The start of my novel. Working title - Fay Dobson

Chapter 1

 The last stroke.  A second of silence then HAPPY NEW YEAR.    HAPPY 1999.

The people around me were kissing, toasting, shaking hands and smiling.  I turned to the barman and we wished each other a happy New Year but there was no joy in our greetings.  Then the band picked up their instruments and started to play.  People put their glasses back on the tables, hands were grabbed and Mr Barlow pulled at my arm.  I tried to protest but found myself pulled into the ring singing Old Lang Sang.  My arms were being plumbed up and down to the music but despite all the merriment I could not forget that this was the last time I would be here. But I was here now and my job was to make others happy so I stuck a smile on my face and raised my voice.  Thank goodness everything had gone well and I had not let Mr Evens Snr down.

   The music ended, people returned to their tables to finish their drinks and let their excitement calm down.  In the background the band played softly and I stood near the door to wish the guests goodnight as they drifted off to bed.  A few of the locals moved to sit together near the bar and I quietly reminded the barman that he was to close at twelve thirty.  As the tables emptied they were cleared at top speed by the rest of the staff.  I went round wishing them a happy New Year and telling them they could leave as soon as they were finished.  I didn’t mention the party I knew they had planned.  As Mr Evens assistant I was not invited but I was in no mood for a party anyway.  I could hear the band was finishing their last number so I went over to speak to them.

  ‘Well Sid they all seemed to have enjoyed the evening.’

   ‘Yes,’ replied the man, ‘but it’s the end of an era.  You know Mr Evans Srn would be turning in his grave if he could see what they plan to do to the old Carlton Hotel.’

   I stood staring at the empty dance floor which only a while ago had been filled with happy, laughing people and tried not to think of the changes that were coming.  Instead I asked, ‘What are you and the others going to do now?’

   ‘The missus wants me to retire.  Says I am far too old to keep up the travelling and the late nights but I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.  The boys and I have decided we’ll cut down on the gigs and just do two or three a month to keep our hands in.’

   I looked at the boys and smiled.  There wasn’t one of them who wasn’t entitled to draw their old age pension.

   ‘And what about you?’ he asked, ‘will you stay on and still work here once the renovations have been done?’

    ‘No.’ I replied, ‘I was told, ever so politely, that I didn’t fit into the new hotel image so they offered me the choice between becoming a chambermaid or a redundancy package’

   ‘But that’s daft.  You know more about the Carlton than anybody.’

   ‘True but you see it won’t be our Carlton when they’ve finished.  It will be a modern boutique hotel.’

   ‘And what’s one of them when it’s at home?’

   ‘Not entirely sure but you can bet it’ll cost a lot more to stay here.’

   ‘You ready Sid?’ asked one of the musician.

   ‘Yes just coming.’’  He turned towards me and said, ‘Well good luck and I hope things go well for you.’

    ‘Thanks Sid.’  I wanted to say more but was afraid he might see my tears and that would never do.