8. THEN CAME COVID (Part II)

Mr Yip. Photograph David Yip

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by David Yip

My new job as is, again, in the Lake District, in Coniston. I was interviewed by the owner for the Assistant Manager position and explained that I needed two set days off to be home for my dad. He agreed and explained that the current restaurant Manager had been mistakenly promoted. He hoped I would turn things around.

Of course, I had been a restaurant general manager a few times and did well, but my impostor syndrome reared its head, not helped by the fact that I had been off for six months.

On my first day, I met the general manager who had been talked down by her boss. She told me I had to work until 5pm, gave me a set of keys and then took me through the rota. I noticed I had only one day off, so I explained that it was agreed I would have two. She replied sharply, “Yes, that won’t be happening!” Then, offhandedly, “You are working with two other people. They have just arrived, so I need to leave now. See you later!”

Nothing! She didn’t show me the menus or how the till worked or show me the menus. She didn’t show me where anything was, or show me the cellar or the office. I left gobsmacked. A couple of hours into service, a supervisor I was working with came up to me,

“That was the manager on the phone. She won’t be coming back. You are to stay and close up.”

Now this!

I walked behind the bar, collected my jacket, handed my keys to the supervisor. He asked:

What are you doing?

“Leaving,” I said.

“I don’t know what type of place this is, but whatever it is I know I won’t be staying. Bye.”

In 35 years in the hospitality industry, this was the only time walked out of a job on day one. Experience taught me that this place was not going to get any better.

On my way home, I called my former manager at the Queens Head, Sam. I told her what I had done. Sam said,

“Perfect, because I’m looking for someone to help me run a second site. I would love to have you back. Leave it with me while I speak to the boss.”

At home, I emailed the owner of the place where I had just walked out, explaining my actions. He answered saying, “Please reconsider. I want you to be my GM, not the person who is there now. Let me talk to my business partner and we can sort this out.”

A little while later, Sam then called me to say she could offer me an assistant manager job. She would be looking to take on The Queens Head in Hawkshead, as well as looking after the Troutbeck site. I decided that, having never been let down by Robinsons or by Sam, I would be happy to go back. So I agreed immediately.

Before starting back at the Queens, I took a holiday with my family to Scotland, as the government had eased travel restrictions. We spent a great few days away, with my brother checking in on my dad.

Returning to work at the Queens felt like I had never left. All the old team were there, including my friend and colleague Mike. I worked with Mike before at Clarence House. I was the one who helped him get the job. It was great to see them all.

COVID restrictions were still in force, but I enjoyed being back. That was, until the company made it mandatory for us all to wear face masks. Working with a mask on while running around busily all day wasn’t pleasant at all, and I hoped it wouldn’t last long.

In December the government rolled out mass vaccinations to help combat the spread of COVID.

When I was a boy, my mum took my brothers and sisters and me out of school when vaccinations were due, because she didn’t believe in them. My sister Linda was the only one to get them. They gave Linda a vaccination without my mum’s permission, and when my mum discovered this, she was not pleased at all. I decided that, no, I wouldn’t have a vaccination, especially because the vaccine had been rolled out so quickly. I refused to take it.

My dad and Taryn also declined them.

Christmas quickly approached. The government announced that, once again we were to go into lockdown, and that pubs and hotels would close. This time we were furloughed right away.

We stayed closed until May.

My return to the Queens was short. Sam told me she was leaving for a doctor’s appointment because she had a sinus infection. She came back sometime later and asked to speak to me. No, not a sinus infection, her doctor had told she had cancer.

She said this so calmly! I admired her strength. She told me that if it were cancer, she’d beat it anyway.

My dad had another fall, and this time they kept him in hospital. The doctor informed me that they believed that, because of his excessive drinking over so many years, his nerves were severely damaged. That’s why he kept falling. They asked about my home set-up, and if I had a room downstairs where he could sleep.

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My dining room became my dad’s bedroom, with the hospital bringing a bed with an alarm, and we laid down crash mats in case he fell.

At work, I was called into a meeting with Sam and Simon. Simon asked if I would be the holding general manager until Sam’s return. I explained what had happened to my father.

I told them that although I would like to do the job they offered, I simply couldn’t. In fact, I would need to reduce the hours I worked, as I needed to be home to look after my dad.

We agreed I could work mornings and afternoons, so that I could be home each evening to look after my dad.

While at work, carers came in to help my dad; with washing and eating. The carers told me he refused to cooperate, insisting that I, his son, would do everything for him. So I asked them to leave and looked after him myself.

Dad told me he wanted to go back to his upstairs bedroom, and I told him he couldn’t manage the stairs. He tried anyway so I bought lockable baby gates and fitted them at the bottom. Rattling woke up one night by a rattling noise. I found dad trying to climb over the baby gate to get to his room.

My days off were spent taking him to the local park. I bought him a walking frame to help him. Perhaps walking would bring the strength back into his legs.

After a couple of weeks, I had handrails fitted along the landings and stairs at home to help him move about. He could sleep in his room! His bed was taken out of my dining room. He was happy.

Every morning I left my dad breakfast and a sandwich for lunch while I was at work and when I came home, I put him in the bath, shaved him, and cooked his tea.

One morning I woke up with a headache. Dad, once such an expert Chinese cook, had tried to use the cooker and left the gas on, before going back to bed. We were lucky to be alive.

My mum purchased a gas detector alarm, but I decided to be safer and fit a lock to the kitchen door. We settled into a routine, and it was hard work managing a full-time job and taking care of dad, but he started to put weight back. He was happy.

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Travel restrictions lifted, Taryn returned home to Qatar. My sister and her family were delighted to have her back.

I worked in Hawkshead for almost a year before a new general manager was hired. Sam’s cancer diagnosis was confirmed and she to spend some time receiving treatment. When she got back she asked me to come back to help her in Troutbeck until she got fully fit.

My dad’s health deteriorated. I came home one day to discover he had soiled himself in bed, and that it was all over the bathroom and bed linen.

Because dad refused to have carers, I spent my evenings cleaning, changing beds, and trying to get him to eat before I went to sleep. I never knew what to expect when I got home.

It was like this for a couple of years, until one night my dad wouldn’t get out of bed. My mum and sister came. We called an ambulance, and the paramedic told us he was reaching the end of his life. They took him to hospital where the doctor informed us he had pneumonia and would be staying at the hospital.

My mum said: ‘It’s time for you to get him the full-time help he needs’.

But I could no longer cope with the way things had been; working full-time and trying to do it on my own. Reluctantly, I agreed. Then started to cry.

I knew dad wouldn’t be coming home.

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