Winter Wishes at Swallowtail Bay: a heartwarming romantic comedy perfect for curling up with this Christmas for fans of Jill Mansell (Swallowtail Bay, Book 3)

by Katie Ginger

  Nell nodded. ‘And Bryan with a Y treated me appallingly, but …’

  ‘But?’ Tom reached down and began unfurling some more of the fake tree branches ready to hand to Nell.

  ‘But …’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It feels a little bit like I’ve stolen their guests.’ Tom shook his head at her and even though his gaze was kind, she bristled. ‘What?’

  ‘You just make me laugh, that’s all. It’s not like you went in there wearing a sandwich board advertising your hotel. We went for a quiet dinner, they treated you badly and you end up feeling guilty. You’ve always cared too much about other people.’

  ‘I’m going to take that as a compliment.’

  ‘It’s a wonderful quality. It’s what makes you different to …’

  When he didn’t finish Nell looked up. ‘To who?’

  Tom kept his eyes on the tree and Nell couldn’t understand why he was so embarrassed. ‘To everyone really.’ Then he brightened. ‘Have we got time for a coffee before the marketing gurus arrive?’

  ‘I think so. I’ll go and make some in a second and get a tray ready for the meeting.’

  Mr Scrooge appeared at the window again, rubbing his body against the pane asking to come in. Nell opened it and as Mr Scrooge climbed in, he gave one look at the half-built enormous fake Christmas tree and decided it wasn’t worth his time before finding a chair to sit in. As he circled, getting ready to sleep, he gave Tom an evil glare and hissed when Tom reached his hand out.

  ‘That cat must belong to someone,’ Tom said. ‘Though he’s still quite skinny so he could be a stray.’

  ‘I keep feeding him up every time he comes in. Actually, do you want to make some drinks while I finish this off? I don’t want to leave it half done when the marketing people come. I don’t mind it not being decorated but I’d like the tree pretty much made up if I can.’

  Tom agreed and shuffled off to the basement kitchen to make some drinks. He came back a few minutes later with two cups and a plate of food for Mr Scrooge.

  ‘You’re such a softie,’ Nell teased as she blew her tea to cool it.

  On seeing the food, Mr Scrooge jumped down off his chair and hunkered by the fire, scoffing. Before long, the marketing people were due, and Nell flitted nervously around while Tom tried and failed to fuss the cat. Every time his hand went near Mr Scrooge, the cat would either recoil, bat it away with claws out, or hiss. ‘Do you think he’s been abused or something?’ she asked, moving to the cat who allowed her to stroke him.

  ‘Possibly. He seems quite happy with you, but he doesn’t like men.’

  ‘If that is the case that’s really sad.’ She leaned down and gave him another fuss. ‘Isn’t it, poor Mr Scrooge?’

  Nell drank her tea and watched the waves dance together in the sea through the window of the lounge. The sky was a pale grey and rain tapped against the window. The watery late-autumn sun shone through the gaps in the heavy cloud and when it came through the window, she could feel the warmth on her face. In the holly hedge that surrounded the hotel, birds hopped in and out of the gaps, chirping happily. The very top of the Christmas tree wasn’t quite finished as she spotted the marketing duo arriving. Once they were walking through the arced iron gate and down the front path, she rushed to greet them at her little reception desk in the hall. ‘Hi, I’m Nell.’ She held out her hand for them to shake.

  A woman in her mid-twenties wearing the skinniest fitting jeans Nell had ever encountered, along with a luminous pink shirt and matching trainers, gave her a firm handshake. The man with her had lank hair pulled back into a man-bun and was wearing jeans that, as he walked towards her were so low slung, they barely covered his bum. A slim-fitting shirt had been tucked into the waistband and he wore very shiny blue shoes. His handshake was what Brenda would have described as wet and his fingers slid in and out of Nell’s in a way that made her skin crawl. Still, she welcomed Nadia and the ironically named Manley into the lounge. Apart from her little reception desk, her office was mainly her studio flat in the basement, so the lounge would have to do, and given that at the time of organising it she didn’t have any guests, she hadn’t foreseen a problem. Luckily, Harry was still in his room, probably sleeping off some jetlag. In her mind, she repeated his name, replaying the American twang with which he pronounced it, then grabbed her notebook and carried on with the introductions.

  Tom, she could see, was already amused as Nadia set up her laptop on one of the small coffee tables before standing and clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. ‘Right, let’s start by talking about you.’

  Nell shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She was never very keen on talking about herself. ‘What do you want to know exactly?’

  ‘Well …’ Nadia was worryingly enthusiastic with her hands and Nell thought she might get accidentally slapped in the face if she got too close. ‘You’re the heart and soul of this business, Nell. We want to know all about you, Nell Jones, and Nell Jones’s vision for the future.’ Every time she spoke her hands flew around like she was directing traffic and the end of each sentence lifted up as if she were asking a question. The repeated use of Nell’s name grated like nails down a blackboard. A textbook tactic to build a rapport with her and make this seem more personal, but really it was just extremely irritating. ‘So, Nell, like, what’s the hotel’s USP? What’s your USP? It all comes down to you, yeah? Like what is your ultimate vision for the future, for Nell …’ Her eyes darted to the screen of her laptop, checking her notes.

  ‘My what now?’

  Though Nadia’s slightly manic grin remained intact, she took in a tiny breath of annoyance. ‘Your vision for the future. So, like, where do you see yourself in five, ten years’ time, Nell?’

  ‘Umm, here. I suppose. Doing this.’ She motioned around her. ‘Maybe with a few more guests but …’ Two sets of eyeballs narrowed, telling Nell her answer was less than sufficient. ‘I just want some ideas as to how I can market the place better, that’s all.’

  ‘Well,’ began Manley, in the highest, reediest voice Nell had ever heard. It was so high even Tom jumped in surprise. ‘In order to do that we need to know where you want your business to go. Where’s it headed, okay? Where is Nell Jones going?’

  ‘Ah huh,’ agreed Nadia, nodding with such vehemence she looked like one of those bobble head toys you get on car dashboards. ‘This stratosphere? The next stratosphere? Are we talking Mars level of ambition?’

  Nell glanced at Tom, who, as well as enjoying himself thoroughly, had an annoying, I-told-you-so look on his face. This wasn’t what she’d had in mind at all. She’d thought they’d have told her where was best to advertise and whether adverts in the local paper or the luxury retreats websites were more worth the money. She didn’t realise she was going to be interviewed by trendy youngsters speaking a language she didn’t understand. All she wanted was to make her hotel as successful as it could be. ‘Umm, I just want to know where the best place to advertise is really. I’ve got reviews on HotelRater and I’ve got a website—’

  ‘Wow,’ said Nadia in a really patronising manner that made Nell’s muscles instantly tighten up. ‘I mean, it’s a start but, I’ll be honest, that is so basic.’

  Seeing Nell’s face, Manley cut in. ‘But we all have to start somewhere. So good job.’ He gave a strange, double thumbs-up and Tom stifled a giggle.

  ‘True, true.’ Nadia nodded again. ‘But we can take you to the next level in luxury hospitality. If we do your marketing plan including an awesome new logo, top-quality photographs and deluxe marketing package, we can put you on Mars, Nell. Mars!’

  Nell had no intention of going to Mars. All she wanted was to be here in Swallowtail Bay, just with more visitors.

  ‘This place is fab, Nell,’ Nadia continued. ‘We checked out your website and you’ve made this place look good. There’s top-quality design here.’ Considering she wanted to remove Nadia from the building by her long dangly earrings, it was a compliment Nell was willing to take. ‘You�
��ve got good reviews on HotelRater apart from that one from yesterday and—’

  ‘What?’ Nell shot a quick glance at Tom who, from the puzzled look on his face, didn’t seem to know anything about it either. She’d never had a bad review in her life. All right, there might have been a couple that leaned more towards the moaning side than out and out praise, but no one had mentioned anything other than matters she couldn’t control like bad weather, or an attraction being closed. ‘What bad review?’

  ‘Here, look.’ Nadia sat down and loaded up HotelRater then turned the screen to face Nell and Tom. Nell read it slowly, taking in each word and a searing hot fire crept up her spine.

  Some unnamed person, who had apparently stayed on dates they weren’t prepared to specify, spoke about the poor food at breakfast (Mrs Meggett, who came in and cooked for her would be livid and rightly so, her full English breakfasts were to die for), they moaned about the quality of the beds, the moody and hardly ever there owner who never listened to anything they said. It was all so utterly preposterous, Nell didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t recall the guest or think who it might be; no one had ever complained to her. Her guests had always left with glowing compliments and big happy smiles. And she hadn’t had that many lately, so she’d definitely remember these people by the sounds of it.

  Then there was the video. Only one video was listed on the page linked to her hotel and she clicked to view it. Her stomach dropped to the floor and bounced back up again ricocheting off her throat. It was of her and Tom’s attempt at dinner last night at the Langdon Mansion Hotel and being asked to leave. The Langdon Mansion had been tagged too. She felt sick. Her throat closed over and she had to push through it to swallow. That person who’d been angling their phone must have recorded the whole thing and uploaded it.

  ‘Oh my God.’ Nell sat back and pointed at the screen. Tom moved closer and placed his arm around her, trying to calm her down. ‘Someone’s posted that video from last night, Tom. Why would they do that?’ Did they think it would expose the Langdon Mansion’s shoddy treatment of her? Even if they did, she still couldn’t figure out who’d left this review.

  ‘It’s the world we live in, I’m afraid,’ Tom replied.

  They both knew how damaging this could be. She came out of it looking mildly better than the Langdon Mansion but there was still the possibility that people might think their accusation was true. They didn’t know her or how honest she was, or how much she loved her hotel. And now this bad review had popped up, it really didn’t help her situation at all. ‘The whole wide world has seen me be asked to leave for sabotaging my competitor.’

  ‘Being accused of,’ Tom corrected. ‘You did nothing wrong.’

  ‘But it’s the whole world, Tom. The whole wide world.’

  Nadia turned the laptop back around. ‘Umm, yar, it is the world wide web after all. That’s the beauty of it, it doesn’t matter where you are, you can find out anything about anyone, anywhere.’

  Nell pinned her, channelling Brenda’s death stare, and felt Tom’s hand stroke small circles on her back. He must have seen she was on the verge of ripping out Nadia’s throat then shoving her out by the scruff of her neck because he suddenly closed the laptop and stood up.

  ‘I think we should call it a day,’ said Tom, saving Nadia from a near certain death. ‘Thanks for coming. We’ll have a think about what you’ve said and come back to you, okay?’ Nadia looked at Manley, shocked that their sales pitch hadn’t worked. ‘Yes? Good. Thanks. This way. Don’t forget your coats.’ Tom shepherded them out while Nell paced around the room.

  Anger and annoyance were pulsing through her muscles. She began fiercely placing the branches into their designated slots on the tree to take her mind off it, pulling them into place and spreading out the fronds. When Tom walked back in, she couldn’t look at him for fear he’d be nice, and she might cry. ‘What the hell is that video doing online? Why do people feel the need to do that type of thing?’ Tom began to help with the tree, gently easing out the branches that were higher up. ‘Do you think I should email the Langdon Mansion and let them know?’

  ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘Because they might not know it’s been uploaded, and I want them to know it wasn’t me. We don’t need any more animosity.’

  Tom scowled. ‘In my opinion, if they don’t know, then that’s just tough. They’re the ones who come out of it looking bad.’

  ‘Not to me. I’m so embarrassed, Tom.’ Just thinking of it sent a prickle up her spine that danced on the back of her neck. ‘And that’s if people believe I didn’t do it on purpose.’

  ‘Of course people will know that.’ Tom’s voice was rising, and Nell could tell he was getting a little bit cross with her doubting herself again.

  ‘But shouldn’t I show some professional courtesy and let the Langdon Mansion know I didn’t put it up there?’

  ‘No way, Nell.’ She widened her eyes at his forcefulness. ‘They should be apologising to you, not the other way around. If this damages their reputation, that’s tough luck on them. They shouldn’t have been complete arseholes.’

  That was true. ‘Oh, shit! What if Mum and Dad see it?’ Nell could feel a pinch in the skin around her eyes, and she played the conversation in her mind. Her dad calling full of disappointment and her mother in full crisis management mode. They’d be up here like a shot. She couldn’t have that. She grabbed a bauble from the box and cradled it. ‘All I want is to have enough visitors to keep my hotel open. I don’t want to win tonnes of industry awards, I don’t want to rule the world, or colonise Mars or whatever it was Nadia was talking about. I just want enough to pay the staff and stay open and make the guests I do have happy. Is that too much to ask?’

  ‘No, it’s not, Nell.’ Tom reached his long arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close. ‘Look, I’ve always said we can figure out this marketing thing ourselves. Let me do some research and we’ll find the best places to advertise.’

  ‘Okay.’ It was time to pull herself together. ‘I’m going to email HotelRater and see if they can take the video down. Until then, we’ve got the wedding fair to think about and we can explore this dining room idea some more.’

  ‘That’s the spirit. You just have to hang on in there through this rough patch.’

  He gave her a squeeze and Nell relaxed a little. ‘You’re right. I’ve got some guests booked in so I’m going to make sure they have the best time possible and leave me glowing reviews. The Summertons are here for a romantic stay and I’m going to make their room lovely for them for when they get back.’

  ‘But don’t go mental. That’s part of your problem. You always want everyone to have such a nice time you end up spending more than you make personalising everything, even down to the wine.’

  She didn’t tell him she’d spent ages this morning choosing some speciality liquor chocolates or that she’d brought a small bunch of red roses from the supermarket for the room (as well as grabbing those mince pies). Mr Scrooge rubbed himself against Nell’s legs and she reached down, stroking his fur, which was warmed by the fire. It was becoming less and less coarse the more he came in. She really was developing a soft spot for him. ‘Right, I’d better get this tree decorated. I’ve got the knit and natter group this afternoon and then Cat and I are meeting her caterer this evening.’

  ‘Is Brenda coming?’

  ‘No, thank God. She’s got bridge with some women from the WI. Cat deliberately booked the meeting for when Brenda was busy and hasn’t even told her about it.’

  ‘What?’ Tom feigned disbelief. ‘You lied to the terrifying Brenda Wilson?’

  ‘I didn’t.’ Nell confirmed with a cheeky grin. ‘Cat did.’

  Chapter 7

  The fire burned in the grate and the smell of cinnamon and apple from Tom’s fancy twig display filled the room.

  ‘That was thoughtful of Tom,’ Cat said, pointing to the wonderful display he’d made then settling back into the armchair she always chose. M
r Scrooge, who had left shortly after Nadia and Manley, had come back in some time ago and after eating an entire tin of tuna, had curled up on the windowsill. From the way he had devoured it, the poor stray was definitely getting better. Nell was so used to having him around, he was becoming like part of the furniture.

  ‘It was. I don’t think I know anyone as kind and caring as him.’

  ‘Hey! I’m kind and caring.’

  ‘You are indeed,’ Nell confirmed. ‘But I mean, a guy who’s kind and caring. You also have a no-nonsense scary side.’

  ‘That’s the midwife in me. Sometimes you have to take charge to stop people panicking or getting overwhelmed by it all.’

  Cat was sitting with a pink gin and tonic while Nell nursed a hot chocolate. They were the only things to warm her up on cold winter nights like this. While she sipped, enjoying the rich chocolatey taste, she brought Cat up to date on her eventful few days: the dinner disaster at the Langdon Mansion Hotel, the lovely time she’d had with Tom afterwards as they walked back with their fish and chips, laughing at the ridiculous menu, and the spider-soup video ending up on HotelRater. She even managed a quick rundown of nodding Nadia and man-bun Manley who had tried to sell her a marketing plan based on NASA.

  ‘Wowzers,’ Cat said, after sipping her drink. ‘At least it wasn’t the other way around and someone found a fly in their breakfast here or something.’ Nell gaped at Cat because the very thought was enough to turn her stomach. If something like that happened, she’d be mortified and certainly wouldn’t automatically blame the customer. The thought that she’d have to have words with the formidable Mrs Meggett was beyond terrifying.

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ Nell replied. But even though the marketing meeting had been a complete waste of time, there had been one good point in the afternoon that followed.

  Nell had finished the tree, placing the last tiny wooden decoration on it, as the knit and natter group made themselves comfortable in the lounge. She loved the knit and natter group and the way it brought different generations of women together. They’d been coming to the hotel since her mum and dad had owned it and Nell loved the feeling that Holly Lodge was a part of the community. She knew what they all had to drink and had prepared the trays with some festive biscuits she’d bought from the posh baker’s in town. Some of the ladies were older and able to knit without looking at their hands, chatting away without dropping a stitch. Some of the younger ones enjoyed the chance to absorb the older women’s knowledge as they discussed their children’s ailments or difficulties in their love lives. More than once Nell had been on the receiving end of their advice when it came to men, even if she never asked for it.