But Penny was outside, pinning sheets to the washing line that stretched along the residential side of the building, close to the family’s quarters. Another sore point for Elle: Anna had insisted on line-drying laundry, where possible, to ‘give it that sun-kissed, fresh smell’. All well and good, thought Elle, when there was actually sun. Not to mention the extra labour.

The sheets were blinding in the pre-storm glare and Penny was struggling against the wind to hang them. Elle put her coffee down and went to help her.

‘Sleep OK?’ her sister asked.

‘Not too well, actually. You know yourself.’

‘Yes, I was up half the night too, worrying. Mostly about how I’d do the morning routine without Mum.’

‘What about Linda and Clive?’ Elle asked, referring to the long-time staff. ‘Didn’t they help?’

Penny looked at her strangely. ‘We had to let them go a couple of years back, Elle. There’s only really Molly left in the kitchen now, and only part-time. Dad does the gardens, when he remembers, and Mum did the cleaning, manned the bar, made the lunches and afternoon-teas, welcomed people at reception . . . I actually don’t know how she did it, when I list it out like that. Of course, I helped with all the behind the scenes stuff . . . but I just don’t have the same way with people that she had.’

Elle was too shocked to contradict her and make her feel better. ‘But Mum never said, she never told me that things were that bad. So she was basically running this place single-handedly?’

Penny’s cheeks reddened. ‘Mum loved the hotel, Elle. She knew that you’d just tell her to give it up if it wasn’t making money. But this place was her whole world. It wasn’t really about money.’

‘Oh come on, everything’s about money, in the end,’ Elle retorted drily and then added almost to herself, ‘It’s no wonder she had a heart attack, carrying that load.’

‘Well, I didn’t see you here offering a hand,’ Penny shot back, flinging down a sheet.

‘I didn’t know she was under that kind of pressure, did I?’

Suddenly they heard a sound from behind. ‘When you’re finished . . .’ Ned muttered. ‘Family business inside.’

It was the most they’d heard their father say since the funeral, and the sisters stared at each other for a second, both still flushed with anger before they hurriedly hung the rest of the sheets and followed him inside.

The three sat at one of the now-deserted dining-room tables.

Guests typically left the hotel after breakfast to scour the shops down town, walk the beach, or drive out to hike the sugarloaf. Although none of those activities seemed very attractive today, thought Elle, looking out again at the sky, which had darkened to an ominous deep grey.