Meet Me at Fir Tree Lodge

by Rachel Dove

  Slicing some cheese to put onto the untoasted sides of his bread, he looked out of the window. This place was amazing. He felt different here, detached. More fun even. It felt nice to share a place with someone too. Since he’d moved out of his parents’ house, he’d been well aware of the empty feel of his flat. After the calls had stopped, and everyone else was settling in for the night. It felt nice to be in someone else’s space, with someone else for company.

  Taking his cheese on toast and cuppa through to the lounge, he sat back on the sheeted sofa and ate in silence, looking around at Rebecca’s things. Or lack of them. The furniture was nice, but there wasn’t any personal feel to the room. Any of them really. It looked like a holiday cottage, all set up for life, but no evidence of living. She had no photos around, nothing that told him anything real about her.

  She liked nice bed sheets, and things kept clean. She read books, he’d seen a few laying around. Notes in the margins of some of them, bookmarks and sticky tabs in others. She liked nice perfume, and good shampoo. She hated most humans, and he didn’t know why. He’d always felt awkward around people, but that wasn’t it with her. He’d watched her with customers. She was relaxed, open, and unguarded. Around Hans too. She trusted him, but he suspected that even that hadn’t come easily. She was a puzzle, and he was already here trying to solve another. He thought of the call earlier, the one she’d overheard. He’d never got the chance to tell her about his dad, but she seemed to be in a hurry. Finishing off his food, he placed the plate back on the coffee table, and noticed something underneath. On the floor, one corner just poking out from under the wood, was a black book. He leaned forward, and pulling it out, he noticed the gilded gold edges, and the title of the book. Photo Album. He stared at it for a while, before putting it back underneath the table. Right where he found it. He wanted to know about her, but he didn’t fancy pissing her off any more either. His fingers tingled at the thought of what was inside, what made a woman like her hide herself away here, without seeming to need or want anyone. He couldn’t really understand that. He couldn’t cope without speaking to everyone he wanted to back home. It was killing him being away from his dad, and he’d thought he was going to have to be sedated to even get on the plane to come here. It had felt so terribly wrong to be leaving, especially now. Even if his absence was what his dad wanted. Luke had avoided work trips abroad at all costs before, being a homebody just like his dad, wanting to stay close, and now he felt a little stupid to have only just used his passport.

  They were so different, Rebecca and he, and being shoved together had obviously mortified her. Still, he could see glimpses of the real Rebecca coming out, and that’s who he wanted to know more about. He just wasn’t about to go riffling through her underwear drawer. He had caught himself sniffing her perfume bottle this morning, and that was bad enough. He’d half expected Gillian Anderson to come running in and arrest him. God, I’ve watched too much bloody TV for my own good. He just couldn’t resist though, he could smell something around Fir Tree Lodge he couldn’t place. A nice smell. Turned out, it was her. It must be sharing with a girl after living in a man only zone with his dad. Even their cleaner had been a man. He’d hardly grown up with a woman’s touch, despite the adoring women that his dad had attracted over the years. A single dad was like a baby gazelle to the voracious tiger-like mum set in their little village. He was hot property for many years, but his dad never bothered with any of them. He was already madly in love, with the wife he’d lost. So it had just been the two of them, and now, Luke was alone. Alone, in the French Alps, about to make a very horrendous mistake, and quite possibly break his damn neck. A little perfume sniffing was to be expected, he supposed, in the face of all that. Looking at his phone, he wished that he’d taken Rebecca’s number. He could call her, ask her if she was doing okay. If she needed anything maybe. God, I’m pathetic. It was gone four now and the café would be closing soon. He tucked his phone into his sweatpants, and making himself look a little more presentable, he headed downstairs to see Hans, and maybe even buy a piece of Becks’ cake. Rebecca. Damn. He liked the name Becks, it suited her but she seemed to hate it. Rebecca seemed too formal for her. There he was, thinking about her again. Dammit. He needed to get out of here, get some coffee into his addled brain.

  The café was busy, people milling around coming in and out, others sat at tables eating, drinking and laughing. There was a real energy in the room, and Luke steeped down into the counter area, closing the door behind him just before Hans barrelled into him, knocking him off his feet and both of them halfway across the opposite counter.

  ‘Ca-can’t. Brea-the,’ Luke gasped, his torso gripped by what felt like an over-friendly bear, his hips jammed into the countertop as Hans crushed him from above. ‘Gerroff. Daft …’ He managed to take a gasp of air as Hans propped them both up. ‘Pillock!’ The air rushed out of his lungs all at once, and Luke shouted it loud into the space. The bloody high ceilings and echoey room bounced the word back around them, and the whole café was staring at them. It was then that Luke heard a familiar voice.

  ‘Pillock was just what I was thinking! Hans, put him down, he’s squashing my Chelsea buns!’ Rebecca strode into the room, bags weighing her down, her nose pink from the cold. Looking around her, she plastered on a smile and addressed the room. ‘Anyone need anything?’ It was as friendly as you like, to match her angelic-looking face, but it had an edge to it. She basically gave the whole room a ‘stop it now, or your baby photos are going on social media’ look, as though she was an overworked mother addressing her unruly children. The café-goers all shook their heads politely, the murmur of chatter starting up again. One man raised his hand, but his wife slapped it down and shushed him. The two women nodded at each other appreciatively, and the spell was broken.

  Forgotten now, Luke managed to prise Hans’s meaty hooks from around his middle and push him off. Well, push was a strong word. He’d need a strong wind to make a dent. He barely moved him. Squeezing himself out from the gap, he tried to make a run for it, but Hans tripped him up as he moved to give him room, and before he knew it, he was on the floor. After screeching like a parrot and flailing his arms and legs around like a wonky windmill.

  ‘Hans!’ Rebecca was round the counter in a moment, glaring at any customers who’d dared to laugh. Luke could see her from his position on the floor. He’d twirled like a top before landing on his back. ‘What did you do that for!’

  ‘I didn’t mean to!’ he protested, bellowing like Brian Blessed. A toddler sitting at one of the tables nearby tried in vain to cover her ears, but her snow suit was so thick she just ended up waggling her hands ineffectually before bursting into tears. Hans groaned.

  ‘Oh no, not again. How the hell am I going to be a dad? Sorry Luke.’ Hans’s face looked wretched, and Luke tried to think of something to say to help his friend. He didn’t know much about kids though, apart from being one once upon a time. If he’d been a toddler and had seen Hans, he’d have probably filled his nappy too. The man was big, but that wasn’t all he was.

  ‘Hans,’ Rebecca jumped in, dropping her bags by her feet and coming to kneel by Luke. ‘You are going to be an amazing dad. Your baby will have the best protective parent ever, and that little one is going to love the bones off you. The kid will have its own bodyguard, teacher, and portable climbing frame. Now suck it up, go apologise to the parents, and give them some free cake. Get some practice in. Bribery is basically 85 per cent of parenting anyway from what I hear.’ Hans nodded, smiling now and he headed off to the cake counter. Luke tried to get up, but Rebecca placed her hand on his chest.

  ‘Don’t move, just for a minute.’ He felt weird, down here with her, on their own. He could hear Hans talking to the parents, laughing with them. Cake solved many problems, it seemed. He could hear the café sounds around him, but it all sounded muffled. Distant.

  ‘You had a good day?’

  A lame question to ask when you were on the floor after being felled by
Chewbacca. Rebecca looked down at him and all over his face, and then she started to run her hands through his hair. ‘Not bad. Don’t talk.’ He had to stifle a groan, it felt so nice. He did nothing but stare up at her, and she was looking right at him the whole time. She leaned closer, moving her hands to the back of his head now, his neck. The perfume he knew so well now filling his already jangled senses. Is she going to … to … she is, she’s going to kiss me!

  ‘Oww!’ She poked a sore spot on the back of his head, where his head had clunked to the floor. ‘That hurt!’

  ‘Sorry,’ Rebecca muttered, still prodding around his scalp and making him follow her finger. ‘You’re fine.’ She didn’t look sorry at all. In fact, he was pretty sure he saw a smirk. Either that or the tears in his eyes were blurring his vision. He was pretty embarrassed, even in their little bubble. She went to pull him up, but when her hand touched his he closed his fingers around hers.

  ‘Thanks. I can get up.’ He heaved himself up on the counter with his free hand, and when he stood up, the whole café clapped, and Hans whisper whooped along with them with one fatherly eye on the startled toddler, who was looking at him as if Hagrid had popped in for an americano, and she was the only one to see it. ‘Ah … yes. Thank you, my dear fans. I did enjoy my trip!’ He went with it, bowing, and then his hand was being pulled up the stairs, and the clapping began again behind the closed door.

  At the top, Rebecca took him into the lounge and deposited him on the sofa.

  ‘Wait one minute.’

  She headed back down the stairs, leaving him sitting back on the sofa like a lemon. He heard her tell Hans off again at the bottom of the stairs, the unmistakable wallop of a plastic bag hitting a Swedish pillock. Luke chuckled, and waited for his lodge mate to come back up.

  *

  Laden down with the bags, Rebecca had belatedly realised that her bags actually contained some precious things, so she was pretty miffed with herself. If she’d have remembered, she’d have given Hans a swift kick. She could do that now, bar the odd twinge and occasional night spasm in her back. Three words she randomly remembered many times. Often in the dead of night. Full mobility restored. Like she was fixed, all shiny and new. As if healing came with a memory wipe bonus. Plus, she could have kicked him in the goolies. Holly wasn’t in need of them, it would probably have given her a laugh too. Putting the bags down in the lounge, she went to check on the patient and found him turning on his laptop.

  ‘Your head okay?’

  ‘Yeah, fine. Used to it now.’ He rapped his knuckle on the top of his head. ‘It’s pretty tough. He got me worse than that the first night here. He forgets we’re all Borrowers compared to his size.’

  She snorted with laughter, shutting the laptop lid. ‘Nice try, but I’ve been felled by Hans before too, he’s basically a toddler in a man’s body.’

  ‘I know that, when he stayed at mine back home, we always knew he was around. Dad used to hide the good china.’

  ‘I bet, the breakage rate skyrockets on my days off.’ She pushed the laptop lid shut again when he attempted to open it. ‘Besides, no more work. I have a job for you.’ Heading back over to the bags, she lugged them onto the sofa next to him and gave him her sternest look.

  ‘Now before I open these bags, I need you to remember that you owe me.’ He put up a hand to protest, but she karate chopped it back down.

  ‘You owe me, despite the fact that you did replace most things …’ She eyed the sofa with a devastated look. ‘… You do still owe me an apology. So,’ she pulled a small plush orange cuddly dinosaur from one of the nearest bags, ‘this is how you will pay me back.’ The look on his face was worth all the lugging of bags after all. He looked terrified.

  *

  ‘You fancy a cuppa?’

  ‘Now, that’s the best thing you’ve said all day.’

  ‘Ah, come on,’ Rebecca teased him. ‘You loved every minute of it.’ Looking at him dishevelled on the floor next to her, covered in glitter and bits of ribbon, she suppressed a smirk. ‘They look great.’

  All around him were baby bits, including a rather impressive nappy cake that they had spent half their crafting time putting together. Luke hadn’t even heard of one before, and thought they were about to bake. As if that was all she did. It had irked her at the time, but she was getting less and less shocked with every little weird thing he did and said. She realised, the guy was a brainbox, but he didn’t have a lot of life skills. Bear Grylls would have left him whimpering in the boat, strapped to an inflatable unicorn. It was cute though. And glitter suited him.

  ‘They do, but the whole experience was definitely a bit weird. Did you have a lot of babies around you, growing up?’

  She thought of her childhood. ‘Nope, only child. Baby free. I didn’t even have time for babysitting to be honest.’ She got up to go to the kitchen.

  ‘Really?’ Following her in, he swerved around her, taking two mugs from the tree and flicking the kettle on. ‘Super nerd, were you? Sat in a corner somewhere, reading comics?’

  She popped a tea bag into each mug, him passing the milk to her whilst she reached for the sugar.

  ‘Two, right?’ she checked, and he nodded. Spooning two spoons in each one, he grabbed the kettle the second it flicked off and poured the water in. ‘And I think you’ll find that you were the comic geek.’ He blushed, and she knew she’d nailed him. It. Nailed it. ‘I was the one who hung out near the gym, for fun.’ Oops.

  ‘Really …’ he muttered, trying to slowly lift the lid of his laptop again. ‘Any photos?’

  Her eyes fell below the coffee table before she could stop them. Her heart was thudding in her chest. She’d had her album out before he’d landed in her life, a night filled with wine and regrets. Fuck. Had he looked? Surely not.

  ‘No, sadly not. I hate the camera.’

  That was true enough. It had never been about that. Not for her. They both watched the tea stewing in the mugs, for lack of anything else to say.

  ‘So …’

  ‘Anyway?’

  They both laughed nervously, their awkwardness made palpable by them removing their tea bags and adding milk in annoying synchronicity.

  ‘What I was—’

  ‘What I meant was—’

  ‘Got any plans for tonight?’ he blurted out, dropping his tea bag into the bin as he asked, missing it entirely. They both watched it slowly slide down the side of the bin, leaving a little tea puddle on the floor, and a path down from lid to bottom where the tea had dripped. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. ‘I meant to do that. Pa Borrower uses them to fertilise his allotment.’ She was about to call him a plonker, when he put his hand over hers.

  ‘What I was trying to say, was that I would really like to get out of this flat for a bit, I was thinking we could go out to eat? I’ve not had a look around yet. My treat, to say thanks and sorry yet again. To you and your poor bins. Do you have plans?’

  She didn’t, and if he’d seen her work calendar downstairs, he knew it too.

  ‘No, but you don’t have to do that. You already made it up to me.’

  ‘I know, but you’ve got to eat anyway, right? What were you going to do?’

  She looked at him blankly. She had nothing. A family-sized bar of chocolate and a romance book in bed wasn’t exactly comparable to going out with a cute guy, to have a free meal. She’d only have to fend her mother off anyway. She’d rung once whilst she was out shopping, but Rebecca ignoring the call wouldn’t put her off.

  ‘Nothing really, bit of paperwork.’ Nice save, Rebecca. Cupcake empire boss vibes. Not reading about a hot vet whilst ignoring the competition entry forms that were now stashed in her bedside drawer, taunting her silently. You won’t enter, and Mum won’t listen. ‘Food out sounds nice actually. Dutch, of course.’

  Luke rolled his eyes, taking a deep slurp of his tea. ‘Fab, pick you up at seven, then. You need a hand with the lounge stuff?’ He’d already tidied up, there were only the packages ready for
Saturday stacked up. They could wait.

  ‘Pick me up?’ She shook her head at his offer of help. She didn’t want to cram them all into her room, they could stay there for now. She could get Hans to collect them before the big day, keep them stashed. ‘Where did you have in mind?’

  ‘There’s a great place on resort apparently. Hans was telling some of the customers about it, have you been? Top notch, he reckons.’

  Rebecca was already making a face. She knew exactly where he meant. She’d been there before, many times. Being schmoozed and celebrated. ‘I have a place, a better one. Trust me.’

  Luke frowned, but he didn’t argue.

  ‘Well, that’s decided then. See you at seven?’ He looked at her for confirmation, and she realised that she was nervous. Her stomach flipped at the thought of going out with him. This isn’t good Rebecca, come on. He’s leaving soon. You have to get your life together. Crushing on a passing hot nerd is not part of the plan. Besides, he annoys you, remember?

  ‘See you then,’ she said and he left to go to his room. Minutes later, she heard the bathroom door close, and the shower turn on. He was getting ready. Looking at the bags she had left to unpack, she picked them up and headed to her own room. Holly was right, she couldn’t answer the question about whether or not she liked Luke. Not to Holly, but now she couldn’t really deny it to herself any longer. He hadn’t been here a week, it had been what, three days? She was already interested in what he had to say and why he was here, and she knew it went deeper than just wanting to get the clumsy northerner out of her home, and out of her life. He was growing on her. It’s not every man that would sit making up games and favour bags for a baby shower. The fact that he didn’t know what a nappy cake was had made her laugh, but before long his technical brain had kicked in and he was designing structure ideas and colour schemes from what she had brought. The man was like a wedding planner, but looked like a GQ model. She’d had so much fun, till she’d realised that unlike everything else in her regimented sheltered life, it was temporary. He would do what he came to do, and leave. Just like everyone else around here. They came to visit and went home. She should be used to it, but right now she couldn’t help feeling just a little sense of panic. Closing her bedroom door behind her, she pulled out the outfits she’d splurged on in town. There was a nice little clothing boutique there that didn’t treat her any differently than they did when she shopped there before … well, just before. They always made her feel welcome. Comfortable. She could try things on there without getting a complex about flashing a scar, or catching someone spotting one of her flaws. She felt like enough of those were on show already.