Hotel Vendome Read Free

Damme would tell her stories of when she was a little girl. Heloise adored her.
    “Where’s Heloise?” Mrs. Van Damme asked with a warm smile, as the elevator man waited for them, and Hugues chatted with her for a few minutes. He always made time for the guests. No matter how busy he was, he never looked it.
    “Doing her homework upstairs, I hope.” And if not, they both knew she was probably roaming the hotel, visiting her friends. She loved pushing the maids’ carts, and distributing the lotions and shampoos, and they always gave her spares.
    “If you see her, tell her to come and have tea with me when she’s finished,” Mrs. Van Damme said with a smile. Heloise often did that, and they shared tea sandwiches of cucumber or egg salad, and eclairs from room service. They had a British chef, originally from Claridge’s, who was in charge of only their high tea, which was the best in the city, even though their main chef was French, and had been personally recruited by Hugues too. He had his hand in every aspect of the hotel, whether “front of the house” or back. It was all part of what made the Hotel Vendome so special. The staff was trained to provide personalized attention, and it started with Hugues.
    “Thank you very much, Madame Van Damme,” Hugues said politely, smiling at her, as the elevator door closed. After that he walked back through the lobby, thought of his daughter, and hoped she was doing her homework, as he had said. He had other things on his mind, although he looked so totally unruffled that no one would have suspected the chaos that was going on in the basement of the hotel at that moment. They had had several calls from guests, since they had had to shut off the water to most of the floors half an hour before. They explained that they were doing some minor repairs, and the hotel operators and desk clerks were assuring anyone who called that they expected to have the water back on within the hour. But the truth was that a pipe had burst in the basement, every engineer and plumber in the hotel was working on it, and minutes before, outside plumbers had been called.
    Hugues looked calm as he reassured everyone with a smile. Seeing him, one could only assume that he had everything in control. He mentioned the water shutoff lightly to each guest who checked in. He told them that water service would be restored imminently, and asked if room service could send anything to their room. He didn’t say it, but there would be no charge for it, of course, to make up for the lack of water and the inconvenience. He had preferred to stay in the lobby himself so arriving guests had a sense that all was in order. All he could hope was that the burst pipe could be located and repaired quickly. They were hoping that room service wouldn’t be forced to close; the main kitchen was already swimming in six inches of water, and everyone they could spare had been sent to the basement to help. There was no sign of any of it in the lobby. He was planning to go downstairs himself in a few minutes to check the situation again. And from what he was being told, the flood in the basement was getting worse. Despite all their renovations, it was after all an old hotel.
    As Hugues greeted a Spanish aristocrat and his wife, just arriving from Europe, the scene in the basement was one of utter chaos. No one observing the calm appearance of elegance in the lobby could have suspected what a mess it was downstairs.
    In the basement men were shouting, the water was rising, and a torrent of water burst from a wall, as engineers in brown uniforms waded through the flood, and were soaked from head to foot. Four plumbers were working on it, and all six of the hotel’s engineers had been called back into work. Mike, the head engineer, was close to where the torrent was coming from, and working like a demon to try and locate the source. He had a belt around his waist with a series of wrenches hanging from it, and as he tried one after