A Mistletoe Miracle

by Emma Jackson

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ I told her, launching myself up from my bed and grabbing the clothes I’d just changed out of. ‘I need to find out if he’s still here, so I can apologise.’

  ‘Oh, hon, he left yesterday. I saw him saying goodbye to his nan in the lobby after breakfast.’

  The air immediately escaped my balloon of hope.

  ‘You can always call him though, right? He must’ve given you his number?’

  He had given me his number. The first day we met, on a business card, which I’d…slipped into the pocket of my jeans. Now I just had to find the jeans. ‘Yeah, yeah I do have it somewhere. I have to go, Noelle. Have a safe flight okay?’

  ‘Sure thing. Good luck.’

  I thanked her and promised to get in touch soon, to let her know how it had gone, then I dropped my phone onto my desk and started ransacking my room for my jeans.

  My door opened and my mum came in.

  ‘Everything okay, Beth? What have you lost?’

  My mind, I wanted to respond but that’d only worry her. I took a deep breath and tried to appear calm. ‘My jeans, the light blue boyfriend-cut ones.’

  ‘I put them in the wash this morning.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

  ‘I am a bit upset about something actually.’ Beth Keenan, the master of understatement.

  ‘D’you need my help with anything?’

  ‘No.’ I felt like curling up in her arms and boo-hooing my whole mess of a short-term fling into her shoulder, but I wasn’t going to. ‘No, I don’t think so, Mum, not yet.’ Just because the card had gone into the wash, didn’t mean it was ruined. And just because I’d made a mistake, didn’t mean he would never forgive me. The guests had. This was a little different, but I wasn’t prepared to give up without a fight. If the disasters of this Christmas had taught me anything, it was that it wasn’t over until you’d done absolutely everything you could to make things right.

  The card was ruined. Nothing but a pile of white fluff, reminiscent of the snow that had caused me so much hassle this past week. No matter. I had a back-up plan.

  Mum was manning the reception desk in the lobby. It was coming up to half past eleven, our checkout deadline, so she was likely waiting for some guests to come down. I gave her a reassuring smile and went through to the office, settling myself at the computer.

  I should be able to get Nick’s number from the booking system. Normally, I never would’ve accessed his personal information like that, but he had given me his card, so in a way, he’d already given permission. I drummed my nails on the desk, waiting for the machine to warm up, and glanced out the door. The Hendersons were piling into the lobby, with their massive suitcases and thick winter coats at the ready.

  Ah-hah. The log-in screen popped up and I quickly typed in the admin details and searched under Cartwright but only Stephen and Dorie came up. Nick must have been on Dorie’s original booking, which had been intended for her and Nick’s mum. I could see where the additional room had been added, changing it from one twin room to two doubles and his name was listed but that was it.

  I collapsed back into the chair, my hands sliding from the keyboard. That was it. I’d exhausted every avenue I had to try and get hold of him. I was out of ideas.

  I stared into space, each of my organs turning to stone and weighing me down until I managed to rouse myself with a shake of the head, turned off the computer and went out to the reception desk. The Hendersons were still there and when Holly saw me, she called out my name and came running around the gap to give me a hug.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ her mother said. ‘Holly, come back here; you’re not meant to go behind the desk.’

  ‘It’s fine, honestly,’ my mum reassured her as she passed over the final printout of the bill.

  I gave Holly a little squeeze and straightened up. I could do this. I could deal with this terrible feeling of disappointment. My heart was not broken, because of course, I hadn’t been in love with Nick. It was just grazed.

  ‘So, have you had a fun Christmas?’ I managed to ask her in a normal-sounding voice.

  ‘Yeah. And guess what? Mum said when I go back to school I can learn the piano, like you!’ She bounced up and down in her pink welly boots.

  ‘Really? That’s brilliant,’ I exclaimed, the excitement in her big eyes warming me up where I’d gone cold inside.

  ‘Your carolling evening was quite the inspiration,’ Mrs Henderson agreed. ‘Come on, Holly, it’s time to go. Thank you, we had a wonderful holiday.’

  ‘Thank you too. You helped save Christmas Day.’

  She shrugged and smiled like it was all in a day’s work for her. ‘It was our pleasure.’

  They trooped out the door chorusing goodbyes and when the door swung shut behind them, Mum turned to me with a smile, crossing her arms over her neatly pressed shirt. ‘You’ve been doing double time this Christmas. As well as keeping the hotel going, you’ve been recruiting more people into learning instruments, haven’t you?’

  ‘It’s like a disease,’ I joked.

  She laughed but beckoned to me. ‘Come and chat to me while I do a quick stock-check in the bar. We seem to have got through a lot of alcohol this Christmas.’

  ‘Yeah…unfortunately I found that a complimentary round of drinks was the best way of keeping them happy.’ I winced as she unlocked the doors and we went inside.

  ‘Well, it worked.’ She closed the doors over behind us and headed for the bar. ‘So, I can’t fault your instinct. I’ll just need to restock a bit earlier than usual.’

  I jumped up on one of the bar stools, while she grabbed the folder under the cash register and flipped to an inventory page. The large room was a lot colder than it had been on the Mince Pie Evening. It was amazing how people changed a place, with their noise and their warmth. It was still a gorgeous space, with the ornate furniture and pretty decorations but the fire wasn’t lit and none of the twinkly lights were shining. The no man’s land between Christmas and New Year always gave things an odd desolate feel to me.

  My eyes strayed to the rug in front of the fire and I couldn’t suppress a sad smile. All the plans I’d had for spending Christmas at the hotel had come true in a way. I’d spent cosy evenings in front of the fire, and laughed and danced at the festival, and gone for brisk walks in the snow, but it had all been with Nick, not Peter, like I’d imagined. None of it had been part of a relaxing holiday either, but I had a sneaking suspicion it was still more fun than if I had been with Peter and it had all worked out like I planned.

  ‘You’re not talking much,’ Mum commented, her back turned as she checked the level on the vodka bottle.

  ‘Didn’t you ask me to come in here for a chat? I assumed you had something on your mind?’

  ‘I do actually. I need to talk to you about something.’ She noted something down in the folder and then snapped it shut.

  ‘About how you’re thinking of selling the hotel?’

  Her mouth gaped open for a second and then she rolled her eyes. ‘Lydia. Of course. I don’t know why I trusted her to keep it to herself.’

  ‘I don’t know why either.’ I laughed. ‘You’ve known her long enough to realise she would want to interfere.’

  ‘Very true. So…what are your thoughts?’

  ‘Mainly shock, if I’m honest, Mum. You’ve sacrificed so much of your life for this place. You sacrificed so much time with Dad, even when we knew there wasn’t going to be much left.’

  She flinched a little and I felt awful. I hadn’t meant it like an accusation. My low mood had made me speak more bluntly than I’d intended. I reached my hand out to her across the bar, but she waved it off, tucking her hair behind her ear.

  ‘Do you resent that? Do you resent this place?’

  I blew out a slow breath. ‘Not anymore, no. I think I can see why you love it now. Seeing the guests happy and knowing that you’ve helped create a good memory for them – that probably feels for you, like it
does for me when a student really starts to love playing. When their confidence grows, and it brings them happiness. It makes it worth the months of patiently coaching them through “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” for the fiftieth time.’ I smirked.

  ‘You’re right. I do love that. It wasn’t the only reason I spent so much time building this place up though. The financial commitment was there already. If I didn’t make it a success we would’ve sunk. Your dad understood that, and he needed to know we would be okay when he was gone. I put everything into this place for us, for you, Beth, because we had to provide for you. There were times after he was gone, when I considered giving it up and living a “normal” life but…regardless of whether we were here or renting a flat and paying off a crippling business loan by working a nine-to-five, your dad…he wasn’t coming back. The most important things that he made me promise him, over and over, were that I would make sure you found something in life that made you happy, and that I would try my hardest to make the hotel work for us, because he knew it was my dream and he didn’t want…’ She swallowed hard and tears sprung to her eyes. ‘He didn’t want our losing him to mean that we would give up on chasing our dreams.’

  ‘And that’s why you’re thinking of selling, rather than asking me to take on a manager role so you can retire? Because you don’t want me to give up on my music?’

  ‘Oh my God.’ She sniffed and laughed. ‘That woman. I should have invited her here, shouldn’t I, since she’s clearly as much a part of the family as we are.’ I laughed softly but didn’t say anything, waiting for her to dab at her eyes with a tissue and compose herself. ‘No. I didn’t want to ask you to give up your music…but since you came home, it’s seemed like you already have, so I started to wonder if maybe you would be open to working here permanently? The thing is…I don’t want to sell it. Not yet. But I do realise I need to step back and slow down a little.’ She played with the edge of the tissue, making sure the corners weren’t crumpled and folding it to hide the smears of mascara.

  I shifted on my stool, tucking my hands underneath me as I waited for the big question.

  ‘So, what do you think? Would you like to officially become Assistant Manager at the Everdene Hotel?’

  I wanted to say yes because it was perfect really. The stable, secure job I’d been telling myself I needed since I gave up tutoring when I was with Peter. It wouldn’t be boring – Christmas had proved that much – and I cared about the place. I genuinely did now understand how important it was to do the job well, not just to keep the business going, but to contribute to the guests’ enjoyment of a well-earned break. But…I missed teaching, so much. Seeing Callum play at the festival and playing for Nick, inspiring little Holly to take up the piano. Those were the things that lit me up inside. How could I give that up permanently?

  I looked at Mum’s face. She was masking her eagerness so well. I knew she didn’t want me to say ‘yes’ unless I really wanted to. If only there was a way to make us both happy…

  ‘Does it have to be a full-time role?’ I asked. ‘You’ve said about wanting to step back but that doesn’t mean going into full retirement straight away does it?’

  ‘No.’ Mum cocked her head to the side. ‘No. I’ve still got another decade before I’m retirement age.’ She leaned her arms on the bar opposite me. ‘Are you saying you’d do it, if it was part time?’

  I nodded once slowly and then again more definitely. ‘Yes. Yes, exactly. Then I could still tutor in the rest of my time.’

  ‘You don’t want to give it up then?’

  ‘No. I thought I had to because I couldn’t do it and hold down a job that would pay me enough to support myself but…if I’m living and working here, I could do it. That is, if you don’t mind having your fully-grown daughter still living at home.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be daft, Beth, of course I don’t mind. You will always have a home with me.’

  I jumped down from my stool and raced around to the other side of the bar to give her a huge hug. As long as I had my mum, I always had someone who loved me unconditionally. There was a little pain in my heart that went along with the gratitude though, as my thoughts strayed to Nick again. Would he make it back to his childhood home to say goodbye?

  ‘There is one issue with the tutoring though,’ Mum said, squeezing me and moving back. ‘The noise. The guitar is not a problem, you can do that up in our flat but with the piano in the library… the noise does disturb the hotel.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I used to get complaints when you were practising when you were a teenager.’

  ‘I never knew that.’

  ‘No, well, I wasn’t going to stop you. You played beautifully, it’s just that some guests don’t want to hear the same piece over and over.’

  ‘I see. I suppose I’ll just have to keep it to the guitar then.’ I tried to keep the note of disappointment out of my voice. I had no right to be disappointed really. This was going to work out better than I had dreamed. I just loved the piano too.

  Mum rubbed my arm, because I wasn’t hiding my feelings as well as I hoped. ‘If only there was somewhere else, we could put that piano.’

  There wasn’t anywhere else though. Even in here, in the bar, you’d be able to hear it in the communal spaces and I couldn’t use a bedroom; that would be even worse. Our flat was too small for it and getting it up there would be a nightmare. Short of playing it at the end of the garden—

  ‘Oh! What about if we converted the outhouse into a studio? Is that feasible? It’s far enough away it wouldn’t bother anyone, but it would take some money… I could put my wages towards it while I’m getting the guitar lessons established. What do you think?’ I linked my hands together and pressed them to my mouth as I watched for her reaction.

  Her blue eyes darted from side to side as she figured things out in her head and then she smiled. ‘That’s a fantastic idea, Beth.’

  ‘Yeah? You think it could work?’

  ‘We’d have to get another shed, but the outhouse is full of junk. We could easily clear fifty per cent of it out.’

  ‘And once I get it set up, I could offer tasters for kids – or adults – to learn an instrument while they’re staying. You could even do retreats for people. You know, like how writers and artists go to stay for a week somewhere beautiful, free of distractions? People could stay here and see whether after a few daily lessons they want to take up learning when they go home.’

  ‘I love it.’ She cupped my cheeks and tiptoed up to kiss me on the forehead. ‘If it’s going to be part of the business, we can expense the building work – no need to wait.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ She hurried over to the fridge beneath the bar and pulled out a bottle of champagne. ‘This calls for a celebration.’ She popped the cork and I grabbed two glasses.

  ‘What are we toasting to?’ I asked.

  ‘To never giving up on our dreams.’

  ‘To never giving up,’ I agreed.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  If I was going to start teaching again, I needed to get my guitar. That meant going back up to London to see Peter. And since I had an invite to Lisa and Geri’s New Year’s Eve party, it was the perfect opportunity. Most of the staff were back from their bout of flu so Mum could spare me from the hotel for a couple of days.

  I was looking forward to getting some closure with Peter and letting my hair down with my friends before I started executing all the plans Mum and I had scratched out in the bar a couple of days ago on the back of a delivery note, while drinking bubbly. It was definitely worth celebrating…even if a certain someone was on my mind every time I saw a plane flying overhead. There are a hugely inconvenient number of planes up there.

  I may have watched that video of Nick and I dancing together at the festival a couple of times too, because I liked to torture myself. Lisa had been right: I had looked happy, from what I could see. Mainly it was a blur of our coats and hair and flashing reindeer antlers, seen through someone’s wob
bly camera work, but there was the bit at the end… Oh, it got me every time. As he spun me under his arm and I looked up at him and he looked down at me, his gorgeous smile wide and all for me.

  If only someone he knew had seen him and tagged him, I could have found him through social media. And yes, I had done a miserable stalker-like search and come up with nothing. It looked like he didn’t have an account at all, which was ironic considering I’d accused him of being a social media influencer.

  It was time to give up before I creeped myself out.

  I packed a bag with my new party dress and a set of comfy pyjamas for the inevitable New Year’s Day hangover and started the one bus and three trains journey I needed to get back up to the city. The south of England was still half covered in snow, like a slice of birthday cake wrapped in a paper napkin, the white icing all crumpled to the edges. I plugged in my earphones and tried to enjoy the views as it changed from rolling hills and quaint villages, into the world of high-rise buildings, industrial estates and Starbucks.

  The song in my earbuds dipped in volume as the train approached Gatwick and I happily took my eyes off the sight of all the planes lined up on the tarmac to check the notification that’d just come in on my phone.

  Noelle: Have you called Nick yet?

  Me: I couldn’t find his number.

  Noelle: How are you feeling about it?

  Me: Gutted, but what can I do?

  Noelle: Good question. You still going up to London for your friends’ NYE party?

  Me: Yup. I’m gonna dance my blues away.

  Noelle: I strongly approve. I’m going to text you a bit later. I need coffee, I’ve only just got up, but you need to keep your phone on you okay? No losing it.

  I raised an eyebrow at the strange note of urgency in her last message but promised her, nonetheless, I would try not to lose my phone again. I loved that our friendship was growing so easily, another good thing to have come out of the chaos of Christmas.

  When I got to Geri and Lisa’s nearly an hour later, they grabbed me in a massive hug as though we hadn’t seen each other in years rather than months. Lisa showed off her ring, which did suit her absolutely perfectly and we had another massive hug before we got down to the business of setting up their small terraced house in Fulham for the party.