Fir Lodge

by Sean McMahon

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Bloody Mary

  Saturday Morning, 7:59am

  Hal stirred from his sleep with a start, momentarily readjusting to his unfamiliar surroundings. The downside of Jess not coming with him was that he had been assigned a room with only single-sized beds to choose from instead of a double. It was a sleep devoid of stolen covers, and dogs stretching, that usually operated in tandem to force him into the one-eighth of sleep-space he was accustomed to. He smiled, noting that it was the most space he’d enjoyed whilst sleeping in a long time, whilst acknowledging that he missed the two ladies in his life, despite the fact that they frequently conspired to ruin his sleep at every opportunity.

  Hal reached for his phone to check the time, noting that it was 7:59am. One minute before his alarm was due to go off.

  ‘Rad,’ he muttered, rolling his eyes as the dulcet tone of an acoustic rendition of the track “Numb” began to spill from the phone. He killed it instantly, so as not to wake his brother Alex, who was still fast asleep in the bottom bunk of the adjacent bunk-beds. His attempt at stealth was largely negated, however, by the creaks and groans his spring mattress made as he rose.

  Safe in the knowledge he’d tried his best, he slipped out of the bedroom into the communal hallway, and ascended the wooden staircase that led to the voices of his friends, who were already up and milling around.

  “Having kids will do that to your body-clock I guess,” he thought, adding another tick to the column of boxes for reasons not to have them.

  The kitchen was alive with the sound of grilling. In an audacious display of Britishness, crumpets popped from the nearby toaster, and the sound of cereal reacting to cascading milk did nothing to draw his focus away from the nearby kettle. He was a zombie without coffee.

  Daisy breezed past him, grabbing the aforementioned crumpets, a tub of butter, and a cup of tea, multi-tasking with natural aplomb.

  ‘Morning Hal!’ said Daisy chirpily.

  ‘Mrng,’ mumbled Hal, yawning deeply as he opened and closed what felt like fifteen drawers, until he finally struck gold and located a teaspoon.

  Popping the cap off the whole-bean/instant blend of coffee he was rocking lately, and using his Terminator style vision to acquire the location of some sugar, he nabbed the milk from behind Fearne, who was clearly in the zone, working with Jon to knock up some epic bacon sandwiches for everyone. Making a mental note to pick these two up first in the event of a zombie-apocalypse, he retreated to the communal lounge area, which was invitingly illuminated by the rising sunshine.

  ‘How’s it going boss?’ asked Hal, plonking himself down next to Will.

  ‘Mate, I feel great, we should cut back on the drinking more often,’ said Will, almost whispering.

  ‘Yeah, this must be what winning feels like,’ noted Hal. ‘Mind you, clearly I’m better at pool when I’m drunk. I take it Robert is still recovering?’

  Will chuckled as only someone without a hangover would, when looking down from their ivory tower, at Robert’s misfortune, who had taken his drinking a notch too far.

  ‘Dead to the world apparently,’ said Will, ‘I think he pretty much finished that bottle of whisky he brought? He was in that hot tub for six hours straight too. Worryingly, he didn’t even get out to take a leak…’

  They sipped their coffees, and scrunched up their noses with simultaneous distaste at that revelation.

  Hal swallowed his mouthful of coffee, immediately feeling like a red-caped superhero who had recently returned from a long weekend retreat at the centre of the Earth’s sun.

  ‘I heard him professing his love for each of us when I popped out for a smoke,’ said Hal, recalling the moment that Robert began shouting about how they were all family, and him all but shaking Kara until she convinced him that she really did understand his point.

  ‘Poor chap,’ added Hal.

  Will laughed, and wrapped up the tangent succinctly by whispering ‘yeah, makes a change for it not to be us for once,’ as if speaking any louder would remind their nearby friends of their mile-long list of transgressions that no normal group would have forgiven them for.

  ‘Amen brother,’ said Hal.

  *

  Kara awoke with the grace of a startled pigeon that was reacting to the sound of a shotgun going off in the nearby vicinity. Holding her hands against her face, and running them through her short hair, she tried to shake off her hangover with a determined shudder. She reached for her phone and noted it was 8:09am, cursing herself for hitting the drinking hard the night before. She wasn’t entirely sure what day it was.

  “Saturday…” she realised.

  Kara looked over and noted that Jon, Rachel, and Jasmine were apparently already up and out of the room they’d all been sharing, just as Rachel hopped out of the en suite bathroom.

  ‘Heeey you! How you feeling?’ said Rachel, in the manner of someone approaching a ferocious tiger.

  Kara thought about the question, then dropped her head back onto her pillow, staring at the ceiling and emitting a soft groan of acknowledgement. Kara held up her phone, unlocking it with the fingerprint scanner. A message from Greg singed itself into her delicate retinas. She clicked on the message.

  “Hope you had a great night hun! It was so lonely without you last night! Xxx”

  She smiled, and made a mental note to reply when she was a tad more vertical, as opposed to her current state of being an occupant on a merry-go-round, one that was apparently localised entirely within her own internal sense of equilibrium.

  Sitting up, she stretched and summoned her secret superpower, permitting it to activate. There wasn’t a hangover she couldn’t power through; all she had to do was refuse to submit to it. She hopped out of bed, made her way to the en suite, and set the shower to a gentle, refreshing, ice-cold temperature, slightly disappointed by the realisation that there wasn’t a heat setting closer to that of liquid-nitrogen.

  *

  Rachel jogged up the stairs and caught Hal making what she knew was surely his second cup of coffee. Her partner Jon was brewing “proper coffee” in a percolator, a device that Hal had never possessed enough patience to try. He had always needed coffee yesterday, and was too impatient to wait for what he knew would be a far superior caffeinated experience. Hal’s ambivalence was forever neutralised by his need for instant, albeit granulated, gratification.

  Rachel winked at Jon, and he interpreted her signal. Grabbing another cup for her, he placed it next to his own, both cups speaking happily to each other via the medium of an audible clink.

  ‘So, what’s the plan of attack for today guys?’ asked Hal.

  ‘Breakfast, hot-tub, get drunk,’ said Jon, listing off the items on his non-negotiable agenda.

  Hal laughed, waiting for the customary one-second to expire, knowing that Rachel would elaborate.

  ‘Well,’ said Rachel, ‘we’re doing the barbeque this afternoon. Robert is doing his trademark paella, assuming he ever surfaces…and Will is doing his beef brisket. Then we’re going to change into our costumes.’

  Her comment caused Jon to frown.

  ‘And then get smashed,’ added Rachel, nudging Jon in the ribs playfully.

  Several months ago, each of the guests had received instructions to put together fancy-dress costumes for the Saturday. This year the theme was “Idols.” It was something of a tradition, and every year, each and every one of them attempted to up the ante.

  *

  Feeling refreshed and, more importantly, not smelling of tequila, Kara removed her costume from her carry-all and placed it onto her pillow, searching for a top to wear. She skipped into the communal hallway, up the wooden staircase, and into the kitchen, just as Peter was explaining to Jasmine how his recent construction contract in Vietnam had yielded enough monetarily to finance them moving into their first home together.

  Coupled with Jasmine’s pleasant reveal yesterday, whilst they were driving to the lodge, that her and her husband were having a baby, Kara
noted how quickly time was passing.

  It seemed like only yesterday that they were all downing prosecco and beers, spending their nights hitting the town. The same nights that had cemented their friendships into bonds that would never be broken.

  And then Kara smiled, as she realised that that was literally what they were doing yesterday evening and, perhaps, they weren’t all doomed to become full-blown adults quite just yet.

  Maybe that was what growing old was really all about. Not betraying your identity to be what you thought the world was telling you to be, but instead imbuing your adult persona with the quirks and idiosyncrasies of your younger self, empowered by the hindsight gained along the way.

  It was a poignant thought, one which she expertly gave credence to, as she bypassed the tea and coffee entirely, reaching instead for some tomato juice, some Worcestershire sauce, some Tabasco, and the salt and pepper shakers. She scoured the kitchen-counter looking for the last, crucial ingredient, experiencing a pang of relief as she located the vodka, and added all of the components together.

  “Much better,” she thought, as she gulped down her Bloody Mary.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Into the Woods

  Saturday Morning, 10:52am

  The morning passed quickly, as each of the gang applied their own personally-customised brand of hangover cure around their respective breakfasts. Feeling a lot more like themselves, they moved into the rear garden to soak up some sun. Hal remained in the protective shield of shade, cast by the gazebo Jon had erected the day before, whilst Fearne was busy at work, applying the final touches to some intricate Henna artwork to Daisy and Jasmine. Jon, meanwhile, was on the phone to the owner of the property, reporting that the hot-tub was cutting out at sporadic intervals. Ending the call, he informed Rachel that the owner would be popping in later to take a look.

  ‘All done!’ said Fearne, finally.

  The results were impressive, and both of her customers seemed chuffed to bits.

  For the first time since anyone could remember following a heavy drinking session, Will was looking positively recharged and raring to seize the day. Only Hal knew that this was due to their secret pact to dial-back the drinking.

  ‘Right, anyone fancy a walk through the woods?’ said Will. ‘I want to check out the lake!’

  Will had inexplicably purchased some junior fishing equipment, and had been adamant that he would use his impulsive investment at least once this weekend. Everyone knew that he wouldn’t get around to it before the weekend was done.

  ‘Count me in,’ said Hal, jumping out from the safety of the make-shift barrier of shade that the gazebo was providing, and running off to pack the only provisions he would need for this impromptu trek into the tamed wilderness that was surrounding them.

  Jasmine, Kara, Fearne, and Daisy all decided they were also up for the walk, and followed suit, heading to the driveway.

  Hal hopped through the front entrance door of Fir Lodge, and joined them on the gravel.

  ‘Right, I’m ready, let’s do this,’ said Hal.

  Kara narrowed her eyes, scrutinising the backpack he was sporting.

  ‘What could you possibly have in there that you’d need for a twenty-minute walk?’ said Kara.

  ‘Suntan lotion man!’ said Hal, as he pulled his shades from the collar around his neck, flicked them open, and popped them on. ‘I didn’t want to just carry a bottle of the stuff, that would look stupid!’

  ‘Yeah…no danger of that now,’ said Kara, mockingly raising an eyebrow.

  Hal feigned a look of sadness, as if she had hurt his feelings, then positioned himself in front of his friends.

  ‘Smile everyone!’ he said, as he took some selfies of the group, now that they were ready to embark on their expedition.

  *

  The group of explorers returned half an hour later than planned, due to hitting a dead-end, resulting in them having to backtrack over their entire route to make it back to the lodge. Will had suggested it would have been easier to have just swum across the lake, cutting their return time down significantly, but his partially-serious idea was vetoed by everyone, on the basis that it was terrible.

  Their return from the woods heralded the arrival of Michaela and Gavin, and with the final guests accounted for, Jon and Robert headed out to the rear garden to fire up the barbecue.

  Rachel and Hal headed down the stairs to greet them, and gave Michaela and Gavin a tour. This was Michaela and Gavin’s first real time away from their recently born little girl, but they seemed to be taking the separation in their stride. They were the calmest parents Rachel and Hal had ever seen, and never seemed intimidated or lost amidst their new-found responsibilities. Hal admired their laid-back approach, certain that his own parenting style would have been a combination of uncontrollable chaos and debilitating sleep-deprivation.

  Hal waited for the new arrivals to work their way through the group, hoping to steal some quality time with Michaela. Back in the day, he, Rachel and Michaela were inseparable. And whilst their busy lives had inevitably got in the way of them spending as much time together as they may have liked, they knew without a doubt that there was nothing they wouldn’t do for each other. If he ever needed to hide a body, these two girls were the ones he’d have on his speed-dial, with Jess as his getaway driver.

  ‘Hey Hal!’ said Michaela, throwing her arms around him, and planting a kiss on his cheek.

  ‘It’s so great to see you Mich’s, how’s the little-un?’ asked Hal.

  ‘She’s all good!’ said Michaela, using her index finger to push a runaway bang of her long, blonde hair back behind her ear. ‘Mum’s babysitting for us, it was so hard to leave her,’ she added, looking over Hal’s shoulder and around the lodge. ‘No Jess?!’

  ‘Nah, she’s looking after Shelby.’

  ‘Oh no, was really looking forward to catching up with her. Well, it’s so good to see you!’

  ‘You too!’ he said.

  It really was.

  After a short catch up, Gavin returned from fetching their bags from the car and moved in for a handshake. Extending one of his tattooed arms towards Hal, they both bailed on that idea and gave each other a hearty hug instead, as was generally customary with the men in the group. Gavin was taller than Hal, his modestly-toned body and handsome features making him an ideal ally for Peter, in the event that either of them ever decided to branch out into the glitzy world of modelling.

  With the formalities done and dusted, and the final guests now present and accounted for, Rachel gave Jon the green light to fire up the barbecue, and for everyone else to suit-up into their chosen costumes.

  *

  The two spectators watched the events unfolding before them, everything playing out in the same order it always did, hoping they had done enough. The young man looked over to the woman standing beside him, a stranger to him now…and yet, at the same time…somehow not. Her presence was simultaneously a comfort, and a horrifying reminder that everything was wrong. He blinked to release the tears that were building up in his eyes, like a wall of doubt, blurring his vision. His throat burned with regret, for a sin he could barely remember, one that he also had no desire to clutch on to any longer.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Man in the Plaid Shirt

  Saturday Afternoon, 1:53pm

  The barbecue was in full swing, with Robert’s now-legendary paella going down a storm, not that Robert could really enjoy it, given that he was still gingerly nursing the mother of all hangovers and didn’t want to push his luck by eating anything as ambitious as prawns. Using his stocky, muscular frame to his advantage, he had fully embraced being Santa Claus, presenting copious amounts of his own unique brand of hangover-tinged Christmas cheer, four months earlier than anyone was even remotely ready for. A white wig covered his short brown hair, conspiring with his real beard that he’d began sporting several months ago, causing him to sweat in the afternoon sun.

  The garden was filled by the tantalising s
mells of freshly-cooked barbecue food as everyone dug in, sitting themselves down on the benches, and breaking bread together for the first time in far too long.

  As everyone finished up their barbecued food, Gavin span onto the scene to top up the cups that were resting on the homemade beer-pong table that Fearne and Peter had brought with them, whilst Rachel headed inside to chuck some chicken wings in the oven, now that Jon and Robert had cooked all of the barbecue food they had brought. Wearing spats, a perfectly tailored yellow suit and, in a show of ultimate commitment, his face painted completely green, Gavin had begun to boil in the baking sun. But, as yet, there were no signs of smoke

  Hal and Alex were equally suffering beneath the scorching heat, currently dressed as two ghost-busting scientists, made famous in the 80’s. Their matching, tan-coloured boiler suits were emblazoned with rectangular name tags, their names embroidered with red stitching on a black background. Grey belts were wrapped around their waists, with heavy-duty, black chemical-gloves tucked through the belts on one side. Wrapped around their belts on the opposite side were home-made, portable ghost-containment units, attached with customised TV cables. Olive coloured arm pads complemented the look, together with inflatable versions of proton-powered, nuclear accelerator packs, which they wore on their backs. Their costumes were finalised by the thick, black, wellington boots they were sporting.

  Hal was distracted from the heat, somewhat preoccupied with making weak excuses as to why he couldn’t partake in the next round of the “epic beer pong tournament” that Jon and Gavin had organised. Both were in the process of thrashing Peter and his ghost-busting brother, as Santa Claus acted as referee.

  Dressed as none other than his golfing hero Tiger Woods, Peter was a proficient golfer in real life, and regularly spent long weekends away to hit some of the fancier courses. Hal suspected that Peter had used the excuse of needing a costume to fool Fearne, so that he could purchase another wave of golf merchandise.