Meet Me at Fir Tree Lodge

by Rachel Dove

  ‘Not seen you for a while Rebecca! How’s the café?’

  Francesca, the owner, had just been seeing a customer out as Rebecca had entered the shop, the tinkle of the bell making her feel instantly at home. It was like a front room, rather than a clothing shop. A sewing machine sat off to one corner, storage boxes full of ribbons, zips, and tiny pearl buttons.

  ‘Not bad,’ she said as the customer smiled and left, bags in hand. They were alone. ‘Except for my houseguest.’

  Fran’s eyes bulged, and her smirk was positively devilish. ‘I heard. Luke, isn’t it? How’s that going? You beaten him to death with a hand mixer yet?’ Her French accent curled her words beautifully. Even hand mixer sounded sexy when it rolled off her tongue. She was effortlessly chic, but not aware of it at all. She could turn heads as she entered a room, but she would be more interested in checking out the quality of the fabric in the curtains, and how a seam on a dress didn’t look right from across the room. Confident in her own skin, like most people were. Even Luke. He knew who he was, but he still wanted to push himself. That was the thing Rebecca missed. The impetus to try again, to care about getting a different outcome.

  ‘Not quite. He’s … interesting.’

  ‘Interesting? Explain. Oh, and I have a nice little outfit for you in the back. I’ve been saving it for when you came.’ She toddled off, raising a hand behind her at Rebecca. ‘Don’t worry either, it’s not from a designer. It’s off the rail. My rail, actually. I have a couple that would look great on you.’

  ‘How did you know I wanted some new clothes?’

  Francesca turned around on one heel, like a ballet dancer, and eyed her up close. Rebecca came to a screeching halt, colliding boob to boob with Fran, who didn’t flinch. ‘You came to me. I’ve seen him, you know, Holly showed me his photo. It didn’t take a genius to work out that your horrible sweatpants were suddenly going to be an issue.’

  ‘Hey! I don’t always dress like that.’ She totally did. ‘I don’t all the time, anyway.’

  ‘No,’ Fran countered. ‘The rest of the time you’re in your uniform. I’m right, yes?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Nightwear doesn’t count, Rebecca.’

  ‘Oh. Yes then.’ She followed her friend over to the rail of clothes, running her hand along the rainbow of different textures and fabrics. ‘You don’t have to give me a lecture you know. I get it.’

  Fran pulled out a long dress from the rail. It was a dark blue colour, but the fabric shimmered in the light. ‘This one’s for a night out, and I thought this one for Saturday.’

  Reaching further along the rail, she held out another dress. This one was cream, neat little blue flowers embroidered along the hems. It looked lovely, fresh and perfect for the shower. She didn’t even need to check the sizing. Fran had a hawk-eye for these things.

  ‘You going, on Saturday?’

  Fran nodded, taking out another outfit from the very back.

  ‘Yep, here’s mine.’ It was a lot brighter than the one she’d offered Rebecca, pastel colours giving way to vibrant tropical colours. The female equivalent of a Hawaiian shirt. ‘I must say, I am looking forward to meeting this Luke.’

  Rebecca blushed, taking the outfits from Fran and heading to the changing rooms to see how they looked. Fran would insist on it anyway, she never let anything leave her shop that looked and felt anything less than perfect. Rebecca thought about her baking and could relate.

  ‘He’s okay.’ Pulling the curtain shut behind her, she put the hangers on the peg in front of her and sat down for a second on the upholstered chair that sat in one corner of the changing room. Opposite, the full-length mirror looked back at her. She looked at the outfits on the rails, and back at herself. The dress had a little thigh split in the material, that gave it a sexier look. She’d not worn anything like that in such a long time. She wouldn’t have thought twice about it before, but now, it was all that she could think about. Once more, Rebecca realised that the life she had was gone forever, and looking back at herself, she brushed back the tears. Standing up, she tried the outfits on facing the wall. She never looked behind her or turned around. By the time she left the changing room, outfits in hand, she was perfectly shut down once more.

  *

  Open-mouthed in the mirror, looking like a fish gasping for air, Rebecca ran the wand up her lashes, almost poking herself straight in the retina when there was a loud knock at the door.

  ‘Luke, can you get that please? I’m just putting my shoes on.’ She pushed her feet into her favourite heels and grabbed her bag. The knock came again, but no Luke.

  ‘Luke, you here?’ She looked into the lounge but it was empty. His room door was closed. ‘Luke?’

  She headed to the door to the café downstairs, wrapping her long coat around her tightly and pulling the handle down as she threw her handbag strap over one shoulder. Luke was standing at the other side, flowers in hand.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi,’ she replied, looking from the flowers to him. He looked gorgeous. His glasses were off, his hair freshly washed and shiny. She could smell him, recognising the scent she’d been enveloped in using the bathroom after him. Soap, and his cologne. He hadn’t even touched her shampoo. ‘You really meant pick me up, didn’t you?’

  He grinned. ‘Yep, all out tonight. I wasn’t sure how we were going to get there, so I ordered a cab to be safe. Okay?’

  She nodded dumbly. ‘It’s the west-facing slopes we’re heading to. Not far. Nice flowers.’ They locked eyes for a moment, and her mouth went dry. He looked so good, so confident now.

  ‘Oh yes, sorry! These are for you,’ he said, offering them to her. ‘I hope you like them.’ They were beautiful, wrapped with ribbon and full of colour. As she leaned to get them, their fingers brushed each other’s and the jolt that ran through her confirmed what she already suspected. She was starting to fancy the pants off her dorky clumsy houseguest, and she was going to be spending a whole evening with him, on what looked like a very date-like non-date. ‘I just wanted to say thanks, for everything you’ve put up with. I’m happy to have met you Rebecca, I mean that.’ As he spoke, the two of them slowly gravitated closer. Had her hands not been full of flowers, she was pretty sure she would have snogged the lips off him. The butterflies in her stomach had changed into huge bats now, all jumping and flapping their wings off at the thought of her lips touching his. ‘I am happy to have been able to get to know you.’

  ‘Me too.’

  His eyebrows raised, and he moved closer, pushing the flowers tighter to her own chest, and his.

  ‘Really? Redeemed myself a bit, have I?’ She felt too drunk on his proximity to answer him clearly. It was like they were in a little bubble. ‘I’m glad. Actually I—’

  The toot of a horn broke the silence, and she turned to put the flowers in some water.

  ‘Cab’s here,’ she said unnecessarily. When she returned to the stairs, she could hear him outside talking to the driver. Smoothing her coat down around her, making sure she was covered, she headed down the stairs. Once more, he’d been cut off from what he wanted to say. It was getting harder to act like she didn’t care about what his back story was, why he was really here.

  *

  Pulling up at the restaurant, they could hear the people outside, sitting in the outdoor heated seating area, which ran around one side of the restaurant, drinking, eating and laughing. The neon sign lit up the place from above and cast rainbows across the snow around them. She opened the cab door, stepping out and drinking in the great outdoors. Rebecca would normally be holed up in her place right now, tinkering around by herself. She’d missed the adult life. She’d been living like a hermit a bit too long.

  ‘Nice place,’ Luke said behind her, pushing his wallet back into his pocket. The cab drove away.

  ‘How much for my half?’ She went for her purse, but he took her hand movement as something else and pushed his hand into hers. Linking his fingers over hers, he put his hand down, pul
ling hers down with it, her body moving closer till her arm brushed his.

  ‘Tonight is on me, no arguments.’ He smiled, lifting his hand to drop a kiss on the back of hers. The scratch of his bristle on her skin made her whole body fizz into life. ‘Let’s go get a drink.’

  They got a table pretty quickly. Mina behind the reservation desk smiled and waved them through. Rebecca smiled back, laughing when Mina made a ‘who’s the guy?’ face at her. It felt good to be seen out for a change – have a little banter with people she’d once spent a lot of time around. Mina had been on the circuit too, they’d bonded pretty quickly. She was one of the few people who didn’t bring Rebecca out in a cold sweat to socialise with. Not that she’d done much of that lately. As Mina seated them, Rebecca grabbed her hand. Mina drew her closer and wrapped her arms around her.

  ‘Sorry it’s been a while,’ she murmured, not looking at Luke. She could see in her peripheral that he was looking at the menu. ‘I’ve … no excuse.’

  Mina squeezed her hand, pulling away and pecking her on the cheek like she always did.

  ‘Er yeah, you do. Nothing to be sorry for. You’re here now, with …?’

  She turned her head to Luke, who put down the menu he was holding.

  ‘Luke Sommersby.’ He leaned forward, his dark blue shirt cuff brushing the table as he stood to offer her his hand.

  She took it, beaming at him. ‘Pleased to meet you Luke, Mina Huang.’

  His hand flopped a little, Mina having to lift hers to avoid them clanging to the table. His face paled.

  ‘Good God. You’re not, are you?’ He looked at her as though she were a microbe under a microscope. ‘You are! Pleased to meet you!’ He grabbed her hand tighter now, shaking it vigorously. ‘My dad loves you, you know.’ He turned to look at Rebecca like an excited meerkat. ‘Oh …’ He seemed to remember where they were, and Rebecca waited for it. Mina gave her a sneaky side look and she couldn’t help but smirk. ‘Sorry. Do forgive me. I do forget my manners sometimes.’

  He’d gone all Jane Austen now, brushing up on his etiquette. Rebecca wondered what he would look like in a wet white shirt. Having just jumped into the lake on his grounds to cool his hotness off. Well, more like fell off a horse straight into it. It was Luke, after all. He looked handsome tonight though too. He’d got himself some boots and a decent coat. His black trousers showed off his muscular legs, and the shirt was open at the collar. She could see a peek of chest.

  ‘Don’t be silly! I love your dad too, just for that!’ Mina put a hand around each of them and hugged them both to her. Rebecca looked across at Luke, and he was looking back at her. The place was lively, people having fun, but he only seemed to notice her. ‘Lovely to see you guys!’ Mina released them both in front of a table, and whirled off, muttering about letting them have time to look at the menus. They were both still standing melded to each other. Luke recovered first, wrapping one arm around her back and guiding her to her chair. He pulled it back for her, and she realised that she was still wearing her coat. Luke had put his on the back of his chair. Swallowing hard, she unbuttoned it.

  She felt his hands take her coat from her, and she took her seat. His fingers brushed her shoulder as he pushed her coat onto the back of the chair she was clinging to. He was at his seat then, and once more she had to wrench herself out of the bubble and into real life.

  ‘You look gorgeous,’ he said, and the bubble was back.

  They ordered burgers, huge doorstops of coloured buns encasing beef and cheese. The place was well known for it, and the locals were loyal to the place. It wasn’t that the tourists didn’t love it, half the time it was a struggle trying to get a seat. It was just relaxed, the kind of place families loved in the daytime and the perfect spot for friends to talk and hang out in the evening … and eat. They did a lot of both. Sides of fried pickles and tiny chicken sliders, French fries loaded with salt and vinegar. Luke ordered a pitcher of lager, and he raised his glass to her.

  ‘To an accident-free evening.’

  ‘Ha!’ She clinked her glass against his, laughing. ‘It’s not over yet.’

  ‘True,’ he said ruefully. ‘So far so good though. Not bad for a first date either. This food is amazing.’

  Rebecca choked on her pickle. ‘Date?’

  He passed her a napkin, and she took it to cover her mouth.

  ‘Yeah, well. To practise for Saturday.’ Oh, great. I’m a pity plus one. Nice. ‘So, yes actually, a date.’ He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she almost keeled over as butterflies fluttered away in her stomach, followed by a side of nausea as she brushed away what those butterflies might mean.

  ‘I am glad I have someone to carry all that stuff with me,’ she deflected. ‘A date is a small price to pay for some muscle.’ He flexed his arms at her, accidentally sticking the French fry he was holding straight into the ear of a diner at the other table. ‘Oh! Sorry mate!’ He patted the bloke on the shoulder, and the diner waved him off, seeing the funny side. Next to him, his girlfriend was in hysterics, trying not to spray burger everywhere. Luke looked across at Rebecca, who was trying not to laugh herself. ‘What is wrong with me?’ he said, aghast. He was genuinely asking, and Rebecca reached for his hand. She could feel her stomach and shoulders tense up with the pressure of not laughing in his face.

  ‘It’s fine,’ she said, stroking the back of his hand with her fingers. ‘They laughed. Just maybe keep the guns away in enclosed spaces.’ She flexed her own arm muscle at him, gurning. As she made eye contact with the girlfriend of the chip ear guy, the two women grinned at each other. A shared moment, laughing at their dates. It felt nice. Normal.

  ‘You’re a bit of a nutter when you relax, aren’t you?’ He was stroking his thumb along hers now, eating fries between sentences. ‘I bet you’ve seen some things up here, too.’ She had, there was no denying that. She’d also seen and been through some things she wished dearly she hadn’t but that was life. It laughed at your plans and threw a stick into the spokes of your passing bike, whilst you were riding off into the sunset, thinking your dreams were about to be achieved. Life was a little shit sometimes.

  ‘I sure have. Some sights to see around here, shame I’ll never tell you. You glad you came?’

  She let go of him reluctantly to finish her food, and his hand flexed when her touch left his. He left it there a moment, before picking up a piece of burger.

  ‘Well, this burger alone was worth the terrifying plane ride. And freezing my arse off all the way here. Yeah, it’s been good. Different. I think I needed to do it. Tomorrow Hans is going to teach me how to ski.’

  ‘Oh?’ She acted nonchalant, eating as demurely as she could with her hands, trying not to panic at the thought of Luke being scraped off the side of a mountain with a cat litter pooper scooper size of a shovel. He’d almost taken out a bloke with a chip, so what hope did he have of surviving unscathed, especially with Hans as a teacher? The man could ski, but he was mountain-sized himself. When Game of Thrones had come out, people had started asking if he was one of the characters. He’d liked it at first, but it had soon worn thin. He looked like a giant on toothpicks on a pair of skis, and if he fell, which was rare, he bounced – and took a chunk out of whatever had broken his fall, be it snow, wood, or rock. If Luke fell, he would shatter like an ornamental glass unicorn. She shuddered at the thought, and he reached for her hand once more.

  ‘You cold?’ he asked, every inch the concerned date. It made her heart swell. ‘My coat’s pretty good. I am reluctant for you to cover up though, you do look nice.’ Even with the lighting, she could see his cheeks redden. She leaned forward, squeezing his hand and pushing herself to be bold enough to hold his eye.

  ‘You don’t look so bad yourself. I think this is the best date I’ve ever had.’

  ‘Wow! That was brutal timing, as always. Must be our thing.’ A deep voice startled them both. ‘You always did know how to get to me. I do beg to differ though. That night on Whistler Mountain was pretty epic, I thou
ght. And it involved a lot less clothing. And people. Hi, Becks.’

  Standing by the table, pushing into their bubble of ignorance, was Robbie Goulding. Best date ever, Rebecca. You said it. You jinxed it.

  ‘Canada, eh? Nice,’ Luke drawled, his voice neutral. ‘We shall have to add it to the list, honey.’ He didn’t pull his hand away from hers, and she felt his grip tighten a little. He looked Robbie up and down, and Rebecca couldn’t do anything but look at Luke. Her throat had completely closed up. She couldn’t speak if she wanted to. It felt like seeing him had frozen her whole body. All she could feel was the fast thud of her heart in her ears, her face aflame, and Luke’s gentle and comforting touch. He was circling his thumb around her palm, and it was the only thing keeping her in her seat.

  ‘I’m Luke, pleased to meet you.’ He didn’t move to shake Robbie’s hand, and he didn’t even look at him. He kept moving his thumb, and his gaze was now set on Rebecca. Robbie’s smile dimmed, standing there in his designer clothes and gelled hair. The man didn’t know what to do. From the corner of her eye, she saw his feet start to shuffle.