it, yes. On the other hand, I must consider the costs, and more than ever, this time around. Agnes can’t put up any more of her own money, so she won’t be involved in the purchase of the manor or the cost of its remodeling. And the same applies to Patsy in England, she can’t offer any financial help either. I have to raise the money myself. And I will. Agnes and Patsy are somewhat relieved that I’ll be taking care of the financing, but, more so than ever, I will have to keep a tight rein on the two of them when it comes to the remodeling.”
“Are you sure you want to go ahead with the new inns in Europe?” Amy asked. Until that moment she had not realized that Meredith would be doing all the financing, and she detected a degree of worry in her voice.
“Oh yes, I do want to buy them. We have to acquire additional inns in order to expand properly. Not that I want the company to become too big. I think six hotels is enough, Amy, certainly that number’s just about right for me, easy to manage, as long as Agnes is running the French end and Patsy the English.”
“Six,” Amy repeated, eyeing Meredith quizzically. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
Meredith looked baffled. “I’m not following you.”
“You said six inns are easy to manage, but with the two new ones in Europe you’ll actually own seven, if you count the three here. Are you thinking of selling off one of the American hostelries?”
“I have been toying with the idea,” Meredith admitted.
“Silver Lake Inn would bring in the most money,” Amy remarked. “After all, it’s the most successful of the three.”
Meredith stared at Amy.
Suddenly she felt the same tight pain in her chest that she had the week before, when Henry Raphaelson, her friendly private banker, had uttered the same words over lunch at ‘21’.
“I could never sell Silver Lake,” Meredith answered at last, repeating what she had said to Henry.
“I know what you mean.”
No, you don’t, Meredith thought, but she remained silent. She simply inclined her head, lowered her eyes, stared at the financial breakdown, the costs of remodeling the manor in Montfort-L’Amaury, but not really concentrating on the figures.
She was thinking of Silver Lake Inn. No one really knew what it meant to her, not even her daughter and her son, who had both been born there. Silver Lake had always been her haven, the first safe haven she had known, and the first real home she had ever had. And Jack and Amelia Silver, the owners, had been the first people who had ever shown her any kindness in her entire life. They had loved and cherished her like a younger sister, nurtured her, brought out her potential—encouraged her talent, helped her to hone her business acumen, applauded her style. And from them she had learned about decency and kindness, dignity and courage.
Jack and Amelia. The only family she had ever had. For a moment she saw them both very clearly in her mind’s eye. They were the first human beings she had ever loved. There had been no one to love before them. Except Spin, the little dog, and even she had been taken away from her just when they had become attached to each other.
Silver Lake was part of her very being, part of her soul. She knew she could never, would never, sell it whatever the circumstances.
Meredith took a deep breath and eventually the pain in her chest began to subside. Lifting her eyes, focusing on Amy, she remarked almost casually, “I might have a buyer for Hilltops. That’s why I’ve decided to go up to Connecticut tonight.”
Amy was surprised, but she merely nodded. “What about Fern Spindle? Don’t you think you’d get more for the Vermont inn than for Hilltops?”
“It’s certainly a much more valuable property, Amy, that’s true, valued in the many millions. But someone has to want it, has to want to buy. Only then does it become viable to me.”
Amy nodded.
Meredith went on. “Blanche knows I’m coming up tonight. I’m staying at Silver Lake, there’s no point in having her open up the house for one night. Jonas will stay over and drive me up to Sharon tomorrow morning, to meet the potential buyers. After the meeting at Hilltops I’ll come straight back to the city, and I’ll leave for London on Saturday as planned.”
Meredith picked up a manila folder and handed it to Amy. “Here’re my letters, all signed, and a bunch of checks for Lois.” Leaning back in her chair, she finished with, “Well, I guess that’s it.”
“No…you have e-mail, Meredith.”
Meredith swung around to face her computer on the narrow table behind her chair, peered at the screen.
Thurs. Jan 5 1995
Hi Mom:
Thanks for check. Helps. Have a fab trip. Go get ’em. Bring back the bacon. Luv ya loads.
JON
“Well, well, doesn’t he have a way with words,” Meredith said pithily, shaking her head. But she was smiling inwardly, thinking of her twenty-one-year-old son, Jonathan, who had always had the ability to amuse her. He had turned out well. Just as his sister had. She was lucky in that respect.
Left alone in her office, Meredith studied the figures from her French partner. She thought they seemed a bit on the high side, and reminded herself that Agnes was not always as practical as she should be when it came to refurbishing. It might be possible to shave them a bit, she decided.
Agnes D’Auberville and she had been involved in business together for the past eight years, and their partnership had been a successful one. They got on well and balanced each other, and Agnes’s flair for marketing had helped to put the inns on the map. With her long scarves and trailing skirts she was bohemian but stylish.
Agnes ran the Paris office of Havens Incorporated and oversaw the management of the château-hotel they jointly owned in the Loire Valley. She was unable to participate financially in the acquisition of the manor house in Montfort-L’Amaury, although she was eager that they buy it. “You won’t regret it, Meredith, it’s a good investment for the company,” Agnes had said to her during their phone conversation earlier that day.
Meredith knew that this was true. She also knew that a charming inn, situated only forty-eight kilometers from Paris, and within easy striking distance of Versailles and the forest of Rambouillet was bound to be a moneymaker, especially if it had a good restaurant.
According to Agnes, she had already lined up a well-known chef, as well as a distinguished architect who would properly redesign the manor house, help to turn it into a comfortable inn.
As for Patsy Canton, her English partner who had come on board ten years earlier, the story was a little different in one respect. Patsy had fallen upon two existing inns for sale and quite by accident. She believed them to be real finds.
One was in Keswick, the famous beauty spot in the Lake District in Cumbria; the other was in the Yorkshire dales near the cathedral towns of York and Ripon. Both were popular places with foreign visitors. Again, such an inn, with its good reputation already established, would more than earn its keep.
Unfortunately, Patsy had the same dilemma as Agnes. She was unable to put up any more
