‘What is it?’
‘I’m proud of you, Mummy. You’ve done your best and that’s all we can hope for. If you’ve done your best then you should hold your head up high.’
Out of the mouths of babes… I’ve told her that countless times. It’s so nice to have some good words thrown back at me for a change.
‘Thank you. I’m proud of us all. Remember what the house looked like when we arrived? Now look at it. Aunt Kate will be proud of us too. We’ll serve Rupert and his family their Christmas dinner and see them on their way tomorrow.’
‘I’ll be glad to see the back of them,’ she says. ‘They’re eating us out of house and home.’
That’s Celine’s favourite expression. At least I’m not the only one on Mabel’s greatest hits list.
I send her into the kitchen to see how Danny is getting on so that I can set the table for lunch. With a few pine boughs woven between the candles and the sparkling glasses and silverware, it looks quite festive by the time I’m finished. I just need the Christmas crackers.
There are about a hundred in the cabinet under the stairs in the hall, but I have to crawl in to get them.
‘Do you need a hand?’
Hugo stands behind me, making me very aware that my head is in the cabinet and my arse is in the hall.
‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’
‘You look fine from here.’
I back out, shuffling the boxes of crackers as I go. ‘How are Amanda and Oliver? Happy again?’
Reminding him that he’s fathered two children with Prunella should dampen his lust.
‘There’s no long-term damage. Here, let me help you with those.’ He takes the boxes from me.
Fine, whatever. ‘Thanks. I’ll just set the table and then we’re nearly ready for…’
He stops in the middle of the hall.
‘Is something wrong?’
I stop too.
He shifts the boxes to one hand and points at the ceiling. ‘Happy Christmas,’ he says.
You’ve got to be kidding me. We’re standing under the mistletoe that Danny hung to add a festive finishing touch for our guests’ first impression. Clearly it’s made an impression on Hugo.
‘I have to finish laying the table,’ I say. ‘I’ll take those. Thanks.’
And I’ll get Danny to take the mistletoe down too. If I had a ladder I’d snatch it from the ceiling there and then.
The beef stew actually smells delicious. It might not win Danny any culinary awards for presentation, and is maybe an odd choice for Christmas lunch, but at least we’ve got something to serve Rupert.
They’ve downed a pitcher of cocktails by the time they pull their Christmas crackers. Maybe keeping the guests drunk is the way to garner positive reviews.
I’m standing slumped against the fridge watching Danny microwave the Christmas pudding.
‘Are you sure it’s all right to do that?’ I ask.
‘There isn’t much choice. It would need to steam for an hour and I forgot to start it before we served lunch. Besides, I looked it up on Google.’
‘My Mum never microwaved it.’
‘That’s because Celine did the cooking, right?’
‘You don’t have to be mean about it, you know.’
His eyebrows shoot up. ‘I wasn’t trying to be mean. Didn’t Celine do the cooking? That’s what you told me.’
‘Mum also cooked.’
‘Then I stand corrected. I’m sorry… why are you so sensitive when I mention Celine?’
‘I’m not,’ I say, sensitively. ‘I just don’t need anyone judging me, that’s all.’
‘The last thing I’d do is judge you, Lottie. Come on. You’re a single mum who’s had a pretty shitty couple of years. If anything I’m jealous that you have Celine. And I admire you.’
The blush creeps up my cheeks. He admires me!
‘Thanks, Danny. You’re pretty admirable yourself, you know, the way you’re devoted to your daughter. A lot of men don’t bother.’
‘I’m sorry about Mabel’s father, Lottie, but not all men are shitbags. I hope you do know that.’
‘Well I haven’t had much exposure to men, shitbags or otherwise, since Mabel was born, so I’ll have to take your word for it.’
Danny is beginning to restore my confidence though. If I were Phoebe’s mother, I wouldn’t have moved away.
The microwave pings and the moment passes.
I grab the brandy bottle and follow Danny to the dining room for our grand finale.
‘Is everyone ready?’ I say, holding the match over the booze-soaked pudding. I always loved this part of Christmas lunch when Dad would set our pudding alight, sending mum into a fit of giggles every time.
I touch the match to the top of the pudding and it whooshes into blue flames that race down the sides.
Then they race around the plate.
Then they begin racing across the linen tablecloth, following the trail of brandy I’ve accidentally sloshed there.
‘Look, Mummy, it’s like bonfire night,’ says Amanda, remarkably calm for someone witnessing a house fire.
It takes only seconds for the flames to take hold.
‘Get some water!’ Hugo shouts, pulling his family away from the table.
I dash to the kitchen for a pot of water, but by the time I get back, Danny is already there, pulling the pin on the fire extinguisher.
‘I don’t think we need—’
But it’s too late. He aims the nozzle and shoots a white cloud of retardant all over Christmas lunch.
The fire is out. As is any possibility of pudding.
‘We’ll just go into the parlour,’ Rupert says. ‘Maybe we’ll have our coffee in there?’
On the plus side, at least we don’t need to worry about keeping everyone out of the dining room when the 8.30 train passes.
‘I guess I overreacted,’ Danny says, tucking his mobile phone away. He was talking to his daughter when I came upon him in the conservatory. I was embarrassed to catch him in such an intimate conversation, but his tone was so tender that I thought once again what a lucky little girl she is.
‘Better safe than sorry, I guess. Aunt Kate wouldn’t thank us if we burned her house down.’
He laughs. ‘This has been the Fawlty Towers of Christmases. But it could have been worse.’
I raise my eyebrow. ‘Not much worse.’
‘Well at least we tried, and you can’t do more than that.’ He glances at my surprised expression. ‘Sorry, I was being a dad. It’s just something I say to Phoebe.’
‘I say it to Mabel, too.’
For a moment we look at each other, possibly recognising our common bond as single parents. And maybe, I dare to hope, maybe just a little bit more.
‘You’ll want a ride over to the hospital,’ he says. ‘I’ll drive you.’
And suddenly I’m just his employer again.
There’s a lot of activity around Aunt Kate’s bed when we arrive. Two nurses are there with Dr Lonergan. My heartbeat quickens. Something is wrong.
‘Dr Lonergan, what’s happening?’
When she smiles, relief washes over me. It’s good news.
‘We discontinued the medication this afternoon and your aunt is coming around. We’re just assessing her to make sure she’s able to follow commands. Everything looks good.’
‘Is she awake enough to know that we’re here?’
‘Why don’t you ask her yourself?’ she says, putting Aunt Kate’s chart back into the slot at the end of her bed. ‘We’re finished now, so we can leave you in peace. Happy Christmas!’
‘Thank you for everything you’ve done.’ I pull her into a hug.
‘It’s my pleasure,’ she says. ‘I love a happy ending.’
Mabel and I bring the two grey plastic chairs close to Aunt Kate’s bed. Maybe it’s because she’s sleeping instead of comatose, or because she no longer has the breathing mask over her face, or maybe it’s my imagination now that I know the drugs have b
een stopped, but she looks different, better and more alive.
‘Aunt Kate? It’s Lottie.’
‘And Mabel.’
‘Today’s Christmas Day, Aunt Kate, and the doctor says you’re doing really well. That’s the best gift in the world for us. Things are still fine at the B&B. Everyone had a nice dinner.’
There’s no need to mention the need for the Fire Brigade.
‘And Danny took them for a walk earlier. I think they’ve had a nice time.’
Best to keep the coal cellar incident quiet too.
‘They’ll leave early tomorrow morning and we can get back to normal and start looking forward to when you can come home.’
There’s a bit of gloom on the horizon too though. It’s not just the reviewer who’ll leave tomorrow. Danny has honoured our arrangement. Tomorrow he’ll fulfil his promise and I’ll have no reason to see him again.
‘Can you hear me, Aunt Kate?’
‘Her eyelids moved, Mummy! Did you see?’
‘I did see!’
I feel my eyes fill with tears. Aunt Kate really is coming back to us.
Chapter Thirteen
Everyone is up early on Boxing Day, getting ready to make their escape back to London after breakfast. Danny’s handiwork on the drains ensured there were no more smelly plumbing surprises and I even dare to hope the guests might get away without further incident.
The twins had one more go at the parlour, pulling everything off the shelves before Hugo got them strapped into the car. They’ll probably grow into decent adults but, to quote Mabel quoting me, I’m definitely glad to see the back of them.
‘So,’ I say to Rupert as he hands me his room key. ‘I do hope you enjoyed your stay with us. I’m sorry that there were a few… difficulties but I hope that won’t affect Aunt Kate’s rating.’
He knows I’m being cheeky but I’ve got nothing left to lose.
‘It was an interesting visit. Please do thank your aunt for inviting us. I’ll be submitting my review in early January when I’m back from holiday.’
‘Oh, are you going somewhere nice for New Year’s?’
He nods. ‘I’m flying to Tanzania tomorrow. Alone.’
I smile. ‘I understand completely. It’s not always easy having family around.’
‘Some families are easier than others. Most families are easier than mine.’
True as that is, I get the feeling I’m not supposed to agree with him. ‘So, the rating then… could you give me a hint about how it went?’
He peers over the pile of cases he’s trying to wedge into the overfilled boot. ‘Well, I wasn’t fooled by your Victorian theme. It was pretty clear you were bluffing by the time the peanut butter sandwiches came out, but I liked that you carried on with the theme in the face of complete implausibility. You’re clearly very good at handling difficult guests. Frankly I’d have kicked Hugo in the bollocks and gone straight to my sister, so you showed remarkable restraint.’
He wouldn’t think so if he knew I’d bitten his brother-in-law.
‘The food was interesting…’ he continues.
‘It didn’t turn out quite like I’d imagined.’
‘Locking the children in the coal cellar when you were meant to be minding them certainly wasn’t clever.’
I can only nod in agreement. I feel like the worst innkeeper in Britain. Maybe there’s a rating for that. Given how hard I worked to honour the title, I may as well win something.
‘And I’ve never seen a host set their dining table on fire before.’
The twins did think that was pretty cool though, so we should get some points for entertainment.
‘But at the end of the day I came here to assess the B&B, which your aunt owns and runs. Presumably she runs it better than you.’
Ouch.
‘It’s definitely not perfect and she needs to sort out her plumbing before the health inspectors shut her down. As a B&B this is a reasonable business and does meet enough of our standards to warrant the rating.’
‘Really?! That’s wonderful, thank you so much!’ I launch myself on Rupert.
‘Ehem, yes, well, you’re welcome.’
‘Phew. I didn’t think you were going to give it to us.’
The tiniest of smiles plays around his lips. ‘Prunella doesn’t like to admit it but our Granny’s house looked a lot like this. It was draughty and a bit run down but the weekends I spent there as a child, lying in front of the fire in the parlour and eating Granny’s cakes each teatime are some of my happiest memories. Your aunt has a special place here.’ He brushes himself off and clears his throat. ‘And as I said, most of the faults were because of you, not the B&B per se... you’re not thinking of staying on to run it, are you?’
I shake my head. ‘No, I’ll go back to software programming where I belong.’
‘That’s best for all concerned.’
Mabel, Danny and I wave them off just before noon.
‘That’s that then,’ says Danny as they pull out of sight.
Yes, it is, unless I do something fast.
‘Do you know, I could use help taking down some of the decorations. I can’t reach them without the ladder and don’t want to climb up without someone holding it. Could you spare another half hour or so?’
I know I’m being ridiculous, playing the helpless female to draw out my time with Danny. My inner feminist is hanging her head in shame. I just don’t want to see him go yet.
He wrestles the ladder in from outside and sets it up against the first window in the hall. ‘Do you want to climb up or hold the ladder?’
‘I’d better climb,’ I say. ‘I’m not sure I could catch you if you fell off.’
‘You’ve got a lot of faith in me.’
I pluck the pine boughs from the top of the valance and drop them on the floor. ‘We got the rating you know.’
‘You are joking!’ he says. ‘What were his criteria? Missing persons and pyrotechnics?’
I climb down and let him carry the ladder to the next window. Then I pull down more boughs, smiling as the pine scent washes over me.
‘He said he appreciated our efforts,’ I tell him. ‘Even though he didn’t buy the Victorian theme.’
‘That reminds me. I never did get my socks back.’
‘Sorry about that. I noticed Hugo packing them in the car and didn’t think that was the time to tell him his children’s Christmas stockings had come off your feet.’
We move to the last window.
‘They were such a weird family,’ he says.
He doesn’t know the half of it. ‘Rupert is going to Tanzania tomorrow, alone.’
‘I don’t blame him. I’d rather take my chances out in the bush with lions than spend any more time with Prunella.’
The last of the boughs hits the floor. ‘That’s all of them.’
I climb down.
‘What about the mistletoe?’
It hangs there in the middle of the hall, an unwanted reminder of Hugo’s attentions.
Danny positions the ladder beneath it, and puts his hands on either side of me so that I can climb up.
‘Lottie? Wait a minute. There’s something I-’
As I turn to face him, his warm lips meet mine. They’re so perfectly soft but a little bit urgent that I know I want to stay in exactly this position for a very long time.
‘Well we must have done something right,’ he murmurs as we break off our kiss.
‘Maybe they just loved your food.’
‘Very funny.’
‘No really, it wasn’t bad. Although I wouldn’t bother buying you expensive ingredients again.’
‘Next time you can cook your own food.’
‘I think we’ve established that I can’t do that.’
‘Then for both our sakes, I’d better take you out to dinner.’
We kiss again under the mistletoe.
Danny drives us to the hospital that afternoon as usual. But instead of sitting in the back seat, I sit up front so
I can hold his hand between gear changes. Every time I look in the rear view mirror I catch Mabel’s grin.
‘We’ll be two hours,’ I tell Danny.
‘Okay, I’ll run home quickly, but I’ll be here waiting when you get out.’
‘Just like you were the first day.’
He smiles and kisses me again. ‘Some things are worth waiting for.’
‘Danny, there’ll be plenty of time for that later,’ Mabel says. ‘Right now we need to see Aunt Kate.’
I shrug. ‘She’s seven going on seventeen.’
‘She’s her mother’s daughter. See you soon.’
‘Aunt Kate, you’re awake!’ Mabel says when we get to her room. ‘We’ve got so much to tell you!’
‘Hello, love.’ She pats the mattress beside her.
‘Careful, Mabel,’ I warn. ‘How are you feeling?’
I take my aunt’s hand.
‘I feel like I’ve been run down by a lorry, but it’s better than the alternative. I gather I’ve been sleeping for a while.’
‘Five days. The doctor has been great.’
She nods. ‘She must have figured there’s some life left in these old bones yet.’
‘Mummy has a boyfriend,’ Mabel says.
Aunt Kate peers at me. ‘Does she now?’
Mabel nods. ‘His name is Danny and he’s our cook but not really our cook. He’s also our taxi driver. But not really that, either. He’s really our friend. That’s right, isn’t it, Mummy?’
‘That’s right. There’s a lot to tell you, Aunt Kate, but most importantly, the reviewer loved the B&B and he’s going to give you the rating you need.’
‘Oh that is wonderful news! So everything went well then?’
‘Except for the fire,’ says Mabel.
‘Like I said, there’s a lot to tell you. Are you tired though? We can always talk more tomorrow.’
‘Don’t you dare leave, Lottie. I want to hear every detail. Especially about this boyfriend of yours.’
Aunt Kate is mightily impressed with our ingenuity at the B&B. I try glossing over some of the gorier details but Mabel is a stickler for the whole truth, not to mention a very observant little girl who seemed to know that Danny and I liked each other before we realised it ourselves.
The Reluctant Elf (Kindle Single) Page 8
