by Emma Jackson
I gave a little nod and began leading the way for him. I had to guide him through the maze of furniture and guests, with a hand firmly around his arm, after he nearly tripped over twice. When we got back to the toilet, Rachel had managed to unlock the door and put the lid down over the seat so she could sit on top.
She looked up and her eyes were all for Ben as he raced over and knelt down in front of her.
‘Rach, are you all right? Has it started? Is the baby coming?’
‘Yes. Yes, it’s started.’ She took his hand and squeezed it, giving him a shaky smile. ‘I’ve had backache all day, but I just thought I’d done too much clean—’ She broke off again, squeezing her eyes shut and breathing hard through her nose.
‘Okay. Okay. It’s happening,’ Ben said to himself. ‘How far apart are the contractions? How far apart is it when we need to go to the hospital?’ When Rachel didn’t answer, he looked over at me, his face turning white. ‘I’ve forgotten. I’ve forgotten everything. What do I do?’
‘Umm, I’m no expert or anything, but they do seem close together. You probably need to get her to the hospital. Should I call an ambulance?’
‘Yes, yes. Call an ambulance. Oh God, does it hurt, darling?’ He rubbed her hand and Rachel shook her head a little. I thought, at first, she was trying to convince him that it wasn’t hurting when clearly that wasn’t the case, but when she got her breath back, I realised she was disagreeing with him.
‘No. We don’t need an ambulance. We should drive. They might not even get up the hill.’
‘Okay, okay, I’ll ask Lydia if we can borrow her car. We know that can make it.’ He went to stand up, but Rachel tightened her hand around his and he stopped.
‘Stay with me.’
‘I’ll go get her, you stay put, Ben.’ I backed out into the lobby just as the doors to the bar opened.
‘This isn’t any of your business, Nick, why are you getting yourself so involved?’ Stephen was saying.
‘I just want to see if they’re okay.’
‘You want to see if she’s okay.’
They halted in their tracks and their argument when they saw me. The door swung back behind them, whacking Stephen on the bottom as it came to rest.
‘What’s going on?’ Nick asked.
‘Rachel’s gone into labour and I think it’s happening fast. I’ve got to get Lydia so they can borrow her car to drive to the hospital. So, if you’ll excuse me.’ I made a parting gesture with my hands. They looked wordlessly at each other and then stepped to either side as though I was Moses or Moana.
I managed not to bang through the doors this time but still a few eyes swept over me curiously and then heads bent together whispering. Julius Mundey was watching me like a seagull waiting to swoop for a loose chip.
Dorie was shuffling cards and Noelle was sitting next to her on Stephen’s vacated chair, while Lydia hovered with the mince pies and when I reached them, they all abruptly stopped talking. That wasn’t suspicious at all.
‘Well, what have you done with my grandsons?’ Dorie asked. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes twinkling as she split the deck of cards and allowed them to slide back together again. ‘Putting them to good use I hope.’
‘The chance would be a fine thing,’ I blurted out, too preoccupied with Rachel’s predicament to worry about whatever she was insinuating and what an appropriate response would be. ‘Lydia, Ben has to take Rachel…’ I paused to lower my voice ‘…to the hospital, she’s gone into labour. Can he use your car?’
‘Oh goodness. Yes, of course.’ Lydia waved the tray towards me and then at the table, as though she didn’t know what to do with it. ‘The keys are in my handbag.’
‘Great.’ I knew she wouldn’t say anything else. ‘Aren’t you going to want to go with them?’
‘What would they need me for?’
‘I just wondered how you’re going to get home otherwise. They could drop you off – they’ve got to go down the hill.’
‘I see. No. You need me here. I’ll stay and walk back.’
She was not going to walk back in the middle of the night in knee-deep snow, but I figured that was a conversation for later, not when a woman was going into labour in the hotel toilets. Lydia could always stay over with me.
‘Okay, I’m going to grab the keys for him.’
As I walked to the bar, Noelle followed me, tipping the last of her vodka martini back. I didn’t bother to go behind the counter – I knew the handbag was by the cash register, so I just hopped up onto the foot-rail and leaned over to grab it.
‘How is she doing? Have her waters broken?’ Noelle asked as I riffled through trying to find the keys in the ridiculous contents of Lydia’s bag – honestly, how many pens did one woman need? ‘Are the contractions regular and close together?’
‘I don’t know about the waters.’ Not sure I wanted to know either. ‘But the contractions seem close.’ I shrugged. ‘I’m no expert.’ I eyed Noelle briefly before ramming my hand further down into the depths of the bag. ‘Are you?’
‘I trained as a midwife.’
‘That is a very happy coincidence,’ I exclaimed although I had to note that Noelle’s expression was the most sober I’d ever seen it. ‘And you say I’m a woman of many talents. Aha!’ I yanked the car keys out, stashed Lydia’s bag back behind the bar and started walking. ‘Are you coming?’ I asked over my shoulder.
She hesitated for the barest of seconds and then she was right there with me, marching for the doors again.
Rachel had made it out of the toilet into the lobby, but she was leaning on Nick’s arm as they moved towards the chair by the table with all the leaflets. Ben and Stephen were missing. Before I could even ask what was going on, the door to the toilet opened and Stephen appeared, propping up a very pale and wobbly Ben.
‘What’s happened to him?’
‘He fainted.’ If a voice could eye-roll, Stephen’s did at that moment.
‘Is he okay to drive?’
‘I would say not. Every time she has a contraction, he gets dizzy.’
‘Good Lord,’ Noelle muttered. ‘And we’re supposed to be the weaker sex.’ She moved past me to join Rachel as Nick helped her sit down, crouching down by her side to talk to her.
‘So how are we going to get Rachel to the hospital?’
‘We?’ Stephen raised his eyebrow at me and then looked over at Nick, who was standing back from Rachel and Noelle now they were talking quietly, probably about waters breaking and the like. ‘I think it would be best if Nick drives them.’
‘Why me?’
‘Because, you were the one who insisted on finding out what was going on out here. And because you’re a pilot. You’re used to having people put their lives in your hands as they hurtle along thousands of feet up in the sky. A bit of snow should be child’s play, right?’
Nick didn’t say anything.
‘Sounds logical to me. Would you drive them?’ I extended the car keys towards him.
‘I’ve had a drink,’ he said quietly.
‘One,’ Stephen argued.
‘And a half. I shouldn’t be driving anyone to hospital.’
‘You don’t have to go into the hospital,’ Stephen persisted. ‘Just get them there.’
‘That’s not the point.’ Nick kept tugging on the cuff of his jumper, pulling it down and wrapping it around his fist. I found myself wanting to move over towards him, like there was a thread between us and I could feel it vibrating with a tension that I imagined might ease if I touched him.
‘Isn’t it?’ Stephen’s eyes were dark and unwavering as he stared at his brother. It could have been anger, it could have been pleading but either way, this was not the time for their family issues to be ironed out. Rachel was sweating now, glassy-eyed and groaning as another contraction took hold of her and Ben looked like he was trying to find some strength in his legs and to move away from Stephen, but someone had shot him with a tranquilliser gun. I needed to get everyone back on track. N
o babies were going to be born in this stable tonight. Unless there was literally no other option, because I’d heard that babies don’t pay much attention to acting managers of hotels.
‘Look, if Nick says he shouldn’t drive because he’s had a drink, he needs to make that call. You on the other hand haven’t touched a drop. What’s wrong with you driving?’
‘What’s wrong with you driving?’ Stephen snapped back at me and I blinked and then laughed a little: so much for his pseudo-apology earlier.
‘I am the only member of staff here in case you hadn’t noticed.’
His nostrils flared and he looked around me towards… ‘Noelle. How about you? D’you drive?’
‘I’ve been drinking too. But I’ll come with you.’
‘Great, all sorted.’ I thrust the keys at Stephen before he could argue any further. ‘You get Ben out to the car first, the fresh air will probably do him good, then bring it around to the front steps and we’ll get Rachel there, with anything else she needs.’
And amazingly, there were no more arguments, and everyone did as I told them. Must’ve been the dress.
Chapter Eleven
By quarter past eleven Rachel was safely – I hoped – on her way to the hospital with Ben, Stephen and Noelle. The bar was empty. Nick was walking Lydia home because she had to be at the shop first thing to make up her final couple of orders for Christmas and I had to admit that maybe, just maybe, I’d pulled it off. The mince pies were all gone, along with a scary amount of wine. I was so relieved, I almost didn’t care about the billion pastry crumbs and dirty glasses I had to tidy up.
I made a start in the dining room, clearing the tables. It was a matter of priorities really; the bar could wait until tomorrow morning if need be. And by the time I’d loaded the dishwashers, it looked increasingly likely it would be needed. Half an hour had passed and I found myself detouring to the front of the lobby to look out of the window by the Christmas tree.
With only the lights of the Christmas tree and the garland around the desk glowing softly, I could see an avalanche’s worth of snow shining on the windowsills and not much else beyond. How long would it take Nick to walk down to the village? And would he be able to find his way back okay?
Of course he would. He was a pilot. He navigated the planet. He really didn’t need me to worry about him. And it wasn’t my place to worry about him, other than in a conscientious host kind of a way.
I slipped my shoes off because my feet were executing a slow throb and carried them back into the bar with me to survey the damage again.
It was worse than I remembered but Nat King Cole was still singing, silkily smooth and warm on the stereo, and the fire was burning low, red and orange embers sparking and falling into the grate. I took the risk of sitting down before it – the danger being I might fall asleep.
On the corner of the hearth where Nick sat earlier in the evening, there was a lone mince pie. They hadn’t all been eaten after all.
My stomach gurgled. I’d forgotten to eat dinner. There was no way I had the energy to go and make myself something in the kitchen. Even the thought of walking there was exhausting. But there were nuts and crisps behind the bar, and that lone mince pie, so I decided to snack my heart out in the hopes it would fuel me for the final clean-up. Or at least to stay awake long enough until Nick, Stephen and Noelle all came back, and I could lock up.
When I’d settled myself back down on the rug, with my midnight feast piled up, I grabbed the mince pie first. As I removed it from the foil case, I couldn’t help but think about Nick’s long fingers gently lifting the cut-out pastry and his bunching muscles as he wielded the rolling pin.
This really had to stop. I was becoming obsessed.
I shoved the whole pie in my mouth. Maybe I could push the thoughts of Nick out of my head by filling it up with pastry instead? As a deterrent for sexy thoughts, blocking a vital airway was quite effective.
‘Hey.’
I swung my face, hamster cheeks and all, in the direction of the doorway and of course, there he was standing, swathed in his great snuggly coat, hair tousled and cheeks pink.
I coughed and covered my mouth, frantically chewing, whilst waving with the other hand. Oh, the irony. Did I call this a mince pie emergency or a medical emergency?
By the time he reached me, I’d just about managed to swallow but there was still a worrying amount of pastry clinging to the roof of my mouth. I may have made a resolution not to cross any more lines with him, but that didn’t mean I wanted to talk to him with raisins stuck in my teeth.
‘Is it okay if I join you? I need to thaw out.’
I nodded and he stripped off his gloves and coat, a waft of fresh air and eucalyptus washing over me. He dumped the coat on the arm of the nearest chair and my pervy, disobedient eyes did a slow reconnaissance of him from top to toe; loose-fitting jumper that did nothing to hide the width of his shoulders, dark jeans clad around legs that went on and on forever. If he was a tree, I wanted to climb him. If I wasn’t careful, I’d stop licking my teeth clean and start licking my lips.
‘Would you like a nip of something to warm you up too?’ I offered; my voice hoarse. I told myself it was from inhaling a mince pie.
‘Yeah, maybe that’d be good.’ He held his hand in a stilling gesture as I started to move. ‘No, I’ll get it. You’ve served enough drinks tonight.’
‘Technically I shouldn’t let you go behind the bar,’ I protested feebly.
‘Technically, I probably shouldn’t have been allowed to bake mince pies for your guests either, but these things happen.’ He shrugged with one shoulder. ‘Would you like something?’
Would I ever.
No, bad Beth.
‘I’ll have what you’re having,’ I squeaked. While he was behind the bar, I stared at the ash crumbling in the fireplace and tried to give myself a serious talking-to. All this lusting after him was too intense. This was how I’d been with Peter when I met him, like a teenager with more hormones than I knew what to do with and no common sense.
Nick came back over cradling two shot glasses with clear liquid and instead of standing by the fire or taking a comfortably cushioned chair, he sat down next to me on the floor and stretched his legs towards the flames. He handed me the glass and I raised my eyebrows. ‘Neat vodka? You don’t mess about do you.’
‘It’s what they drink in Russia and it gets pretty damn cold there.’
‘Good point. How do they toast then?’
‘Very poetically, with far too many words for me to learn when I’ve been drinking vodka.’
‘Cheers it is then.’ I lifted my glass.
‘Cheers.’ The knuckle of one of his fingers brushed mine as we clinked our glasses together and we both hesitated a moment, a curl of warmth hitting my belly, before any alcohol even touched my lips. Then we knocked our drinks back and sat in a silence I was diligently trying not to label as ‘charged’.
‘How is it outside?’ I asked suddenly, because talking about the weather was safe.
‘Brass monkeys. But the snow’s stopped falling.’ That little half-smile tipped up at the corners of his mouth as he looked at me. His blue eyes danced fleetingly across my face and the edge of the smile softened, hinting it might grow further. Such a tease. ‘It’s beautiful.’
I took a deep breath and turned away, grabbing the nearest packet of snacks.
‘Nuts?’ I swung the bag in his direction for him to see and watched in horror as it slipped from my hand, sailed through the air and smacked him square on the cheek. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s okay.’ He laughed softly as he straightened his glasses. ‘Oh, hang on.’ He tilted his hips upwards so he could slide his hand in the pocket of his jeans to retrieve something and I nearly fainted. It hardly made it any better when I realised that the object was a bar of chocolate, which he proceeded to offer to me.
I took the chocolate. If I couldn’t have a piece of him, I was getting a piece of something.
‘What
is that?’ I said, after chewing and unexpectedly finding cherries packed inside.
‘It’s Australian.’
I coughed a bit. ‘Has that been in your pocket since you flew back from Australia?’
‘No. I brought it in my luggage and got one out today.’
I pressed my lips together. ‘You often carry a bar of chocolate around with you, just in case you’re peckish?’
‘You never know when you might need one.’ He shrugged and the pink in his cheeks wasn’t from the cold anymore.
‘That is so true.’ I laughed. He was like the child-catcher except he lured horny women in with his gorgeous face and sexy hip thrusts, then melted their ovaries with the offer of chocolate. Okay, maybe that was just me but still, it was almost aggressive to be that attractive a human being. I took one more bite and then handed his chocolate back to him because I figured if it meant enough to him that he’d fly it across the world, he wouldn’t want to watch me eating it all.
It was also strangely intimate when I saw him take a bite. The part where my mouth was, now on his tongue…
‘It was good of you to take Lydia home.’ I uncurled my legs, making a production of stretching my feet towards the fire and pulling my skirt down just to avoid looking at his mouth anymore.
‘I wanted to try and help.’ The smile disappeared and he frowned, crumpling up the empty wrapper and stuffing it into his shot glass. ‘Since I didn’t earlier.’
‘You couldn’t drive them earlier. You’d have been over the limit. The last thing Rachel needed was her only means of transport to get wrapped around a tree.’
He nodded a bit and turned abruptly to slide his glass onto the table behind us. This time his elbow touched my shoulder. I was starting to feel like one of those cut-out figures at a shooting range and every place he touched me was a bullet hole, except it wasn’t a gaping wound left behind, it was exactly the opposite; concentrated sensation blooming, heat radiating out.
Bang. He reached out for my empty glass too, which I had rested on my leg. He gently detached it from my grip, and I was bleeding pure desire as the ghost of his hand grazed over my thigh. I couldn’t move, I was frozen and because I was also scared he would notice, I grasped desperately for something to say to cover it up. ‘So, should my ears have been burning while you were with Lydia?’
