Christmas Secrets in Snowflake Cove (Michaelmas Bay Book 1)

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Christmas Secrets in Snowflake Cove (Michaelmas Bay Book 1) Page 8

by Emily Harvale


  ‘Not literally under her, I hope, Darren.’ Evie made it sound like a joke but she held his look when she said it. ‘It’s odd you know, because I could have sworn I saw you this afternoon coming out of your cottage. It was sometime around four, I think. But that couldn’t have been you if you were chained to the desk. Could it? And you wouldn’t have had a woman with you.’ She leant forward as she handed him his beer. ‘Would you, Darren? Because if anyone had seen you they might have got the wrong impression entirely.’

  He took the pint and stared at her. He didn’t flinch or bat an eyelid. ‘Would they, Evie? Even if they were sticking their noses in where they shouldn’t? Even if they were adding two and two together and making five? Well then, it’s a good thing everyone knows how much I love Juniper. And it’s a good thing it wasn’t me you saw at four this afternoon. Isn’t it?’

  That wasn’t the reaction Evie had expected but before she could say more, Jessie came and stood beside her.

  ‘You look exhausted, Darren. Your parents would turn in their graves if they saw you looking like that. You need to take things slower, my boy, or you’ll be dead before me.’

  ‘Thanks for the advice, Jessie. Helpful as always. Cheers.’ He held up his pint and took several gulps before putting it down on the bar and letting out a long sigh. ‘Sorry. It’s been a shitty day and it just got a whole lot worse. I know you’re Juniper’s best friend, Evie but I thought you were my friend too.’

  ‘What’s this?’ Jessie asked, looking from Evie to Darren and back again.

  ‘Nothing Gran,’ Evie said. ‘We were just having a little disagreement about work.’

  ‘I’ll leave you to it then. One of those armchairs is calling me. I haven’t made up my mind which one yet but I’m sure a glass of sherry will help me decide. No fighting, you two. This is the festive season. Good will to all men and women.’ Jessie wandered off to pour herself a sherry and find a comfortable chair by the fire, no doubt telling someone else to get out of it, if she had to.

  ‘I am your friend. But if I have to choose, it’ll be Juniper. You’re not going to make me choose, are you, Darren?’

  ‘That depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On how well you can keep a secret. I think I know you well enough to realise you can’t, so all I’ll say is this. I love Juniper with all my heart and I’d never do anything to hurt her. In fact, I’ll do everything I can to make sure she doesn’t get hurt. And I’m not having an affair, which is clearly what you think I’m doing. It would be great if you would believe me, trust me, and let this go.’

  Evie stared at him. His eyes didn’t flicker for a moment.

  ‘OK Darren. I believe you, trust you and I’ll let it go. But I’m telling you now that if you hurt Juniper in any way, you’ll live to regret it. And I’ll also say this. Juniper already thinks you’re having an affair. She told me so only yesterday but it seems she’s convinced herself otherwise today. If you love her as much as you say you do, I think you need to prove it.’

  Now he did look shocked and he blinked several times in rapid succession. ‘She thinks what? Why?’

  ‘Because you’ve been acting differently lately and giving her odd looks. And you’re always at work.’

  He closed his eyes, sighed again and shook his head. ‘Thanks Evie. I hadn’t realised I was doing that. I’ll deal with it, I promise. And I don’t think you’ll hate me, come Christmas.’

  ‘I don’t hate you. But I will if you hurt Juniper.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Christmas trees inside the inn looked stunning, even in daylight. Having spent an hour after breakfast, stringing lights and weather-proof baubles with Raven’s help, the outdoor trees also created the perfect ambience and the lights now sparkled in the late afternoon sun. By dusk, which was rapidly approaching, they would turn into a kaleidoscope of colour and, as they were on a timer, no one had to remember to switch them on.

  Evie was grateful for that. It meant one less thing to think about which was just as well, because today had been somewhat chaotic. After last night’s ‘tree dressing’ turned into a party, virtually everyone in Snowflake Cove was nursing varying degrees of hangovers today. Evie drank more than she had intended, thanks to a mixture of joyful exuberance due to things seemingly taking a turn for the better with regard to the Starr family’s finances, and guilt, due to the fact that she was keeping something from her best friend. But as she didn’t know exactly what it was she was actually not telling Juniper, she couldn’t do much about it other than enjoy the evening and hope for the best. And she had definitely enjoyed last night – from what she could remember of it.

  How the family had managed to get everything done to have the inn ready for the imminent arrival of their new guests was nothing short of a miracle. Without Roland and Robin’s assistance again, it wouldn’t have been possible, but by five minutes to four, preparations were complete and the Starrs were sitting down enjoying a pot of tea and leftover ‘party’ food.

  The landline rang at precisely four p.m. and Evie dashed to the reception desk to answer it.

  ‘This is Felicia Porter-Brunsnorth. We’ll be arriving at the car park in ten minutes, according to the Sat Nav. I assume someone will be there to meet us.’

  Despite having clearly told the harpy with two names that they needed twenty minutes’ notice to have the carriage ready, Evie smiled and hoped the panic in her voice was not apparent.

  ‘The carriage will be waiting, Ms Porter-Brunsnorth. We are so looking forward to meeting you all. Have a safe remainder of your journey. We’ll see you very soon.’ Evie rang off and raced back to the kitchen yelling at the top of her lungs. ‘Dad! You’ve got eight minutes to get the horse and cart over to the car park. They’ll be arriving in ten and I’ll be damned if we’re going to give that cow something to complain about the moment she arrives.’

  She had never seen her dad, or the rest of the family, move so fast. It was as if the Starrs had been given military orders and were determined to complete their mission without questions or complaints. John shot outside like a bullet from a gun; Molly put a batch of mince pies in the oven, set out fifteen cups, saucers and tea plates, switched the kettle on and put a pan of mulled wine on the hob to simmer, all in a matter of minutes. Raven rushed around, switching on table lamps and the lights on the various indoor trees, plumping cushions, tidying the small piles of magazines on various side tables and the leaflets in the display rack in the hall. Jessie flew to her room and returned a few minutes later in what looked like a brand new and clearly expensive, dress. It was simply cut, purple and gave her a rather regal air.

  Evie checked her ‘final list’ to be certain she hadn’t forgotten anything, followed by her make-up to ensure she hadn’t smudged her mascara or got ‘warm spice’ lipstick on her teeth. She then nipped outside to see if her dad had made it to the car park in time. She couldn’t see him or the cart so that must mean he was either still getting it ready or was in the car park, out of her line of sight.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw three, sleek black limousines pass the cottages directly opposite the isle, followed by a large, gleaming white van with the words, ‘Thorn On Your Side’ painted on it. That was tailed by a blue Porsche which in turn was followed by a charcoal-grey Jaguar. The rows of Christmas lights strung between the lamp posts cast colourful reflections on the pristine bonnets and roofs, as if flowers of welcome were being thrown at the parade of vehicles.

  ‘How the hell are they all going to fit in the tiny car park?’ Evie asked, as Raven came and stood, shivering, beside her.

  The sun had set some time ago and there was a definite chill in the air. The darkening, cloudless sky slowly filled with stars as if the universe was randomly switching on its own display of twinkling Christmas lights, but a clear sky meant a cold night at this time of year.

  ‘Wow!’ Raven said. ‘That’s pretty impressive. The old man’ll be in one of the limos but which one will Zachary be in, d�
��you think? The Porsche or the Jag?’

  ‘My money is on the van.’ Evie grinned at her niece. ‘You need a coat if you’re going to stand out here.’

  ‘I’m not.’ Raven wrapped her red cardigan over her white blouse and the Christmas-themed waistcoat. ‘I’m gonna be helping Granny M in the kitchen.’

  It was good to see Raven in colours other than black but Evie had been astonished when her niece agreed to wear the makeshift uniform.

  Last night, Evie had suggested that everyone working at the inn should dress in similar apparel so that guests could tell immediately who was ‘staff’ and who wasn’t. The Starrs each owned several Christmas waistcoats. It was a family tradition that they wore them every year and Evie, her mum and Gran hand-made new ones in October, once the nights started drawing in. The waistcoats were perfect and there were several to go around, so that worked really well. Everyone owned dark-coloured trousers or skirts, depending on gender, so those, paired with white shirts or blouses and topped by either a red or green cardigan, made the perfect Snowflake Inn livery.

  Evie wore a dark green skirt and matching cardigan, white button-through blouse and a red waistcoat covered in green and silver baubles, all of which were made from different types of material and some of which sparkled or glistened like the real baubles on the Christmas trees. Her camel-coloured winter coat hid most of it, but it was too cold to be outside without it.

  ‘Tell Mum they should be here in about fifteen minutes but they may all want to go and settle into their rooms before coming down to hot drinks and mince pies. I’ll ask them when they get here and let her know.’

  ‘Are you gonna wait out here and greet them? It’s freezing. Why can’t you meet them inside? We don’t want them to think they’re something special, do we? This guy may be rich but he’s not the bloody Queen.’

  ‘That’s a good point.’ Raven was full of surprises lately. ‘I should be at the reception desk waiting to book them in and hand over the keys.’

  ‘Yep. Roland went to help Grandpa with the luggage. He’s taken the extra pull-along cart as there are so many people and Granny M says rich people always have loads of luggage. She made him wear a Santa hat like the one Grandpa is wearing.’

  Evie grinned. ‘I bet he loved that.’

  The Starrs had asked Roland and Robin if they would be prepared to be temporary staff for a few hours a day in exchange for an hourly rate. Robin could only do evenings after closing the Merry’s Christmas Tree Farm each night, but he happily agreed and so did Roland. Teenagers could always do with extra money, and thanks to this booking, the Starrs would have money.

  Plus, if Zachary Thorn agreed to Evie’s original plan of a five-minute scene featuring the inn in his TV show, or a few photos or something for the website and Snowflake Inn’s social media pages, the bank account might stand a chance of staying in the black rather than dropping into the red faster than Father Christmas down a chimney, as it had been doing until now.

  Raven shrugged. ‘He didn’t seem to mind. Robin’s gonna be wearing one too. Granny M seems to think the men should wear them but we don’t have to.’

  Evie pushed back a wayward lock of ginger hair from her face. ‘Thank heavens for that.’ She wrapped her arm around Raven’s shoulder as the stream of vehicles disappeared from view.

  ‘Let’s get out of this cold? I could do with a glass of sherry to calm my nerves but no doubt the harpy with two names would smell alcohol on my breath and assume I’m a wino.’

  Raven grinned. ‘She wouldn’t be too far from the truth. I can’t wait to see if she looks as stuck up as she sounds. I bet she wears designer suits and matching designer glasses and has perfect, blonde hair held back by one of those Alice band things.’

  ‘And she carries her Tablet with her everywhere making constant notes and issuing instructions.’

  ‘Following her boss wherever he goes and telling everyone that he’s one of the richest men in the UK.’

  ‘And that he doesn’t like this or that, or anything much at all.’ Evie shook her head. ‘Seriously though, I hope they enjoy their stay. Think what it could do for us if they do. Whereas I dread to think what it’ll do to us if they hate it here. With all that money, they must be used to the height of luxury. Our rooms are comfortable but they’re hardly comparable to The Grand Hotel in Michaelmas Bay. Zachary and his team must have cancelled their booking at The Grand to come here. It really will be a miracle if one of them doesn’t complain about something. Our only hope is that they complain off camera, not on it and that Ms Felicia Porter-Brunsnorth doesn’t post a scathing review on every travel site she can find.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Evie expected the new arrivals to form an orderly queue with Ms Felicia Porter-Brunsnorth at the front, who would introduce everyone to Evie one at a time, allowing Evie to allocate whichever room seemed most suitable to that person. Evie would hand over the key and ask Roland or her dad to take the luggage to that room. Joshua Thorn would no doubt be first, as he was technically the person footing the bill and he would of course be given the best room. Each person would take their turn, with the harpy with two names being last, and Evie would allocate her the broom cupboard. Well perhaps not. But it was very tempting.

  Things did not quite work out as Evie imagined. Everyone piled into reception in one large huddle and several of them were carrying their own holdalls, slung over their shoulders. The leaflets on the console table were sent flying, picked up by someone and sent flying again, this time being trampled over by four men who had the footfall of stampeding cattle. The Christmas tree wavered in its stand, as if someone had been topping up its pot with brandy instead of water. The front door bashed against the wall at least twice making the newly-oiled hinges creak in protest and Roland, who was almost six foot got lost somewhere in the crowd. Evie could only see the white bobble of his Santa hat and for a second she actually feared for his safety. The cacophony of voices was deafening and as the rabble approached her desk, she wondered whether it would survive the onslaught.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said, her voice raised.

  She said it again, a little louder.

  She was running out of time.

  ‘Oi! Let’s have some quiet.’ A male voice boomed out from somewhere in the throng just as Evie was screaming, ‘Excuse me!’ for a third time, at the top of her lungs. A second or two later, everyone fell silent and formed something resembling the orderly queue Evie had hoped for.

  A tall, slim blonde in jeans and a cashmere coat raised perfectly shaped brows over ice blue eyes and looked directly at Evie. ‘There’s really no need to shout. I’m Felicia Porter-Brunsnorth. Are you the girl I spoke to? I assume our rooms are ready. It was a frightful journey. This place is at the end of the earth. We’d like champagne sent up to our rooms if it’s not already there, and tea. Oolong if you have it.’ Her gaze darted back and forth. ‘But I doubt you do. It’ll have to be Earl Grey, I suppose. Well? Is there a problem?’

  Evie snapped her mouth shut. Champagne in the rooms? Oolong tea? What planet did this woman live on?

  ‘No problem,’ Evie said, giving the harpy with two names, her sweetest smile. ‘I’m Evie Starr. It’s lovely to meet you in person. There may be a short delay with the champagne but I’ll have it with you as soon as possible. In the meantime, please help yourself to a glass of mulled wine. Raven is … oh, there she is … um. Raven has a trayful.’

  Raven had backed out of reception the second the rush began but Evie spotted her just inside the dining room doorway and waved her closer.

  ‘Mulled wine?’ Felicia’s face contorted as if she’d swallowed poison.

  ‘Stop giving Ms Starr a hard time, Felicia.’

  Evie now recognised the male voice, not merely from a moment ago but from a previous occasion and even before the crowd parted like the Red Sea, she knew it was Zachary Thorn making his way towards her. She quickly scanned his body from the lustrous, honey blond hair to the tip of the well-worn walking boo
ts and back again. He wore faded jeans, an open, black leather jacket and to her astonishment, a bright red V-neck Christmas sweater with a cartoony, drunken reindeer on the front and a light blue T-shirt underneath. He had a holdall on one shoulder and held another in his hand. His smile was friendly and incredibly sexy and try as she might, once her gaze had settled on his luscious-looking lips, she couldn’t tear it away.

  ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘I’m Zachary.’

  She mumbled something in reply but she wasn’t quite sure what. To her ears it sounded like: ‘Of course you are.’ At least she didn’t say sex-god, hot bod.

  His smile grew wider and he let his holdalls drop to the floor. ‘We spoke on the phone. May I call you Evie?’

  She almost said, ‘You can call me whatever you want,’ but instead she said, ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘I apologise for this lot.’ He made a fist and pointed his thumb, like a hitch-hiker, at the group behind him. ‘Some of them are getting into the festive spirit a little early.’ He wrapped an arm around Felicia’s shoulders and pulled her briefly to him. ‘Felicia here is doing her best to maintain order. She can give the impression that she’s difficult and demanding, but really she’s a sweetie.’

  Felicia smiled adoringly at Zachary but the look she threw Evie consisted of daggers of ice.

  ‘I’m sure.’ Evie forced a smile. ‘You must all be eager to get to your rooms. Mr Thorn, you’re in room number six. Roland will take your bags. Here’s the key.’

  From the collection of keys she had previously laid out on the raised reception desk, she slid the key to number six towards him. The keys were of the old-fashioned variety and were metal, not plastic cards. Zachary released Felicia and leant forwards, resting strong-looking hands on the desk.

  ‘The name’s Zachary. Or Zach if you prefer. I don’t mind which but I do mind Mr Thorn. And I can carry my own bags, thanks.’ He leant closer. ‘Don’t worry about the champagne, or sending tea to our rooms. Felicia didn’t hear, but your father told us outside that your mother’s been baking and there’ll be hot mince pies and shortbread in the lounge and also in the bar whenever we’re ready. Along with tea, coffee and hot chocolate. That sounds perfect. Can you give us twenty minutes? We’ll just dump our stuff and we’ll be down.’

 

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