Christmas at Snowflake Lodge

by CP Ward

  Jessica gave a wry smile. ‘That’s something else I wanted to ask you about. Do you know where I could find my grandfather?’

  Mildred laughed. ‘Ah, I remember hearing that you were related to Ernest Lemond. It must be wonderful to have a famous family member.’

  ‘It has its ups and downs, for sure,’ Jessica said. ‘Is he around somewhere? I haven’t seen him since we arrived and I’d like to know how he’s doing.’

  ‘Oh, he’s out on a trek,’ Mildred said. ‘He’s gone up to the hot spring with a group of other guests.’

  ‘A hot spring?’

  Mildred grinned. ‘Yes. The only one in Scotland. Isn’t it great?’

  ‘A trek?’

  ‘Oh, it’s only an hour or so up through the forest to the plateau. You should go. The views are fantastic.’ She winked. ‘And you can get phone reception.’

  Jessica glanced at Kirsten, who gave a little shrug. ‘That’s all well and good,’ she said to Mildred, ‘but my grandfather is ninety-two. Ninety-three in February.’

  ‘I know, amazing isn’t it?’ Mildred said. ‘That’s the thing about Snowflake Lodge. A little time here takes years off you. Makes you feel young again. You wouldn’t think he was a day over eighty.’

  Kirsten tugged on Jessica’s sleeve. ‘Won’t that be good? You can put off thirty for a few more years.’

  Jessica grimaced, shrugged Kirsten off like a clingy child and looked back at Mildred. ‘Well, that’s nice, but I think it’s time I went and found him.’

  With Kirsten trailing along behind, they did a quick reconnaissance mission of the hotel, getting familiar with its layout. A large dining room was cozier than something its size ought to have been, with two log fires burning on either side of the doors to the kitchens, while in the centre was a large Christmas tree surrounded by presents, which gave the impression the room was far smaller than it really was.

  Through a door on the other side was a quaint souvenir shop, some function rooms set up for Christmas activities such as cooking and decoration-making, then a rental shop for ski and hiking gear. All the guest rooms were either above them on the first and second floors, or behind them, in disconnected cabins built on steps in the hillside and accessed via covered stairways that led up through the forest.

  Past the rental shop was a door that led outside, into a side courtyard from where numerous small roads and paths led away. One way led directly uphill to the ski slope behind the hotel, while others had signs indicating nature trails and hikes.

  ‘Are you up for a forest walk?’ Jessica said, glancing back, but to her surprise Kirsten was no longer behind her. She wandered back a little way and found the younger girl standing by a rack of books in the souvenir shop.

  ‘Kirsten? I’m going to take a hike up to this hot spring,’ Jessica said. ‘Do you want to come?’

  Kirsten looked up. ‘I think, if it’s all right by you, I’ll let you have a little family time,’ she said. Then, holding up a generic thriller which was too far away for Jessica to even read the title, Kirsten added, ‘I’ve always wanted to read this one.’

  ‘Sure, no problem.’

  Jessica headed for the door. As soon as she stepped outside, she realised she was in no way dressed for a winter mountain hike. She went back inside to the rental shop, where a teenage boy in a Christmas hat lent her an insulated ski jacket, boots, and gloves.

  Suitably attired, Jessica headed outside. A clear blue sky gave plenty of light as she followed the path into the trees. A light dusting of snow covered the ground, but just in case the path got buried, markers topped with red tape were positioned every few steps to indicate the correct way to go.

  Under the trees, the air turned quickly cold, but in the pristine pine forest Jessica felt a peace unlike any she could remember. Within a few minutes she was out of range of the tinkling music playing from speakers on the hotel’s walls, and all she could hear was the creak of branches and the drip of melting snow.

  She had brought her phone, and remembered the pings of delivered messages she had picked up on the approach road to the lodge. She felt a sudden urge to check but suppressed it. Whatever it was could wait. It would only spoil the mood of this place. Stopping and closing her eyes for a moment, Jessica breathed in the scent of the pine forest, letting the stillness engulf her senses.

  Carrying on, the path quickly began to steepen. She reached a fork, with a sign pointing off to the left indicating FISHING LAKE. The one continuing up said:

  HOT SPRING

  VIEWING SPOT

  MOUNTAIN PEAK

  This Way

  (It’s not far, promise!)

  Jessica, whose thighs were beginning to ache, paused to take a breath. As she started off again, from further up the path came the sound of laughter.

  And not just any laughter, but a shrill titter which had once been a stable of Saturday night television.

  ‘And remember,’ came a joyous voice at which Jessica couldn’t stop herself smiling, ‘when life gives you lemons, suck on an orange.’

  She increased her pace, passing one viewing spot with a wonderful panorama of the surrounding hills. The laughter was close by, though, so she urged her aching legs onwards, until the trees began to part above her. She emerged into a clearing, where she immediately became disorientated because of the mist billowing across the path up ahead. Then she realised it wasn’t actually mist but steam, rising from a natural rock pool a little way further ahead. Towels were draped over a couple of wooden benches, alongside piles of clothes. Someone had put a Christmas hat on top of one. Beside it was a flask made out of wood and a packet of paper cups.

  Jessica was still staring at the cups when a voice hailed her out of the steam.

  ‘Oh my dilly dally days, is that my granddaughter? Jessica, dear, is that you?’

  A shape moved amongst the steam, a person, standing up out of the water. Jessica had only a moment to avert her eyes before her grandfather’s skeletal, near-naked form appeared. He held a tiny hand towel over his nether regions, not that it made much difference. Jessica would never be able to look at a plucked turkey the same way again.

  ‘Hi, Grandpa,’ Jessica said, thankful as he lowered himself back into the water. ‘It’s nice to see you again.’ Although I could handle seeing a little less.

  ‘Dear, I heard you’d got yourself a job up here at the lodge. Such a wonderful place, don’t you agree? Why don’t you strip off and jump on in? The breeze will blow the steam off in minutes and you’ll get a look at the view. It’s magnificent. Like being on top of the world.’

  ‘Um, I didn’t bring a swimsuit.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be a silly thing. You don’t need a suit. We’re all starkers in here.’

  Jessica grimaced and averted her eyes as Grandpa stood up again to prove his point, waving his bony arms in the air. Thankfully the steam was thick enough around the water’s edge to cover the parts she least wanted to see, but Jessica made a point of looking away, up at the mountain peak rising a few hundred metres above them as the wind blew the steam aside.

  Then, from behind Grandpa came a couple of giggles. Jessica really didn’t want to see who was in there with him, but the wind disagreed, blowing aside the steam with a sudden hard gust to reveal two middle-aged ladies sitting on the other side of the hot spring.

  ‘Hello,’ Jessica said, giving the two ladies a shy smile.

  ‘Hello, love.’

  ‘Hello, deary.’

  ‘How rude of me,’ Grandpa said, regrettably jumping up again, then covering his mouth with his hands in a dramatic gesture that was right out of his TV heyday. ‘Let me introduce you to my friends. On the left is Demelza from the kitchen, and on the right, from housekeeping services, is Charity.’

  As the two ladies began to laugh along with him, Jessica wondered just how volcanic the area might be to have produced a hot spring, and whether, if she prayed really, really hard, the mountain might just open a quick fissure to swallow her right up.

&
nbsp; 15

  Team Meeting

  While the thought of sitting in a natural bath of hot water while looking at a panoramic view of the Scottish Highlands really quite appealed, Jessica wasn’t in the mood for company, particularly when it came with a heavy dose of innuendo. She bid her grandfather and his companions farewell and headed back down the path to the lodge.

  Kirsten was nowhere to be found in the reception area, so Jessica grabbed a cup of complimentary hot chocolate from a table in the dining room and found a comfortable armchair near one of the open fires. There were a selection of books and magazines in a rack beside the chair, but she couldn’t resist pulling out her phone. Somehow she knew it was going to be bad news, and she was right.

  Get on, Lemons, Doreen’s message began. I hope you’re enjoying the holiday while neglecting your landlord duties. Should have expected it—easy life for you rich kids, isn’t it? Thought I’d better let you know that the light fitting in the kitchen’s gone. Phil got a bit excited when the sports news said the Gunners are selling Pascoe to Millwall, but it was just a tap. The thing just popped off. We’re cooking by torchlight at the moment. Any chance you can get someone round? This place is a death trap. It’ll be unlivable soon.

  Jessica felt a knot of anger building up inside. She started to type a reply, before realising she had no phone connection. She held her phone above her head, waving it back and forth, hoping just to get a couple of bars of signal, enough to tell Doreen that she was the kind of nightmare who made Krampus look like a welcome friend. She had just let out a wail of anger when she caught sight of a figure walking past the window. Wearing a duffel coat with the hood up, he had only briefly turned in her direction, but she had caught the look in his eyes as the lights from the dining room illuminated his face.

  James Wilcox. And the way he had looked at her had been how Father Christmas might have looked at a naughty child.

  No presents for you this year.

  She felt a sudden urge to tell him she wasn’t addicted to her mobile phone like it might seem, but by the time she had reached the side door by the rental shop, there was no sign of him.

  Frustrated, she went to reception where Mildred was reading a magazine about 1950s bicycles.

  ‘Um, hi, I was just wondering if James Wilcox was working here today?’

  Mildred smiled. ‘Oh, wouldn’t we all be so lucky?’

  Jessica felt herself blushing. ‘I just thought I saw him, and you said he does the sleigh rides—’

  ‘They’re not due to start until next week,’ Mildred said, running her finger down a ledger book. ‘No, he’s not supposed to be in today.’

  Jessica grimaced. ‘Perhaps I was mistaken.’ Or perhaps I’m losing my mind.

  She thanked Mildred and headed back to her spot by the fire, but now it had been taken by a group of skiers fresh off the slope, their skis propped up in front of the fire while they sipped from cans of beer. Instead, Jessica headed back to her room for a lie down.

  That evening Barry called a staff meeting. Jessica had spent the afternoon asleep while Kirsten had apparently found a small library for customer use on the second floor, where she had spent the rest of the afternoon. As they followed other workers into a function room to the right of the reception, Jessica looked around for Grandpa, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Barry climbed up onto a chair—rather precariously, considering his ample size—and clapped his hands together.

  ‘All right, you lot, thanks for showing up at short notice,’ he said, clearing his throat with a quick, customary harrumph. ‘We have two new members of staff joining us today on the general maintenance team. Jessica and Kirsten. Welcome, ladies. It’s a pleasure to have you here.’

  He waved a hand in their direction, and the entire group turned and began to applaud. Jessica’s cheeks burned, while Kirsten ducked behind her shoulder like a frightened rabbit.

  ‘Thanks for joining us,’ Barry said again. ‘If you have any questions, please ask one of us. We run a tight but pretty relaxed ship here at Snowflake Lodge. As long as the job gets done, it’s okay to have fun. Happy staff make for happy customers, and as long as the customers are happy, the conglomerate will be happy too.’

  The conglomerate. It was the second time he had mentioned it. Jessica had seen no corporate logos anywhere, so she presumed whichever massive multinational company was running Snowflake Lodge, it was staying in the background.

  ‘A few words please,’ Barry said, waving at Jessica.

  Kirsten, her hands squeezing Jessica’s arm, was visibly shaking. Jessica didn’t feel much better, but she forced a smile and looked around at all the beaming faces. In fact, everyone except Barry wore a huge grin. Both her grandfather’s companions—Demelza from the kitchen and Charity from housekeeping—were there, although fully clothed this time, and she recognised the young man from the rental shop.

  ‘Thanks,’ she croaked. ‘We’re happy to be here. If you have a blocked toilet or sink, give us a shout.’

  The crowd clapped as though she’d just made a speech worthy of the history books. As people patted her arms and reached out to shake both hers and Kirsten’s hands, Barry clapped his hands for order again.

  ‘I’d like to remind everyone of the rules,’ he said, still standing on the chair. ‘And I’d also like to remind everyone that they are not my rules, but the conglomerate’s rules, so there’s no use complaining to me if you don’t like them. Christmas hats should be worn at all times.’ He gave Mildred a pointed glare. The receptionist scowled back at him, lifted her hat and hooked it over one ear. ‘A cup of hot chocolate—or, if off-duty but in the communal areas, a glass of sherry, although fruit punch is acceptable for the non-drinkers—should be within arms’ reach at all times. There are three hot chocolate stations within the communal areas that are filled up hourly, so you have no excuse. Christmas songs should be hummed or sung—whistling is also allowed—whenever you are within earshot of a customer. All off-duty staff members are required to wear a Christmas sweater: as cheesy as possible. If you haven’t yet purchased one, there are many available in the souvenir shop at a huge staff discount, so you have no excuse. And finally, on karaoke nights, no staff member is allowed to refuse a customer request. Is that clear?’

  A cheer rose up from the crowd, as though they were very clear on the rules. In fact, only Barry looked unhappy about them.

  ‘See you in the bar, Trumpers!’ someone shouted. ‘Looking forward to this year’s rendition of the Chicken Song!’

  The scowl on Barry’s face as he looked around for the heckler was telling, but whoever it was, they were now keeping their head down.

  ‘I ask you that you respect the conglomerate’s rules,’ he said, then clapped his hands together. ‘Meeting over.’

  The staff filed out. A few people stayed behind to congratulate Jessica and Kirsten on joining the team, but within a minute they were left standing alone with Barry, who had removed his Christmas hat and the bowler underneath and was in the process of rearranging what was left of his hair.

  ‘Ghastly things,’ he said, holding the Christmas hat out in front of him like he might a dead mouse. ‘I’ll be pleased when the season’s over.’

  ‘You’re not a fan of Christmas?’ Jessica asked.

  Barry rolled his eyes. ‘All these lights and shiny things, and people being silly all the time … gets in the way of your day, don’t you think?’

  Jessica just shrugged. ‘I suppose it might.’

  ‘I love Christmas,’ Kirsten said, the Christmas hat pulled so far down over her hair that Jessica could only just see her eyes.

  ‘Whatever tickles your fancy,’ Barry said, turning to glare at a Christmas hat someone had left hanging on the back of a chair. ‘Mildred,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘She’ll be the death of me if the conglomerate finds out.’

  ‘What exactly is the conglomerate?’ Jessica asked.

  Barry shook his head. ‘You don’t want to know.’

  H
e grabbed Mildred’s discarded hat and headed for the door, but Jessica stopped him with a sharp, ‘Wait!’

  ‘What is it? If there’s anything else, you can ask that fair-weather on the reception desk.’

  ‘Um, do you know where I can find my grandfather?’

  Barry rolled his eyes. ‘Our resident celebrity? That would be in the executive suite.’

  ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘The tower room. On the third floor. I imagine he’s in there right now, hassling the staff for caviar and truffles. Poor old Charity, she’s smitten with that old dinosaur. Do you think if I asked Father Christmas for a meteor aimed right at us this Christmas, he might oblige for once?’

  Jessica was left speechless as Barry swung Mildred’s hat over his shoulder like a skinned mink and marched out, switching the lights off on the way, only remembering to leave the door open as an afterthought with a sharp harrumph.

  ‘Well, I guess he told us,’ Jessica said, glancing at Kirsten’s silhouette.

  ‘It was interesting, don’t you think?’ Kirsten said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘A fair-weather. I’ve never heard that before. Is that Dickensian?’

  For the second time in the space of a couple of minutes, Jessica was left speechless.

  16

  Life Advice