Christmas at the Falling-Down Guesthouse

by Lilly Bartlett

  ‘I’m talking about you.’

  I blush, thinking I should wear this dress more often. Despite a few extra Crimbo pounds stretching the mushroom-coloured fabric a bit, it’s like catnip for exes. ‘Ah well, then. Thank you.’ He’s manhandling me around the floor. ‘You don’t have to lead quite so much, you know. I do know how to follow.’

  He laughs. ‘You? I doubt that. You’ve never followed anyone in your life.’ Around we go again. ‘Listen. I’d better go back to Jemima. I wouldn’t want to upset a lady.’

  ‘Then stay and dance with me or you’ll upset this lady.’

  But he’s dancing me to the edge of the floor. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, I’d love to but I’m, erm, otherwise engaged tonight.’

  His words hit me in the solar plexus. ‘You’re getting off with Jemima?! I don’t believe it!’

  He grins. ‘Technically, the getting off has already gotten off. I guess that makes this our second date.’

  ‘But you only met her last night!’

  He shrugs. ‘What can I say? I work fast. Hey!’ he says when I punch him in the shoulder. ‘That hurt!’

  ‘Good, it was meant to. How could you get off with my cousin? Doesn’t that seem a bit in bad taste to you?’ As if Nadia the Russian doll wasn’t bad enough.

  He seems to consider my question. ‘Why are you surprised that I like her? Look at her. She’s like you, but better – softer.’

  Ouch. ‘It’s because we look alike? That’s so shallow. And she’s not like me at all. She’s horrible.’

  ‘You’re one to talk, Carol. She has nothing but nice things to say about you. You assassinated her last night, remember? She doesn’t seem the type to do that to you.’

  ‘You know what? I’m really disappointed in you.’ I cringe as I realise I sound like Mum. ‘You’re not the person I thought you were. You’re cold. You’re calculating. And… and you’re mean. Honestly, I don’t know what I ever saw in you.’

  He stares at me. ‘Why Carol, sweetheart, you know the answer perfectly well… You saw yourself.’ And with that, he goes off to dance with Miss Low-GI.

  I’m shaking when I get to the loo. As I stand in front of the mirror, I examine myself for signs of truth in Karl’s words. Luckily, the cubicles are empty so there’s no one to witness my meltdown. Tears leak from my eyes, threatening my mascara. Of course it’s not waterproof. I don’t need waterproof. I don’t cry. Damn allergies.

  I’m not cold and calculating, am I? I’m just restrained. I am English, after all. That’s perfectly normal. So I’m restrained… and maybe a little fastidious. But that doesn’t make me controlling just because I like to make sure things are perfect. I’m a restrained, tasteful, fastidious perfectionist.

  Oh God, I am just like him. I wait for the shock of this realisation to hit me, but it doesn’t. Because I’ve been kidding myself. Don’t I already know we’re alike? Of course I do. It’s the very reason I like him. The problem is, now that I see it, I’m not so sure I like me.

  Chapter Ten

  I won’t say my revelation ruined the wedding for me last night, but I didn’t exactly feel like cutting loose when I got back to the party. Worst of all, I couldn’t even blame Karl for my mood (though I still blamed him for bonking my cousin). He just held up the mirror. I’m responsible for what it shows me.

  How ironic that I dreaded seeing Robert this weekend, when it was Karl who kicked the stool out from under me. In fact, Robert has been nothing but nice, not the monster I built him up to be.

  As my eye falls on his gift, curiosity wins out over laziness. Reluctantly, I leave my bed to retrieve it from the desk where I stashed it yesterday. He definitely wrapped it himself. Its crooked paper is held together with half a roll of Sellotape. I turn it over, shaking it. No rattling.

  Using my cuticle scissors to cut open the paper, I slide the small box out. I was right. It is a sunglasses box, though I didn’t think anyone bought Ray-Bans after about 1987.

  It isn’t a pair of sunglasses, though. Carefully, I unfold the white silk scarf to reveal the gorgeous golden link pattern along its edge, set with turquoise and royal blue gems. Vintage Chanel, circa 1975. I feel a lump rise in my throat. Robert knows how much I love beautiful couture. It’s perfect. I tie it around my neck and look in the mirror. Absolutely perfect. Now I’m completely confused. I thought I put these feelings safely away.

  The commotion building to a crescendo in the hallway tells me that it’s later than I thought. Most of us are going home today and already the Great Migration is underway. A welcome distraction.

  Just as I step from the shower there’s a knock at my door. ‘Hang on!’ I shout through the stout wood. ‘I’m just getting dressed.’

  ‘It’s only me,’ Marley shouts back.

  ‘Oh, come in then.’ When I unlock the door she runs past me to the window. ‘It’s horrible! Look!’ She yanks open the heavy brocade curtains. Sunlight streams into the room.

  I join her at the window, squinting into the brightness. ‘What are you talking about? It’s beautiful.’

  The snow must have continued through the night. The trees have been dressed in sparkling white down jackets and a thick blanket covers the sloping lawn, unbroken by even a footprint. The wooden benches beside the pond and the hedges are only snowy mounds. I can’t even see where the driveway was… Oh.

  ‘I’m sure the ploughs will be here soon.’ Although the whole world looks frozen solid.

  ‘Soon enough for us to make our flights tomorrow?’

  ‘You’ve got travel insurance, right?’

  ‘Carol!’ She throws herself on the bed. ‘Now you’ve jinxed us! And no, we haven’t got insurance. I didn’t think we’d need it.’ She fluffs up my pillow so that it’s more to her liking. ‘I’ll be so depressed if we can’t go on honeymoon.’

  ‘The important thing is that you’re married.’

  ‘No, the important thing yesterday was that I’m married. The important thing today is that we get to Heathrow for our flight to the Maldives.’

  ‘Give me five minutes and I’ll come down with you and see what’s going on. I expect the roads will all be clear by this afternoon.’

  But Scotland’s snow ploughs don’t seem to bend to an English girl’s expectations. They need drivers willing to work on the Sunday after Christmas. This, it seems, isn’t high on most people’s agendas.

  Dad is talking to Mrs Campbell. ‘Well, how long does it usually take for the roads around here to be cleared?’

  ‘Och, it’s hard to say. These farm roads leading back to the A roads are usually clear in two or three days, longer in special circumstances.’

  Her look tells me which circumstance she thinks this is.

  I pull Dad aside. ‘Most people need to catch flights today. Including Marley and Jez, to get back to London for tomorrow. She’s going to have a meltdown if they miss their honeymoon.’

  ‘Well, at least nobody’ll get chucked out into the snow. Mrs Campbell says we can stay in our rooms here until the roads clear. So we may as well have a nice lunch and not worry about it.’

  While it’s comforting to know we won’t have to bed down in the snow, he’s missing the point. Mother Nature doesn’t get to decide when we can go home.

  ‘Mrs Campbell,’ I say. ‘When do you think the main roads will be clear? The A roads, I mean.’

  ‘Oh, they’re very good about that. They should be right as rain by tomorrow.’

  ‘So we just need to get to the main road and everything will be fine. That’s, what, maybe five miles away?’

  ‘Miss, there’s nearly two feet of snow on the ground. What are you going to do, snowshoe out with yer luggage?’

  Visions of Granny on a sledge pop into my mind. ‘Actually… I do have one idea.’

  An hour later I’m sitting smugly in the ballroom, which is doubling as the restaurant. I’ve already told the family about the plan and word is spreading fast. Auntie Lou is more efficient than the World Wide Web.

&nbs
p; My boss won’t be happy about me missing work tomorrow. I’ve got about eight thousand things to do before everyone bunks off for New Year’s Eve. I could hang out the window and make a few calls tomorrow, but thanks to the bank’s security, I couldn’t get to the files I need even if I had WiFi. They won’t give their employees remote access to the bank’s servers, so I couldn’t work even if there was an open internet cafe within snowshoeing distance.

  My relative calm surprises me. A week ago I probably would have chartered a helicopter to take me back to London. Missing work would have been unforgiveable. More importantly, I wouldn’t have wanted to miss it. But as I look around the room at my family, I’m grateful for the extra day with them. Even pervy Uncle Frank. When was the last time we were all together like this? I remember. It was at Granddad’s funeral just after I started with the bank. I didn’t want to be there, and not just because there was a dead guy in the room. I was in the middle of writing my first research note, working fifteen-hour days to get it done. It was an incredible buzz and in comparison, my family seemed like an impediment. I’m embarrassed I thought that about people I love.

  So sod work. My boss and Nadia and the research notes will still be there on Tuesday. Right now, this – my family, my life outside the office cubicle – is more important.

  ‘Carol.’ Marley taps me on the shoulder, interrupting this epiphany. ‘I think most people are here now. Do you want to tell them what’s going on?’

  I’m getting used to being my sister’s spokesperson. ‘Excuse me,’ I shout over the din. ‘You’ve probably noticed the snow outside and are wondering how you’re going to get home without Father Christmas’s sleigh. There’s good news and bad news. Which do you want first?’

  Their shouted responses neatly divide the room into optimists and pessimists.

  ‘All right, the bad news is that there’s no way out of here today.’ The room erupts. ‘But there’s good news!’ I shout. ‘Because of the snow the airport is closed today anyway, and we can get out of here tomorrow morning, so nobody will miss their rescheduled flights.’

  Marley jabs me in the ribs. ‘Tell them how.’

  ‘Yes, all right, I’m coming to that. Mrs Campbell says the snow ploughs won’t get to the farm roads for a few days, but she’s got family connections with snow-clearing equipment.’ I just needed to offer them the equivalent of a month’s rent to persuade them to use it. ‘As you can see, it’s snowing again, but it’s supposed to stop tonight. The ploughs can clear the way for the coaches to leave tomorrow morning. Luckily, the drivers got snowed in here yesterday, eh?’ I raise my teacup to the drivers, who’ve settled in as if they’re part of the family. We’ll have to invite them next Christmas. ‘So everyone can relax and enjoy another day here.’

  ‘What’s this?’ Karl says to Marley, arriving with Jemima in tow. He sheepishly looks away when he catches my eye. I don’t blame him. He must know I haven’t quite finished with him.

  When Marley explains the situation I wait for his reaction. The only person I know who works harder than I do is Karl. He stares at her for a moment. Here it comes. He’s going to try to charter that helicopter, I just know it. He got stuck in Gibraltar when the Icelandic volcano erupted a few years ago and Marley had to hire him a boat to get back.

  But instead he shrugs. ‘Well, I’d ask my secretary to let everyone know, but she’s on holiday.’

  Marley smirks. ‘For the next two weeks, Karl, you’re on your own.’

  He smiles, glancing quickly at Jemima. ‘Not quite.’

  Well, that was fast work.

  ‘Karl, can I talk to you for a sec?’ I force my voice bright and breezy.

  We walk to the empty library. ‘Please sit down,’ I say. He looks as if I’m about to tell him the test results are positive.

  I take a deep breath. ‘I owe you a huge apology.’

  He looks shocked. ‘No, I owe you–’

  ‘Please let me finish before you say anything. I owe you an apology for getting so angry last night. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t like Jemima just because she’s never been my cup of tea. I may not understand her. And I think she’s insane sometimes. She never gets her facts straight, she’s obsessed with everything Mummy says and I swear she–’

  I catch Karl’s expression. ‘Right. But anyway, it doesn’t matter what I think of her. If you like her, I’m happy for you. I really am.’

  He waits.

  ‘Now I’m finished,’ I tell him.

  ‘Thank you, but I’m the one who should be saying sorry. I was a complete dick to you, ending things without an explanation. The truth is, I didn’t want to jeopardise my relationship with Marley. I was afraid if I told you the truth you’d hate me and somehow then Marley would hate me too. And quite aside from the fact that I consider her a friend, you know I wouldn’t last a month without her. It was self-preservation that made me act like an arse. I’m sorry.’

  I shift my gaze out the window, where the snow is slowly falling. ‘Why did you suddenly stop calling? As long as we’re talking now, you may as well tell me.’

  He smiles. ‘You’re a wonderful woman, Carol–’

  ‘Oh god, are you giving me the break-up speech now?’

  ‘Well, you wanted an explanation. I suppose I could type you an email but that seems overly formal given that we’re both sitting here.’

  ‘Plus, it might never get sent with the reception in this place.’

  ‘So I’d better man up and tell you in person. I meant what I said last night about us being alike. And, as you know, I think I’m the dog’s bollocks, so that’s a compliment to you. However. You’re not the easiest person to reach. You’re calm and cool, and that’s great, but it can seem a little distant. I… without… This is hard to say with you looking at me.’

  ‘Do you want me to turn around so you can tell the back of my head?’

  ‘All right, I’ll just say it. You’re great to have a laugh with, but you’re not girlfriend material. I’ve never seen you just let go. As you know, I’m not the most emotional of men, but you’re the ice queen next to me. You actually scare me sometimes with your composure. When I go out with someone I want her to have at least a few emotions.’

  ‘Then you’ve overshot the mark there with Jemima. She cries with guilt when she has to cut her vegetables.’

  He shrugs. ‘I admire that.’

  ‘Then don’t complain to me when she wants you to join her for the Druids Annual Vegan Ball.’

  ‘You see? That’s what I mean. You make everything a joke instead of letting people see that you’re human. You don’t have to be so damn hard all the time.’ He takes my hand and, to my surprise, I don’t feel a thing. How ironic given the conversation. ‘We’re friends, aren’t we?’

  I nod.

  ‘Then why, after knowing each other for years, would you still be so detached with me, or with Marley or anyone else? It’s not going to hurt to show some emotion you know.’

  ‘You don’t know that,’ I say more forcefully than I mean to.

  He sighs. ‘I know Robert hurt you. I can’t fix that for you, but as your friend I’m telling you that you need to fix it yourself.’

  But it wasn’t Robert who broke me. My emotions were sealed up long before he came along.

  It seems that Skate isn’t the only one with unfinished business around here.

  Chapter Eleven

  I don’t have to go looking for Skate because it turns out he’s been looking for me. He rushes over as soon as he sees I’ve finished talking to Mrs Campbell after lunch. True to her word, she’s arranged for her brother and a bunch of his mates to plough us out of here tomorrow. Marley and Jez will need to buy some beachy clothes in Terminal Five, and to make room in her suitcase she’s shifted most of the winter wear into mine, but at least they’ll make their honeymoon flight.

  ‘We’re all set to go tomorrow,’ I tell Skate as we stand awkwardly in the empty hallway.

  ‘I wouldn’t mind being stranded
here for a few more days. It’s magical. Like that time in uni.’

  The memory makes me smile now. At the time I was less pleased. Skate convinced me to go with him to a holiday camp in Scotland. I wasn’t keen on any weekend plans involving the word ‘camp’, especially in January, but he promised that we’d stay in a solid, warm cabin. What he neglected to tell me was that about ten other people were staying with us. There was a severe cold spell across the country that stalled the trains and we ended up stuck there nearly a week. I wouldn’t call it magical, but it did turn out to be fun, if a bit whiffy by the end of the stay.

  Skate snatches my hand and I smile like ex-boyfriends always do this. ‘I’m glad we finally have a chance to talk, because there’s something really important I have to say to you. God, I’m nervous!’

  ‘Why would you be nervous? It’s only me.’

  He’s making me nervous.

  ‘I know. That’s just it. It is you. Carol, you know how I feel about you, right? I mean, you know I’ve always thought you are amazing. And I wasn’t happy with the way things ended, but I didn’t feel I could say anything to you, because you needed to cut off for a while.’

  ‘Oh well, that’s all so far in the past, I’ve nearly forgotten it.’ I don’t like where this conversation is going.

  ‘But I haven’t. You’ve always been in my heart, Carol. I don’t expect you to feel the same way, but I hope that at least you love me as a friend again?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ I say seriously. ‘Skate, I’ve always loved you.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear that. You have no idea how glad… You’ve been my litmus test all these years. I hold up every woman I meet to you and think, Is she as great as Carol?’

  Uh-oh. We’re back on dangerous ground. ‘Skate, maybe we shouldn’t–’

  ‘Please, let me finish. If I don’t say this now, I’ll chicken out.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I’ve been nervous about seeing you ever since Marley sent the invitation, because I knew I’d want to have this conversation. Please don’t make me wait any longer to say it.’