by Holly Martin
‘But if she doesn’t wake up now, she’ll miss out on the pancakes.’
Piper stretched and sat up, feeling slightly guilty that she had pretended to be asleep and overheard their conversation but secretly glad she had.
Gabe looked at her with concern, obviously wondering how much she had heard.
‘I certainly wouldn’t want to miss out on any pancakes,’ Piper said.
‘I made your hair like Elsa’s,’ Wren said. ‘Daddy helped too.’
‘Oh.’ Piper pulled the plait over her shoulder to inspect it and tried to act surprised when she saw all the tiny snowflakes entwined with her plait. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘Go and get dressed, Princess, and we can all go over to the dining room for breakfast together.’
‘OK.’
Wren ran out the room excitedly but a second later she came back. ‘Piper, shall I call you Piper or Pip?’
‘You can call me Pip. All my friends call me that.’
Wren nodded happily at this answer and ran off.
Piper returned her attention to Gabe who was watching her carefully.
‘I’m not sure how much of that you heard…’ he said.
‘A little.’
He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I think Wren would like to see us together, I was just explaining that—’
‘That’s not going to happen,’ she finished for him, swallowing the sudden hurt she felt over that.
‘We can’t go back to how we were, Pip. It’s been twelve years. It would be silly to think we still loved each other after all that time. We’ve both moved on with our lives, had different partners, lived hundreds of miles apart. We’re different people now.’
‘Of course we are. As you said, it was just silly teenage puppy love anyway. It would never have lasted.’
He looked hurt at that and she couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed that they were both pushing each other away. But what did she honestly expect to happen; it had been twelve years, he had a child, there was no way that he would want a relationship with her now. What he’d said the night before about being with lots of different women stuck in her head. She had never been able to move on from him but he had moved on with a whole multitude of women by the sounds of things. He hadn’t hung onto her memory. So maybe he hadn’t loved her at all.
She sighed.
‘I’m sorry that I ended up sleeping on you,’ she said, trying to diffuse the sudden awkwardness between them.
‘It’s OK,’ he shrugged. ‘We’re friends. We used to hug and do stuff like that all the time. You slept in my bed many times and long before we got together.’
‘It’s a bit different now.’
‘Yeah it is,’ he said, sadly.
He stood up and then offered her his hand to help her up too.
‘Why don’t you get dressed too and meet us downstairs when you’re ready.’
Without another word he walked out and left her alone.
* * *
As Piper finished getting dressed, her phone rang. She smiled when she saw it was Wendy, her editor at The Tree of Life magazine. She’d never met her, but over the ten years Piper had worked for the magazine, Wendy had become the closest thing Piper had to a friend. She quickly answered the phone.
‘Hey, beautiful girl. I’ve just read your review for Silver Blossom Hall, that place sounds appalling,’ Wendy said, the busy noise of the office in the background.
After leaving Gabe in the lounge the night before, Piper had been unable to sleep and had spent a while composing a particularly scathing review before sending it into Wendy.
‘It was, I think it was probably one of the worst hotels I’ve been in and that’s saying something. Thank you for getting me in here at such short notice.’
‘Couldn’t have you staying in squalor now, could I? What’s Stardust Lake Hotel like?’
Piper hesitated.
‘It’s beautiful. The attentiveness of the staff, the food, the hotel itself, it’s a wonderful place to spend Christmas…’ she trailed off.
‘Honey, I know you, what’s that tone of voice for?’
‘I know the owner, Gabe Whitaker.’
‘Oh, that’s awkward. Do you know him well?’
‘He’s the only man I’ve ever loved,’ Piper said, quietly.
There was silence from Wendy as she digested this. They never really talked about personal stuff; they chatted about the hotels, the places, the sights, some of the funny things that had happened to Piper. They talked about stuff that was happening in the office, about Wendy’s new boss Marcus and what an ass he was. Piper had told her how disheartened she felt about travelling the world and it had been Wendy who had suggested the six-month sabbatical. She’d also been the one who had convinced Marcus that it was a good idea too. But Wendy didn’t know anything about Piper’s past and sadly Piper knew next to nothing about Wendy’s personal life either.
For the first time ever, Piper realised how sad it was to have no one she could talk about these things with. In a stupid rash moment, twelve years before, she had thrown away the sisterly bond she shared with Neve, the relationship with the man she loved and her relationship with his parents, the only people who had ever shown her any love. She’d cut off any other friends from college and when she had started travelling she closed herself off from ever having any kind of friendship or relationship with anyone. And now she had reached out to Wendy, the closest thing she had to a friend, and Wendy was probably trying to work out how to get off the phone as quickly as she could before Piper had a complete meltdown. Piper had crossed a boundary and their friendship wasn’t strong enough for personal problems.
‘Piper, can I put you on hold for a second?’
‘Um, sure.’
The line clicked and the awful hold music of ‘Greensleeves’ was piped through the speaker. Wendy had probably gone off to deal with something far more important or was desperately trying to come up with a polite way to get rid of her.
The line clicked again and Wendy came back on. ‘Sorry about that, I’ve just put you through to the meeting room so I can talk to you privately. Are you OK?’
Piper was staggered by this. Did Wendy actually really care?
She cleared her throat. ‘Yes, I think so. I haven’t seen him for twelve years, it’s so weird seeing him again.’
Piper tried to stay nonchalant, but Wendy was clearly having none of that.
‘I always got the sense that you were running from something. No one wants to travel for that length of time without wanting to come home at some point unless they have no home to return to. Was he the reason you ran?’
Piper sighed. ‘There was a whole host of reasons, but he was a huge part of it.’
‘Did he cheat on you?’
‘No, I thought he had, but he didn’t, which just makes the whole thing so much harder. I made a terrible mistake running away from him and now he’s here and all these feelings are coming back.’
‘Do you want to pursue something with him, see if you still have anything there?’
‘I don’t know. We’re different people now, we’ve grown and changed so much, but there’s a part of me that wonders if we can fall in love all over again.’
‘Honey, go for it. What do you have to lose? If you try and it doesn’t work out you can come back to London and start your sabbatical just like you planned. We can meet for lunch and you can tell me all about him, the good, the bad, the ugly. We can get drunk over a bottle or two of wine and slag him off for not realising how wonderful you are.’
Piper laughed. ‘I’d really like that.’
‘In all seriousness, you don’t want to live your life with regret. Trust me honey, I’m old enough and wise enough to know that’s no way to live, looking back on what you should have done. You made a mistake but here’s your chance to fix it. You don’t want to be looking back in years to come and wondering why you didn’t take that chance at happiness. Just see how it goes over the next few days. Y
ou might hate him after spending a few days with him, but keep an open mind. Don’t close yourself off to possibilities.’
Piper smiled at how well Wendy did know her after all.
‘Thank you. And I’m going to hold you to that lunch date.’
‘I look forward to it,’ Wendy said, honestly.
They said their goodbyes and Piper hung up.
She quickly finished getting ready, threw her camera and other things into her bag and walked downstairs to wait for Gabe and Wren.
Giggles, thuds and the deep murmurs of Gabe’s voice could be heard from upstairs, though she couldn’t make out what he was saying.
She wasn’t used to waiting around for other people. She had spent over ten years eating when she wanted to eat, seeing the sights she wanted to see and not being accountable to anyone. Though to be honest that was one of the things she was growing weary of. Travelling was wonderful and exciting, but not having anyone to share that joy with, no one to make memories with or to look back and reminisce with, was lonelier than she ever imagined.
She didn’t know whether to get on with some work while she waited. Normally, after the first night in a new hotel, she would be writing notes in her journal about her arrival and her first impressions. She would then use those notes to help write her review at a later stage.
What could she write, though? Could she really write an unbiased, professional review when the man who owned the hotel was her ex-best friend and ex-boyfriend?
For over ten years she had always written honest reviews and she had never let any personal feelings or attachments affect that. Not that she’d had any of those before.
When she had used the money from her dad’s house to travel, she had started a blog of places she’d visited and seen. It had gathered quite a bit of interest, but the posts that interested people the most were her honest reviews of hotels. Some funny, some great, some terrible, but those were the posts that received the most comments.
When Tree of Life asked her if she wanted to do the reviewing as a job, she’d leapt at the chance. They’d pay for all her hotels, food and flights in return for her honest review. The pay wasn’t very much, but, other than clothes and the odd expenses here and there, she didn’t need much when everything else was paid for.
It was only meant to be a few months, maybe a year or two, before she was going to go to college or university to get a photography qualification. But she had never stopped, always taking one more job and the next and the next. Stopping would mean settling down, getting a house or flat, making friends and attachments, and she had worked very hard at not doing that.
She felt bad that she had lied to Gabe about her job, but she could hardly tell him the truth that she was here to review his hotel.
With still no sign of Gabe or Wren, she pulled her journal from her handbag and sat down to make some notes.
* * *
Flight from Edinburgh to Juniper Island was wonderful, treated like a first-class customer.
Stephen was charming, every hotel needs a Stephen.
The drive to the hotel was magical, giving a wonderful first impression of Stardust Lake Hotel.
–
* * *
Piper stared at the empty bullet point and sighed as she thought about everything that had happened after her arrival, the memories and feelings that had suddenly reappeared.
She put her pen next to the bullet point and wrote something else.
I think I’m falling in love with my best friend again.
* * *
She stared at the words in shock just as Gabe and Wren came thundering down the stairs. She quickly snapped the journal shut and shoved it into her bag.
‘Sorry, we were playing a quick game of Dragons while we were waiting for you,’ Gabe explained, holding a giggling Wren under one arm like a log. He deposited her on the floor and Piper smiled at the Frozen-themed all-in-one snowsuit she was wearing, complete with Frozen-themed wellies.
‘How do you play Dragons?’
‘Oh, the princess is trapped in the tower, guarded by the evil dragon and the handsome prince has to come in and fight the dragon and save the princess,’ Gabe explained as if it was perfectly normal for a man of his size and importance to be playing a game with princesses and dragons.
Piper smiled. ‘Sounds like fun.’
‘We can play it when we come back if you want,’ Wren said, excitedly. ‘Pip, you can be the princess and I’ll be the evil dragon.’
‘That sounds great. Who normally plays the evil dragon?’
‘Winston.’
‘Who’s Winston?’
Gabe gave a whistle and a second later Piper could hear the clatter of tiny feet. A few moments later a tiny sausage dog came galloping into the room, wearing a set of green scaly wings.
Piper burst out laughing and looked at Gabe who was smiling too.
‘I kind of pictured you with a manlier-looking dog, not a dachshund.’
‘Winston is Wren’s dog, not mine,’ Gabe said.
‘Why didn’t I meet Winston last night?’
‘Because I left both Wren and Winston with Boris for half an hour while I was going to greet our first guest. But both of them fell asleep and Wren made her escape. She’s good at doing that. Boris brought him back this morning.’
Winston bounced around Piper and she bent down to scratch his head. ‘He doesn’t exactly look like a fearsome dragon, though. I don’t imagine he puts up too much of a fight.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that. Winston, growl.’
Winston let out a tiny bark.
‘Winston, Dragon.’
Winston leapt up onto his back paws, standing vertically with his front paws in the air.
‘Winston, play dead.’
Winston rolled over onto the floor with all four paws in the air and Piper laughed again.
Wren giggled endlessly. ‘Can we take Winston to breakfast too?’
‘No, he’ll get lost in the snow, but we can bring him back a sausage.’ Gabe hoisted Wren onto his back and moved to the front door.
Piper grabbed her bag and followed him, pulling her hat on her head.
‘Daddy, it’s only seven days until Christmas.’
‘I know.’
‘I counted the days on my advent calendar this morning.’
‘What did you get in your advert calendar today?’
‘Chocolate.’
Gabe laughed. ‘I know that, but did you see what chocolate shape it was before you snaffled it? Was it a chocolate reindeer or a snowman?’
Wren laughed. ‘It’s chocolate. It tastes the same no matter what shape it’s in.’
Gabe nodded to concede this.
As the door closed behind him, he plonked a wriggling Wren on the ground and she ran on ahead, dancing and jumping in the snow.
Piper glanced at Gabe as he watched his daughter. It was clear he absolutely loved her. He realised she was looking at him and turned to face her.
She smiled and looked away.
‘Still writing in your journal, then?’ Gabe said, walking by her side.
‘Oh, no, it’s just a few notes I’m making for work.’
‘Shame. I read your journal once.’
Piper stared at him in horror. ‘You didn’t?’
‘Sure I did. I was sixteen and it was open on the bed. The curiosity was too much.’
‘What did you read?’
Gabe smiled. ‘About how much you loved me.’
Piper blushed, feeling her cheeks go blood red. Things really hadn’t moved on at all.
‘Neve!’ Wren called out and Piper watched as the little girl ran into the arms of a tall thin woman with long black curls cascading down her back.
The little girl inside Piper wanted to do the same. She had missed Neve and she hadn’t realised quite how much till now.
Piper swallowed nervously as Neve turned round to look at her. She hadn’t changed much, same cute freckles, same effortless beauty. Piper had such
fond memories of Neve. Piper had always looked up to her, adored her in that kind of way little girls idolise an older sister, but Neve being two years older than her had meant they never really hung around together a lot. Neve had always been kind, lending her clothes in the way that an older sister would. Piper remembered her own love of Westlife came about because Neve’s walls were plastered with posters of them. They’d sit and listen to the albums sometimes and pore over magazines that included interviews with the band.
But Neve adored Gabe, and Piper worried what she would make of Piper coming back into Gabe’s life after all this time, even if it was just for a few weeks.
Neve waited for them on the path ahead with Wren balanced on her hip.
As they drew closer, her eyes flicked between her and Gabe and for a second she looked anxious before a warm smile spread across her face.
‘Pip, it’s so lovely to see you again, it’s been too long.’
Piper wondered if that was a barbed comment, but the smile on Neve’s face was genuine.
Neve reached out and kissed her on the cheek.
‘You look well,’ Neve said, studying her carefully. ‘God, you grew up to be so beautiful; you were just a scrawny little kid the last time I saw you. And what are you doing with yourself these days, what brings you here?’
Piper hesitated with the lie she had told Gabe the night before but knew it was too late to change her story. ‘I’m a freelance photographer. I take pictures for travel brochures.’
It was a well-rehearsed lie and one she used at any hotel that started asking questions.
‘Oh, which one?’
‘Several different ones.’
‘We have deals with all of the big-name holiday companies. Though they all sent photographers months ago. We had to stage an early Christmas so the photos would be ready for the winter brochures in time. The place wasn’t anywhere near finished, but we were very clever about what we allowed them to photograph. I’m surprised the companies are sending you again now. I’m not sure if snow and Christmas trees are a good look for the spring and summer brochures. Which company sent you?’