorry to disappoint, but lunch was three hours ago. If you give us half an hour, we will prepare something for you as best we can. Please go into the lounge and wait’

Aunty Joan, Pam and I went into the kitchen to retrieve what we could, the turkey carcass still had a fair amount of meat on it, there was a lot of stuffing, I got down to it and did some vegetables from the freezer, we turned on the microwave, lucky we still had a packet of Aunt Bessie’s frozen roast potatoes, as well as Yorkshire puds, in half an hour we had some fresh gravy, cranberry sauce, and the basics of a reasonable decent meal that wasn’t over-cooked, it tasted fresh, the meat was pretty good, and lovely and hot. Really don’t know how we managed, but teamwork.

The guests were satisfied, but I didn’t give them a free glass of wine. It wasn’t my fault they were too thick to work out when to eat.

As I am writing this section, Pam has come into the office. She had a nasty twitch, and quickly disappeared. She didn’t want me to see her cry!

We provided a cold plate for dinner at 7pm, quite surprising that everyone turned up, including the missing couple. Excellent appetite. It was just Pam and me for the evening, and while this was being eaten Charles the entertainer arrived.

He had an old piano keyboard with a single speaker. Attached was a microphone so you could hear him singing. At this time he must have been in his early 90s - okay, maybe slightly younger, but that is what he seemed like. He was the only entertainer we could get to come out on Christmas night demanding £150 in cash. He had a dirty old grey suit on, his lank hair was down to his shoulders, with his playing and singing abilities somewhat in question.

His popularity probably reached its heights during WW2. That was when his performance was at its peak, possibly even managing to play every black note and every white note in the correct order. That skill wasn’t in evidence that night. He might have known every word when Dame Vera Lynn was also at her peak, but when he played at the Sheldon that night he showed great skill at word and vocal improvisation. Years of practice.

He finished his set right on time at 10:30pm, when he had sufficiently murdered his performance to leave a total of five guests to the end. They were the ones with the hearing aid turned down. But entertainment was all part of the package.

***

Boxing morning arrived with no problems. Lift worked. All staff reported for work on time. All guests arrived for breakfast without complication. Today was pantomime day.

For those readers unaware, pantomime is a British Christmas theatre tradition going back at least 150 years. Men dress as elderly women, young women dress as young men, cast members throw sweets into the audience, children come on stage and play games, everyone screams and shouts, it’s all good clean raucous fun. The stars are usually people from television or traditional entertainment, supplemented by local performers.

Eastbourne has quite a few theatres, the Devonshire Park has a traditional pantomime each year written by the director of theatres. I had purchased much earlier on in the year fifty tickets for our guests, but only thirty wanted to go. Miserable lot, all they wanted to do was sit in the lounge, fall asleep, do the crossword, and have some more mid afternoon food. After all, they had paid for it, so they might as well eat it, and tough luck on those who went to the panto. So I was left with twenty tickets to the sell-out afternoon performance. I telephoned BBC Radio Sussex, and was introduced live on air. I told the presenter there were twenty free tickets for families with children waiting at reception, first come first served. Strangely, there wasn’t a rush, but all went. They had been budgeted for, and it was the right thing to do.

Pam and I took the night off. That was quite something to do, but we felt we deserved it, leaving the hotel in the hands of Moaner and Alice, as their friendship seemed to be quite a close one. We just needed a break, spending the evening with Aunty Joan, watching telly.

The next day, we waved our guests goodbye.

Tips were something that Pam and I just didn’t get involved with, leaving it to the staff to sort out between them. Yes, we received from the guest, but they went into a pot on the kitchen shelf, administered by them, this was quite a dangerous area for us to be involved with and we considered it prudent to distance ourselves. The pot was quite full after all guests had departed.

I gave most of the staff a month off.

We didn’t bother to open over the New Year, because very few hotels had much business during this period, not many people wanted to stay, and those that did were either on a budget, or of a rowdy nature and not worth bothering with.

Most of the Polish staff returned to their home country to celebrate the new year, leaving us with Moaner, Alice, and the English housekeeping staff. As there were no guests, we also gave them a break, as Alice could service any rooms we decided to let. Early January business was slow, but steady, with workmen as well as couples, so we knew we had sufficient public interest to keep the hotel open for business. The second week in January Pam and I went away on a marketing trip.