100 Dates Princess

Bad Day For Parents

All the way down my mind was running all the different senarios of what has happened to my parents and their beloved guest house.

I was born and raised in that house I had many adventures when I was growing up, swimming in the harbour on chesil beach, where it was more like a giant swimming pool as you could paddle out a long way without it getting any deeper, playing and climbing on the rocks at Church Ope Cove and oh yes the lighthouse and climbing pulpit rock before health and safety came along and put a stop to it.

And when things got to bad after I had left to make my own way in the world or I wanted a break, Seaview Guest House in Weston was my go to place, back to the Bossom of my family and they always made me welcome and chased the blues away, fond memories.

Yes my true home, the sole reason I was in Oxfordshire was to study and then one day, return home clutching my degree in accountancy, ready to repay my parents for all their help and faith in me and now it was all gone, causing the tears to well up in my eyes yet again.

Zipping along chesil beach and climbing up the face of Portland Bill through Fortuneswell, down Wide Street, Weston Road and and into Weston.

And past the remains of Sea View Guest House an empty blackened and charred shell of my home, as I continued to fight back my tears I pulled up outside Golden Sands owned by Mr and Mrs Crestwell family friends and now temporary home for my parents.

I quickly parked the car and leapt out, the urge to see my parents and hug them was so great, I left my luggage in the boot, I could fetch that later.

As I almost ran up the path reaching the bottom step just as the front door opened and my father stepped out arms wide and a big grin on his face.

"Charity" that was all I needed to hear him say as I threw myself into his arms that closed around me pulling me into a father, daughter hug.

"Oh daddy" I cried, tears of relief, joy and happiness streaming down my cheeks.

After a few minutes sobbing into his chest, I managed to compose myself, I needed to be calm and tear free to meet my mother else we both would cry the rest of the day and night.

Father ushered me quickly inside and up the stairs to the small double bedroom that looked out the back over open fields, with the wild grey sea on the horizon and there sat mother pouring tea into three China cups from an old chipped teapot.

"Hello my dear" she greeted in a small unsteady voice, I could tell she was finding hard to hold herself together as the teapot shook in her hands spilling tea on the tray.

"Hello mother" I replied, plastering a huge smile on my face and in the brightest voice I could muster.

"Pull up a chair dear and help yourself, biscuits are over there on the sideboard if you would like one.

"No that fine mother I ate before I left and picked up a take away on whilst coming here" a small lie.

We sat and chatted about everything, well everything that didn't involve the guest house, though there was no laughter or joking around like we would normally behaved when I visited, though we still managed to fill each other in on our lives prior to the day of the fire.

"Well dear what's this about you and a prince, I hear"

Good old mother not one to beat about the bush, go straight for the jugular.

"Oh that, nothing we had a few dates and that's it really"
Hoping that would quell their curiosity, no such luck though.

"But I read in the papers that you and the prince were officially boyfriend and girlfriend, is that not true?"

" It was true mother, but things didn't work out so we er sort of split up" by now I was the one choking back the tears as I was reminded of Alex.

"I see" thankfully she realised it was a subject I was not to comfortable with and let it drop.

I spent the rest of the week helping with all the paperwork and phone calls that needed to be made regarding the fire, I had presented the money the girls had given me to dad when mum was in the bath and though he protested vigorously, he took it when I said if he wanted to return it he could face the girls and tell them.

The biggest shock came when we were informed that the level of insurance fell short of what was required, there was enough buildings cover to rebuild the guest house, but the contents insurance was woefully short.

So as far as refurnishing the guest house they wouldn't be able to afford to do it, as reopening it was not a possibility because of the amount of money required that they just didn't have, in fact they would have to sell the newly built guest house just to pay off outstanding debts and that would leave them homeless and unemployed.

This bought on a bout of tears from my mother that took the combined efforts of my father and me to quell.

As the week drew to a close I knew I had to leave as I need to return Tina's car and I desperately needed to find a job to help my parents out, though they argued vehemently with me, but I held my ground.

On my final day which was the Saturday as I needed to get home and see if I could salvage my jobs in the pub and Blenheim View, we braved the bitter wind that blew across Portland Bill and had a nostalgic visit to some of my favourite old haunts.

We called in the lighthouse gift shop after our trip to the top and I bought a few trinkets for the girls as a thank you.

All to soon it was time for me to pack my bags and return to Woodstock, it was a tearful farewell, with me promising to visit more frequently and them promising to let me know if they need help.

As I waved goodbye for the last time, I drove away from my parent's with a tear in my eye, wondering what the future held for my family and me.