Chapter 13

The streets outside were thronged with people who wanted to say that they were one of the first to have crossed the threshold of the extravagant new hotel, fitted with luxuries that had never been seen before. The photographers and news reporters hovered and asked questions, eager for news for their papers.

‘I believe the Palace is a wedding present to yourself and Miss Robinson,’ a reporter from the Leeds Mercury shouted at William Winfield and his fiancée as they stood in the middle of the group of the most important staff at the Palace. ‘How do you feel about that, Miss Robinson?’

‘I’m most grateful to my future father-in-law,’ she curtly replied. ‘I’m such a lucky woman, living so close to my husband’s work, albeit in such a grand setting.’ She tried to smile. When she had first courted William Winfield, she had in mind grander living accommodation than a two-bedroom apartment in a hotel. She had hoped for a large house set in its own grounds; instead, she had been given work on her own doorstep and a place to live surrounded by other people with no privacy. And she stood high in Leeds society – it was right for her to expect more.

‘Is the wedding still set for June the twenty-third? Will the reception be held here? Can we expect any famous names to attend, Mr Winfield?’ the reporter shouted at William.

‘I’m sorry,’ he responded with a friendly smile, ‘today is about the opening of the Palace. However, yes, the wedding is still scheduled for June the twenty-third and the reception will be here, but it will only be family and very close friends who are invited.’ William glanced at Faith; he hadn’t discussed the wedding plans with her of late – the hotel had taken up too much of his time and too much of his and his father’s money, if truth be told, and this would come as news to her. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, we have, as I’m sure you know, work to do. Father, over to you.’

Thomas Winfield looked down at the crowds and smiled as he waved for the staff gathered around him to go and attend their positions in readiness for the baying crowds. ‘It’s my pleasure to announce that the Palace is now open! Please join us in our celebrations.’

He cut the ribbon that had been placed across one of the revolving doors and watched as the people swarmed in like bees into a hive as he, William and Faith stood to one side. This was the day he had waited for and it was his proudest moment; he’d battled Leeds Corporation for planning consents, argued with the banks, but today was the day when he would start to see some return for all his hard work and settle his son in a home for life, regardless of how ungrateful his future daughter-in-law had sounded.

William patted his father on the back as they walked into the lobby. ‘Thank you, Father, this means everything to me. It is the best present anyone could possibly receive and I will run it with love and care. Just look at the astonishment everyone is showing as they look around – there isn’t another place like this in the whole of Yorkshire.’ William smiled happily as he looked around, and then he noticed Faith disappearing up the stairs, away from the eyes of the fascinated crowd.

Thomas saw the disappointment on his son’s face. ‘I don’t think Faith shares the same dream as us, William. I heard the note of sarcasm in her reply to the reporters. I only hope that she changes her mind and sees that she will want for nothing when this place becomes the success we both know it will be.’ Thomas sighed. He’d not said anything to his only son, but he had, from the outset of William’s courtship, wondered if Faith was more interested in William’s money than the man himself.

‘Oh, she’ll return shortly, Father. She’ll be savouring our new rooms and thinking of personal touches that she can add once she has moved into the apartment.’ William tried to hide the doubt in his eyes; of late, he and Faith had not seen eye to eye over many things, the biggest being that they must live in a busy hotel with William on call twenty-four hours a day.

‘Well, I hope she will – she’ll be the face of the Palace and I expect that of her at least.’ Thomas looked at his son and gauged his mood. ‘You know it’s not too late to change your mind? You don’t have to go ahead with the wedding, William, the hotel will still be yours and it’s not as if she is in the family way.’

‘Father, please! Don’t say another word. I love Faith and the wedding stands. Now, don’t let any doubts spoil this day. I’ll speak to Faith later before she returns home. As I say, she will have gone to our rooms to rearrange what we have placed in them so far, that is all.’ William smiled wanly; he’d say anything not to spoil his father’s big day, but he knew by the looks on Faith’s face that he would, yet again, be arguing with her over something he hadn’t realised that he’d done which had upset her.

Mary and her girls had never seen so many people in one space before and they couldn’t serve them fast enough, even with Mary giving the girls a hand behind the bar.

‘I hope that it’s not this busy every day,’ Beth said quietly to Mary. ‘We’ll be run off our feet.’

‘It’s curiosity today; half of them have come to have a good nosy. Some of them are just standing and looking at the chandeliers and wondering how the incandescent bulbs will be changed. I hope they don’t ask me, because I haven’t got a clue. I’m still in awe of them myself!’ Mary laughed.

‘Here, lass, can I have a gin when you’ve done talking?’ An elderly man leaned over the bar and looked at Mary.

‘Certainly, sir, which one would you like? Old Tom, Plymouth Dry, Hendrick’s, Sapphire? And would that be with tonic or just neat?’ Mary enquired.

‘Bloody hell, I just want a gin, not an encyclopaedia! And you can hold the bloody fizzy water,’ he replied and stuck his finger out at the Old Tom bottle. Mary served him quickly and watched him battle his way through the crowds as the next customer made their way to her.

‘He’s one from the old school; I’ve been mostly serving gin with tonic and a slice of lemon this morning – the way they drink it in India is more popular now and it’s not as savage to drink. It’s quite refreshing – even I like a tipple,’ Shona shouted down the bar as she smiled at her next customer.

‘Lordy, we’re busy!’ Molly laughed as she passed her customer two pints of dark stout and waited until he counted the change out of his pocket. ‘I can hardly hear the piano playing. I think he’s playing Daisy Bell. Oh, I love that song, especially the bicycle made for two chorus. My mam sings it all the time and drives my father crazy because she’s always out of tune.’

‘Oh, thank goodness for that!’ Mary exclaimed. ‘Mr Birbeck has sent some waiters to help us out. They can collect the dirty glasses and see to anyone who wants a repeat drink. I thought that he’d gone back on his word.’ She sighed with relief as three waiters dressed in dapper eveningwear came in with pristine white napkins over their arms and quickly started to clear any empty glasses which had been left on the tables and enquire of the people sitting if they wanted a drink. ‘Beth, you see to the waiters’ orders and us three will serve everybody else – I think it will quieten down after the first hour or so,’ Mary said, hoping that what she said would come true as she watched customers shove for a position at the bar and try and grab her attention by waving their money.

‘Mr Birbeck sends his apologies, Miss Reynolds. He’s so busy he doesn’t know which way to turn, else we would have been here earlier. Every room downstairs is busy and poor Mr Braithwaite is nearly exploding, he has that many orders of luncheon to see to. Mr Winfield himself is behind the check-in desk, helping out because there are that many people wanting to stay here,’ the more senior of the waiters said to Mary as he waited for his tray of drinks from Beth.

‘I’m just thankful you’re here now. So, Mr Birbeck is doing a good job in his role as manager and I’ll tell him so next time that I talk to him.’

‘Thank you, miss, I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. We’ve all decided his bark is worse than his bite because he’s been pretty fair with us this morning when one or two of us made mistakes,’ the waiter said as he looked around the room. ‘It’s a posh place, this, and I see you have a door that leads out directly onto the street without going through the lobby. That’s a stroke of genius, because ordinary folk can come in, nearly unnoticed, grab a drink and then leave. You’re always going to be busy in this part of the world.’

‘Yes, we’re getting a mixture of all sorts of customers this morning and I expect it will continue like that all day. I think the Winfields can be proud of themselves – I certainly would be – and Miss Robinson should be thankful for such a generous gift to get them started in life. Not that we should comment about our employer’s lives.’

‘From the gossip that I’ve been hearing, I don’t think that she is. Did you not see her face as she walked away after the photographs and reporters? She’s not taken part in anything this morning, except the glamorous bit,’ the waiter said and shook his head as he balanced the tray, laden with different drinks given to him by Beth, in his hands and then weaved his way through the crowd.

‘Trouble at the mill already?’ Beth smiled at Mary. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear, but as you say it is none of our business,’ she added and then went on to put the next tray of drinks together.

Mary looked around her; how could anyone not appreciate all the work and the craftsmanship that had been put into the building of the Palace? She had taken an instant dislike to Faith Robinson, who was clearly the sort of person who liked to keep other people in their place. The few times that she had spoken to her, Faith had had a sneering look of contempt on her face and she never seemed to agree with her fiancé, William. However, it was nothing to do with her, she thought, as she smiled at her next customer, while still watching that her three girls were doing their duties. She just hoped that there was enough drink in the cellars below to keep the bar topped up for what was going to be a long day …

‘I don’t know about you, Miss Reynolds, but I’m just a little on the tired side.’ Roger Birbeck leaned on the bar, which was being closed and cleaned by all Mary’s three tired girls before they went home.

‘Yes, it’s been a long but profitable day. My feet ache and my head is throbbing,’ Mary said as she watched her girls finish their work for the day. ‘Be careful walking back home, you three, and thank you for your work today – we couldn’t have survived without you all.’

‘Thank you, Mary,’ all three chimed together as they pulled on their coats and secured their hats and walked slowly out of the bar by the side door.

‘Mary, is it? Do you not think they should call you Miss Reynolds? Shouldn’t you distinguish yourself from them, else they will think that you are no better than them?’ Roger looked at Mary, frowning.

‘I’m happy with being called Mary, because I am no better than them; I’m just a bar girl who is good at her job and I’m not one for airs and graces. Besides, when you all work in such a small space you have to get on with one another, else it doesn’t work.’

‘As long as you can keep them in line. I’m afraid I will be demanding the staff call me Mr Birbeck – it’s only good manners,’ Roger huffed and looked at the drinks behind him. ‘There’s plenty to go there. I see that you have my favourite whisky – I’m partial to a drop of James Eadie’s Trade Mark X,’ he said with a glint in his eye.

‘Would you like a tot now? Mr Winfield said I could have a drink on the house at the end of the day and, as I don’t drink, there’s no fear of me ever doing that.’ Mary knew full well, by the look on his face, what his answer would be.

‘No, I couldn’t ask you to go behind the bar again, it’s closed for the night. But I must admit it would be a grand nightcap, something to help me sleep after such a hard day. I have no doubt it will be just the same in the morning, for nearly every room has guests booked in them.’ Roger looked over at the bottle that had caught his attention.

‘Then let me get you one – and you are welcome to have a free one on the house every night. Just the one, mind, because it’s me who will have to account for it if any more is drunk,’ Mary said as she quickly went behind the long bar, opened the bottle and poured a dram into a tumbler for the eager-eyed Roger. ‘I’ve no ice, but you can add a splash of water to it.’ Mary pushed the water jug, which had the advertisement for James Eadie’s whisky blazoned on it, towards Roger.

‘Nay, you don’t spoil a good thing by watering it down,’ he said as he took the tumbler from Mary and quickly swigged it back. ‘You are a good woman and I’ll take you up on your offer of a wee dram together of an evening. Not every night, but it will be welcome sup with the good company of an evening when I’m feeling low.’

‘Are you not married, Mr Birbeck?’ Mary asked and looked at him as he placed his tumbler down on the bar. ‘Is there no Mrs Birbeck?’

‘No, my life in the army never let me settle long enough and nobody would want me now. I’m too set in my ways, and too long in the tooth now that I’m in my mid-forties. Once the army had done with me I thought this job working here was ideal for me, seeing that it came with living accommodation and meals, and I felt it would be time to have an easier life. But after today I don’t know if easy is the right word!’ Roger put his empty tumbler down on the bar and looked at Mary. ‘And yourself, what brings an attractive young single woman to be working here?’

‘I like to be independent, Mr Birbeck. I’ve no family and, like yourself, I have no commitments nor any intention of settling down as of yet. My work here will be my world for now.’ Mary stifled a yawn and wished that she could go to bed but didn’t want to be rude.

‘Please, it’s Roger, when we’re alone. Now, we are both tired and I suggest we call it a day. Which floor are you on? They’ve seen fit, in their wisdom, to have put me up in the heavens in a rather large attic bedroom – I think, perhaps, to keep me away from the rest of the staff.’ He grinned.

‘I’m on the third floor, just above the turret, where I have a good view of the Headrow.’ Mary looked at the empty glass on the bar; it could wait to be washed in the morning. The rest of the room would be cleaned and freshened by the maids and another day would soon be upon them all, she thought, as she and Roger made their way up the sweeping stairs to their rooms.

‘Good night, Mary,’ Roger said as he left her on the third floor. He watched as she walked to her room and then made his way to his. Mary Reynolds was an extremely good-looking woman and he knew she had spirit after the way she’d put him in his place that morning. Perhaps she was the woman he had been waiting for all his life, he thought, as he stripped down to his vest and laid his suit out for the following day before climbing into his bed, plus she came with the benefit of a whisky each night. Perhaps life was going his way after all …

Downstairs, Mary lay in her bed; she was exhausted but she couldn’t sleep for the noise that was coming from the flat below her. It was after midnight but she could hear William Winfield and his fiancée shouting and rowing over something or other. Everyone, it seemed, had seen the displeasure on Faith’s face, although she herself had been oblivious to it as she had been too concerned about the running of her bar. She pulled the pillow over her head as she heard doors bang and plates crash. This in no way sounding like a happy arrangement, she thought, and even with the pillow she could still hear William shouting, ‘Please come back, Faith! Let’s talk.’

Mary breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. It was probably just a lover’s tiff, but everyone above and below must have heard it. William deserved so much better than Faith, she thought, as she at last settled down to sleep. But as long as the hotel and bar were all right, that was all she was concerned about. The Palace might not be owned by her, but she had found happiness in her new surroundings and no way did she want it to change. As she slowly closed her eyes on the day, she hoped that the argument below her was just a momentary thing, that tensions had been running high with the opening day and that it would not affect her or the running of the hotel …