by Emma Jackson
‘Would you like to dance then? Properly.’
My mouth fell open. ‘What? You mean me and you?’
‘Yeah. I’m hoping some other people will join in – but if you really want to dance, I’ll dance with you.’
The noise of the crowd and the music seemed to dim and my awareness of him went into overdrive. The temptation of dancing was enough in itself really. I hadn’t danced for so long and I wanted to. I actually wanted to, for the first time in ages. And when I threw in the prospect of dancing with Nick all my nerve endings got busy fizzing with the memory of his chest against mine when we crashed together in the alleyway. The heat and the smell of him.
‘Yes please and thank you.’ I took his hands in mine before he could change his mind and moved into the space between the stage and the crowd, tugging him along with me. I let go of his hand, pulling all my bravado up to the surface, so I could wind my arms loosely around his neck. He automatically put his hands on my waist and I shivered. My jacket was only short and raising my arms had lifted it so that his fingers were actually underneath it, just one layer between his skin and mine. A pulse was beating through my whole body in time with the music.
‘Right…you’re going to have to show me how to do this.’ He was near enough I felt the vibration of his voice more than I could hear him.
‘This was your idea.’
‘Yeah, but I don’t think I’ve ever danced to this kind of music. What is it?’
‘Folk. And you dance the same way you’d dance to any music. Listen to the beat and move with it however you like. There aren’t any rules.’ I began to dip and swing my hips in time to the lively beat, starting him off easy in case he took fright and ran off.
He only moved a bit, still glancing from side to side, until I tightened my grip and my hip brushed the front of his long coat. He gave me his full attention then and the moment his eyes locked on mine, it was like a switch flicked in his body and he moved in perfect time with me.
The space we maintained between our bodies felt simultaneously like miles and like nothing at all. Suddenly, the night was not as freezing cold.
The band moved into another song, which was so fast, full of drums and frenzied ukulele that it was like they were daring us to kick it up a notch. Game on.
‘Hold on tight.’ I grinned and his eyes widened. I grabbed one of his hands from my waist to move him into a traditional hold so that I could start using my feet properly. That slightly frightened expression was back on his face again, like he’d accidentally got himself coupled to runaway train. He had no choice but to follow or let go but luckily, like earlier, he followed as I quick-stepped him side to side and round and round.
I squeezed his hand in thanks and he squeezed back and again it was like once he stopped worrying about it and focused on me, he just clicked into my rhythm.
And then he was leading the spins across the space in the road we had claimed, my boots somehow always finding purchase on the cobbles. The crowd were clapping and cheering and I was getting dizzy as the Christmas lights whirled by us, and the music seemed to grow even faster, my blood rushing through my body, our warm breaths puffing out in quick pants in the cold night air and mingling. Nick twirled me under his arm and I had to grab at the reindeer antlers, which I’d completely forgotten about, so they didn’t get knocked off my head, holding them with one hand as my back collided with his chest. I looked up at him, my gasping laughter echoed in his face.
And then the song was over.
We unravelled ourselves but Nick kept hold of my hand and we realised some of the onlookers were still clapping. We took a little bow together before we walked away from the stage back to the pavement at the side, as though we were a celebrity couple off Strictly Come Dancing.
‘That was fun.’ I tiptoed up to speak into his ear, unable to relax my face out of a big grin. ‘Thank you.’
‘My pleasure.’ He let go of my hand and pointed towards one of the stalls selling cups of warm cider and mulled wine. ‘I think I need a drink now though.’
‘Normally you have the Dutch courage before you do something like dancing in front of a crowd of strangers,’ I pointed out.
‘Yeah. That would make more sense.’ His smile wouldn’t seem to quit either and I couldn’t quite believe this was the same man I’d crashed into in the alleyway yesterday. He cocked his head to the side quizzically and I was mortified to realise I’d been staring at him. I cleared my throat and started fiddling with the lopsided antlers that were all tangled up in my hair.
‘Here, d’you want them straightened up again or off?’ He stepped closer and gently started pulling the teeth free of my hair.
‘I don’t—’ My response died in my throat as I caught sight of a dark figure standing on the edge of the crowd, watching us.
‘What is it?’ Nick extricated the antlers from my head and followed my gaze over to Stephen. ‘Oh.’ Nick lifted his hand to acknowledge his brother and Stephen waved back in the same perfunctory manner.
Silence grew between us. I couldn’t say what made Nick grow quiet but for my part it seemed like anything I said would plunge me into an even more awkward situation somehow.
‘I should go join him.’ Nick tucked his hands into his pockets and tipped his head in his brother’s direction.
‘Of course. I’ve got to get home anyway.’ I really did. This Cinderella had stayed out well past her curfew, which would probably explain why she now had pumpkin all over her face.
‘You’ll be okay walking back?’
‘It’s not far. You go. Goodnight, Nick.’
‘Night.’
I spun on my heel before I had to look at Stephen again, particularly before I had to look at Nick and Stephen together, although I knew I wouldn’t be able to escape that weirdness forever.
As I passed by Lydia’s shop and rounded the corner away from the main high street, the snow began to fall. I held my hand out and watched a white flake float down and dissolve onto my glove. They had finally predicted the weather correctly – all I could hope was that Mum was waiting back at the hotel for me. I picked up my pace.
Chapter Seven
I tried not to take the fact that Mum was still not back as a bad sign. The snow had only just started. We’d probably only get a dusting and then it would disappear. Mum’d driven through the night yesterday. She wouldn’t hold off from doing it to get back to the hotel. Especially not now she knew about the staffing issues and the hotel reviewer.
Once the bar closed and the other staff left for home, I locked up and crawled into bed, blissfully too tired to think about blue eyes and beautiful smiles.
I woke the following morning when a text message came through:
Mum: So sorry, we’re snowed in! Hospital took longer than we thought & by the time we got back to Grandad’s to collect his stuff, the snow started. It’s deep. :(
Will keep you posted. As soon as we can leave, we will.
I let my phone drop and stayed in bed, absorbing the hush that muffled the hotel and how, even though it was still dark, there was a weird glow around the edges of the curtains. The snow must have fallen all through the night here too. I didn’t want to know how much there was; the depth of snow was directly linked to the depth of kaka I was in.
But eventually my morbid curiosity got the better of me, so I got up, dragging my duvet with me like a shroud, and peeked out the curtains.
It was still snowing. The sky was a soft purple-grey and it faded out into the bluish white that covered everything else. Spindly lines of tree trunks and the odd branch broke up the blanket, but nothing was free from at least six inches of snow. It was beautiful and I almost couldn’t find it within myself to hate it…almost.
I sighed and sent Mum a quick acknowledging text, saying I’d speak to her after breakfast. There were a bunch of notifications telling me I’d been tagged in a photo and a video, and three other text messages, all from Lisa.
Lisa: Who is that you are dancing with?
I demand details.
You look amazing together.
Lisa: P.S. It’s so lovely to see you happy again.
You deserve it. Text me as soon as you can.
Lisa: You can bring him to our engagement party!
Great. Someone I knew had captured Nick and I dancing last night and decided to share it with the internet. I could have gone into the app and found out who the culprit was – and part of me was itching to see the video if I was honest – but instead I lifted the duvet up and covered my head with it.
We might not even have had Christmas yet, but I was ready to make some New Year’s resolutions. First, don’t go on any more dates just because you think you should get out there. It is a Bad Idea. Second, don’t spend time with the brother of a failed date, which ends up feeling more date-like than the actual date did.
Granted, that second one was a bit specific but that should only make it easier to keep.
I did a quick search on the hotel reviewer again, to see if they’d updated their blog with another sneak peek:
‘To Die For
‘Well, dear readers, to answer yesterday’s question…the interior certainly does live up to the exterior. As though the high ceilings, delicately moulded plasterwork and parquet flooring were not enough, each room has been festooned with Christmas lights, fresh garlands and a Christmas tree with a colour theme to match its chosen location. Real open fires crackle in the background and the food is delicious. A varied menu cooked with flair and something to tempt even the fussiest of palates.
‘Check back later today for a report on the Dickensian Festival, the village of Loganbury’s annual Christmas Fayre…’
That was not too bad at least. In fact, I half wanted to visit the hotel myself. It was strange to see a place I was so familiar with, through someone else’s eyes.
Once I was showered and dressed, I went downstairs to let Neeta in, and found that my luck was not scheduled to hold. I wished I’d stayed in my duvet cocoon.
Henry was on the doorstep, rather than Neeta.
‘Finally. It’s bloody freezing out here.’ He brushed past me into the lobby.
I paused in the doorway, the cold air rushing inside and stinging my cheeks. I felt another early resolution coming on. Henry might feel superior to me; he might disapprove of my situation and life decisions – he might not even be far off how other people (Peter) might have felt – but it was none of his business. I hadn’t done anything to him and I wasn’t going to let him get away with treating me the way he had last night.
Being a music tutor might not make me able to support myself independently but that didn’t mean it didn’t have worth. I’d taught Callum to play and that had blossomed into his own love and dedication to music. Which in turn had led him to join a band and they’d entertained people and made them happy last night. And would continue to do so, I hoped. That was definitely worth something.
So, I was going to channel my inner ice princess and rise above his snide comments.
‘Good morning to you too.’ I shut the door and followed him as he stomped into the kitchen, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him. ‘Why are you here?’
‘Neeta swapped shifts with me. She’s got to pick up some relatives from Heathrow.’
‘Oh.’ She could have mentioned it to me, but I guess I had been distracted by my panic about running the hotel. ‘Okay.’
Henry tugged off his coat as though it had done something to offend him. ‘Okay? I wasn’t asking for your permission, Princess.’
God, he had his head lodged so firmly up his own backside it was a wonder he hadn’t turned inside out. This attitude couldn’t all be about me. And who was I kidding? I didn’t have an inner ice princess.
‘Oh, Henry, you are such a charmer.’ I batted my eyelashes at him. ‘But just so you know, at the present moment, I am actually in charge. You may not have asked my permission, but you do need it.’
He paused in the act of hanging up his coat and then resumed what he was doing, slowly, more purposefully. ‘Your mum’s still in Norfolk?’
‘Yes.’
He was quiet for a moment, his habitual frown lifting a fraction. ‘For how long?’
‘Until she comes out of her burrow and sees a shadow I’m guessing.’ He nodded and I checked my watch. ‘Breakfast starts in twenty-seven minutes. You plan on doing any actual prep?’
That brought his sneer firmly back into place. ‘You just do your job and I’ll do mine aye, Princess? The tables need setting, don’t they? Chop, chop.’ He made a shooing motion with his fingers and turned to pick up his chef’s overall. I made a decidedly ruder hand gesture to his back and left him in the kitchen.
No unexpected helping hand sent by my mother turned up throughout the morning the way Yolande and Marvin had the night before. I was facing the prospect of going through the same motions I had the previous day, which included covering breakfast, reception and helping out with the cleaning because of the staff still being off sick. Of course, they were still off sick. The flu didn’t disappear overnight.
Fifteen minutes before we stopped serving hot food, Nick appeared in the doorway. I was in the middle of putting down a large plate of fried food for Geoff, the ex-policeman, as his wife pursed her lips and dug her spoon into half a fresh grapefruit. Some weird kind of tremble overtook my hands and arms, as though the bones had softened, and I nearly dropped beans and bacon all over the tablecloth. Geoff didn’t even notice; he already had his knife and fork in hand and could barely wait until I stepped back before he tucked in.
I had tried not to think about Nick and Stephen being at breakfast and how I was going to play that. Their nan was already here, picking at toast and orange juice in a way that suggested she’d overindulged in her favourite brand of sherry the night before. Her face lit up when she saw Nick though and he smiled back at her. Good Lord that smile. I hadn’t imagined it; it really was that broad and warm and goddamn sexy.
Like a bucket of much-needed cold water on my errant thoughts, Stephen walked in and joined them all at the table in the corner. Perfect. No time like the present for a fresh start with them both.
‘Morning, Nick; morning, Stephen.’ I pasted a bright grin on my face when I reached their table.
Nick raised his head from where he had been reading the menu and wished me a quiet good morning.
Stephen finished tucking in his chair and leaned back in it, fixing me with a lazy grin. ‘Good morning, Beth. You weren’t kidding about the early start, were you. Bet you wish you hadn’t stayed out so late last night.’
There was an ungenerous edge to his comment, but I considered things from his perspective and figured my rejection might be smarting a bit more after finding I’d hung around to dance with his brother. I could let that go.
‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I could always do with a little more sleep.’ I was impressing myself a little with the act I was putting on: little bit of inane conversation; little bit of fake smiling – easy-peasy. I was also surprised by how much easier it was to meet Stephen’s eye than it was Nick’s. ‘I’m pleased I stayed to see the band though. A former student of mine was playing in it.’
‘Student? Are you a teacher too?’ Nick crossed his arms and rested them on the edge of the table. ‘You never mentioned it.’
‘Too busy dancing I guess.’ Stephen smirked and Nick’s eyes flicked to the side, towards the window in what looked like a barely restrained eye-roll.
‘And who shook your tree, young man?’ Dorie interjected and I realised she’d been watching us all very closely and quietly. Even hungover she looked sharp enough to figure something odd was going on. If I was picking up on the passive-aggressive comments from Stephen, his nan, who knew him far better than me, was sure to realise.
‘Oh, no one, Nan. I’m fine. Just one too many whiskies last night.’ He was as put together as usual, neatly pressed and immaculate, but there were bags under his eyes.
‘Well, no one begrudges you h
aving a drink. I’m sure you deserve to wind down on your holiday but don’t trouble others with your hangover.’
‘Fair point.’ Stephen held up his palm like he was taking an oath. ‘No more conversing for me until I’ve drunk some coffee and eaten a bacon sandwich.’
‘Well, I guess that’s your breakfast order. Can I get you anything, Nick?’ I tipped my pencil towards the menu on the table.
‘No. Thank you. I’m just going to grab some cereal.’ He was back to being his more serious and quiet self, nothing like the joking and dancing and smiling Nick of last night. And that didn’t matter. No more vows to get him to smile for me. I was a professional hotel worker, not a jester. Intentionally anyway.
‘Okay. How about you, Dorie?’ I turned my attention back to their nan. ‘Would you like anything else?’
‘A pot of tea, please.’
‘The regular kind or something fancy? We have Earl Grey, Darjeeling, Breakfast, Mary Jane—’ I broke off as Nick choked on the glass of orange juice he’d just poured himself. I moved around beside his chair, hand raised, ready to smack him on the back good and hard if required. ‘Are you okay?’
He put the glass down, clearing his throat and looked up at me. My stomach grew warm as I found the guarded expression in his eyes had been replaced with amusement.
‘I’m fine, thanks.’ He smiled and I lowered my hand awkwardly.
‘I didn’t think this was that sort of establishment.’ Stephen’s voice was all dry humour too but his expression, as he watched Nick and I, was narrow-eyed.
‘Okay, what have I missed?’
‘Um, Mary Jane tea?’ Nick raised his eyebrows, but I shook my head, still not getting it. ‘I think that blend’s more likely to be served in Amsterdam.’
I was still struggling to make the connection. Wasn’t Amsterdam more famous for coffee shops than tea – ohhh. Heat rushed up to my cheeks. ‘Lady Jane. Oh my God, I meant Lady Jane tea not…not…’
