by CP Ward
‘Really?’ James said, raising an eyebrow.
‘The TV ad is on YouTube,’ Kirsten said. ‘It’s my favourite.’
Jessica grimaced as she hung up her coat and pulled off her boots. ‘I retired it,’ she said. ‘If you read the comments on the video you’ll see why.’
‘But it did help with business, didn’t it?’
Jessica nodded. ‘Oh, yeah. I’ve never had so many calls. A shame most of them were from geriatric perverts.’
James shrugged. ‘I suppose when you make a promise like that….’ He laughed at Jessica’s scowl. ‘Nice walk? I heard you go out.’
‘I wanted to have a word with the man who’s been following me,’ she said. ‘The man in the car out on the road.’
‘He was there first thing this morning,’ James said. ‘Is he stalking you? Do you want me to call the police?’
Kirsten was watching Jessica over the top of her spectacles as she crunched on a piece of toast. James wore a little smile, which while cute, made Jessica feel a little angry, as though he didn’t take the situation seriously. But then, when she thought about it, it was ridiculous, after all. Dick Burd was trailing her in order to find her grandfather, and supposedly bring him to justice. Perhaps it was time to find Grandpa, get his side of the story once and for all, and get Dick Burd off their case. Send him out into the cold Scottish night with a souvenir bottle of Scotch whisky for Mavis Johns’s bitter, money-grabbing family and a belly full of mince pies.
‘No, it’s okay,’ Jessica said. ‘I can handle it. He’s harmless, just kind of annoying.’
James smiled. ‘Well, how about we throw him off your tail? You’re going to Snowflake Lodge, right? Well, the quickest way is to go back down via the road, but the most interesting way is along the forest path that leads up the valley from my farm. No way a car could ever make it, but your bike would be fine. It might get a bit muddy, but that’s all.’
Jessica smiled. ‘That sounds like a great idea.’
James nodded. ‘But, you promised to do something for me first. Don’t you remember?’
As Jessica was frowning, trying to remember last night’s conversation, Kirsten jumped up out of the chair, both arms in the air, like a jack-in-the-box opened on Christmas Day.
‘Decorate the Christmas tree!’ she shouted.
13
Snowflake Lodge
‘Okay, ready everyone? Stand back.’
James took a couple of steps back from the tree, Jessica and Kirsten on either side of him, then lifted a pair of wires in his hands.
‘Ready? Three … two … one—’
‘Merry Christmas!’ they all shouted as the lights on James’s tree came on, brightening the courtyard under a gloomy sky which threatened more snow. Even the cat, Molly, had come to the window to watch.
‘That’s an incredible tree,’ Jessica said, staring up at the stunningly decorated pine tree rising several feet over her head. ‘I could almost believe you built the farm around it.’
James smiled. ‘Not quite. These pines grow pretty quick. The first Christmas after I took over the farm from my parents was quite a somber affair. That spring I broke a hole in the concrete and planted this tree. In the summer I ring it with flowers.’
‘It’s lovely,’ Kirsten said. ‘My family always made do with a plastic one out of Tesco. How about you?’
Jessica sighed. ‘We had one of those glowing ones you didn’t need to decorate,’ she said. ‘My parents weren’t into decorating all that much, not when you could get a tree that came ready. They liked to change it up, though, so they bought a new one every year.’
‘It’s all right for some,’ James said, then immediately looked bashful. ‘Sorry about that, I didn’t mean—’
Jessica shrugged it off, but the damage had been done. She was the rich kid. As always, once people found out, it became something from which she had no escape. Not that it mattered; after all, he was a complete stranger. But, she liked the way he looked at her—
‘It’s starting to snow,’ Kirsten said, tugging on Jessica’s arm like a child who had forgotten her coat. ‘I think we should get moving, don’t you?’
To Jessica’s disappointment—although she refused to say it out loud, nor even think it—James had no plans to accompany them on their onward journey. He explained that the reindeer needed feeding and cleaning before being taken out into the field for some exercise. He also needed to continue his checking of the fences in order to ensure none could get out like Belinda had the night before.
‘You’ll be fine,’ he said, showing none of the disappointment that Jessica had secretly hoped to see. ‘It’s only narrow for the first couple of hundred metres. Then it widens out into a proper road. Another half a mile and you’ll join up with the main road that heads up to Snowflake Lodge. Look out for the gapers on the top of the hill. It’s the only spot for miles where you can pick up a phone signal. There’s always a bunch of saddos up there holding their phones in the air, trying to pick up the latest social media stuff.’
‘Are you not into all that?’ Kirsten asked.
‘Not when there’s fresh air to breathe,’ James said, sounding a little bitter. ‘If people want to spend their lives staring at a phone, that’s up to them. Personally, I’d rather live my life.’
The sudden vehemence with which he gave his opinion made their parting a little awkward. Jessica had been wondering whether to call Doreen and check that she still had a flat, but the reception blackspot had made the decision for her. She hadn’t felt comfortable asking James if he had wi-fi, but Kirsten had figured it out by trying her phone and finding no roaming signals. As they climbed back onto the bike in the farm’s courtyard, Jessica wasn’t sure whether she was sad to be leaving or not.
‘Good luck up at Snowflake Lodge,’ James said. ‘You’ll have a great time.’
‘Thanks for looking after us,’ Kirsten said as she climbed into the sidecar, but all Jessica could do was mumble a quick thanks and flash a reluctant smile. Then they were off, and it felt easier not to look back. By the time she did allow herself to look in the wing mirror, the farm and James were out of sight.
The trail turned out as James had said. The bike bumped over the uneven ground for a couple of minutes, leaving a trail behind them in the snow, before the way opened out on to a proper forest lane. It wound beneath trees for a few minutes, in many places still clear of snow, then ended at a gate which opened onto the road.
A few minutes later they were surrounded by stunning mountain scenery: snow-peaked mountains, forested valleys, the occasional glitter of a distant lake between the hills. They passed a sign to Snowflake Lodge, then crested a hill where they found a small viewing layby filled with cars. Remembering James’s words, Jessica’s phone began to ping with all the messages it had been unable to collect during their time at James’s place. She felt an urge to pull over and check, but resisted it. After a few minutes, the urge began to fade, she began to enjoy the scenery once more, and she wondered what all the fuss had been about.
At the top of the next rise they paused, looking down into a valley thick with forest in the shadow of a tall, jagged mountain. A single ski-run cut across its slopes, disappearing into the trees before reemerging by a car park at the bottom.
And there, nestled among the trees, was Snowflake Lodge.
Jessica pulled the bike onto the side of the road and took off her helmet to get an unhindered look. Kirsten also took off her helmet and together they stared in wonder.
‘Well, I think we’ve found it,’ Jessica said.
‘It looks like Cinderella’s castle,’ Kirsten said. ‘Oh, wow.’
She was right. Although several wings of the lodge were hidden among trees, the central building was at least three storeys tall and had a tower on one corner with an ornate turret on top. She wondered if up close it would look tacky, like an amusement park, but from a distance it looked like the fairytale-perfect set of a Christmas movie.
They clim
bed back onto the bike and headed down the valley. The main road passed the lodge to the west but an ornate cast iron gate stood over an entrance road lined by snow-covered fir trees lit up with Christmas lights. They turned up the road, bumping over gravel, the road winding uphill, until the pine trees were backed by thicker, darker forest on both sides. A car park appeared ahead, scattered with snow-covered vehicles. Jessica pulled in, then spotted another sign labeled STAFF PARKING. A gravel track led around to a shady area at the lodge’s rear. Jessica parked in a free space, killed the engine, then pulled off her helmet and turned to Kirsten.
‘Why do I feel nervous?’ she asked. ‘We’ve made it at last.’
Kirsten rubbed her hands together. ‘Should we bring our stuff in now, or leave it here?’
‘Let’s make sure they’ve got room for us first. We’re a few days earlier than expected.’
They headed around the lodge’s front. Wide lawns now dusted with snow spread out around them, dotted with small statues and trees. Each was decorated with Christmas lights, which, unlike those under the trees, were currently switched off. In the centre of the gardens was an enormous pine tree, easily thirty feet high, encircled by Christmas lights and with a huge, magnificent star at the top.
‘How delightful,’ Kirsten said. ‘I bet it looks even better at night.’
The main reception was at the top of a flight of steps. Off to the right was a wide courtyard patio in front of a large dining hall. Steps led down to the gardens below. Turning to take it all in, Jessica found herself gasping at the breadth of the panorama, the mountain rising over them, the snow-covered forest on the hillside below, the rolling moorland in the distance. It was so beautiful she could hardly bring herself to speak.
She glanced at Kirsten, gave a wordless nod and then pushed through the front door.
At the reception desk, a woman in her fifties—and dressed like she had time-travelled from the nineteen-fifties—was talking on the phone, a Christmas hat in her hands. Off to the left was a waiting area, currently empty. Comfortable sofas and armchairs made a semi-circle around a blazing log fire. On the mantelpiece above it, delightfully colourful Christmas stockings hung down, and large, intricate snow globes reflected the ceiling lights.
Doors to the right led through into the dining room. As Jessica and Kirsten waited for the receptionist to finish her phone call, a rotund man in a bowler hat with a Christmas hat perched on top came bustling through, a clipboard under one arm, a single strand of hair flapping against the side of his face.
‘Mildred?’ he said, in a cartoonish harrumph voice which made Jessica smile. ‘Mildred, are you still on hold? Can’t they get someone out this afternoon? It’s an emergency. How can we run a lodge with a blocked downstairs toilet?’
‘Excuse me,’ Jessica said, raising a hand like a nervous school kid uncertain of the correctness of her answer.
The man stopped. He turned, planted hands on hips with the power of someone claiming an overseas territory, then frowned.
‘Guests must sign in at reception,’ he said. ‘The reception, as you can see right now, is busy, so if you don’t mind waiting, there are some magazines over there in the lobby, and a pretty fish tank you can look at.’
‘I like fish,’ Kirsten said, as the man gave a dismissive harrumph and turned to face Mildred.
Jessica still had a hand in the air. ‘Um, I’m Jessica Lemond. I’m the new plumber…? I’m a few days early, but—’
The man turned to face them. His cheeks had reddened as though he had been hitting the sherry a little too hard, but otherwise nothing in his expression had changed.
‘The plumber, you say? Well what are you standing there for? Get your overalls on. This is an emergency!’
14
Grandpa
Far from the emergency the rather tempestuous manager had proclaimed, the problem was actually a pretty simple one of a blocked U-bend. Jessica and Kirsten got to work on the problem, quickly identifying the location of the blockage, shutting down the water system and then removing, clearing, and replacing the offending section of pipe.
When he gave the toilet a confirming flush, the manager—whose name, rather fittingly, was Barry Trumpton—began clapping, joined by Mildred from reception who had accompanied them to the problematic cubicle.
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ Barry said, turning to Jessica and Kirsten, his hands clasped together as though in prayer. ‘That toilet has been playing up for years. All it takes is a little too much paper and we’re flooded.’
‘From what I’ve seen of it, the whole system is outdated,’ Jessica said. ‘The pipes are old, too thin for an establishment this size, and you have huge calcium deposits. Not to mention several fissures, most likely due to frost. I would suggest you get the whole lot overhauled during the off-season.’
Barry rolled his eyes. ‘Try telling that to the mighty financers,’ he said. ‘Everything you say falls on deaf ears. The almighty conglomerate doesn’t care about us. I really appreciate your help. If you can just get us through this season, I’ll be eternally grateful.’
Mildred, all horn-rimmed spectacles, floral dress and exquisite bee-hive hair she refused to ruin with the Christmas hat held in her hands, leaned over Barry’s shoulder.
‘Um, Mr. Trumpton, the girls still haven’t signed in yet. I imagine they’ve had a long drive.’
‘We actually stayed locally last night,’ Jessica said. ‘With a local farmer? Um, James…?’
‘James Wilcox?’ Mildred said. ‘Oh, you lucky girls. Both of you? Gosh, he’s such a Casanova.’
‘In the spare room,’ Kirsten said quickly, her cheeks glowing like strawberries, eyes so wide at the thought of any innuendo that it made Jessica smile.
‘We ran out of petrol,’ she said.
‘That Wilcox man is nothing but trouble,’ Barry said. ‘Never showing up on time—’
‘He runs the sleigh rides,’ Mildred said with a cheeky smile. ‘They start next week. We posted a picture of him on the website last year and we had double the number of bookings from ladies over fifty.’
‘And they caused so much trouble I had you take that picture down,’ Barry said with a frown. ‘I’ve never seen people drink so much wine spritzer.’
‘He’s not that handsome,’ Jessica said, although in a way, he was. In a rugged, mountainous way. Not the kind of way she really liked, and in any case, his personality had been a little too spiky for her tastes.
‘If you say so,’ Mildred said, giving a subtle roll of her eyes. ‘Come on, let’s get you to your rooms.’
Jessica sighed, thinking about the panoramas she had seen from the main entrance. A cup of coffee—or even hot chocolate—and an armchair with a view would do nicely right now.
As though reading her thoughts, Kirsten said, ‘Does our room have a view?’
Mildred grimaced. ‘Kind of,’ she said.
‘Well, it’s a view,’ Kirsten said, sighing.
‘Of the incinerator,’ Jessica said, unable to resist a wry smile. The staff quarters, rather predictably, were at the building’s rear, on a basement level, with a window that looked out onto a subterranean rubbish storage space. A large machine against the far wall looked capable of burning disgruntled guests, although when Jessica wiped a hand through the window’s condensation to get a better look, she realised it was a giant industrial washing machine.
‘At least we won’t have to go far to wash our clothes,’ Kirsten said.
Jessica sighed and pulled the curtains closed, covering the grim space outside with a pretty repeated scene of Father Christmas’s North Pole grotto.
‘Much better,’ she said.
Other than the location, their shared suite was rather nice. They had a bedroom each, with a central room in the middle which doubled as a kitchen-diner. While Barry had given them staff coupons for the restaurant, they had the means to prepare and cook their own food if they wished.
‘So what do we do now?’ Kirsten asked.
>
‘I suppose we’d better go and report for duty,’ Jessica said. ‘Don’t forget your Christmas hat.’
Barry had explained—with a frustrated glance at Mildred, who was refusing to comply—that staff were required to wear Christmas hats at all times. With the heaters on only in the rooms, Jessica didn’t really mind having something to keep her ears warm, even if Kirsten kept hers outside the hat like some kind of elf.
‘I wonder what they’ll want us to do?’ Kirsten said, as they headed upstairs.
‘Could be anything,’ Jessica said.
The job description was “plumbing and general maintenance”. When asked to clarify what exactly the “general maintenance” part entailed, Barry had shrugged. ‘Just hang around in case we need you. And if it starts dumping with snow, grab a shovel and help out.’
Upstairs in reception, Mildred was polishing her nails, a magazine open on the desk in front of her. ‘Did you settle in all right?’ she asked. ‘Sorry about the basement room. They’re bigger than all the others, though. There is that.’
‘It’s fine,’ Jessica said. ‘I just had a couple of questions.’
Mildred shrugged, briefly taking her eyes off the magazine in order to look up. ‘Sure, go ahead.’
‘Is there anything we should be doing between maintenance jobs? Like, do we have an office we’re supposed to hang out in, or is there anything covered by “general maintenance” that we should be getting on with?’
Mildred shook her head. ‘Nope. Barry just likes to have someone on staff in case of an emergency. This place is sixty years old, and it’s miles from anywhere. If something goes wrong it can take days to get fixed, especially if it’s snowing. You’re one of our little luxuries, but if you want something to do, just wander about and enjoy yourselves. The lodge has some lovely features and there are some great things to do outdoors. We’ve got that little ski slope, of course, but there are loads of forest trails, hikes, snowshoeing trips, ice fishing up at the mountain lake, not to mention all the Christmas events we have in the evenings. We’re very much a community here, with a lot of the same customers every year. And of course, this year we have a very special guest on a farewell tour.’
