**Diary Entry**
“Get out of here, you filthy old man!” they shouted after him as they threw him out of the hotel. Only later did they realise who he truly wasbut by then, it was far too late.
The young receptionist, impeccably dressed and polished, blinked in shock at the sixty-year-old man standing before her. His clothes were worn, and he carried a faint but unpleasant odour, yet he smiled warmly and asked, “Miss, could I book a suite, please?”
His bright blue eyes gleamed with familiarityas if Emily had seen that look somewhere before. But before she could place it, irritation flickered through her. With a dismissive flick of her wrist, she reached for the panic button beneath the desk.
“Im sorry, but we dont accommodate guests like you,” she said coldly, tilting her chin up.
“Guests like *what*? Do you have special policies Im unaware of?”
He looked wounded. Not a vagrant, certainly, but his appearance… well, it left much to be desired. There was a lingering scent about him, something stale, like fish left out too long. And yet, he had the audacity to ask for a *suite*!
Emily stifled a laugh, eyeing him with disdain. He couldnt even afford the cheapest room here.
“Please, dont waste my time. I need a shower and rest. Im exhausted.”
“Ive made myself clearyoure not welcome here. Try another hotel. Besides, were fully booked.” She muttered under her breath, “*Dirty old man, thinking he deserves a suite*…”
Thomas Whitmore knew better. There was always one room reserved. He opened his mouth to argue, but security was already upon him, twisting his arms roughly as they marched him outside. They exchanged smirks, chuckling*look at this old bloke trying to relive his glory days.*
“Grandad, you couldnt even scrape together the cash for economy. Piss off before we rearrange your bones!”
Thomas was stunned. *Grandad?!* He was only sixty! If not for that blasted fishing trip, hed have shown them exactly who they were dealing with. Part of him wanted to teach them a lesson, but exhaustion won out. A brawl would mean police involvement, and that was the last thing he needed. He swallowed his pride, silently vowing that if he ever owned this hotel, these men would be out before sunset.
His attempt to return failedthey threatened to call the authorities. Grumbling under his breath, he trudged to a park bench. How had it come to this? A simple fishing trip gone wrong. The fish had barely nibbledjust small fry he tossed back. Then the rain came, and on his way home, he slipped near the riverbank, plunging knee-deep into murky water. By the time he hauled himself out, his clothes were ruined, and his keys were lost.
To make matters worse, his daughter, Sophie, was away on business. No one to let him in. Hed meant to surprise her with a visit, only to find she was leaving for a trip herself. If hed known, hed have waited. Hed even taken time off work just to see her.
“Dad, Im sorry to leave you like this. Ill be back soonpromise me you wont mope?” Sophie hugged him, pressing a kiss to his temple.
“Whats there to mope about? Ill go fishing. Thats why I came, isnt it?” He forced a laugh.
“I thought you came just to see *me*,” she pouted, though she smiledshe knew he was teasing.
He hadnt checked his phones battery. Hadnt imagined hed end up like this. A hotel wouldve been a temporary fix until Sophie returned. But now? They wouldnt even let him step inside. Since when did appearances dictate service? He wasnt drunk, wasnt a nuisancejust a fisherman caught in bad luck. So he smelled a bit of river? Was that reason enough to humiliate him?
Staring at his dead phone, Thomas sighed. No friends or family in this city. No locksmith would help without proof of ownershipthe house was in Sophies name. The phone stayed stubbornly silent.
“What now, *Grandad*?” He chuckled bitterly. No one had ever called him that before. *Grandad?* He was in his prime! His employees wouldve choked hearing it.
A woman sitting beside him pulled him from his thoughts. Middle-aged, kind-faced, well-keptshe offered him a warm pasty. Grateful, he accepted, his stomach growling.
“Youve been here all day. What happened?”
Thomas told her everythingthe fishing, the rain, the lost keys, the hotels cruelty.
“Doubt Ill find them now,” he sighed. “Probably at the bottom of the river. Never thought Id end up like this. All because people judge by appearances.”
She nodded. She ran a bakery nearby and had noticed him earliertoo dignified to be a drunk.
“I could tell right away you werent trouble,” she smiled.
“God forbid,” he huffed. “Healths too precious at my age. But today, I was called an old man and thrown out. Forgive me, Margaretmay I borrow your phone? I need to find somewhere to stay. Dont want to bother Sophie this late.”
“Youre welcome at mine. Ive got a spare roomshower, rest, call Sophie in the morning.”
“Youd do that? Im beyond grateful.”
Margaret was the first person all day to show him kindness. He vowed silently to repay her.
After closing the bakery, she led him home. Over the years, shed learnedpeople often walked past those in need. Once, shed been that person, saved by a strangers mercy. Helping him was a risk, but with no family left, she believed in good deedsif not on earth, then in heaven.
A hot shower and clean clothes (borrowed from Margaret) later, Thomas felt human again. Her cottage was modest but cosy. Accustomed to luxury, hed never been happier. Hed nearly resigned himself to a night on the streetsnow, he sat in warmth. God hadnt forgotten him.
“Youve a kind heart. Thank you for not fearing to help,” he said before bed.
In the morning, Margaret handed him her phone. Sophie was furious when she heard. She stormed to the hotel.
“We couldnt host someone like *that*,” Emily defended, playing victim. “You shouldve seen him!”
“Like a man who needed help? He wasnt drunk or dangerous! Every one of you will submit a resignation. This hotel is *mine*, and I wont tolerate this behaviour.”
The staff exchanged baffled glanceswhy apologise to a “pitiful old man”? Then Thomas arrived: clean, composed, dignified. Emily gaspedshe recognised him now from business magazines. Her face paled. Too late.
Security grovelled, but Sophie was unmoved. None of them kept their jobs.
“Dad, Im so sorry. Ill hire a manager wholl train staff properly.”
Emily begged forgiveness, but the moment was lost. No use crying over spilt milk.
When Thomas suggested Margaret as manager, Sophie agreed instantly. He explainedthe hotel was hers; he was just her father, denied entry. Sophie had fallen for this city during university and stayed. Thomas, reluctant to retire, had gifted her the hotel as a start. Hed never visiteduntil now.
Sophie dreamed of a place where everyone was treated with respect. Margaret embraced the vision, proposing partnerships with hostels for those who couldnt afford rooms. Shed even provide pastries from her bakery.
Sophie knew shed found the right person.
After a few days with Sophie, Thomas returned home. Recounting the ordeal to friends, he laughedbut bitterness lingered. The thought of being alone, cold, ignoredit terrified him.
He found himself thinking of Margaret often. Theyd spent just one day together, yet something warm had sparked. Hed loved his late wife deeply, but life went on. The idea of growing old alone gnawed at him.
Finally, he made a decision: handed his business to a trusted partner, sold his flat, and bought a new onenear Sophie and Margaret. Margaret was delighted. They saw each other more now, though neither rushed things. Thomas invited her to the theatre; she accepted with a smile.
Sophie watched, amused. Shed noticed the quiet affection between them long ago. And she couldnt have been happierher father was smiling again.
