by Katie Ginger
She was a bit worried about him at the moment. He hadn’t been right on Saturday night and it wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned a headache. Maybe he was working too hard? Or maybe she was relying on him too much for moral support and it was stressing him out. They’d always been so honest with each other. A friendship that had grown from solid roots. She’d even fancied him a little when they first met. The thought amused her now she came to think of it. But then he’d got a girlfriend fairly quickly after starting uni and it hadn’t been long till she’d begun dating a boy from one of her lectures. It hadn’t lasted more than two weeks but by then, because they hung out together so much, they’d fallen into the friend zone. She just wanted to know that he was all right though. Maybe she could ask Kieran.
Casting a glance at Harry, who was sipping his Earl Grey and reading the paper, she pulled the sleeves down over her fingers and got back to the task at hand. There were a couple more things to work through before Tom arrived. Her mum and dad would be calling soon for their regular catch-up and Nell wanted to be able to tell them everything was fine. She’d have to mention the spider-soup video and, eyeing her tea, decided something stronger might be in order before that conversation took place.
Mrs Meggett, breakfast chef extraordinaire, bustled out into the dining room and began to clear away the last few remaining breakfast things. ‘Why on earth do people eat this horrible muesli stuff?’ She always called it ‘moozli’ and said it like it was rat poison and not the darling of the health conscious. Nell loved the odd way she pronounced certain things. She also said ‘croyzonts’ instead of croissants and it was guaranteed to brighten up any miserable morning. ‘Give me a full cooked breakfast any day of the week. I’ve had one every day since I was old enough to stand at a stove and it’s never done my arteries any harm.’ Packing away the unopened mini boxes of cereal into a large wicker basket, she gripped the handles and carted it back off into the kitchen. Harry glanced at her over the edge of his paper.
Nell hoped against hope they’d get some more bookings soon because if she didn’t, she’d have to cut Mrs Meggett’s hours and the thought of doing that right before Christmas made her sick to her stomach.
The scrape of a chair drew her attention from the computer screen and a second later Harry was sitting at her table. He wore a beige turtle-neck sweater and whereas it made most men look like they had double chins, man boobs and middle-aged spreads, all this one did was gently underline his firm jaw bereft of even a hint of shaving rash. ‘She’s really somethin’, huh?’
‘She really is,’ Nell replied. ‘But I don’t know what I’d do without her. And no one cooks as a good a breakfast in the whole of the county.’
‘That I can believe. So, Nell, the best hostess in the whole of Great Britain, I’m definitely going to be here for Thanksgiving, so where’s the best place to find all my home food comforts? I’m talking, a giant stuffed turkey, good ol’ American gravy, not this strange brown stuff you guys seem to like. I mean it’s delicious but American gravy is kind of different. Then I gotta have sweet potato pie—’
Nell could listen to him speak all day, and as he listed the dishes he had to eat with a childlike glee, Nell’s imagination whisked her off to a house complete with white picket fence on an American prairie. Together they were cooking a Thanksgiving feast. She was even wearing a chequered apron which in normal life she’d burn before wearing and was pulling dishes from the oven. It was one of the scenes she loved most in any Hallmark movie.
‘Nell?’
‘Yes?’ she replied, suddenly brought back to reality.
‘Do you know anywhere I can get food like that?’
‘Umm, not really. Sorry. There aren’t many restaurants in Swallowtail Bay that do all-American stuff.’ Then she had an amazing idea. ‘If you’re not seeing your family that night why don’t I cook for you here? I mean, if you fancy it?’ She felt her cheeks colour under his intent yet quizzical gaze.
‘You’d do that for me?’
‘Yeah.’ Nell tried to pretend it was the type of offer she made all her guests. ‘If you wanted to.’
‘That’d be amazing.’ He sat back and began wagging his finger at her knowingly. ‘See, I knew you’d be the best hostess in the whole of Great Britain as soon as I walked in that door.’ He took a big sip of his tea. ‘I gotta go. I’m being taken to somewhere called Halebury Castle today. Am I gonna love it or hate it?’
‘Definitely love it. It’s beautiful.’
‘Great.’ He grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and slung it across his broad shoulders. ‘Have a wonderful day.’
‘You too.’
Just then, Tom’s cheerful voice echoed through the hall as he pushed open the front door and trilled a greeting. She heard the kerfuffle as they passed each other, giving greetings and goodbyes in equal measure.
‘Morning Tom,’ Nell called. ‘I’m in the dining room.’
From the sound of his voice today, he was back to his normal cheerful self and that was reassuring. Tom walked through the open doorway and as he did, Nell giggled. An enormous wreath framed his face and he was pulling silly model faces.
‘Blimey, who’s that for?’
‘You, of course.’ Tom continued turning his head left and right and pouting making Nell laugh even more.
‘Me?’
‘Yeah.’
‘But you don’t normally deliver my wreath until the first weekend of December.’
Tom struck a final pose and laid the wreath on an empty table. ‘I know but you don’t normally put your decorations up this early, so I thought I’d get your wreath done and on the door to cheer you up.’
Nell picked it up, admiring its beauty and the skill it took to make one. It was wonderful. A perfect circle made with fir, pinecones, cinnamon sticks and dried orange slices. At the top there was a red velvet ribbon tied into a bow and at the bottom there hung two small pieces of driftwood that he’d painted silver and in black fancy lettering written ‘Holly Lodge’. ‘Tom, it’s amazing. This is definitely your best one yet.’ Nell felt her heart glow on seeing his reaction to her compliment.
‘There’s one last thing we need though.’ He helped her lay the wreath on the table. ‘Wait here.’
Nell wrapped her hands over her chest, ready for his final touch. He did the same thing every year and it had become their own little tradition. Tom left, pulling his secateurs from his pocket as he went. When he came back Nell bit her lip from the pure joy running through her system and stepped back as he studied the sprigs of holly he’d snipped from the hedges outside. She watched his face as he found the spots he’d kept just for those pieces. That he’d thought of her so intently when making it, warmed her up from inside and her hands dropped from across her chest. Recently, having Tom around was giving her a strange feeling at times, like when they were together her soul was stronger and she was more ready to take on the world. Theirs was truly a timeless friendship. The fine lines at the corners of his eyes scrunched together and he pursed his mouth a little as he concentrated. After a second, he stepped back. ‘Ta da!’
‘It’s amazing. Thank you.’ For some reason she felt more than just a hug was needed and holding on to his shoulder, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. Tom’s eyes shot to hers and the importance of the moment they were sharing reflected in them. Feeling embarrassed because she didn’t normally say thank you like that, she turned her eyes to the wreath and ran her fingertips over the ribbon. ‘This’ll be just the thing to welcome my special Christmas guests.’
‘Your what?’
‘I had this amazing idea. I’m going to offer a deluxe Christmas romance package complete with flowers, chocolates and wine. There’ll be a lower rate for in the week and I’ll charge a bit more for weekends. And as an added extra I’m going to supply a small gift for each guest. I’m going to make each room super Christmassy too. I can’t afford a tree for each one, but I was hoping I could have some garlands like you made for the firep
lace. On the tea trays, I’ll leave hot chocolate sachets and a little jar of marshmallows so people can make hot chocolates in their rooms.’
‘That’s a great idea.’ As the awkwardness of the moment was forgotten he carried on. ‘How did you think of that?’
‘Let’s get a drink first, then I’ll tell you. I let my tea go cold.’ She didn’t mention it had gone cold while she’d been busy gazing at Harry. As a rule, she didn’t really talk to Tom about her boyfriends. He was a typical loyal and true friend – a bit like a big brother – and the men she mentioned were never quite good enough for her. But to be fair, she’d always been the same when it had come to his girlfriends.
‘Again?’
‘Yeah, you know what I’m like. Why don’t you make yourself useful and put that on the door while I make the drinks?’
Tom followed her down into the basement and went to the maintenance cupboard while she headed into the kitchen. Before long, he’d finished and shaken off his coat, and Nell had returned with the tea. They were back in the dining room as a weak and watery sun shone between the bare branches of the trees. For a second, Nell admired the twisting beauty of the boughs, tapering from thick stems to small reaching fingers, naked and bereft of leaves. Strong winds had left them stark and empty. Empty. The word rang around her head like an alarm going off and for a second, she reflected on how that was how she felt at times lately. Empty. Maybe that was why she was disappearing into her own world more and more. She’d been prone to it since sitting her exams at uni. It was a coping mechanism and one she’d at first thought she’d grow out of, but she hadn’t. Sometimes she wished she could and at other times it helped more than anything else.
‘So, what’s the deal?’ Tom sipped his tea and grimaced. Nell liked hers super strong, like builder’s tea. She let it brew until weird bits started floating on the top. Tom liked his the colour of wheat. The trouble was Nell tended to get side-tracked doing or thinking about other things and both cups ended up exactly how she liked them. She pulled her chair in a little closer to the table.
‘I’ve lost another booking, and another bad review has come up on HotelRater—’
‘Really? Who? Was it that couple who wanted an ergonomic mattress because he put his back out shagging?’
Nell rested her chin in her hands. ‘I don’t know who it was and honestly, I have no recollection of the things they’re moaning about.’
‘Like what?’
‘They say there was a lack of free toiletries in the room when they arrived, but no one’s ever mentioned that to me, and I always check the rooms before people check in making sure everything’s perfect. I don’t think I’d have forgotten that.’
Tom gazed over the top of his cup. ‘That’s not really a reason to complain either. You just come down and ask for them, don’t you?’
‘Yeah and no one’s ever done that. I always check they’re there. And that’s just the start. They talk about rudeness from staff, ignoring requests for extra pillows and the place being dirty and dusty.’
‘This place is spotless. Mrs Palmer would be mortified if she heard that.’
‘I know.’
Mrs Palmer was Nell’s cleaner and a more disciplined, thorough woman had never been seen. She had a system and it was thanks to that system nothing was ever missed. She regularly cleared the cobwebs, cleaned the skirting boards, wiped the paintwork and door handles, and did all those jobs Nell wouldn’t even think of.
‘I’m going to email HotelRater to see if it’s possible these people tagged the wrong hotel, but I don’t think it’ll do anything. Anyway, I need to come up with some more ideas. The dining room thing is going to take a while to sort out and though I hope Cat’s wedding will help get some bookings, not many people get married this time of year so even with the wedding fair, I’m really looking at next year – summer, more likely, or even the year after – before I get any returns on that. I thought I could use some Valentine’s decorations in the rooms for that romance touch and with some Christmassy bits it should work well. Actually, could you do some small wreaths for the room doors? I’ll pay for them of course. I’m costing out everything else and I think it’ll work. I thought about what you said and I’m not going to go overboard on the gifts. I’m going to have a budget that I stick to, but I can still make things personal and special.’
‘Sounds good to me.’ Tom took another mouthful of tea and pulled a face.
‘You don’t have to drink it if it’s that bad.’
‘It’s fine.’
‘No, it’s not,’ she laughed. ‘You look like I’m pouring vinegar down your throat. I’ll make you another one in a minute and I promise I won’t get side-tracked.’
Tom laughed. ‘I really don’t know how you manage to forget you’re making tea. It’s the most important drink in this country. What were you thinking about this time?’
‘Nothing.’ Nell could feel herself blushing. She didn’t want to admit that once she’d poured the hot water onto the teabag, she’d thought about kissing Tom on the cheek and his delivery of the wreath. Her romantic brain had turned it into a wonderful scenario for her and a vague version of Harry, but it had been strange. While the face was a weird mix of Harry and Tom, the personality she felt was most definitely Tom’s. It had made her feel a bit … odd. ‘I went looking for biscuits and got distracted.’
‘Okay. Oh, listen. I wanted to ask you something about Cat.’ Tom’s voice now carried a serious tone. ‘I had a call from Kieran the other day and he said she seemed different. You know, really, really stressed. He wondered if she’d said anything to you. I know you told me about the dress, but do you think things have got worse? They seemed happy enough the other night but … I don’t know.’
Nell shifted uncomfortably. She opened her mouth to tell him about Cat flirting with Niall, but Cat had sworn she didn’t realise she was flirting and Tom was right, the other night Cat had been a bit quiet but she was still cuddled up with Kieran and they seemed happy. Was it worth burdening Tom with something he couldn’t talk about? Weighing it up, it wasn’t worth stressing him out and he was already nervous about his best man’s speech. ‘Said anything about what exactly?’
‘I don’t know. The wedding? Her mum? Kieran said she wasn’t herself.’
With an effort, Nell assembled her thoughts into a tactful but non-worrying answer. ‘I think she’s just a bit stressed with Brenda. She’s normally a force to be reckoned with but lately she’s gone into overdrive. I’m sure Cat will be fine. Though she did text me yesterday and even though she hated them before, she’s changed the party favours from traditional sugared almonds to little Christmas present-shaped chocolates. I’ve now got to source them online and try and get them at a reasonable price. I could do without it with only a month to go, and I don’t know why she’s changed her mind, but I guess it’s a bride’s prerogative.’
‘Sounds fun. Okay, if you’re sure everything’s all right.’
Just then, Harry strolled back into the dining room and Nell’s heart fluttered at this unexpected treat. ‘Can you believe I forgot my wallet?’ he said, laughing, in his wonderful American accent. ‘What a dope. Hey, Nell, while I’m here, where’s a good place to take my family for lunch? I want some proper British food but something classy. Where would you recommend?’
‘The Fisherman’s Wharf is nice. It’s down on the seafront. I’d definitely recommend there if you like fish.’
‘Good job I do then, thanks.’ He stepped away but paused before he left. ‘Oh, and you’re looking really pretty today. I meant to tell you earlier. I like that sweater. It makes your eyes sparkle.’
And on that bombshell, he left. Nell didn’t hear compliments like that often and her chest tightened. Tom stared at her like they’d just had a fleeting visit from aliens.
‘So who’s the new guest?’
‘That’s my American who’s staying for three weeks. I did tell you about him.’ She hadn’t told him how handsome and charming he was thoug
h.
‘Oh right.’
‘What?’
Tom’s face clouded over. ‘Nothing. He’s just a bit in your face, isn’t he?’
‘He asked for a restaurant recommendation. All my guests ask for that. It’s not exactly in your face.’
Tom harrumphed as a gust of wind whipped around the house, rattling the windowpanes and shaking the bushes in the garden. Nell and Tom watched the world outside, glad to be indoors in the warmth of the dining room. A light drizzle tapped against the window and onto the stone path that led down to the holly bench. While there were a few benches dotted here and there, the holly bench was at the bottom of the garden and her favourite place to sit in the summer. When Tom continued, he quickly changed the subject. ‘Grandad Nigel wanted me to check you’re still coming to help decorate the care home. He said he was looking forward to seeing you.’
‘Yes, of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ She loved seeing Grandad Nigel. He was cheeky and a bit of a rebel in the care home. ‘I’ve got a little present for the old boy too.’
‘Don’t tell him that, he won’t let you leave. That reminds me though. Have you got any spare Christmas decorations?’
Nell cocked her head to one side. Tom was so mad about Christmas he normally had enough decorations for every room in his house and then some. Many a time he’d ended up giving the overspill to friends or turning the flower shop into some kind of floral Christmas grotto. All it needed was a jolly fat Santa. As for her, she’d put out everything she had and needed more if she was hosting this carol service and offering a romantic Christmas retreat. ‘Not really. Why?’
‘Tracey, the care home manager, texted me to say she’d been in the loft and most of their decorations are so old and tatty she can’t use them. I’ve got a box I can bring along. I didn’t know if you had any spare. She’s in desperate need of donations because they don’t have the budget to buy any.’ Giving up on his tea he pushed his cup away. ‘Between you and me I think she spent all her decorating budget on Halloween when she frightened all the residents half to death with that life-size talking butler. The only person who wasn’t scared was Grandad and that was only because he couldn’t actually see it. He could hear it all though. Said it was the noisiest thing he’d heard since the Blitz.’