by Julie Caplin
‘No, I was …’ he looked around as if hoping inspiration might jump up and slap him in the face.
‘You look as if you were looking for something?’ she asked, tensing as she realised she was desperate for him to be honest about what he was doing.
‘Er yes … some cloths. For the … er … kitchen. Tea-towels.’
Lucy narrowed her gaze at him, before pointedly looking towards to the room behind them and the shelves by the door, neatly stacked with smaller cloths and tea-towels, used by the kitchen.
Alex flushed, following her gaze. ‘Sorry. Not thinking. Completely forgot. You know what it’s like when you’ve worked in lots of different places. You get a bit confused every now and then.’ His gabbled speech was so unlike his usual cool, collected self, that Lucy almost felt sorry for him until he changed the subject quickly.
‘And how are you finding things?’ he asked in that cool, authoritative yet charming way as if he were the one that was in charge. ‘I hear you’ve promoted Elin.’
‘Yes,’ she said stiffly, wondering what business it was of his. ‘She’s now Assistant Housekeeper. Doing a great job.’
‘Good move.’
‘Thank you,’ she said with a touch of withering sarcasm. Had he forgotten who was in charge here?
He shrugged, with an anodyne smile that irritated her even more.
Why was it that he always managed to catch her at a disadvantage?
‘Is there anything else you need in here?’ she asked desperate to reassert her authority.
‘No,’ he looked at his watch, ‘I must be off.’ And with a quick smile, he sauntered away as if he had all the time in the world.
‘You forgot your tea-towels,’ she called with a triumphant crow, but he’d already left the room. She scowled after him, so much for her taking charge.
Chapter 9
The following morning, Lucy heard the unwelcome words, ‘Hi, I’m Clive Tenterden with See The World Productions.’
She bustled out of the office to join Brynja at the front desk.
‘We have a booking for five.’ He winked. ‘Cribs for my crew.’ He hoicked his thumb over his shoulder. ‘Camera man, sound man, production assistant and grip.’
‘Good morning, I’m Lucy Smart, General Manager. Welcome to The Northern Lights Lodge. I understand you’re filming in the area and will be staying with us.’
‘Hey Lucy. Nice to meet you. This is the crew, I’ll introduce you all later. You’re going to get to know us real well over the next few weeks.’
Behind, a group of men and one woman had gathered around a mountain of black boxes and were talking quietly to one another. Alex was helping one of the men with a few cases, doubling up as he was prone to do and helping out taking luggage to rooms.
Lucy nodded smiling even though her cheeks were hurting with the effort. Few weeks? Where was the memo on that one? Was their stay complimentary? At least there was plenty of room. Bookings were still down despite the hideously expensive ads she’d signed off this week in a couple of international travel magazines.
‘I hope you’re going to have an enjoyable stay here. I’ve allocated you some lovely rooms and The Northern Lights Lodge is a great base for exploring the local area. If you’d all like to check in and get settled. Dinner, this evening, is between seven and nine in the dining room. Would you like me to book you a table?’
‘That would be great. Perhaps you could join us for dinner and we can talk about what sort of thing we need from you and the sort of access we’re going to want.’
Lucy stared at the man’s smiley isn’t-this-going-to-be-so-much fun face and tried to adjust hers into professional indifference, although inside she was starting to have the mild signs of a panic attack. Access. What did that mean?
‘You look a bit uncertain, Lucy. Don’t you worry about a thing, once you get used to the cameras, you really won’t know we’re here. You never know it might make you a star.’
Lucy froze. That was the absolute last thing on the planet she ever wanted to be.
‘Cameras?’
‘Well, just the one really but it’ll be right there, in your face.’
‘I’m sorry. I don’t understand.’
Clive looked at her, a slightly worried frown on his face. ‘You do know we’re filming a fly on the wall travel documentary. Warts and all in an Iceland lodge chasing the magical aurora borealis. In between visiting the top tourist must-see sights, we’ll be filming how a local lodge is run.’
No, she did not know that. The hotel wasn’t anywhere near ready for that kind of spotlight. There was still so much to do. And … it hit her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It all came rushing back. Everyone looking at her. Sniggering behind her back. The lewd remarks. Suggestive stares. Talking about her. It would all start up again. For a minute she thought her legs might collapse beneath her. Her lungs felt tight in her chest and … and she couldn’t…
‘E-excuse me,’ she stammered, waving her hand at Brynja. ‘I n-need to check the … the … C-can you…’
To her relief Brynja stepped forward and smoothly took over, sliding the registration forms towards the man.
She backed away. She needed to get to the office. Needed to breathe. Look normal. She caught sight of one face. One of the crew. Was she imagining it or was he staring at her with one of those don’t-I-know-you expressions on his face? She ducked her head, backed up another step and mercifully felt the door behind her.
Safe in the office, she closed the door with a firm thunk behind her and put her hand on the door leaning over. The room went black and her chest constricted as she desperately tried to suck in air. It wouldn’t come. She tried again. And again. Her head was about to explode.
‘Lucy?’ A voice sounded as if it were coming from a very long way away. ‘Lucy. Are you OK?’
She forced herself to focus on Alex’s voice. Forcing herself inch by inch up the black tunnel. Tight bands held her chest. She gasped, trying to take in another breath that did nothing and another and another.
Hands grabbed hers and led her to a chair, pushing gently, until she sat down.
‘It’s OK, Lucy. You’re safe. You’re fine. Listen to me. You’re OK.’
She felt his hand come to rest on her stomach.
‘Next time you try to breath push out your stomach against my hand as you inhale and try to breathe in through your nose.’
He repeated the words and she tried to make sense of them. Breathe out. No inhale. Nose. She closed her eyes and listened to his voice.
‘Inhale through your nose. Push against my hand. And again. Inhale, push. That’s it. Inhale, push.’
His voice took on a gentle rhythmic monotony which was both soothing and reassuring.
‘That’s it. You’re doing fine, Lucy. You’re doing fine. You’re going to be OK.’
Gradually she felt the panic subside and although her pulse thudded furiously, she felt herself start to settle. Alex’s hand was still lying on her stomach, just above her diaphragm, and his other hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. She blinked up at him, trying to assimilate everything, grateful for his quiet presence. Through the door she could hear the busy reception, Brynja talking, people laughing and the sound of luggage being wheeled over the polished lava floor tiles.
‘You OK?’
Feeling dazed, she nodded, tears pricking at her eyes as shock and embarrassment set in. Her mouth crumpled as she muttered, ‘I’m sorry,’ with a little hitch to her voice. She couldn’t believe she’d made such a fool of herself. And in front of Alex of all people. The man who saw so much, there were times when she thought he should be running this place. He always seemed so together with that natural easy authority of his.
She sniffed and tried to turn away.
‘Hey,’ his voice resonated with something that made her heart ping in her chest. ‘Don’t cry.’ With gentle hands he pulled her into hug and, although she was not normally one for the damsel in distress routine, for once it was rather nice t
o bury her head against his chest. And when his arms closed around her, she sank into his warm hold and let the rest of the world and all its problems recede away. There was something rather wonderful about being held. No words, just another body, cocooning her and keeping her safe. Beneath her cheek, she could feel Alex’s chest lift and fall in a steady, reassuring rhythm through the thin cotton of his shirt.
He smelled good, male and clean, with a hint of cedar and sandalwood. She closed her eyes realising this was the first time she’d been held for a very long time. After what had happened, she’d shied away from other people, even Daisy. She hadn’t wanted comfort, she was too angry and humiliated for that. Too determined to put a brave face on things and show the world that she was OK, when inside she was dying of shame.
Breathing in Alex’s scent, she was grateful for his quiet steadiness, the way that he didn’t try and say anything. It demonstrated that gentle confidence he had and the unassuming authority he wore so well. Today he felt like an ancient harbour hewn of stone that had offered shelter in stormy seas countless times and would always be there to do it again. And when had she become so fanciful?
She pulled away and looked up at him. Those amber flecked eyes studied her, solemn and unblinking, radiating kindness and concern.
‘Thank you.’ She tried to summon up a tremulous smile but failed miserably. ‘Weren’t you helping with their luggage?’
‘I saw you needed help.’
‘I appreciate it.’
‘Anytime.’ His grave tone and simple response reassured her. No platitudes. No fuss. No false sympathy, just steadfast silent support as if he knew that was exactly what she needed.
‘Sorry about that I …’ she winced. The whole sordid escapade was still too raw and hideous. ‘I-I…’
‘Lucy,’ he laid a finger to her lips. ‘You don’t have to explain anything.’ He gave her arms a quick squeeze. ‘Can I get you anything? A coffee? Something to eat?’
She took in a deep breath and exhaled, shaking her head.
‘Have you eaten this morning?’
‘No, Mum. I grabbed a coffee.’ Thank goodness for the new coffee machine which had proved a big hit.
‘Coffee?’ Alex said and then tsked.
‘I haven’t had time,’ she protested, horribly aware of her untidy desk directly in her eyeline. Every day there seemed to be more to do.
‘Well there you go, you daft woman,’ his Scottish accent deepened. ‘You should’ve had your porridge.’
Now she did smile at him. ‘Porridge, of course. So that’s where I went wrong.’
‘And you probably need a break from this place. Have you had a proper day off since you’ve been here?’
She shrugged.
‘And when’s your next day off.’
‘Supposedly … today,’ she muttered, dropping her gaze.
With two fingers he lifted her chin as he lifted one arched eyebrow. ‘It just so happens it’s my day off too, today, and I’m off to see a waterfall which I’ve been assured by Hekla is one of “the” things to see. Gullfoss.’
Lucy smiled, he sounded rather proud that he could pronounce it ‘Excellent Icelandic accent,’ she teased.
‘To be honest, it is the only place that I can pronounce. Might as well start somewhere.’ His face sobered and then he asked. ‘So, why don’t you come with me?’
A car pulled up in front of her, a tiny white Toyota Aygo and Alex waved from the driver’s seat as the passenger window slid down.
‘Hop in.’
‘Sadly no porridge, but …’ she held up two foil packages, ‘I did blag some bacon butties for the journey,’ she said, climbing in and fastening her seatbelt.
‘Excellent and don’t tell anyone but I don’t miss porridge that much,’ said Alex, with a crooked grin, ‘not when bacon butties are on offer.’
‘I’m not convinced the 3G en route is going to be that great. How’s your navigation?’ he asked with a cheery smile handing her a map.
‘So, so.’ She unfurled the map to peer at it. ‘But it’s not as if there are a lot of roads here. It looks pretty straightforward. I had a quick look on Google.’
‘I should have known. You are a planner. Don’t worry, we stay on the main coast road for most of the way and then we take a right, by which time it should be light. Hekla says it’s well signposted. You can probably stand down as a navigator.’
‘I wonder if it’s going to snow again,’ said Lucy looking up at the sky, which was the clearest it had been for a few days. The previous dump of snow had melted fast leaving the roads completely clear and it was a couple of degrees warmer. ‘The forecast for today is quite good. Allegedly there will be sunshine.’ She wasn’t convinced but Brynja had insisted on checking three different weather pages once she’d heard where Lucy was going.
‘Yeah, it’s supposed to brighten up later. You have dressed for every eventuality, haven’t you? The weather is very changeable.’
He slid the car into gear and swung out of the car park onto the road.
‘So Hekla and Brynja keep telling me.’ Lucy laughed and leaned back in her chair adjusting the seat back. It felt good to be out of the hotel. ‘Hekla’s been fussing around me like a mother hen. Three layers. You need three layers. You can take layers off. Put layers on.’ She attempted to mimic Hekla’s accent. ‘And no jeans, they take too long to dry. Hence these rather attractive khaki numbers she forced Brynja to lend me.’ Despite the fact that Brynja was several inches shorter and a size bigger. However thick long woolly socks filled the missing inches above Lucy’s walking boots and she’d pushed them around her ankles leg warmer style so that she didn’t look completely ridiculous.
‘She said the same to me,’ said Alex, focusing on the road. ‘And my fleece was given her personal seal of approval.’
‘Well done, my waterproof wasn’t. It was snatched out of my hands with a spiel of heavy-duty Icelandic disapproval before she went rifling through the lost property box in the office to find this.’ Lucy held out the zipped edge of the sturdy navy Berghaus coat before wriggling out of it and stowing it at her feet. ‘She gives the same lecture to the guests at least once a day. I think she might be an undercover operator for Mountain Warehouse.’ Lucy looked down at her drab, sensible but practical clothing and remembered the recruitment consultant in her red suit. Home was a very long way away.
‘Neat theory, although it could be she wants to make sure everyone enjoys their time here. I’ve noticed she’s very passionate about her own country. There’s nothing worse than being cold and miserable.’
Outside the car the heavy cloud cover made it difficult to believe the promised sunshine would materialise, it was still quite dark despite the sunrise at quarter to nine. The car’s headlights carved a strong beam tracking along the ribbon of mostly single-track road.
‘Tell me about it. It took me four years to get used to the weather in Manchester.’
‘You’d be fine in Edinburgh then.’
‘I’ve been a couple of times on business. I loved it. The company I wo… I went to a couple of conferences up there. The city is so dramatic, especially with the castle perched up high above the town.’
‘And wet and cold in the winter,’ said Alex. ‘So where do you come from originally?’
‘Portsmouth, although I can’t imagine ever going back there. I like living in the north.’
‘This far north?’
‘Hmm not sure that I could live here forever.’ Her spirits drooped. ‘My plan was to stick it out here for a least a year, before I knew the place is up for sale. Unfortunately,’ she held up a hand before he could comment on her stupidity, ‘I’m on a temporary contract.’ There was a silence when she thought he might have commented, so she carried on, ‘I thought it was a probationary precaution, now I realise it paves the way for any new owners to bring in their own team of people. And yes, feel free to tell me that was a dumb thing to do.’
Alex didn’t say anything, he seemed to be
focusing hard on the road.
In the quiet of the car, with the engine humming, she brooded about the future. Reluctant to disturb Alex’s concentration, she stared out of the window at the endless black tarmac road lit up by the golden beam of the headlights.
She could see the grey ribbon of road stretching ahead for miles, weaving its way through the virtually uninhabited landscape. As they drove along, houses were few and far between, although the sheep were plentiful and quite a few strayed dangerously close to the road. As they followed the signs towards Reykjavik, Lucy reflected that it seemed a long time since she’d first driven this way, her heart sinking at how far the lodge was from any town of any size.
‘I can’t believe I’ve been here nearly two weeks already.’
‘Time flies when you’re enjoying yourself,’ teased Alex.
‘Or working double shifts,’ she retorted. ‘I’m glad that the staff are all more settled and there’s been no more talk about flipping elves. Although I’m still wondering where the dead mice came from and what stopped them.’
‘You mean it wasn’t the magic unicorn?’ he asked with a quick raise of his eyebrows.
‘I never thanked you for that. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the “steals their magic”. It was inspired,’ she laughed.
Alex smirked. ‘Not as inspired as the unicorn idea to start with.’ His face softened and he turned to her. ‘I owe you an apology actually. You handled it well. I’d have told them to stop with the nonsense if they wanted to be paid. I realise now that some people do take this elf stuff seriously.’
‘Mm,’ said Lucy, remembering his stern expression that morning and the disapproval he’d radiated. ‘I think you’ll find it was less inspiration and more desperation. My first day and I panicked. God knows what I’d have done if all the staff had walked out. Funny there hasn’t been a repeat of the anything like the “mices”. You haven’t heard of anything?’
Alex shook his head. ‘No, it’s a bit of a mystery.’
‘Mystery? That’s a kind way of putting it. Pretty mean trick. Someone playing a joke that really wasn’t very funny. Let’s hope with the arrival of the film crew, they’ll keep their tricks to themselves.’