Substantial Conversations
It all went well. Nursed by a glass of the oldest whiskey the hotel bar had on the menu, Doktor Fuchs fell asleep quickly, dreamt well and awoke to the squawk of a seagull – a natural wake-up call he found rather endearing, as he told Tom and Sidney when he met them on Friday morning.
Sidney had decided to join his brother for his business breakfast. Just a precaution, he told himself, just in case Lady Denham barged in again – and if she did, to make sure that Tom did not again forget to apologise for her behaviour. He also thought it might be useful for him to learn something about hotel deals and group contracting.
Doktor Fuchs thoroughly enjoyed his English breakfast, and in between settling contract terms, he returned many times to the buffet to refill his plate. As to the terms, Sidney could not find any fault in them, apart from the fact that the Doktor managed to negotiate a rate that was a little lower than what Tom had anticipated. But that, Sidney said to himself, was probably the price they had to pay for Lady Denham's presumptions. Had it not been for Charlotte Heywood, the cost would have been much, much higher.
With all copies signed, Tom took his new business partner to a tour of the grounds, and after that, it was already noon and time for Doktor Fuchs to say goodbye. His au-revoir was even more cordial than his welcome. He shook everyone's hands twice – and Charlotte's even once more –, gathered the lunch packet Arthur had prepared for him and climbed next to Tom into the passenger seat of the hotel van to be chauffeured down to Sanditon station.
When the van had vanished beyond the bend, Sidney waited until Mary, Clara and Esther had returned to the hotel. Charlotte, her clipboard in her hand, was still outside, inspecting the hydrangea growth around the car park. He wondered what she was scribbling on that clipboard all the time. Friday. Number of times Sidney Parker has been annoying: zero, so far. She suddenly turned around, as if she had sensed that he had been watching her. Sidney cleared his throat and walked over to her. It was now or never.
"I must admit, Miss Heywood. You have given a good account of yourself these last few days. I had not expected you to be so… capable." Did he really say that? He sounded like a misogynistic professor, even to his own ears. But she lowered her clipboard instead of taking notes on it and did not flinch away from his gaze.
"Because I'm a young woman, or because you had dismissed me as inexperienced?" He twitched his mouth.
"A little of both, I think. And then you single-handedly saved Tom's contract yesterday, and I don't believe you have received the credit for it that you deserve. So on behalf of the Parker family: thank you, and please accept my apologies for dismissing you."
"I accept your apologies," she said with that smile that made the dimple in her chin a little more prominent. "Especially since I'm equally guilty of dismissing you."
"Oh? As what?" he asked, bracing himself. If this was about reconciliation, he would have to endure some truths as well. She certainly was not going to spare him.
"Well, if I'm perfectly honest, I had come to the opinion that you possess absolutely no empathy," she said.
"And what have I done to deserve such judgement?"
"Well, you always seem so reluctant to help your family with the hotel."
"That is hardly fair. It was always clear that I would break with the family tradition, and yet, here I am, after spending hours feeding Strawberry Secrets to Doktor Fuchs."
"But don't you see how much they want to have you more involved?" Did they? Sidney was taken aback. He had had no idea. Her large eyes were scanning him. "Have you ever walked past your family gallery in the staircase?" she asked. "Have you ever seen that photograph of yours?"
"Of course I have." He started to wonder where this was leading to. And whether that reconciliation thing had been such a good idea after all. There was a little colour in her cheeks now, and the light sea breeze played in her hair.
"There is a group picture of the family, but there is no photograph of Tom alone, or Arthur alone, or Diana alone. That's your privilege only – and the picture is A3 size! They are so proud of you, and yet you behave as if someone's forced you to eat a lemon when your brother asks for your support in an important business deal." She lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry. I did it again. Go on, tell me that I am speaking out of turn and that you don't care a fig for what I have to say."
Sidney shook his head. "I invited your opinion. And actually – for once – I believe there may be some truth in what you say. The hotel is a family business, and I tend to forget that I am part of that family."
Charlotte looked up again. There was doubt written in her eyes, but also mischief. "Coming from you, Mr Parker, I shall take that as the greatest compliment imaginable."
He gave her a small smile, then stared at the hydrangea behind her for some seconds before starting to speak again. After all, he was only halfway through with what he wanted to say, and the more difficult part still lay ahead of him.
"Miss Heywood," he finally said. "Err… I… I have been meaning to say: our meeting down at the cove. I hope that you were not too embarrassed." The little colour in her cheeks deepened, but there was also still that sparkle of mischief in her eyes.
"Why should I be embarrassed?" she asked, keeping his gaze. "I was fully clothed."
"Yes. Very good point." Had he ever thought of her as prim and nerdy? She was anything but. "That was hardly fair of you. Ambushing me like that," he added, lifting an eyebrow. Now her colour rose even more. Well, maybe a little prim after all. So little that it was actually rather cute.
"I can assure you, I did not ambush you," she said with emphasis.
"Nor I you." He could barely hide his smile, keeping eye contact with her. She was the one to break away, tapping on her clipboard.
"Well then," she said.
"Well then," Sidney replied, shaking his head as he watched her walk over to the hotel entrance, head held high. He had undoubtedly achieved something during this conversation. He just could not safely say what it was.
x
After a lunch break with James in the show apartment of Regency Row, Charlotte returned to a busy afternoon in the office. Mr Parker was out for a meeting with a potential client on the golf course, and Charlotte used the quiet hours to catch up on some of her work. She called the gardener – the hydrangea wall would look lovely once they were in full bloom. Still, the rest of the green space around the hotel needed tending -, checked some supply orders and more accounting, took some calls for Mr Parker, prepared a new Instagram post and drafted answers for guest reviews. There was another one complaining about the girl at the reception desk being more interested in her phone than her guests. She forwarded this one to Mr Parker with a note saying that they definitely had to have a serious conversation with the Beaufort girls.
Work was the perfect distraction from thinking about that strange conversation with Sidney Parker. Had he actually apologised to her? Both for the balcony scene and the cove? Was it conceivable that she had had him wrong?
There was still some work left on her table and some thinking undone in her head when a crying Henry scrambled into the office, tears all over his face, snot running from his nose. Whatever it was, it was the end of the world – at least when for a four-year-old.
"Henry? Darling little man, what's the matter?" Charlotte dropped the invoice she had been checking and gathered him up to her lap, not caring about snot ruining her blouse. Being the eldest girl of several siblings, she knew how to distinguish sham tears from real ones. This was the real deal, utter despair holding the little boy in a firm grip. She searched for a tissue and wiped his face. In between sobs and hiccups, she understood "san'castle" and "shovel" and "Jenny'nalicia" and "Unglesinney", and slowly it dawned on her that it was Friday and that she had promised Jenny and Alicia to go to the beach with them this afternoon, but girls only, no boys unless it was Uncle Sidney, who was no boy anyway.
Sure enough, that same Uncle Sidney appeared within moments in the doorframe, looking very casual in Bermuda shorts and a t-shirt, and said: "Miss Heywood. Apparently, we have been set up for a playdate on the beach."
"I… oh dear, is it really so late already? Are the girls back from school?"
"They are, and ready to go. Everyone's waiting for you. Oh, Henry, what's the matter?" He lifted his nephew from Charlotte's lap and kneeled down, nestling Henry on his thigh. "You didn't think I'd go to the beach with those ghastly girls and leave you behind?" Henry's sobs confirmed that that had been his fear precisely.
"But you're my mate, Henry. There's no fun to be had without you. Come on, let's high five." Henry did, his small hand smacking Sidney's large one. "Tell you what, those ladies will have to put up with both of us, or with neither of us."
"I think we'll take both of you," Charlotte said with a smile as Henry rubbed his snotty nose on Sidney's t-shirt. Sidney looked up to her.
"Will you?"
"Yes," she heard herself say. "The beach is wide enough for several Parker-egos."
"You have five minutes to get yourself into beach gear, Miss Heywood," he said. "The van is waiting in front of the hotel."
It took Charlotte a little longer than five minutes to braid her hair, apply sun lotion, change into trainers, shorts and a t-shirt, and throw everything that might come in handy on the beach into a large shoulder bag. "You are late," Jenny said from the backbench as Charlotte finally climbed into the passenger seat. "You'll have to take care of Henry if he needs to pee."
"Any more fine print I should be aware of before launching myself into this adventure?" she asked.
"We might bury you in the sand," Alicia said.
"Or feed you to the sea serpent," Jenny added.
"I don't need help when I have to pee," Henry protested.
"You do!" Alicia and Jenny cried simultaneously, causing havoc on the backbench.
"We can still turn around," Sidney said to Charlotte, navigating around a wayward golf cart on the road. "If you're not feeling up to this."
"I'm feeling perfectly up to this." Charlotte smiled. "I have six younger siblings." This caused the backbench to quieten down, at least for a second.
"Six!" Jenny cried after two seconds.
"Yes. Plus two elder brothers. So, if any of you thinks I'm intimidated by a bunch of Parker babies, I have to disappoint you."
"I'm not a baby," Henry said.
"Neither am I," Sidney added.
"I have noticed that much, Mr Parker."
x
The weather was keeping warm and sunny and just perfect for an afternoon on the beach. Sidney parked the van in the tiny parking lot at the entrance of the promenade, making sure to observe all parking laws. Then he sent out Jenny to find the best spot on the beach for them and started to unload several bags, blankets, towels, shovels, plastic buckets and rackets from the car.
"Are we going to camp out on the beach until October?" Charlotte asked as he dragged a monstrous picnic basket forward.
"I think Mary said a maximum of two hours," he admitted with a grin. "Alicia – your cap! – Henry, will you take care of the engineering equipment? – Thank you," he added as his nephew trod off with a family supply of shovels and buckets.
The best spot Jenny had found for them was close to the dunes, and they put up a windscreen, laid out their blankets, took off their shoes and checked out the contents of the picnic basket Arthur had lovingly assorted for them. Sidney smiled as the children happily grabbed the sticky chocolate mini muffins and Charlotte indulged in a Strawberry Secret. He offered her his as well.
"Are you sure you don't want that for yourself?" she asked.
"Absolutely. Arthur is the sweet tooth in the family."
"Lucky me," Charlotte said and tucked in. He was curious to know what it was like to grow up in such a large family – with eight siblings, second servings of any dessert must have been a rare treat. But then it seemed such a personal question to ask, and they had only just found such a delicate truce. So he remained silent.
Jenny grabbed Charlotte's hand. "You promised to build a sandcastle with us."
"Did I?"
"Yes, you did. And you have to keep your promises, even if you are an adult." Especially if you are an adult, Sidney thought as Alicia grabbed Charlotte's other hand, and together with her sister, pulled her to her feet and dragged her to the shoreline. The three ladies quickly went to work. But before Sidney could meditate on the fact how pleasing it was to watch a beautiful young woman in beach shorts build a sandcastle, a sticky little hand tugged at his arm. "Shuttlecock, please, Uncle Sinney."
So they played shuttlecock. If one was perfectly honest, it was more a game of pick up, for the two players were so different in size and strength and experience. More than once Henry stumbled over his own racket, but he always landed softly on the sand, and his enthusiasm and happiness every time he managed to hit the shuttlecock made up for any deficiencies during the game.
He's just another Sanditon Parker boy, Sidney mused as Henry vanished into the dunes to pick up another misguided shuttlecock. Unable to give up and admit defeat once he had caught fire. Like the first Mr Parker, the projector, and his son Henry, the hotel builder, and like his own brother and little Henry's father, and like many Parker-men in the generations between them.
Sidney did not count himself among them: he was an outlier, the sensible one. He was absolutely capable of catching fire for a cause, but he was also capable of admitting defeat if the facts allowed no other interpretation.
Henry returned, beaming and balancing the shuttlecock on the racket, but Alicia was quicker to claim Sidney's attention. "Can you inspect our sandcastle, Uncle Sidney? You can be the Prince Regent, and you're on tour to inspect all fortresses along the coast."
"Am I allowed to bring my aide, Lieutenant Henry?"
"Only if he doesn't trample the moat," Alicia said.
"I don't trample the moat!" Henry cried, stumbling over his racket.
The sandcastle turned out to be a truly massive constellation by the shoreline, ready to rival Dover castle with its towers, moats, walls and gateways. "What's that?" Sidney asked, pointing to one half of a cockle attached to the highest tower.
"That's the castle's commander," Alicia explained. "Admiral Heywood."
"Admiral Heywood," Sidney repeated, seeking the gaze of the Admiral's namesake. What a fitting title. The Admiral's namesake blushed. "I think the commander needs a break," Sidney said. "Time to have another look into that picnic basket. Arthur will be offended until the end of his life if it does not come back completely empty."
"Now I can't have that," Charlotte said.
The children remained by the shoreline, paddling in the shallow water, fishing for shells and other treasures of the sea. Sidney opened the basket once more, and Charlotte helped herself to sandwich triangles and apple juice. He watched her settle on the blanket, the beauty spot on her shoulder becoming visible again as her shirt's neckline shifted and the breeze tousled her hair.
With eight siblings and her father a Herefordshire farmer, an afternoon by the sea must have been another luxury she had never come by. What an idiot he had been to reproach her for her age and lack of experience. A better man would have complimented her on her zeal and ambition. It was worth a try. "Penny for your thoughts," he said.
Charlotte looked up as if caught. For a moment, he expected her to answer that she did not wish to court another tongue-lashing, but then she broke into a smile and said: "I was thinking about how it's only the big things that change in our world, but the basic emotions remain the same across the centuries. We can fly to the moon, and we can communicate with someone on the other side of the world using a shiny box the size of my hand, but our true instincts never change. Put a child with a shovel down by the seaside, and it will start to build a sandcastle, today just as two hundred years ago."
Sidney smiled. "Have you seen the pictures at the Sanditon museum?"
"Not yet. I have been saving that for a rainy day. – Clear off, Esther!" she added, directed at a seagull that came dangerously close to her sandwich.
"During the times of my ancestor, the first Thomas Parker, there was an annual summer event, the Sanditon Regatta. One of its highlights was the sandcastle competition."
"So Jenny and Alicia have it in their blood?"
"Seems like it," Sidney said.
"Was that the event the Prince Regent was expected for every year?"
"Exactly. Though I don't believe he was even aware of Sanditon's existence. I believe the rumour about his possible attendance was only spread to draw the crowds."
She was thinking about that. Then the expression on her face changed. Her eyes suddenly seemed to focus on something he could not see.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I need a pee," Henry said next to him.
When Sidney returned from his trip behind the dunes with Henry, he found Charlotte scribbling something in a notebook. She was not even looking up when he sat down next to her and gathered a tired Henry on his lap. "What is it?" he asked once more. She smiled at him.
"Something's just occurred to me. An idea."
x
Charlotte had not expected that her simple idea would spark such enthusiasm with Sidney Parker. Despite the children's protestations, he pushed towards a speedy departure. Everyone and everything was quickly dispatched into the van and returned to the hotel. Sidney handed his nephew and nieces over to Phillida Beaufort, who was on reception duty, made sure that Charlotte was still following him, and then walked into his brother's office.
Mr Parker was hunched behind his desk, looking decidedly unhappy. Maybe he had just read the guest review Charlotte had copied out for him, the one complaining about Esther never smiling and Julia checking her phone instead of arranging a bike hire for her guests. "Sidney," he said, then: "Charlotte? What is it?" – as if expecting another disaster. Sidney stepped aside, leaving the scene to Charlotte.
"Your trainee has had an idea, Tom. I'm not an expert in marketing matters, but I think it's a rather good one."
"Is it?" Mr Parker was blinking from his brother to Charlotte, who felt her heartbeat rise. Down at the beach, it had seemed such a good idea. Here in the office, she was not so sure about it. Maybe Mr Parker would think her presumptuous-
"Tell him just as you told me," Sidney said. Charlotte cleared her throat.
"Well, I… your brother told me about the Sanditon Regatta from two hundred years ago, and how it was meant to draw crowds to Sanditon. And I remembered what Lady Denham said yesterday about a reasonable scheme." Mr Parker visibly flinched at the mentioning of his business partner.
"You don't intend to re-invent the Sanditon Regatta?" he said. "For we already did, last year, with the celebration of two hundred years of Sanditon. It rained all day, the tent was blown away, and Arthur had to be saved from the river after stumbling over an oar."
Charlotte shook her head.
"No. I don't want that. But I was actually thinking about how to attract people. How to make the hotel accessible to everyone. How to make them fall in love with the place, just as I have, and make them become members of the golf club, and make them come for the view and a Strawberry Secret and…" She continued her explanation, and when she had finished, Mr Parker's whole body had gone wiry again, as if his batteries had been recharged. He jumped up from behind his desk, walked out of the office, crossed the lobby with large strides and rushed into the Conservatory, where his dear wife was having tea with Gigi, Mrs Griffiths, three sunburned, sandy children and baby Jamie perched on her lap.
"Mary! I have had the most glorious idea! An open-day at the Sanditon Grand Hotel!"
"An open-day?" Mary echoed as the guests on the other tables looked up from their plates.
"Can you not just picture it?" In case she couldn't, he drew the picture into the air. "A white castle afar from the world, gleaming in the sunshine as it sits perched high up on the clifftop, commanding singular views across the English Channel towards the distant shores of France … and now we will invite England to Sanditon. Can't you see it? Families from all over the south enjoying a wonderful day out on our grounds?"
"Positively inspired, my dear," Mary said, moving Jamie around as he had started throwing pea mush at Mrs Griffiths.
"It must be said that your trainee deserves some credit with the idea, Tom," Sidney said.
"Right," Mr Parker said. "We must give credit where credit is due, Charlotte: It was you who has prompted me to have the idea of an open-day." Sidney gave Charlotte an apologetic smile. She shrugged her shoulders: if that was all the accolade she was going to get, she was fine with it. As long as the day was a success. "You are fast becoming invaluable," Mr Parker continued, his body all in wiry motion again. "In all those years since I have taken over from our father, I believe I've never had a management trainee as capable as you are. – Now. Mary! Children! We are off to the beach."
"What? But they've only just returned from the beach!" Mary protested.
"No matter what, it's a beautiful day, and a beautiful day has to be celebrated. Gigi, Mrs Griffiths: you're joining us as well, of course. Where's Arthur? Sidney, go and call Arthur and Diana… I want a full family party."
It took some time until little Jamie had been handed over to Phillida, and everyone else gathered in the lobby, wearing the proper footwear and ready for another excursion to the beach. Mr Parker led the party down the path to the rocky shoreline underneath the cliff, calling Charlotte by his side, spinning plans and ideas for the open-day.
They were to have a sandcastle competition for the children (no, they were not, because this was about the hotel, not about Sanditon). They were to have a fishermen's boat race (no, they were not, because there were not that many fishermen left in Sanditon, and those who were had no time for such frivolities as a boat race). They were to have a rowing competition (no, certainly not, because the river was on the other side of the town).
Charlotte looked around for assistance, but there was none in sight: The children ran ahead of them towards the water, Mary and Mrs Griffiths were deep in conversation, Diana and Gigi helped Arthur navigate the steeper sections of the path, and Sidney, leaving more and more space between himself and the rest of the group, was busy talking on his phone.
Charlotte got her own phone out, for this was well worth a picture and a message to her family and maybe also a post on Instagram: the sun, standing low over the horizon, casting an orange light on the water as the tide went out. There were the vast Sanditon mudflats, a mysterious system of sandbars and shallow creeks, nearly deserted now, apart from oystercatchers and seagulls searching for prey in the silt.
"Ah!" Mr Parker exclaimed, scaring the birds away. "Now that is Sanditon for you! Where nature meets beauty and forms paradise! – Oh. That is a rather good one." He took out his phone and repeated the slogan to the voice recorder.
The children happily ran towards the first creek, and Diana took off her shoes, advising Arthur and Gigi to do the same, as the cold water and furrowed ground would work miracles on their blood circulations. Charlotte made a selfie, added it to the pictures she sent to her family group and wondered how to go back to life in a place far from the sea. But she would not have to find out before October, and now it was mid-May only… five more glorious months of Sanditon ahead of her.
Behind her, Sidney had finished his phone call and looked at her apologetically. "I'm sorry. Seems to be disrespectful to think about business in these surroundings, but some clients never sleep." Charlotte returned a non-committal smile. Her idea about his "business" was too vague to allow any judgement.
"I believe seabirds are a forgiving species," she said. He smiled back.
"I hope so. Though the herring gulls can be very aggressive. The locals will tell you horror stories about how a giant herring gull snatched a sandwich from a tourist or a kitten from its mother."
"I start to see why Esther dumped your friend Babington's gift into the bin." They had fallen into step together, crossing a sandbar and moving a little away from the rest of the group.
"Miss Heywood," he suddenly said. "May I ask a favour of you?"
"Of me?"
"Extraordinary as it might sound, I believe you are better positioned than almost anyone else." He stopped and looked across the mudflats towards the setting sun for a while before he continued. "That phone call was my sleepless Australian client. Seems as if I have to go to Sydney for a while."
"What? Sidney's going to Sydney?" The words were out of her mouth before she could think twice. "I'm sorry. That was a cheap pun."
"Though irresistible, I agree," he said.
"Yes." She gave him a shy side glance. Surely this was the moment to end the Miss-Heywood-Mr-Parker-nonsense and just call each other by their first names? But his intentions went into a different direction, as his next words confirmed.
"The favour I was going to ask you, Miss Heywood: Would you keep an eye on Gigi for me while I'm in Australia? See that she is kept out of mischief?" Charlotte did not answer immediately.
"You do see the irony of that request, don't you?" she finally said.
"I do," he admitted. "But I hope we can rewrite that part of our history. Don't you think? Admiral Heywood?"
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I think we can do that." She was feeling very solemn all of a sudden, an emotion only heightened by the sun now settling dramatically on the horizon, immersing them in magical orange light. Something had started during this walk across the mudflats, something substantial – even though for the moment, Charlotte was unable to name it.
Notes:
In the next chapter, Charlotte is going to receive "Mixed Messages".
