hair, then gave it a light spray to ensure it stayed in immaculate place.
Natasha clipped on her name badge and checked her nails before heading out to start her shift. She was greeted by Mark - who was seriously jealous and upset that Natasha had been promoted rather than him. ‘It’s only you on the desk tonight,’ Mark warned. ‘Vivien called in sick.’
‘That’s fine,’ Natasha said, checking the computer and seeing that they had a few prominent guests outstanding. ‘The Belmont party haven’t checked in.’
‘Not yet.’
Natasha glanced up at the clock. The Belmonts had arranged for a small celebration to be held in the bar for one of their party’s fiftieth birthday and they had been extremely specific about the food that they wanted served and the timing of things.
‘Apart from that it should be pretty quiet,’ Mark said.
‘You’ve just jinxed me,’ Natasha smiled but it wasn’t returned.
‘Oh, I’m sure that there’s nothing you can’t handle, Natasha.’
She heard the tart edge to his voice but chose to ignore it. Natasha really liked Mark, he was incredibly bitchy and funny but so good at his job that Natasha could well understand why he was upset at being overlooked, especially as he had worked there for longer.
Mark was right though, Natasha thought as she checked with housekeeping that the rooms were ready for the late check-ins, there really wasn’t much that she couldn’t handle at Chatsfield. Whatever presented she just dealt with the dramas and problems in her usual efficient way and her emotions stayed well in check. Possibly, Natasha conceded, because she wasn’t in love with her job.
Yes, she liked her work, from interacting with the guests to the glamour of the place, but there was something missing and Natasha was actually scared to find out what it was.
‘We can’t afford it,’ had been Dion’s response when Natasha had broached returning to study, though not in hospitality. ‘Anyway, it’s a moot point given that you don’t even know what it is you want to do.’
His less than helpful attitude had made Dion another moot point and she’d got rid of the boyfriend who was holding her back but now, more than ever, with only her wage to make the rent, Natasha really couldn’t afford it.
Whatever it was.
‘Natasha.’ James the concierge who was on tonight came over. ‘There’s been a train crash…’
‘Oh no.’
‘There are delays getting to and from Heathrow.’
That was the part that mattered here at the Chatsfield. Here the guests left their problems at the door and it was the staff that dealt with the details.
Natasha flicked on the television in the small lounge behind reception and saw the unfolding news and, yes, the traffic was gridlocked. She rang through to Daniel the bar manager and explained the likely reason why the Belmont party were late.
‘Thanks for that, Natasha’ Daniel said. ‘I’ll let the kitchen know.’
The late guests eventually arrived, grumpy and tired after a long flight and delays getting from Heathrow.
‘There’s been a train crash,’ Mr Belmont told her.
‘I heard,’ Natasha said, swiftly checking them in, and they were soon soothed by the efficient Natasha telling them that their rooms were ready, and when Mr Belmont pulled her aside to check on the plans for his wife’s birthday treat, she was able to tell him that their table was waiting at the bar and the kitchen knew they had been delayed.
As they left the phone rang and it was Gene Chatsfield, who had guests arriving on an early flight and had just seen the news.
‘We’re keeping a close eye on things, Mr Chatsfield,’ Natasha assured him. ‘We’ll make sure they get here. There’s a helicopter booked now. I’ll call you at 6am as arranged and let you know what’s happening.’
Natasha made a note to herself to do just that and then looked up and smiled as a heavily pregnant woman walked into the foyer.
‘Can I help you?’
‘Please…’ the woman said.
Natasha wasn’t smiling a second later as the woman clutched her stomach and groaned in pain.
‘Oh!’ Natasha moved rapidly from behind the desk and went to see if she could help, perhaps to guide the woman to a seat, but Natasha’s approach briefly halted when the woman’s waters suddenly broke.
Natasha glanced over to James, who was already reaching for the phone to summon a maid to take care of the puddle - heaven forbid anyone slip!
‘Please…’ the woman said again.
‘It’s ok,’ Natasha attempted to reassure her, while taking the woman’s arm and trying to steer her out of the reception area and to the small lounge while she worked out who to call for her. ‘Are you a guest here?’
‘Please…’
‘Is there anyone I can call for you?’ Natasha asked.
‘Please,’ the woman begged and it dawned on Natasha that she didn’t speak English.
‘I’ll keep an eye on reception,’ James lips twitched as Natasha opened to lounge room door. ‘Take your time!’
Natasha was, as always, calm. There had been a couple of guests who had gone into labour during her time at the Chatsfield and medical emergencies were a fairly regular occurrence which she was used to dealing with – summoning help, while ensuring the other guests stay remained undisrupted.
‘My name’s Natasha…’ she pointed to her badge. ‘Na-tash-a.’
‘Maya!’
‘Maya!’ Natasha smiled in relief that they’d managed to at least introduce themselves. ‘Are you a guest?’
She didn’t get an answer, the poor woman folded over as another contraction hit.
‘Shall I call you an ambulance?’ Natasha asked but the woman didn’t answer, instead she pulled a face and made a grunting noise.
An ambulance, Natasha decided!
She called the emergency number and it took ages to get through but once she had Natasha explained what was going on and gave the few details that she had. ‘Her waters have broken and she’s having contractions.’
‘How far apart are they?’
‘Sorry?’ Natasha said. ‘Oh, I’m not sure, she had one when she arrived and another just before.’
‘Roughly how far apart?’
‘Five, maybe six minutes,’ Natasha said. ‘Maybe less.’
‘Is there any other way you can get her to hospital,’
