A Mistletoe Miracle

by Emma Jackson

  I thought it was a pain in the arse.

  ‘Good afternoon, Ms Keenan. I’ve been waiting here for twenty minutes.’

  ‘I’m sorry. What can I do for you?’ I slipped behind the desk and casually dropped the toilet roll I’d accidentally brought with me, to the floor.

  ‘Are you short-staffed? It looks like you are short-staffed.’ He swept a glance around the lobby, as though we usually had employees lined up around the room just waiting to jump to his command.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him about the flu epidemic, but he probably would have called for the whole place to be fumigated.

  ‘Just Christmas. Everyone needs time off to do their shopping and…er…stuff.’

  ‘But you’re a hotel. Surely you should add to your staff numbers during the holiday period, rather than let them all have time off?’

  ‘You know, I wholeheartedly agree. I will pass that suggestion along to the manager. Is there anything else I can help you with?’

  ‘My pillow. It wasn’t the hypoallergenic one I requested.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ I tapped his name into the computer and checked the information under ‘special requests’. There was a tick in the box to confirm his requirement. There was no way my mother would have forgotten, but ‘the customer is always right’.

  ‘I’m so sorry about that. I’ll get it swapped in time for this evening. You’re in room two, yes?’

  ‘Yes. And change the sheets too – I don’t want any of those feathers irritating me. They wiggle their way out and scratch. I’ll come up in awful hives.’

  ‘Of course, that’s not a problem.’ As long as I found the time to do it. The thought of Julius with big, red rashes all over him would surely be enough to remind me.

  He sniffed and gave a little nod, as though deciding whether or not he was satisfied.

  ‘What’s for lunch today? The menu hasn’t been updated outside the dining room.’

  I couldn’t stomach apologising again, so I just pulled a concerned face.

  ‘Let me call through to the kitchen and find out for you.’ As I was waiting for Neeta to answer, I noticed Noelle Kingston, the writer, descending the stairs. She hadn’t been at breakfast and judging by the way she was rubbing her eyes and yawning, she’d probably been snuggled up under her duvet while the scrambled eggs were being doled out. At least someone around here had their priorities straight. She came straight over to the desk and must have stood just a little too close to Mr Mundey for his liking, because he shuffled sideways like a worried crab.

  ‘Yes, honey?’ Neeta finally answered.

  ‘Could you confirm what we have on our lunch menu today please?’

  If Neeta was thrown by my formal voice, she didn’t let on.

  ‘Carrot and coriander soup with French bread; steak and blue cheese panini; jacket potatoes with tuna; and the salads are Waldorf, Caesar or green.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I scribbled it down, so that I could type it up and print out the menus in time for lunch, and then recited the options to Julius. He sniffed again.

  ‘I think I might just walk into the village.’

  ‘It is a beautiful day,’ I said equably.

  ‘It’s minus two,’ he snapped and stalked off, as though the poor lunch selection was literally forcing him to source food elsewhere or starve.

  Noelle watched him go into the lounge, raising her eyebrows, and stepped up closer to the desk. She opened her mouth to start talking, then stopped again as Julius stalked back out of the lounge, muttering something about ‘bloody kids’ and went straight into the library opposite. None of the four small children staying were badly behaved as far as I’d noticed. I added kids to the list of things Julius was allergic to.

  ‘I never heard of anyone so offended by a steak and blue cheese panini,’ she drawled in her thick American accent.

  ‘Mr Mundey is vegan.’

  ‘Oh. I tried that once; it made me miserable too.’

  A laugh threatened at that, but I valiantly suppressed it. Laughing at the expense of the guests wasn’t professional. I could tell by the twinkle in her grey eyes that she knew she’d almost cracked me though.

  ‘How may I help you, Noelle?’ I opened a Word document on the computer but stayed standing because the counter was chest high. I think they’re meant to be for security purposes but since we almost always forgot to lock the hinged part where we entered, it was a bit pointless. Mum could barely see over the top of it, even in her heels.

  ‘It’s more that I can help you with something actually.’ She tucked a stray red hair behind her ear and folded her arms across the top of the desk.

  ‘Oh? Okay.’ I blinked in surprise. Usually conversations with Noelle were about staff and routines and what the worst thing about working in a hotel was, et cetera, et cetera.

  ‘Yeah, so I’ve got this writer friend who works for the same e-zine as—’ She broke off as the front door opened and a man walked in, towing a leather suitcase. This would be the final guest Mum was talking about yesterday and – if I’d managed to put two and two together correctly for once – Dorie’s other grandson: the banker.

  ‘Oh my,’ Noelle muttered and when I looked over at her she fanned herself subtly as he approached. Or as subtly as she did anything.

  He was wearing one of those long lush tan coats that might as well have been made from twenty-pound notes and had a black and white striped scarf around his neck. His hair was dark instead of fair like Nick’s, as I’d imagined. He pulled his suitcase to a neat stop in front of the desk.

  ‘Good morning, welcome to the Everdene Hotel.’ I gave him a warm smile. ‘I’ll be with you in just a moment – I’m just dealing with this lady.’

  ‘Oh, don’t mind me.’ Noelle smirked. ‘I’ll wait. Just over here.’ She sauntered around to the table between the doors to the library and the bar, where we kept a range of leaflets about local attractions. ‘Welcome indeed,’ she muttered and plonked herself in the armchair beside the table, a leaflet I knew she had no intention of reading held up to her nose.

  ‘Thank you.’ Dorie’s grandson doffed an imaginary cap at her. I found myself suppressing another laugh as Noelle pretended to swoon as soon as his attention was turned back to me.

  ‘Are you checking in, sir?’

  ‘Yes, the name’s Cartwright. Stephen Cartwright.’

  I desperately tried to ignore Noelle’s reaction to ‘The Spy Who Checked In’ but the words tripped off my tongue before I could help myself:

  ‘We’ve been expecting you, Mr Cartwright.’

  Noelle let out a snort and Stephen and I both looked around to find her shaking with laughter, the leaflet plastered to her whole face. I was fiercely reminded of being at school. We probably would’ve been great friends and in a lot of detentions together.

  My cheeks flushed though, when Stephen looked back at me. I really should learn to control my mouth.

  ‘I get it.’ He chuckled and my whole body relaxed. Thankfully he had a better sense of humour than his brother. He also had dark eyes as well as hair, so other than being tall and good-looking like Nick, they were very different. And I might’ve been studying him a little too hard because his mouth crooked up knowingly at the corner. He gave me an assessing gaze and his smile widened. ‘Aren’t you a bit young for Bond references?’

  ‘It’s popular culture.’ I shrugged. ‘I’ve never seen Star Wars but I know that Darth Vader is Luke’s father.’

  His dark eyes opened wide. ‘You’re kidding. I was planning on watching those for the first time this Christmas.’

  ‘Oh my God, I’m sorry—’ I broke off because he was already smirking.

  ‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist.’ He winked at me. Yes, he was definitely a habitual flirt.

  ‘Touché. Do you have—’ I started, but he was already sliding his credit card across the counter towards me. ‘Thank you.’

  Once I’d tapped in all his details, I printed off his booking form and slid it acros
s the desk, pointing out where he needed to sign. As he read it through, I fetched the key card and wallet for his room and then we exchanged documents with another smile.

  ‘Room Four is on the first floor, to the right. I can bring your luggage up in the service lift if you’d like.’

  ‘That’s okay, I think I can manage.’ He slid his scarf off his neck and looped it over his arm, then tucked his key card in his pocket.

  ‘Well, if there’s anything else I can help you with, just dial “O” on the phone in your room or drop by the desk.’

  He unbuttoned his coat and slipped that off too. He was wearing a pristine, tailored suit beneath: if he’d travelled down from London this morning in that suit – as the address on his account details suggested he would’ve – it didn’t seem possible for him to look so well ironed and clean. I wondered if there was a special product that designer shops gave the wealthiest clients to help repel dirt and general rumpledness.

  He caught me examining him again and I did my best to pretend I didn’t care. As he took the handle of his luggage, he paused, like something was niggling him.

  ‘Have we met somewhere else? I’m sure I’ve seen your face before.’ His eyes danced over my features and he gave a slow smile, revealing bright white teeth. ‘It’s not one I’d be likely to forget.’

  As far as lines went, it wasn’t the best I’d heard.

  ‘And yet you have,’ a dry voice commented from the stairs. I looked over to see who’d stolen my thunder and delivered the exact comeback I’d just thought up. Nick. As he loped down the stairs a flock of traitorous butterflies took off in my belly.

  Excellent, that was just what I needed.

  He was wearing a stripy jumper that was either hand-knitted or found in a jumble sale. It hung just off centre on his shoulders, like it was too big for him, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to straighten it up in a motherly fashion or rip it off him in a very non-motherly fashion.

  My eye caught Noelle’s. I’d managed to forget she was there for a minute. Probably because she’d stopped laughing, had completely abandoned the leaflet and was now leaning forwards, elbow planted on her knee and chin resting on her hand, watching us like her favourite soap opera.

  ‘Nicholas.’ Stephen’s smile grew tight as he turned towards his brother and offered his hand. They did that strange handshake, shoulder-slapping thing that men do when they’re too awkward to just hug like normal human beings. ‘You made it.’

  ‘I was here yesterday. Just like I said I’d be.’

  Oh wow, more bickering siblings for guests. At least it would give everyone a genuine Christmas experience – what was the festive season without a few Brussels sprouts launched across the dinner table? I sat down and started typing up the menu selection because I really didn’t have time for the level of nosiness I desperately wanted to indulge in. Maybe when I was less busy I could ask Noelle for the notes she was obviously going to write up afterwards.

  ‘You can forgive me for doubting surely?’ Stephen said quietly but patronisingly enough that I was left in no doubt over who the younger brother was. ‘Anyway, it’s true. I’m sure I’ve met—’ He turned towards me again and frowned. ‘Where did she go? Oh, there you are.’ He leaned over the counter, looking down at me with another winning smile. If he ever fancied a change in career, I bet the toothpaste commercial industry would bite his hand off (pun totally intended). ‘I’m sure I’ve met Beth before.’

  I always found it unsettling when guests read my name tag. I knew that’s what it was there for, but still, something about it made me feel less like a real person. My name is my name, and I’d prefer no one to know it unless I give it out. Also, the tag was over my left boob and it’s doubly odd to know a stranger has definitely been looking there.

  I hit the mouse button, sending the menus I’d quickly typed over to the printer and stood up, to remove the feeling that they were both peering down at me, as though I was in a fish bowl. ‘I really don’t think we have.’

  ‘I’ll figure it out. I’m sure I will.’ Stephen rapped his knuckles on the top of the desk. ‘When was the last time you were in London?’

  ‘Not long enough ago for my liking.’ I turned to the printer and watched the menus printing off as Stephen chuckled at my response.

  ‘The City isn’t for everyone,’ he conceded. ‘But I’d love to hear why.’

  Admittedly, I was out of practice, but I had the feeling he was gearing up to ask me out and I had no idea how to react to that. I mean, it was starting to come back to me – these little flirtation games. And it was easier with someone like Stephen who was pleasant on the eye but unlikely to take it too seriously because he most likely acted this way with anyone who gave him the merest hint of interest. It might be a good way to get myself back out there.

  But on the other hand, was I ready?

  I pulled the menus off the printer and shuffled them into a stack to buy myself a moment but even without eye contact he carried on. ‘Maybe we could—’

  ‘Stephen,’ Nick interrupted, running his hand through that beautiful bird’s nest of blond hair and darting a quick look over at me before glaring at his brother. ‘You’ve only just arrived. Why don’t you stop harassing the staff and drop your stuff off so you can come and see Nan?’

  My back stiffened. Any gratitude I might’ve felt for the interruption was immediately cancelled out: the staff. The staff? I’d introduced myself properly to him yesterday. There was no reason he couldn’t use my name. Of course, that was before he found out I’d been lying about the angel, so I guessed I was back to getting grumpy and rude Nick.

  ‘He’s not harassing me.’ I smiled sweetly at Stephen. ‘What was it you were going to say? Maybe we could…?’

  Stephen arched an eyebrow at Nick, who crossed his arms over his chest and looked away.

  ‘I was going to say: would you like to join me for a drink in the village tonight? There’s a fete or fair or something isn’t there? Might be the perfect opportunity for you to show me the joys of a provincial life.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you prefer to spend the evening with Nan?’ Nick butted in again.

  Ouch. I knew I’d pissed him off but was that really necessary? I had nothing against Dorie. She was excellent company, and frankly at that moment I’d have preferred a date with her to either of them, but still. No girl really wants to be seen as just staff or less interesting than a night in with an old lady. And what was wrong with Loganbury’s Christmas fayre? It was good fun. I’d genuinely missed not going along to it the last few years.

  ‘I’d like that, thank you,’ I announced, maybe a little too loudly. ‘That is, of course, if you don’t want to stay at the hotel with your family or take them to the fayre? It has a really great atmosphere. There’s live music and roasted chestnuts and lots of stalls to browse for last-minute Christmas presents. The locals really pull out all the stops.’

  ‘Sounds very festive. Our nan won’t want to go down there though. It’s far too cold out for her,’ Stephen assured me. He was very assured about everything, which was vaguely annoying – but I was too busy trying to annoy Nick, who had started annoying me yesterday, so I decided I could overlook it for the moment. ‘And besides, I only saw her last week. It’s not as though I’ve been gone for months.’ The unsaid like some was perfectly audible to us all.

  The same gut-punched expression flickered over Nick’s face that he’d had yesterday when I told him my mum would be heartbroken about the angel. It lanced straight through my chest and I almost wanted to take it all back, but it was kind of too late.

  ‘Okay.’ I decided to try and act like there was no awkward atmosphere. ‘We can meet at the Rose and Crown, at about half-nine?’

  ‘Fantastic, I’ll see you then.’ Stephen doffed that imaginary cap again and wheeled his case over to the stairs. ‘Are you coming, Nick, or shall I look for you once I’m settled in?’

  Nick said nothing, but he followed his brother up the stairs. I wondered if he’
d mention me lying about the angel to his brother. I wasn’t too worried though because a) Stephen struck me as the type who’d think it was funny, purely because it vexed Nick and b) if Stephen wasn’t impressed and decided to cancel our date that would not be the end of the world either.

  Date. I was going on a date. How the hell had that happened? I hadn’t been on a date with a stranger for so long – what if they’d changed what you were supposed to do? I didn’t have time to run upstairs and watch a few First Dates for pointers.

  I studied the menus I was crumpling in my hands and spotted a typo. Dammit, could I be bothered to reprint? Would anyone not know that ‘woup’ was actually meant to be ‘soup’?

  ‘Oh. My. Goodness.’ Noelle stood up and came over, eyes wide. ‘You should sell popcorn. Did you just have two gorgeous brothers fighting over you? If I wrote romance novels I’d have a plot bunny bouncing all over me.’

  ‘That wasn’t quite what happened,’ I grumbled. They were fighting over something, but I doubted it was me. I dumped the menus in the waste paper basket at my feet and noticed the toilet roll I’d dropped there earlier because I still had rooms to clean.

  ‘You should’ve seen it from where I was sitting. And where has your mom been advertising this hotel? Fine-Male-Specimens Weekly?’

  ‘Unlikely, though if there is such a magazine, I wouldn’t mind a subscription.’

  She laughed and leaned on the counter the way she’d been before Stephen had come in. Which, reminded me…

  ‘So, what was it you were telling me before?’

  ‘Oh, yeah. So, I was telling my friend about where I’m staying and he told me that it would be interesting to see what I thought because—’ she leaned further over and lowered her voice to what would have been a normal level for most people, but counted as whispering for her ‘—they are due a review from that famous hotel blogger, who is staying here over Christmas.’

  I stared at her for a moment, trying to sort through the narrative.

  ‘Hang on, let me see if I’ve understood this. Your friend, who works for an e-zine—’ she nodded ‘—has told you, that a famous hotel reviewer is staying here for Christmas?’ She nodded again. My breath rushed out in a whoosh and I grabbed a notepad and pen. I was going to need to tell my mum and see if she’d ever heard of them. ‘Who is the reviewer and what’s the e-zine?’