All Change at the Beach Hotel
Can she choose between her duty and her heart?
While World War One changes the country beyond measure, with food becoming scarce and Britain’s young men being called up to foreign battlefields, it is harder than ever to keep the grand Beach Hotel in Littlehampton running smoothly.
Waitress Lili Probert, a young woman who escaped her demanding family in Wales in search of a new life in Sussex, has seen her hard work rewarded at the Beach Hotel, but hides heartbreak behind her sunny personality. Her sweetheart, Norman, is missing in action and has been presumed dead, but she cannot give up hope that he may be found.
But when she meets injured soldier Rhodri, a fellow Welshman now living near Littlehampton, she fights hard to ignore her growing attraction for him, torn between her feelings for him and her loyalty to the man she thought she’d spend her life with.
But her emotions run ever higher when she suddenly receives a call from home; her mother is gravely ill and Lili is needed for her care. Returning to Wales, Lili must make a difficult choice. Follow her dreams and make her own life, or return to the place she tried so hard to escape?
Torn between her duty and her heart, Lili faces her own battle far from the conflicts in Europe…
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Extract from All Change at the Beach Hotel by Francesca Capaldi
Lili, originally a chambermaid in the Beach Hotel, has recently been made a waitress, what with all the men going off to war. Today, she feels even more privileged to be ‘sort of’ in charge on the front desk. But things don’t quite work out as she’d hoped…
The front entrance opened and Lili looked over to see Gertie struggling in with two cases, in a plume of smoke. She was trying not to cough, judging by the expression on her face.
Behind her was a woman who looked in her early thirties, dressed in a burgundy high-waisted linen dress with elbow-length sleeves and turnback cuffs. The skirt had a long loose hanging tunic, divided in front, which was embroidered. How Lili would love such a dress. The woman’s dark-brown wavy hair was gathered in a coil at the back and around her head was a silk band with pink flowers. A cigarette, in a holder, was held elegantly between her fore and middle fingers.
Mrs Lolita Carmichael, if she wasn’t mistaken. She’d stayed for a month a couple of years back with her parents, though she’d been Miss Foster then. Mrs Bygrove had mentioned that she’d booked a stay, though Lili hadn’t realised she’d be turning up while she was on the desk.
‘Come along, girl. Either move more quickly or get out of the way.’ She knocked into Gertie as she passed her, causing the portress to stumble a little.
At the desk, the woman stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and placed the end in it. She took another from her handbag to replace it in the holder.
‘Damn it, I seem to have misplaced my lighter. You, girl –’ She pointed at Gertie. ‘Retrace our steps and find it. I hope I didn’t drop it in the horse bus.’
‘Yes, Mrs Carmichael,’ Gertie replied politely, though Lili could tell she was annoyed. She left the cases by the desk and hurried outside.
Lili didn’t blame her for being irritated. As Stanley, who was a porter, had put it, last time she’d stayed she’d been a bit of a pain in the… neck came to mind, though it wasn’t what Stanley had said. He’d got a right telling off from the housekeeper, Mrs Leggett, for saying it in front of the female staff at supper a few evenings back.
‘Good morning. I’m Mrs Lolita Carmichael,’ she said this with a flourish, as if the name was immensely significant. ‘Since neither the usual desk clerks nor the manager appear to be here, I suppose you will have to accommodate me. I hope you’re up to it. I need to be reminded of the mealtimes and any other information I need to know.’ She peered at Lili more closely. ‘Good gracious, weren’t you a chambermaid when I was here last?’
She was amazed Mrs Carmichael remembered her at all, though not pleased with the implication that such a person was beneath her contempt. ‘Yes, madam. There’s a war on and most of the men have enlisted. I’m afraid the usual desk clerks are off duty and Mr and Mrs Bygrove are out.’
The woman pointed and looked down at Lili. ‘I beg your pardon? I can’t understand a word you’re saying. Where on earth are you from?’
‘Wales, madam. The Rhymney Valley.’
‘Wales, was that? Well, no wonder. I don’t know why people can’t all speak the King’s English, instead of all these silly accents.’
Had Lily not spoken to her when she was here last? Possibly not, since she’d simply been cleaning the rooms. And she’d put on her more ‘proper’ accent, as Mrs Leggett referred to it. They all had to when serving the public. Lili felt the indignation growing. It wasn’t the first time she’d encountered such prejudice against her accent and place of birth, but for now she’d have to swallow the irritation and get on with the job.
She opened the register in front of her. ‘Here we are. Room 208 on the second floor. Lovely view of the sea. If you’d like to take a seat, Gertrude will take you there when she returns.’
‘What's that?’ Mrs Carmichael put a hand up to her ear. ‘Speak more clearly, will you?’
‘I said,’ she started more slowly, ‘if… you’d… like… to —’
‘No, it’s no good. You’ll have to get someone else to attend me. One of the usual receptionists.’
‘Neither are here.’
‘Or the manager, or his wife.’
‘As I said, they’re not here either.’
‘Well then, whomever is in charge, you insolent girl.’
She understood that then. Lili couldn’t see what was insolent about her replies, but if she didn’t get out of Mrs Carmichael’s presence soon, she’d be severely tempted to give her a piece of her— Gertie! Thank goodness she’d returned.
‘I found your lighter, madam. It was on—’
The woman snatched the offered item. ‘About time.’
‘Gertrude, would you fetch Mrs Leggett please?’ Mrs Carmichael surely couldn’t object to the housekeeper’s middle-class accent.
‘Why?’
Lili widened her eyes in appeal. ‘Please.’
Gertie nodded and headed off.
‘One moment, madam.’
‘I’d better not be kept waiting.’ She sauntered elegantly over to one of the Sheraton chairs by the wall, lighting her cigarette and crossing her legs once she’d sat down.
It was strange how Mrs Carmichael seemed to understand her when it suited. More likely she was enjoying having something to be superior about.
After a couple of minutes, Gertie returned, not with Imogen Leggett but with Bridget Turnbull, the storekeeper.
‘What’s the problem, pet?’ she said in her Tyneside accent.
‘Where’s Mrs Leggett?’
‘She said she were busy and sent me.’
By this time, Mrs Carmichael had stood up and was returning to the desk. Lili, guessing what was coming, felt like laughing. It wasn’t really funny, but by the time she related it to Edie, hopefully it would be.
Francesca has enjoyed writing since she was a child. Born in Worthing and brought up in Littlehampton in Sussex, she was largely influenced by a Welsh mother who was brilliant at improvised story telling. A history graduate and qualified teacher, she decided to turn her writing hobby into something more in 2006, when she joined a writing class.
Writing as both Francesca Capaldi and Francesca Burgess, she has had many short stories published in magazines in the UK and abroad, along with several pocket novels published by DC Thomson.
Her Welsh World War 1 sagas were inspired by the discovery of the war record of her great grandfather, a miner in South Wales. Her latest series, The Beach Hotel, is set in her own childhood town, where her Italian father had a café on the riverside.
Francesca is a member of the Romantic Novelists' Association and the Society of Women Writers and Journalists. She currently lives on the North Downs in Kent with her family and a cat called Lando Calrission.
