22 The Bridlington - Original Story By Stephanie Poppins

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.

The Bridlington.

A series set in an English hotel.

Written and performed by Stephanie Poppins.

Episode 22 Joseph Skinner adjusted his headset as he descended to the basement levels of the Bridlington Hotel.

It was all hands on deck.

The suitcases could wait.

He glanced at his watch.

There were checks to be made this time of the day and they were expecting the readings at reception.

The maintenance team was short-staffed because of the flu and there was no one else who knew what to do.

He raced past Petra's room,

The room he'd spent more than a few nights in when she was being Bianca and he was beyond stupid.

Then straight to the boiler rooms and the laundry facilities.

These formed the hidden circulatory system humming night and day to keep the luxury running seamlessly.

If he never saw that woman again it would be too soon,

He thought.

Hers was what she called the family from hell.

Not that Petra would be going anywhere.

She was their mole,

Their family eyes on the ground and all under the endorsement of Lady Perklington Smythe.

Unbelievable.

He checked the water pressure readings.

Perfect.

Then made notes about the scheduled elevator maintenance.

Okay,

All good.

Job done.

Now back upstairs as quick as I can for the next lot of arrivals.

He rushed back down the corridor,

Making sure to dodge housekeeping as best as he could.

Meanwhile,

Crossing the lobby above,

The jolly person that was Jean checked the marble polishing,

Spotted the lack of newspapers at the restaurant and made note.

Then smiled warmly at each middle-aged guest,

Her practised eye ever active.

No longer was she the hotel mother figure,

Responsible for covering the front desk.

Now with a recent reshuffle and the endorsement from Emily Perklington Smythe,

She'd been promoted and she was enjoying every minute of it.

Oh dear,

Look at that.

She bent down and picked up paper plates that had been discarded in the passage from the drinks reception the night before.

And that.

She tugged at the loose thread on the carpet near the elevators.

It began to unravel,

So she stopped before it got worse.

Tuck it back in.

There you go.

They'll have to wait for maintenance.

She got out her phone and photographed,

Catalogued and assigned the job.

Then she carried on,

Waving to Emily,

Who was polishing the reception desk and welcoming the florist with their fresh arrangements.

White orchids and eucalyptus.

How lovely,

She said,

As she positioned the largest bouquet to catch the morning light streaming through the crystal chandeliers.

Meanwhile,

The engineering team said their goodbyes and left.

The air conditioning was now maintained at 72 degrees.

The lighting was adjusted for optimal ambience.

And the fountain in the orangery was calibrated to its gentle,

Barely audible murmur.

All was ready for the day ahead.

Emily glanced over to Jeytin's desk.

He was checking his daily itinerary for restaurant availability,

Theatre bookings and weather conditions.

Isn't he handsome?

She said to herself.

Doesn't that brass behind him sparkle?

The windows practically disappear in his light.

Isn't he just perfect?

She checked her sapphire for the 15th time that morning.

Despite the theft,

The extortion,

The arrest of their manager,

The vitriolic abuse from her mother,

She still found time to count her blessings.

She'd found her man.

She'd grown close to her uncle.

And now both James and Jo were with her again.

Back together,

All three at the Bridlington.

The triangle of trust.

There was nothing that could ruin it now.

This was business as usual.

Nothing would stop the machine that was the Bridlington Hotel.

Uh,

Em,

What's that sound?

Jo,

Appearing from nowhere,

Was pointing to the lifts.

James?

James Brighton emerged from behind one of the large columns,

Eager to get away from Chucky and his incessant demands for more bacon.

I'll take a look,

Jo.

You cover the cases.

It's been making grinding noises all morning.

Thanks.

Like everything else in the world,

Since Cunningham left,

They've been deemed good enough for now.

But those lifts aren't really up to par anymore.

They sound unsafe,

Jo replied.

James sighed.

From what Emily told him,

She'd already messaged her mother that week about this.

But she didn't care.

It can wait until the winter season,

She replied curtly.

Looks like winter's arrived early,

He said.

And Emily agreed.

He dashed over,

But not before a huge mechanical shriek shot across the lobby floor,

Followed by an abrupt silence that seemed to echo through the hotel's Victorian bones.

This was it.

One of the lifts had finally given up.

And from the muffled voices echoing down the shaft,

It had failed while it was full.

Help!

Is anyone there?

Came a voice from somewhere between the second and third floors.

We're stuck!

James pressed his ear to the lift doors.

How many of you are in there?

Four,

Came the reply.

One of us is elderly,

And there's a little girl who's getting scared now.

Emily?

James gestured wildly to the front desk,

But Emily was busy soothing David.

It was Delaware's dog who was making a big fuss at the noise.

Stay calm in there,

He called.

I'm coming to get you out.

Meanwhile,

Joe busied himself with the cases,

Whilst Jean ushered everyone over to the orangery for complimentary tea and scones.

James dashed through the exit doors and bounded up the stairs three at a time,

His mind racing through the building's layout.

The lifts were old enough,

But they still had manual override capabilities if he could just reach the shaft from above.

The maintenance panel on the third floor,

That's it.

That led to a narrow service corridor that ran alongside the lift shaft.

He could do this.

What did he have to lose?

It wasn't as though he had anything better to do.

As quick as he could,

He discarded his Gucci shoes.

This would be a tight squeeze,

And it was barely wide enough for a person,

But it would give him access to the lift's roof hatch,

And that's what he had to do in order to get them out.

He grabbed a torch from the maintenance cupboard and squeezed through the access panel.

The service corridor was stifling and thick with decades of dust,

But he crawled forwards anyway.

He was on his hands and knees now,

Following the sound of the trapped guest's voices.

Through the gaps in the shaft wall,

He could see the top of the lift car,

Suspended about four feet below the third floor level.

The emergency rope ladder had been gathering dust in the maintenance room for years.

I can see you from up here,

He called down through the shaft.

I'm going to lower down the ladder,

Okay?

He secured it to the structural beam above the shaft and let it fall into place.

Then he climbed down gingerly,

Wondering why it always seemed to be him who got in such difficult situations,

But no matter.

This was his chance to prove himself and escape from the tyrant that was Constance Delaware.

The lift car swayed slightly under his weight.

But it held firm nevertheless.

Poking his head through the hatch,

He asked,

What's your name,

Sir?

To the elderly gentleman,

Now crouched in the corner.

I'm Frank,

Came a weak voice.

Frank Morrison.

But I don't think I can climb.

James studied the situation.

This was a heavy set man in his 70s,

Clearly in distress.

The others were a middle-aged couple on holiday and their eight-year-old daughter.

Her tear-streaked face peered up at him through the dim emergency lighting.

Okay,

Frank,

I'm going to rig up a harness,

Said James,

Using his belt and the emergency rope to create a makeshift pulley system.

The rest of you will help guide him up while I pull from above.

It took 20 minutes of careful maneuvering,

With James alternating between climbing up to pull and going back down to steady Morrison.

It was hard work,

And he began to think he wasn't cut out for it.

But this old man didn't look like he had enough time to wait.

Before he got help from the fire service.

After much pulling and going back down,

Pulling and going back down to steady Morrison again,

He managed to get the elderly man to safety on the third floor.

By this time,

A crowd had gathered,

Including several guests with their phones out who had filmed the rescue.

Then the family came up,

First a little girl who,

Despite her tears,

Proved surprisingly brave,

Followed by her parents.

It was more than an hour until at last,

James hauled himself back up through the hatch for the final time,

His shirt soaked with sweat and his hands raw from the rope.

That was incredible,

Son,

Said Lucy's father,

Shaking James's hand.

Jean,

Meanwhile,

Was on the phone to the paramedics,

Who arrived minutes later to check on the old man.

I was just doing my job,

Said James,

As Emily and Joe fussed over him.

But secretly,

He felt a sense of purpose that he hadn't felt in a long time.

All around him,

The phones were still recording.

Emily and Joe looked on in awe.

And James got the feeling Emily was already calculating the publicity value of the rescue.

And he didn't blame her.

After all that had happened recently,

The Bridlington could well do with a good piece of positive publicity.

And if he was at the centre of it,

All the better.

You're okay,

James,

Said Joe.

Playing hero,

Are we?

James smiled and wished he could have played hero for Chef when he'd been in need.

But that was just not to be.

Maybe this was,

In some strange way,

Making up for it.

The story hit the local paper the next morning.

Hotel Hero Saves Four in Dramatic Lift Rescue,

The headline read.

The photo showed James,

Grim and determined,

Covered in dust and emerging from the shaft.

By afternoon,

The regional news had picked it up and by evening,

His phone was ringing off the hook.

It wasn't long before he was offered a good prize for the story.

£8,

000.

The Sun had bid £9,

500,

But the Chronicle sealed the deal at £10,

000,

With a promise to focus on his heroism rather than sensationalising the hotel's maintenance issues.

This was an offer he could not refuse.

And he felt the universe must be looking out for him,

For now he could free himself from Delaware's clutches.

The local hero,

James Brighton,

Saving the family from the faulty lift,

Was a story that ran across two full pages that week,

Complete with interviews with the rescued guests and dramatic photos of the rescue in progress.

A guardian angel,

He was called,

And Lucy's parents described him as the bravest man we've ever met.

The story became viral,

And the Bridlington's phone rang constantly with booking inquiries from people who wanted to stay at the hotel with the hero.

On Thursday morning,

Exactly one week later,

James was called into the office of Lady Perklington Smythe.

I'll cut straight to the point,

She said,

Gesturing to the stack of newspapers on her desk.

I have been watching the coverage.

Bookings are up 300%.

People are asking specifically for James Brighton's hotel.

The board has agreed.

James Brighton?

You will now be a new hotel manager.

James sat down in shock.

You are to be the face of the Bridlington.

Do you understand,

James Brighton?

Um,

Yes,

Yes,

That's fantastic,

Thank you.

He didn't know what to say to this woman.

She had been the cause of so much pain in Emily's life.

And yet,

The words she was saying were the answers to his prayers.

He looked out of the window at the seafront,

Where families were already setting up their beach spots for another day.

Not long ago,

He was demoted,

And now they wanted him back,

Because he'd become famous for fixing one of the problems he'd warned them about.

It comes with a different salary,

I assume,

He asked impertinently.

20% increase.

That's the best I can do.

Okay,

When do I start?

You already have.

Your new business cards will be ready by this afternoon.

And as James Brighton walked back through the lobby,

He caught sight of the framed newspaper article sitting on the front desk.

For the first time in months,

James Brighton felt like he was exactly where he belonged.