Page 9 of Coming Home to Maple Tree Lodge

‘So,’ said Ben, trying to drag some semblance of order to the meeting as his grandmother continued with her knitting and his mother topped and tailed runner beans into a bowl. ‘Now that the plumbing is done and the electrics are underway, we need to come up with some kind of marketing plan for when the renovations are finished.’

It had been a major undertaking during the past six months. Ben hadn’t realised quite how run-down the place had become before he had inherited it from his dad. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to see, he had often wondered. But the fact of the matter was that the renovations had been necessary in order for themto comply with all the modern rules and regulations for hotels. Updating all the electrical wiring and then replastering were the last two major jobs before decorating. And a good job too, he knew, as he had almost run out of money.

His eyes drifted towards the window and the small gamekeeper’s lodge beyond where his grandparents now lived. He’d managed to persuade his grandmother that it had also needed updating. Dotty was happy to go along with it, especially with a new stove and walk-in shower. Meanwhile Walter had mumbled and muttered about the unnecessary cost but had never denied that it needed doing for ease of living.

Ben glanced at his grandad. Walter had retained his tough, can-do attitude despite his advanced years and nothing Ben had done to the place had been good enough for his grandad, or so it felt to him. He’d complained about the new en suites as being ‘too fancy’ and the roof slates not being the same shade as before. That morning he had grumbled at the new silver light switches in the reception hall being ‘a bit flash’ which had led to Ben walking out, feeling that it was the last straw.

Ben daydreamed about what he would be doing now if he hadn’t needed to come home. Being his own boss and building a great reputation in business. At the beginning of the year, he had had an efficient work team around him, hanging on his every word. And now? He caught the scowl on his grandad’s face. Everything had changed in his life. And not for the better.

‘What’s a marketing plan?’ asked Walter, his grey eyebrows knitted into a frown. ‘And why do we need one of those?’

‘Because we’re not receiving any bookings so something’s amiss,’ replied Ben.

‘How would you know?’ retorted Walter. ‘You’re not in the hotel business. You even wanted to turn it into a conference centre! Pah!’

Ben blanched at the reminder. It hadn’t been his finest idea, he knew. And thankfully it hadn’t met with planners’ approval. But, as always, his first instinct had been to try to find any source of income to keep them from losing the hotel. He had thought that if he copied the competition it would work but it had been a bad idea from the outset, he knew. Worst of all, it had built mistrust into his grandad’s view of him.

‘It’s a family inn,’ carried on Walter, on his favourite topic. ‘People like that. Not some bland resort that looks the same whichever town you’re in.’

Which was exactly what Maple Tree Lodge would become if they had to sell, thought Ben with a heavy heart. The letter from the conglomerate with its large offer of money felt as if it were burning a hole in his pocket. He hadn’t wanted to burden his family with any more pressure so it was his secret to keep. His millstone to carry around with him until he finally found a solution to all their problems.

‘People don’t want a fancy place with a spa,’ said Walter, warming to his theme. ‘That’s not why they come here.’

‘They’re not coming here at all at the moment,’ muttered Ben.

‘That’s because of all these ridiculous updates you’ve got going on. The hotel will run just fine when it’s all finished,’ said Walter, with a huff.

No, it’s not, Ben wanted to shout at the top of his voice. But he didn’t. He loved his grandad and didn’t want to upset him any more than he seemed to with every conversation.

‘I stayed on to help,’ he said, trying to remain calm.

‘You didn’t need to,’ muttered Walter. ‘This place was working fine before you got here and it will work just fine once you leave.’

No, it won’t, thought Ben. Because it was only his own money that was keeping them afloat.

‘You’re not leaving, are you?’ asked Faye, turning to look at her son. He could see the tears in her eyes across the table.

He shook his head. ‘I hadn’t planned on it yet, Mum,’ he said.

‘Good,’ interjected Dotty before turning to look at her husband. ‘We need Ben and his young blood around here.’

‘Humph,’ said Walter. ‘I think I do just fine.’

‘Is that why the doctor had to up your blood pressure medication?’ asked Dotty in a mild tone.

‘Doctors,’ muttered Walter. ‘What do they know?’

‘Only what all their years of medical training has taught them, Grandad,’ said Hannah. ‘Now is that it? I want to check on Lily.’

Still needing his sister’s solidarity, Ben gave Hannah a despairing look. ‘We haven’t even started to talk about a marketing plan yet. This meeting isn’t over.’

‘I reckon it is,’ said Walter, reaching over to pour himself a glass of water. ‘He keeps going on about us not making money and then all he does is spend it.’

Ben rubbed his forehead, which was beginning to ache. It was the same battle over and over. Nothing needed to change according to his grandad.

He had gone from being the successful partner in his own company to feeling like a teenager once more. He had no control. No new ideas were allowed to flourish. He had a permanent mark on his tongue from biting it so much. And everyone’s stress levels were through the roof from the tension between them.

Ben was beginning to lose his temper. ‘Well, all the money I’ve spent has come from my own savings, Grandad. Not yours because…’