7 The Bridlington - Original Bedtime Tales Stephanie Poppins

The Bridlington Hotel is the most prestigious getaway on the coast of East Riding. Owned by the cantankerous Lady Perklington-Smythe, it is never far from scandal. But reception staff Emily, James, and Joe are professionals, and committed to keeping up appearances, come what may.

In this episode, Emily revisits her childhood home, where she gets a grilling from her mother. Meanwhile, Cetin is not getting the answers to the questions he has about Emily.

Written and performed by English author Stephanie Poppins.

Transcript

Hello and welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,

A romantic bedtime podcast guaranteed to help you drift off into a calm and restful sleep.

Come with me as we travel into the heart of the Bridlington Hotel,

The most prestigious enterprise on the coast of East Riding.

Meet the characters as they go about their everyday lives,

Albeit amongst scandal and intrigue.

Not a day goes past at the Bridlington without something happening.

But before we begin,

Let's take a moment to focus on where we are now.

Take a deep breath in through your nose.

That's it.

Then let it out on a long sigh.

It is time to relax and fully let go.

There is nothing you need to be doing and nowhere you need to go.

This is your time.

Feel your shoulders melt away from your ears.

Feel the pressure seep away from your cheeks.

And let all the muscles in your face relax.

As you sink into the support beneath you,

Let the pressures of the day seep away.

Happy listening.

The Bridlington A series set in an English hotel.

Written and performed by Stephanie Poppins.

Episode 7 With one swift glance,

Emily Croft,

As she now called herself,

Moved swiftly from grand window to grand window,

Tugging at the stubborn drawing room drapes.

It was mid-morning and her mother would be back from tennis any minute now.

She took in the scene,

Just the same old Mulberry Court.

But there was to be no escaping her mother's scrutiny this time.

Her favourite armchair was strategically placed so it faced the glare of the sun.

There would be no affectionate tete-a-tete,

Just an interrogation.

Ever since Emily had stumbled across her mother colluding with Constance Delaware in a dark corner of the Bridlington Hotel,

She'd been waiting to be summoned.

Now she knew,

And her mother knew she knew.

Lady Perklington Smythe was in on the extortion racket that had seen innocent staff robbed and Louis the Bellboy's assistant dragged away in cuffs.

And yet her mother would deny any wrongdoing until her last breath,

If that was what it took.

Typical.

Ah,

Emily.

And there she was,

A vision of guccine gold striding determinedly towards Emily,

The sheen on her tan stockings emphasising her best feature.

Her well-cut suit leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Business as usual then,

Said Emily to herself.

As the light dimmed,

Her mother draped herself across her favourite chaise longue and stared unashamedly at the only child she'd brought into the world.

She had never been a maternal being.

She had no use for needy emotional brats.

Emily was there to make her look good,

And she was doing a bad job of it.

Sit down.

Emily complied submissively,

And then the back and forth,

Back and forth began,

Until eventually,

Exhausted and in need of a stiff drink,

Emily would leave.

What is it with you and those pumps?

Her mother began.

Thanks to your father,

You weren't graced with my legs,

Emily.

You should wear high heels.

How many times have I told you that?

Emily tucked one shoe behind the other and sat upright.

Then she scanned her brain for anything she could use to keep this woman quiet.

It had been two weeks since her last update on hotel gossip,

And that had been about a month.

She had to think of something juicy this time.

Hmm.

Cunningham.

Yes,

He deserved a grilling.

What could she say about him that would throw him under the bus?

Emily looked around for inspiration.

Marbury Court was a hodgepodge of historic styles which appeared to work from the outside.

But inside,

Every room was still furnished in the rich brocade they inherited when they bought it.

Lady Perklington Smythe was a tight-fisted,

Cautious woman who never believed in updating for the sake of it.

If it could be cleaned,

Touched up,

Or painted,

That is what she would do.

No lining the pockets of the great unwashed if she could help.

When Emily's father was alive,

This had gone unnoticed.

But now,

Many years,

And many fashions later,

Marbury Court was looking tired and unloved.

If it wasn't for the Bridlington being beholden to its investors,

That would have gone much the same way.

Lady Perklington Smythe would happily have been the only woman in the world.

She would have been the only woman in the world.

Lady Perklington Smythe would happily have cut loose that ball and chain years ago.

But her husband made it very clear in his will that that was to be kept for their daughter's inheritance.

And inherited she would when she turned 30.

That was why she insisted on working there.

To keep an eye on things and make sure her mother didn't run it into the ground.

Damn that man,

Her mother must have said at least once every morning since the will was read.

This was justice enough,

And this was what kept Emily going through it all.

There must be something to inspire me,

She said to herself.

I've got to give mother something so she backs off.

Then catching sight of the freshly decanted whiskey,

She sat back comfortably for the ride.

So,

Her mother began.

You managed to prise yourself away from the front desk then.

You've become quite a little workaholic,

I hear.

Emily assented.

Yes,

Mother,

The Canadian ambassador's still here and he needs to be kept an eye on.

An eye on?

Lady Perklington Smythe glared at her daughter over the top of her Gucci glasses.

It's all we can do to keep him out of scandal,

Emily continued.

He likes the women and he likes a drink.

As long as he's paying for them,

I don't see the harm.

He is paying for them,

I trust.

Lady Perklington Smythe dropped the morning newspaper and gave the conversation her full attention.

This was money,

And money was important.

Canada's paying for them,

Emily smiled.

Well,

There you are then.

If he chooses to burn the candle at both ends,

Who are we to stop him?

We're no stranger to scandal at the Bridlington,

Are we?

And it keeps us in the papers.

Surprise,

Surprise,

Thought Emily.

It doesn't matter who gets caught in the crossfire as long as there's free advertising to be had.

Then suddenly her mother snapped.

Sit still,

Emily,

And don't even think about getting up.

I can't stand the way you hover.

It's disconcerting.

Parker,

Parker.

Emily sighed.

Her mother had noticed the drapes.

How annoying.

A short,

Stubby woman of about 45 shuffled in,

Wearing an ill-fitting maid's outfit,

With ugly,

Serviceable shoes.

The kind Emily would be made to wear at the Bridlington if her mother deemed fit to take an interest in anything other than the scam she had running.

I thought I asked you to open the curtains all the way.

I did,

Ma'am,

I'm sure I did,

Parker protested.

Then she dragged them back once more to reveal an unforgiving light that hit Emily with the force of a bullet.

Emily rubbed at her eyes,

Trying to prevent the sting she knew was coming.

But it was no use.

Here she was again in the spotlight.

We'll have a tray for tea,

Parker,

Now off you go.

And just like that,

Parker was gone again.

Back to the warm kitchen where she belonged.

Away from this austere room of reckoning.

And what is it I hear about you in this new concierge,

Emily?

Does he know who you are?

Emily's palms began to sweat.

No,

No one does.

Are you going to tell him?

No,

I'd rather have someone love me for me.

Love!

Well,

That's a first.

Can't wait to find out.

Love!

Well,

That's a first.

Convenience wears many costumes,

I suppose.

Never mind.

When he leaves,

You'll not have time to see him again with such a full schedule.

And I'm sure he'll be far too busy in his new role to even consider it.

Emily's armchair melted beneath her,

Sucking her in with it.

Leaves?

Yes,

Emily,

Leaves.

That's an appropriate workplace romance.

You of all people should know that.

Emily swallowed hard.

She was being threatened.

Her mother was telling her in no uncertain terms if she gave anything away to the police in their inquiries,

She would never see Jatin again.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to throw things at the mantelpiece mirror her mother spent so much time looking in.

But she didn't.

This was a game of manipulation and the only way to win was to counterattack.

If he goes,

So does Delaware.

Tame arm!

And there was Parker back again with the tray.

She placed it between them but Lady Perklington's smithe sat unmoved.

You can be mother.

Emily reached for the pot,

Clenching her teeth at the irony.

One lump or two,

She replied.

Two,

Dear,

And a dash of milk.

Then the newspaper rose once more whilst Emily sipped slowly on.

It had been a week since the Canadian ambassador arrived and James Brighton had never been as stressed.

Not only was he struggling to keep up with the constant demands of the ambassador's wife whilst shielding her from the ugly truth of her husband's nightly misdemeanors,

He was also,

With the help of Jatin,

Fending off the paparazzi who now made it their mission to cloak themselves in the most ridiculous of disguises in order to catch the ambassador at it.

A lady at leisure and an office clerk materialising each evening in the bar,

Apparently there to socialise but sitting for hours on end with just one drink to see them through.

I can't wait till that maniac leaves,

James moaned.

He's nothing but hard work.

He was propping himself up on the front desk,

Going through the latest pile his patience wearing thin.

James wished there was some way to stop local businesses touting their wares by dumping their brochures at reception when no one was looking.

But Jatin begged to differ.

Any of those he recommended gave him a tidy kickback.

Life was certainly good being a concierge.

Hopefully Emily will be back soon,

He replied.

Then you can get a break.

This is her second day off,

Isn't it?

And she never takes time off.

Where's she gone?

I can't get hold of her.

James paused.

He couldn't say Emily had been summoned to Mulberry Court for the weekend,

Could he?

She'd kill him.

So what could he say?

Health retreat,

Apparently,

He bluffed.

It's a fine condition she's got.

I'm sure she'll tell you all about it when she's feeling better.

Then catching Jatin's confused look,

James wished he said something else.

Sounds bad.

Jatin was fishing.

Now James would have to give him something else or he wouldn't stop.

Migraines.

She said she's suffered them for years.

She'll get rid of them.

She dashed off to one yesterday morning.

When Emily gets a migraine,

She always goes incommunicado.

He snatched a glance at Jatin,

Who had carried on browsing regardless.

He didn't know him well enough to read this expression.

What was he thinking?

Jatin,

Meanwhile,

Bit his tongue.

He wasn't born yesterday and he didn't appreciate being lied to either.

But perhaps there was something serious going on.

He'd have to get to the bottom of it later.

Yo,

You still alive then,

You two?

Where's Miss Never-Do-Wrong?

And all at once,

The sun came out and everything was OK again.

It was Jo,

Materialised from goodness only knew where.

You're a sight for sore eyes,

James beamed,

Eager for the distraction.

Good to see you,

Mate.

How you doing,

Me old mucker?

Jo replied.

You alright,

Jatin?

Yes,

Jatin smiled.

But you're taking a chance,

Aren't you?

You know me,

Jo joked,

Can't resist an opportunity and I come with an offer you can't refuse.

Hitler busy,

Is he?

Yes,

Said James,

Necking our best whiskey in his office,

No doubt,

In preparation for tonight's powwow when he'll be sucking up to the Canadian Ambassador at his reception.

It'll be free champagne and caviar all round on his last night,

Right up Cunningham Street.

Funny that,

Said Jo.

That's just what I wanted to talk to you about.

James and Jatin smiled simultaneously.

This was a far cry from the depressed,

Jobless Jo of days gone past.

What's that you've got in your bag?

Asked James.

Funny you should ask,

Said Jo.

And they crept out to the back stairs while Jatin covered reception.

I miss this place,

Said Jo,

Even if they did have me over.

But never mind,

With my new venture you'll be seeing a lot more of me.

Their eyes met and James was relieved to realise a new man.

You look different,

Jo.

Nice clothes,

Shoes,

Even a new haircut.

What's going on?

They both laughed at this.

James had always teased Jo about his unruly hair.

It was the nature of the beast,

Jo said,

Having tight curls and all.

But James never really bought into that.

I'm a different man now,

Jo boasted.

What doesn't kill you and all that?

Have you got a new job?

Asked James.

Of sorts,

He answered.

Of a new income and that amounts to much the same thing.

Right.

James smiled wryly.

Still the same old Jo.

OK,

So here's the thing,

Jo began,

Opening his bag and pulling out a little black pot with a shiny gold lid on it.

I've been in touch with the suppliers of the most exclusive caviar in the world,

He said.

Now usually I go straight to the horse's mouth,

But chef being the way he is and you being the demigod you are,

I can see where this is going,

James smirked.

It's another level,

Pressed Jo.

You've got to try it.

Here,

Have a taste.

James looked at the jar.

The thick glass had been embellished with fine italic lettering.

Polish caviar.

Nice,

He gushed.

And he accepted a fine water biscuit.

It definitely looks the part.

James Brighton had nothing if not expensive tastes.

Working on five-star cruise ships would have suited that to you.

And prime caviar sounded just the treat he could warm to on a long weekend at work.

Jo ladled a generous portion onto the biscuit with a small silver spoon.

He'd practised this over and over,

James could tell,

And he respected him for it.

Every man should know his craft,

He thought,

And Jo's craft was selling.

Be it fine wine,

Caviar,

Or cut-priced tickets to the zoo.

Jo lived and breathed the product while it was in his hands.

Wow,

That's good,

Said James.

How much are you charging?

Half of what Chef pays now.

James pictured Chef's eyes light up,

And he became excited at the prospect.

Nice,

He exclaimed for the second time.

How long do you need?

Said Jo,

Keen to get things moving.

Ten minutes tops,

Said James.

Only this time,

I'll let the caviar do the talking.

And taking a pop from Jo,

He disappeared,

Whilst Jo left to hide in the gents,

Far away from Cunningham's eager eyes.

It was Sunday night,

Not usually a busy time at the Braddington Bar,

But Ambassador Wade was still around,

So tonight was an exception.

Dakota Jo,

The bar manager,

Was checking her stock as her staff dished out gin,

Like it was on supermarket special,

Not imported from an exclusive distillery set deep in the heart of the Scottish Highlands.

With a short pixie cut and a temper to match,

She was the perfect person to work in a neon bar that never saw the light of day.

Her dark,

Seductive makeup screamed I'd take no nonsense,

But it seemed Ambassador Wade hadn't got the memo.

Emily and James sat together at the bar,

Watching in disbelief as he downed shot after shot,

Together with two very demanding,

Very drunk women.

So far,

Dakota appeared to have things under control,

But it was only a matter of time before security would be called,

Much to the delight of the lone gentleman sitting in the corner,

Propping his phone up on his pint.

Someone's been refilling my Chateau Rothschild with a cheap German plonk.

Dakota spat suddenly.

I'm straight to Cunningham if I don't get answers.

James set his poker face to high alert.

Champagne was yet another of his expensive tastes.

Not heard a thing this end,

He commented,

But the night staff say there's been a marked uptake in the use of the honesty bar in the early hours.

We've only got standard plonk in the honesty bar,

Dakota replied,

Unless access to the chiller was given by the night staff.

James knew he was taking a big risk,

Blaming it on the night staff,

But they came and went like the number 37.

No one remained long on the graveyard shift at the Bridlington,

And even if they did,

They were seldom sober enough to register what was going on,

Or remember it the next day.

Perks of the job.

James whispered to Emily when Dakota left to go and check,

And Emily smiled.

She couldn't blame him.

He'd been working doubles all weekend,

And night shifts with the ambassador in tow were enough to drive anyone to drink.

Hard as nails,

That one,

Snarked James about Dakota.

She has to be,

Replied Emily sympathetically.

Would you be on the bar?

Well,

The tips are good.

Yes,

There's that,

But the hours were as long as anyone wants to keep drinking.

At least we know when our shift's over.

Or not,

As the case may be.

Thanks for covering me,

James.

Jatin's not stupid,

James replied.

He's going to find out who you are sooner or later,

So you might as well tell him before you're in out of your depth.

But it'll ruin everything,

And I really like him.

You're beautiful,

And you're rich.

I don't think it'll ruin anything,

James snarked.

You're a good catch,

Emily Croft,

Even if that isn't your real name.

Shh,

Said Emily,

Noticing the reporter standing a little too close for comfort.

Let's get a table.

They got up and moved to a secluded corner,

Whilst in an unexpected turn,

The ambassador left both the bar and the women.

The lone reporter,

Hot on his tail.

I want Jatin to like me for me,

Emily continued.

But James wasn't in the mood to beat around the bush.

Stop playing the inverted snobbery card.

It's starting to fray at the corners.

You've got to tell him it's as simple as that.

If he finds out before,

It's not going to play out well for you,

Em.

Jatin's old school.

He's no nonsense,

And he expects the same back.

Don't mess this up.

He's one of the good guys.

Emily started.

She hadn't expected this,

But it was what she needed.

All her life she'd been surrounded by yes-men.

It was nice to have honesty for a change,

Even if it wasn't what she wanted to hear.

But every person that knows is one more person who could let it slip,

She persisted.

Being incognito has given me an honest look at exactly what goes on here.

I don't want the staff to sneak around behind my back.

Believe it or not,

It's only a year until I inherit.

What?

Yes,

That's why I want to stay here.

And if this place is going to keep going until then without my mum running it into the ground,

I've got to be around.

Your mum?

What's she done now?

Emily put her drink down.

Should she say?

This was James and she did trust him,

But was that the drink talking?

Let's just say she's not as green as I am.

Right.

James looked disappointed.

James,

I understand family and all that,

He said.

Emily took another sip.

No,

You don't.

I'm sorry.

You are my family,

You and Jo.

And with any luck,

J-Tin,

But this is bad,

Even for her.

Don't tell me,

Said James dramatically.

She's in leagues with the old hag,

Delaware.

Emily shook her head in disbelief.

Does anything escape you,

James Brighton?

Not much,

James smiled,

And he put his arm around her.

I got your back,

Em,

And you've got mine,

And that's the way it's always going to be.

And we've both got Jo's.

He's just a baby compared to us,

So let's keep an eye on him.

And as for the police inquiry,

Deny,

Deny,

Deny,

That's all we can do.

It's up to them to get on with it in any way they see fit.

Emily agreed.

Okay,

You're right.

And how was Jo?

Did he seem okay?

Better than ever,

Said James.

Although I'm not sure about this new caviar thing.

He's still seeing Bianca,

And rumour has it she knows some dodgy people,

If you know what I mean.

This is Polish caviar,

And it's definitely well connected.

Nothing new there,

Then,

Said Emily.

This is different,

James insisted.

If I'm right,

This is Polish Mafia we're talking about.

They run the amusement arcades and clubs down on the front,

And probably a lot more.

They're big trouble if you get on the wrong side of them.

But Jo's always done dodgy stuff.

Not like this he hasn't.

This is another level.

He's selling caviar now,

But next it'll be something worse.

We're going to need to keep an eye on him,

And Bianca.

She may have fooled Jo,

But she does not fool me.

Emily looked concerned.

And there's only so much we can expose the Bridlington to,

James continued,

Without getting caught up in it ourselves.

It's a fine line we've got to walk,

But we'll have no choice.

Jo needs to make a living,

And we need to support him without getting in too deep.

You're right,

Said Emily.

And taking another sip from her pink drink,

She began to realise running a hotel was a lot more complicated than she ever imagined it would be.

Then all at once,

Dakota returned,

But this time moaning about an audit she now had to do for the whisky.

This place is full of thieves,

She spat.

I've just about had it up to here.

Emily smiled secretly to herself.

Great,

She thought.

At last,

I'll get that Cunningham if that's the last thing I do.

She's a bit of a ball-breaker,

That one,

Isn't she?

Said James,

When at last Dakota was out of earshot.

I'm not sure I like her.

Her staff can't stand her either.

But then that's the job,

Isn't it?

Yes,

Said Emily,

And she does it well.

You'd better ease off on your exploits,

James,

And use more of your God-given charm than relying on free booze and chocolates.

James sniggered.

I suppose so.

I've got a bit lazy of late.

It's all that effort I'm putting into chef.

Anything else has got to be easier or it's not worth pursuing.

How about abstinence?

Choked Emily.

Their eyes met and they burst out laughing.

James would be a thrill-seeker until the day he died.

That's just the way he was.

And here he is,

He declared suddenly,

As J.

Tin appeared.

The man with the plan.

Emily,

Acting acknowledged,

As Emily waved excitedly at him.

It's now or never,

Whispered James,

And Emily kicked him under the table.

Then he left,

But not before catching Dakota's eyes all over her man.

I knew there was something I didn't like about her,

James said to himself.

If it's not one thing,

It's another.

But then this is the Bridlington.

What can I expect?

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