His lady typist ran screaming for help, but it was too late. He was quite dead. Everyone was shocked by this, because he was only sixty-four, but Mrs Tolson dealt firmly with any female member of staff who started to go into hysterics or used this as an excuse for neglecting her duties. ‘Mr Greaves wouldn’t want you to upset our customers,’ she kept saying. ‘He’d tell us to carry on as usual, and that’s all we can do for him now. He made this hotel what it is, had been manager here since the beginning. A fine life’s work.’ The deputy manager took charge, but he was near retirement, and when someone asked him if he was going to become manager now, he shook his head. ‘I haven’t announced it yet, but I shall be retiring quite soon. Don’t worry, though. The Carlings always bear in mind the future needs of each hotel and they have several bright young men well trained and itching to take on a manager’s job.’ The hotel didn’t close for the funeral, but Mrs Tolson and the deputy manager attended it, together with a representative from each area of the hotel.
