Christmas at Snowflake Lodge

by CP Ward

  Jessica smiled at the silver-haired lady who looked at least as old as Grandpa. ‘Not at all. Isn’t this movie a bit … noisy for you?’

  The old woman’s crinkled face smiled. ‘Not at all. You’d hardly believe it now, but back in the sixties I was a stuntwoman for MGM.’

  Jessica laughed at what was obviously a joke, but the old lady lifted a silver eyebrow.

  ‘Don’t believe me, do you, dear? I was one of the first. A pioneer. Had my career ended quickly when I lost my left leg from the knee down to a shark. On the set of one of the Bond movies, I think. I forget which one.’

  Jessica was about to call her bluff when the old woman leaned forward and tapped an arthritic hand against her left shin. It made a hollow sound. Looking up at Jessica, the old woman smiled.

  ‘Insurance paid a little better in those days. Got myself a cozy early retirement, and a little money for investments.’

  Jessica wasn’t sure what to say, so she just gave a dumb nod.

  ‘Me and my sisters,’—the old woman hooked a gnarled thumb over her shoulder at two similarly old biddies sitting in their wheelchairs nearer to the screen, on which John McClane was now jumping out of a building—‘we found ourselves an old, rundown ski lodge, and decided to give it a brush up.’ She spread her hands. ‘It came out nice, didn’t it?’

  Jessica stared. ‘You … you and your sisters…?’

  The old woman grinned. ‘My name’s Theodora Bright. Over there are Trixie and Ellen. Born within fifteen minutes of each other, although my seven-minute head start makes me the oldest.’

  ‘Theodora….?’

  The name rang a bell from somewhere. Jessica frowned, trying to remember, but there was too much else to process for her to concentrate.

  ‘You … and your sisters, you own this lodge?’

  Theodora grinned. ‘That hufty-tufty rushing about all over the place would have a fit if he knew we were here. I’ve already had him pick up a couple of things for me, just so I can get a better look at that toupee he’s wearing under that bowler hat. Fancy that. He can’t be more than fifty.’

  ‘You three are the fabled conglomerate?’

  ‘The very same. And we come here every year just to watch people enjoying themselves. You see, I’m ninety next birthday. I might not have many more. Gosh, Bruce Willis used to be a dish, didn’t he? A shame old Father Time turned him into a potato. I suppose he turned me into a bag of old bones, so I can’t go running my mouth.’

  Jessica couldn’t help but smile. ‘Barry’s always going on about you. Keeps saying you’re going to close the place down or fire him, or both.’

  ‘We’ll do nothing of the sort while we’re alive, and when we’re dead … well, who knows what happens then? Don’t tell him I said that, though. Keep him on his hoity-toity toes. Men struggle for motivation when they think no one’s watching.’

  Theodora started giggling, rocking back and forth in her chair. Jessica wondered for a moment whether the old woman was having a seizure. Then, gripping the arms of the chair, Theodora turned to her, eyes bright.

  ‘By the way, I know who you are. Jessica Lemond, aren’t you?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Quite the run of luck that your grandfather’s wife died and he was looking for one last blowout. We’ve always kept tabs on him and couldn’t wait to offer him a position this year. Gives us a chance to settle an old bet.’

  Jessica sat up. ‘A bet?’

  Theodora’s eyes twinkled with excitement. ‘I see nothing’s changed with that old fool. He’s still the charmer he always was. You can’t help but love him, even though he left enough broken hearts in his wake to fill a Clinton Cards Valentine’s Day singles bin. And although I might not look it now, back in my day, I was quite the looker. As was Trixie over there, my identical twin.’

  ‘You’re an identical twin?’

  ‘Trixie and me. Not Ellen. A bit of a miracle, the doctors told mother, apparently, although the three of us have always looked pretty similar. It got us into some scrapes over the years, though. And a lot of fun, too.’

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘But there’s one thing we’ve always wondered. And it’s related to your grandfather.’

  Jessica sat up in the chair, the movie all but forgotten. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Back in the fifties, before I moved into stunt work, I did a little acting. Not that much, but there was always a market for identical twins, and Trixie and me found ourselves with a bit part in a movie called Double Trouble, some terrible, long forgotten crime comedy. And your grandfather played the lead. Keeping in our role, we weren’t allowed to have names on the set. We were Sister One and Sister Two, and the costume department kept us dressed the same, our hair the same, everything, all the time. But one night, your grandfather came over and asked me out on a date.’

  Jessica laughed. ‘Why does that not surprise me?’

  ‘Well, we went out and had a little dinner and a dance and a pretty good time, if you know what I mean, but the next day, I heard from Trixie that he’d also asked her out on a date. We confronted him about it, and he claimed to have thought we were the same person. Unfortunately, production on the show wrapped not long after that and we went our separate ways. To this day, Trixie thinks he wanted to date her. And I think he wanted to date me. Which of us is right? This could be our last year to find out, and I wondered if you could help me.’

  ‘You want me to find out?’

  ‘Yes. I want you to ask your grandfather which Bright twin he was after, Trixie or Theodora.’

  ‘Um, I don’t know—’

  Theodora put a hand on Jessica’s arm. Beneath the leathery skin and the bony fingers was the remnant of a strength which might well have once hung from tightropes or jumped jet skis over sharks.

  ‘If you do this for me, we’ll reward you with a little Christmas present. Come on, make an old woman happy.’

  Jessica laughed again. Everything was becoming a little surreal, yet fun at the same time. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘What present? I could do with a decent box of chocolates because I’m losing a little weight.’

  ‘I can do better than that,’ Theodora said. ‘How about the lodge?’

  20

  Snowboarding

  Jessica could barely sleep. Even though she could hear Kirsten snoring through the open door to the other room, she had far more on her mind.

  After Theodora’s shock offer, Trixie and Ellen had both wheeled over and confirmed what Theodora had said. Ellen, sounding frustrated, wanted the matter sorted ‘once and for all.’ Trixie and Theodora had then got into an argument before wheeling off to catch the tail end of karaoke, because ‘that’s when they start doing Cliff Richard.’

  The lodge. The whole lodge. They wanted to give it to her, if she would only ask her grandfather which of two identical twins he had wanted to date.

  It was like a crazy dream, yet when she thought about the nightmare her life in Bristol had become, it sounded increasingly appealing. Never having to go back there again. Leaving the letting agent to deal with Doreen and then selling up, moving to a ski lodge in Scotland where she wouldn’t have a care in the world.

  It sounded perfect.

  Too perfect, perhaps, like she had fallen asleep on a comfortable sofa somewhere, her belly full of mince pies and hot chocolate, and was currently deep in the middle of a dream.

  She couldn’t be gifted with an entire ski lodge just for asking her grandfather a simple question, surely?

  Dragging herself out of bed at seven a.m., groggily making coffee while Kirsten was still sleeping, she realised there was only one way to find out.

  Leaving Kirsten to sleep, she headed up to the lobby, where breakfast was being served in the dining room. She looked for Grandpa, but he was again absent. Theodora, Trixie, and Ellen were sitting in their chairs around a table near one of the log fires, though. When Theodora caught Jessica’s eye, the old woman lifted a finger to tap the side of her head
while giving a secretive nod.

  Just to check whether or not she was dreaming, Jessica went back to the lobby and out through the main doors.

  A freezing wind was whipping across the car park, sending flurries of icy droplets battering against the windows. Jessica took one solid gust, then headed back inside, brushing herself off on the large mat just inside the doors.

  If this was a dream then it certainly simulated cold rather well.

  She headed upstairs to Grandpa’s suite on the third floor. However, instead of having breakfast as she had expected to find him, his door was wide open and through it Jessica saw Charity from housekeeping piling sheets in the middle of the floor. Jessica had a sudden gut-wrenching thought that Grandpa had died in the night and no one had told her, but then Charity looked up and smiled.

  ‘Are you after Mr. Lemond? I’m afraid he’s already gone out. He’s hitting the slopes this morning.’

  It took a couple of seconds for Jessica to fully comprehend what Charity was saying. ‘You mean he’s gone skiing?’

  Charity shook her head, and Jessica felt a momentary relief. ‘No, not skiing. He says skiing is for old people.’ Charity gave a quick chuckle that suggested she might actually quite like Grandpa. ‘He’s gone boarding.’

  ‘Boarding … snowboarding? Are you serious?’

  Charity shrugged. ‘He’s a funny old chap, and I enjoy hanging around him, but he’s not a person to do as he’s told. I gather his dead wife was a bit of a bossy boots?’

  ‘Something like that. So he’s gone up to the ski slope?’

  Charity nodded. ‘He said the powder’s best first thing in the morning. After lunch it’s too cut up to be much fun.’

  Jessica didn’t know whether to laugh or feel horrified, so she thanked Charity and turned to leave. Just as she reached the big window on the landing outside Grandpa’s suite, her phone pinged.

  She had forgotten that there was a small reception hotspot just outside Grandpa’s suite. Guests weren’t technically allowed on this floor unless they were staying in one of the three exclusive suites—the others were currently empty due to late cancellations—but Jessica had taken advantage of her staff status and family connection. Now, as she climbed back down the stairs and stepped past a STAFF ACCESS ONLY sign at the bottom, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her messages.

  Doreen’s message had finally updated. Jessica opened it, certain things couldn’t get worse than what she had already read.

  But they could.

  It looked pretty interesting so Mick, Phil and I figured we’d take advantage of these friends and family coupons you’ve been sent. It’ll take a day or two to get organised—particularly considering that we’ve had to leave our stuff in the middle of the floor because I think you have mice living in one of the closets—but we’ll be up there by the weekend. It’ll be awesome to see you again, Lemons. In a way I’ve really missed you.

  Jessica dropped the phone. It hit the carpet with a loud thump.

  ‘My worst nightmare,’ she said to the empty corridor. ‘My worst nightmare is coming true.’

  She downed a stiff good morning glass of sherry in the dining hall, then headed for the ski rental shop. If Grandpa could carve up the slopes at ninety-two, she could handle them at twenty-nine. And the sooner she asked him Theodora’s immortal question and had the lodge signed over to her, the sooner she could put up some kind of professional blockade on Doreen staying. She didn’t want to think about the chaos her lodger might cause.

  Ben asked if she’d ever skied or boarded before. Jessica gave a confident shake of her head, because how hard could it be? All you had to do was point downhill and slide. Easy. With a knowing smile Ben lent her a staff snowboard, showed her how to strap it on, then offered her a couple of pieces of protective gear which she refused. He then politely suggested she might do well to sign up for a couple of lessons, but Jessica shook her head.

  ‘I’m good,’ she said, images of jumping off ramps and spinning three-sixties in her mind. ‘No problem.’

  The slopes were accessed by a set of stairs behind the lodge. For a couple of minutes Jessica trudged through enchanting forest, before emerging at the bottom of a clear ski slope which seemed worryingly steep. To her left was a small chair lift rising up the hill. Carrying her board over, she waved at the man inside the lift’s operation room. Mr. Dawes opened a window and leaned out.

  ‘On you get, lass.’

  Jessica walked over to the lift. Two-person chairs hanging from a metal cable came zooming down the hill, into the lift station, where they briefly slowed, going around a corner and then accelerating up the hill again. Jessica waited for the lift to stop for her to get on, but as chair after chair rose past her, she became increasingly frustrated. Mr. Dawes was frowning at her through the kiosk window.

  ‘Are you going to get on?’ he shouted. ‘Or are you just going to stand there?’

  ‘I’m waiting for it to stop!’

  Mr. Dawes laughed. ‘It doesn’t stop, lass. You stand by that line over there, then sit down as it comes up behind you. Never done this before, have you? Wouldn’t it be an idea to get an instructor? One of ours is just up the hill now.’

  ‘I don’t need an instructor!’ Jessica shouted, knowing that really, she did. But if Grandpa could do it….

  Summoning all her courage, she stepped in front of the chair lift. It came up before her frighteningly fast, gave her bum a solid bump before scooping her up. She hung on to a side handle as the lift chair rushed up the hill, far higher off the ground than it looked from below. At first she hung on for dear life, trying not to scream. As she got used to the bumps of the chair and the way it jumped every time they went past a cable tower, she began to enjoy it a little more. The ski slope was off to her right, with the lift following a line through the trees before angling back across to the top of the slope. Below her, she saw mounds of powder snow, but also lines in it where skiers and boarders had gone off-piste, cutting through the trees. As she watched, someone came rushing down on a snowboard, hacking around a tall fir, jumping off what appeared to be a snow-covered rock, before racing away through the trees. She wondered who it was; she couldn’t recognise the person beneath all the clothing, but they had appeared to be carrying a large hiking rucksack on their back. Jessica could only smile in awe at the snowboarder’s skill.

  As her chair reached the top lift station, Jessica was faced with the challenge of getting off the thing while it was still moving without falling face down in the snow. She braced herself as it slowed, then pushed off as solid ground appeared beneath her feet.

  It looked as though she had made it as she took a couple of awkward steps forward, but then, as it started its arc around to head back downslope, the corner of the chair nudged her bum and she went tumbling forward. The snowboard fell out of her arms and slid gracefully into a snowdrift behind the lift station, but Jessica landed on her chest, arms and legs spread-eagled. From behind her came a groaning generator noise, and she looked behind her to see the lift wire had come to a halt, the nearest chairs rocking gently back and forth.

  A door opened in the kiosk and a young man came running out. ‘Are you all right?’ he said, helping her up.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she muttered. ‘I thought they didn’t stop.’

  The young man smiled. ‘Only when someone falls off or when children are getting on. Do you need any help? Is this your first time on a ski slope?’

  Jessica gave him a grim smile and marched off to retrieve her snowboard. Then, dragging it around the corner away from the lift, she sat down at the top of what appeared to be a sheer cliff made of packed snow. As her heart thundered in her chest, a couple of skiers got off the lift behind her, made a graceful turn, and then hared off downhill, quickly disappearing into the swirls of mist drifting across the slope.

  Where was Grandpa?

  Jessica sat quietly for a few minutes, contemplating her oncoming doom. Then, with her heart still thundering, she fixed
on the snowboard as Ben had shown her, and tried to stand up.

  She almost made it. Just as she was about to reach an upright position, her feet slid a couple of inches and she fell back down on her bum.

  The snow was a lot harder than it looked. Three attempts later, she now understood why Ben had offered her a pair of padded trousers which in her vanity she had refused. Her bum was freezing cold, and every time she fell back down it felt like someone was whacking her with a frying pan.

  The slopes were mercifully empty. She guessed that most of the Silver Tours lot were past winter sports now, but a couple of teenagers she had seen working about the lodge came past, gave her a wave, and then raced off down the slopes. With her efforts she had managed to make it about twenty metres downslope from the lift station, but she was cold and tired, and her thighs felt on fire from the way the board pulled at her legs.

  ‘Ms. Lemond!’

  Jessica looked up at the familiar voice. Off to her left, the lift chairs were passing overhead. Kirsten, looking wide awake and full of life with a snowboard strapped to her dangling left foot, gave her a wave. Beside her sat a young man Jessica didn’t recognise.

  ‘Gotta move,’ she muttered, pushing herself gainfully up to her feet. This time she slid a couple of inches before the board jagged on a compressed lump of snow and pitched her face first downslope. She had just managed to awkwardly get her legs and the board back over to the front when Kirsten, gliding like a pro, skidded to a stop beside her.

  ‘I didn’t know you boarded,’ Kirsten said, as her companion came up beside her. ‘By the way, this is Clifford from the book club.’

  Jessica gave a confused shake of her head. Book club? And for someone with such a dorky name, Clifford oozed utter cool. ‘It’s my first time,’ she muttered.

  ‘Did you see your grandfather? Isn’t he awesome? He’s been hitting up the tree lines to the right, but he’ll probably swing past in a bit. He said he was going to do one last run before heading in to breakfast.’