Best Intentions

When Sidney phoned Babington and told him that he was returning to Sanditon for the weekend – and probably going to stay a little longer -, his friend paused for a second. Then he said: "I might as well join you."

"You would?" Sidney was puzzled. After all, it had taken him two weeks to convince Babington to come to Sanditon for the Spring Ball.

"I have been thinking about working on my handicap," his friend said.

"I had no idea you are playing golf."

"Neither had I." Babington laughed. "But I found my first visit to Sanditon quite inspiring. Can you ask your brother for a room? And arrange a lesson with the golf instructor?"

"Of course. But I have to warn you. We'll be in the company of Gussie Griffiths and the world's most sulky teenager."

"Who's Gussie Griffiths?"

"Our former nanny. Arthur's nanny, mainly. Tom, Diana and I were out of nanny-age when our mother died. – I have arranged for her to look after Gigi," Sidney quickly continued, swiftly (as he believed) sailing around the topic of his mother.

"And you think that's a good idea?"

"Do you have a better one?"

Babington laughed. "No. I don't know anything about teenage girls. I've always considered them to be a foreign species from a different planet."

"Yes," Sidney said. "That's a perfect description of Gigi. Now add a first love gone terribly wrong, and expulsion from school and a father set off for a sailing trip around the world after marrying stepmother number three. And don't say I didn't warn you."

"I won't complain, I promise." Babington, good-natured as he was, laughed again before he rang off.

Now where Babington went, Crowe could not stay behind. In the end, a somewhat mixed party set off on Friday afternoon for another weekend in Sanditon: Babington and Crowe in Sidney's Aston Martin, and Sidney, a protesting Gigi and a frightening amount of luggage in Babington's more family-friendly BMW. They took a detour via Tunbridge Wells to pick up the nanny, a good-looking woman in her early fifties who could not stop pinching Sidney's cheeks and telling him what a fine and handsome man he had become – as if there had ever been a doubt about it. Gigi rolled her eyes, Babington hid his glee under the brim of his newly acquired golf cap, and Crowe said: "First love", pulled out his phone and took a picture. "Do you mind if I post it?"

"I do!" Sidney said, trying to squeeze Mrs Griffiths' luggage into the trunk of the BMW. He was already wondering whether this was such a good idea after all. Gigi was eyeing her new companion like a captured tiger considering which limb of his warden to consume first.

"You're such a bore, Parker," Crowe said. " – Oh, but it seems as if at least your brother is learning something about the magic of social media."

"Is he?"

"Look at that." Crowe showed him his phone. It was a mouth-watering picture of a Strawberry Secret, taken from a clever angle and hashtagged #sanditongrandhotel, #strawberrysecret, #yummie, #arthurparkeristhebest. "Four-hundred likes," Crowe said. "That's not too bad, considering your non-existent number of followers. I'll like it and share it, and then let's see what happens."

"Right," Sidney said. He did not intend to add likes and followers to his worries.

x

Charlotte's first week at the Sanditon Grand Hotel had worked out very well, despite the bumpy start at the ball. She took her distance from the Denham cousins and got on well with everyone else. She made friends with Mary Parker, and one afternoon even stepped in to pick up the girls from school. She helped out at breakfast when one of the waiters called in sick, she drove the hotel van to shuttle guests to the station and back when everyone else on that duty was detained otherwise, and she walked down to the beach whenever time permitted it. She also walked over to Regency Row and met James for a personal tour of the apartments.

Bookkeeping-wise she scored a great success when she got hold of Mr Mathews of Manchester on the phone and with well-chosen words reminded him of the bill for his daughter's wedding. "I have been wondering about that," Mr Mathews admitted. "Actually, at first, I thought Tom did not want to further hurt Hetty's feelings and therefore held it back. I found that very considerate of him at the time, especially thinking of how… well. Then I believed my wayward elder daughter and that scoundrel of a son-in-law had paid it all."

"They haven't, I'm afraid," Charlotte said. "But Mr Parker has to pay his staff and his suppliers."

"I understand. Just email me a copy, and I'll arrange everything." One hour later, he sent her a proof of payment.

She was less successful, though, when she contacted Lydia Hillier and went through her ideas for social media postings with her.

"Strawberry Secrets?" Lydia said. "I don't know. I would have to come up to Sanditon and take pictures."

"Yes," Charlotte said.

"I'm at Uni in Brighton right now."

"I can take the pictures," Charlotte suggested. "I'll send them to you, you edit and post them."

"How would you hashtag them?"

I have no idea, Charlotte thought. I don't even have an Instagram account. And I am not the one being paid five hundred pounds a month for social media services. "Do you know what?" she said. "Just give me the login details, and I'll post them myself."

She spent some time working out how to make a perfect Strawberry Secret even more shiny and glossy through clever editing, and then spent some more time to find out everything there was to know about Instagram.

When she published her first posting on Thursday afternoon, she was rather pleased with herself and the way things were going – so pleased that she felt confident enough to tell Phillida Beaufort to stop checking her phone while at work. So pleased that for the first time since the ball she could walk past the picture of Sidney Parker in the staircase without averting her eyes. A girl with so little understanding… Oh, what a presumptuous idiot the man was.

Mr Parker was very excited on Friday morning, running about the office and moving papers from the left side of his desk to the right and back. "My dear, have you been talking to Phillida about using her phone at work?"

"I have. I think it's highly unprofessional, and I also read an online review complaining that she was inattentive and busier checking her phone than looking after the guests. I sent a copy to you."

"Ah. I see." He sighed. "Next time such a thing occurs, speak to me about it first.– She is very sensitive and has called in sick for today, and so has her sister."

"I'm sorry," Charlotte said, though she wasn't really. Maybe it was time for the Beaufort girls to grow up?

"We are a family business, and we like to treat our employees as part of the family." Or maybe it was time for her to stop meddling in matters she did not understand? "Unfortunately, now I'm down a receptionist for the late shift," Mr Parker sighed.

"Maybe I can… help out," she said. Mr Parker's face lighted up.

"Would you? You're a treasure, Charlotte. I'll ask Esther to explain everything to you, and I'm sure you'll manage." She nodded. It was Friday, and she had promised James to meet him at the Crown for a drink tonight, but work was work, and the Beaufort sisters' absence, however ridiculous it was, was primarily her fault.

Mr Parker's phone started ringing, and he talked to Lady Denham for a few minutes. Charlotte did not pay full attention to what was being said, for Lady Denham's calls usually consisted of her ladyship saying quite a lot and Mr Parker very little, merely adding a "Yes", "Certainly", "You are very good, Lady Denham".

"Splendid," he said after ringing off. "Lady Denham has invited you to her luncheon party on Sunday."

"Oh?"

"She's giving a Sunday luncheon once every month. – Old family tradition," he added with a wink. "A sign of appreciation for whoever happens to grace Sanditon with their presence at the time. What a lucky coincidence that my brother will be here as well!"

"Your brother?" Charlotte said, hoping she had misheard.

"Yes, of course. Sidney is coming down tonight for the weekend. Didn't I tell you?"

"No," Charlotte said. The same brother that was always too busy for visiting his family?

"And he's bringing quite a party with him… his two London friends again and his foster daughter."

"Foster daughter?" She must have misheard again. Maybe she should have her hearing tested.

"Oh yes. His mentor's daughter… a young girl he's looking after while her father is on his… hm, I think third or fourth honeymoon." Mr Parker laughed. Charlotte tried to smile, but inwardly she shook her head. Which responsible father would trust his young daughter to the care of that superficial, self-centred idiot? Mr Parker had given her the answer already: a father on his fourth honeymoon. Poor girl.

"That reminds me," Mr Parker said, running to the door. "Esther! Sidney's friend, the lordship, wants to take a golf lesson on Saturday. Can you arrange something with your brother?"

Esther rolled her eyes. "I believe I should rather arrange for a fishing permit."

"No, it's golf, my dear. Sidney explicitly said so. – Why would he want to go fishing?"

"Because he's after the fish," Esther said. Charlotte could not help but think that both she and Mr Parker missed part of Esther's meaning, but she did not ask. More important than his lordship's preferred leisure activities was the quick training Esther gave her for the late shift she was to cover.

It was going to be a rather busy Friday night, with many guests checking in for a wedding party on Saturday. Sidney Parker and his company arrived only a few minutes after Mr Parker had returned from picking up the girls from school, leading to a loud and happy welcome with lots of hugs and kisses. Mary Parker came to meet them with Henry and little Jamie, adding to the general excitement.

"No fuss with registration here," Mr Parker cried, handing out the keys to his brother's party. "We are amongst friends."

Charlotte eyed them; they were Sidney's friends from the ball: Babington, the lord with the amiable smile, and the scrawny curly-head, a man called Crowe. Much more fascinating was, of course, the foster daughter, a slender black girl perhaps four or five years Charlotte's junior that did not join the general hello. In fact, she stood a few steps apart like an outlier and was looking around herself with an expression as if she was planning which glass cabinet to smash first.

"Ladies first," Mr Parker exclaimed. "So, Miss Lambe and Mrs Griffiths – dear Gussie – it's the Denham Suite for you. Fourth floor, the most marvellous view of the coastline included. Your luggage will be taken care of."

"I will not share with that woman," the girl said.

"Oh, but my dear, you have two bedrooms to choose from, plus the lounge, and a walk-in wardrobe. Now, his lordship… that's room 314 – and Mr Crowe, 312. Third floor. – Sidney, I thought I'd put you into last week's room in the attic again? We're fully booked tomorrow, due to the wedding. - Do you have the key ready, Charlotte?"

"Not a problem, Tom," Sidney said, not looking at Charlotte when she handed him the key. He hates it, she thought. Of course, he hates it. We will be neighbours again.

"Splendid. Splendid! Now, I suggest you all settle in, and then we'll meet for tea in the Conservatory. Arthur has been busy baking, I hear." Mr Parker clapped his hands, and the party scuttled off to the elevator. It took some time until that ancient device had accommodated and transported first the luggage and then the guests, and in the end, Sidney Parker remained alone in front of the sliding doors, waiting for the next turn.

Charlotte looked around. Tom Parker and his family had retreated to the Conservatory, and apart from his brother staring at the shiny "up" button, the lobby was empty. It was now or never.

She left the reception desk and walked over to the elevator. "Mr Parker, may I have a word?"

He turned to her, his expression still hostile. Charlotte took a deep breath.

"Our conversation at the ball… I think I expressed myself badly. I never meant to disparage your brothers, or to offend you. After my first week here, I have come to feel the greatest admiration for your family's commitment to the hotel." Now that she had started, the words were just pouring out of her, uncontrollable. "You were right to rebuke me, and I am really, really sorry. I just hope you won't think too badly of me."

Sidney looked down on her, in that annoying way of his that made her feel even shorter than she was. "Think badly of you?" One of his eyebrows went up. "I don't think of you at all, Miss Heywood. - I am not interested in your approval or disapproval," he added. "Quite simply, I don't care. Sorry if that disappoints you, but there it is. Have I made myself clear?"

Absolutely.

Charlotte felt the tears welling up again. But her anger prevailed. She had tried to reach out to him, to make amends. And this was his reaction? What an ass. She lifted her chin and looked him square in the eye.

"Only if you really don't care, Mr Parker, I wonder why you take the trouble to be quite so offensive and hurtful. – Enjoy your stay." And with that, she turned and walked back to the reception desk, fighting down those stupid tears that were threatening to overcome her. If only he did not see how much she trembled. When she finally managed to look up, he was gone.

Notes:

The next chapter is about "Shining Knights".