The Northern Lights Lodge

by Julie Caplin

  ‘Five thousand hits on YouTube,’ she muttered bitterly, the churning in her stomach horribly familiar.

  ‘I’m so sorry. That’s shit, but it’s not your fault.’ He traced her cheekbone with a finger, anger flashing in his eyes, warming a tiny part of Lucy’s heart that she thought had been irrevocably shattered. ‘I can’t believe anyone would do that.’

  She blinked back tears. ‘That was j-just the s-start of it.’

  He held her tight as they slid down her face. ‘People … they…’ she shuddered. ‘Complete strangers said horrible things. Men, I barely knew suggesting … some touching me as if they had every right. My boobs. My bum. And then getting arsey when I told them to get lost as if I had no right to say no to them.’ She hauled a breath into her lungs, the tightness in her chest painful with the memories. ‘Even women. Calling me slut, slapper, tart. Sometimes under their breath as I walked by. People I worked with. Someone was always quick to tell me what so and so was saying. Even supposedly good friends of mine were suddenly much cooler with me, as if they didn’t want to get tarred by the same brush. And then…’ she paused, still able to see the dispassionate expression of the woman from HR, ‘the icing on the cake.’ She pulled a bitter face. ‘I was sacked.’

  Alex stiffened, his hand on her shoulder tightening. ‘On what grounds? They can’t fire you for something that happens out of work. And if it was put on the company intranet, they had a duty of care to you. They should have removed it immediately.’

  ‘You would think. Even the directors shared the damn thing. No, I got sacked because it was clearly filmed in one of our hotel rooms. It’s an instant disciplinary if an employee uses a guest room without paying for it. Goes back to one of the concierge staff many years ago, running an escort service in the empty rooms. That night, it was our four-year anniversary,’ she swallowed remembering the conversation vividly. ‘I told Chris that I had something special for him. Emailed him a picture of a Santa hat and told him Santa Baby was coming to call.’ She cringed. ‘What an idiot. I’d caved in to his constant nagging and decided I’d … well you know the rest. Chris said in honour of the night and my promise, he’d booked a suite through the company’s friends and family site, so it was all above board.’ She rubbed at her forehead. ‘Turned out he’d borrowed,’ she put the words in exaggerated speech marks with her fingers, ‘a keycard. There was no official audit trail of payment. The video clearly showed me in one of our rooms … not just a room but the flipping Presidential Suite. I was fired for gross misconduct.’

  ‘And him?’ asked Alex.

  ‘Huh! You’re joking aren’t you. My word against his. While they took a dim view of the video and me being in a position of responsibility, bringing the company into disrepute, it wasn’t a sackable offence. What was a disciplinary offence was that a hotel room was used. I was in the video, he wasn’t. The weasel rat bastard claimed it was nothing to do with him and that he hadn’t been there.’

  ‘You’re kidding?’

  ‘I wish I was. His argument was that it wasn’t worth us both losing our jobs as we still needed to pay the mortgage.’

  Alex sucked in a breath, his eyes wide with disgust. ‘What an absolute tosser. I hope you punched his lights out.’

  ‘No,’ she wrinkled her mouth, slightly ashamed now of her lack of backbone at the time. ‘I slunk away tail between my legs. Tried to get another job. Without references. And word spread. Quickly. I couldn’t get another job anywhere.’

  ‘Except in Iceland.’

  ‘Except in Iceland.’

  Alex sighed in sudden comprehension. ‘Now I understand why you’re so wary of the TV crew.’

  ‘Oh God, can you imagine. I’m desperate to keep a low profile, because I know what the word viral really means. We’re talking deadly contagion. Stuff on the internet spreads so quickly. And then a bloody film crew rocks up, hell bent on putting my face on TV.’

  Alex’s eyes suddenly sharpened. ‘Bob knows.’

  She nodded and slumped tiredly against him. ‘Yeah, Bob knows.’

  ‘Has he been threatening you?’

  How did Alex get to the point so quickly, every time? ‘Just making lewd suggestions about going into business together.’

  She felt his tendons snap into attention, his muscles flexing as his whole body went on angry alert. ‘I’m going to kill that piece of shit.’

  ‘Alex!’ she sat up in surprise at the unexpected violence vibrating from him.

  ‘I knew he was a dick, but this…’

  ‘Please don’t say anything to him. He’ll say something to Clive. They’ll tell the hotel owners. The new owners might find out. I really need this job.’ She turned pleading eyes up to him.

  ‘But Lucy, you can’t let him get away with this.’

  ‘He’s not getting away with anything. I avoid him. Make sure I’m never on my own. Please don’t say anything to him.’

  Alex settled back, a furious cast to his face.

  ‘As soon as I know what’s happening about my job, I’ll tackle it.’

  ‘We’ll…’ A strange expression crossed Alex’s face. ‘We’ll tackle it.’

  Chapter 23

  ‘Morning.’ Hekla pushed into the room bringing with her the delicious smell of bacon. ‘I’ve brought breakfast.’

  Lucy pushed her aching body up, her shoulder protesting as she twisted to pull up her pillows.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Squished. Like a truck ran over me and then reversed again to finish the job properly,’ she groaned.

  ‘Ouch.’ Hekla put the tray down and perched on the bed, in the same place as Alex had last night. Lucy hadn’t heard him leave this morning.

  ‘Alex says you are to stay in bed today.’ Hekla’s eyes gleamed speculatively and slid to the Alex shaped dents in the pillows and duvet next to Lucy.

  ‘He did, did he?’

  ‘He’s very worried.’ Hekla teased with a knowing look.

  Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘He’s very bossy too.’

  ‘So am I and you should stay in bed today.’

  ‘To be honest I’m feeling much better. My head doesn’t hurt at all. My mum always said I had a thick skull. I think she might be right.’

  ‘It’s still good to rest.’

  Lucy winced. ‘But there’s so much to do. We’ve got the banquet to arrange. Honestly I wish I’d never said anything. Clive’s got the bit between his teeth and is expecting a scene out of Vikings. Thank God, he’s got his precious northern lights footage, I thought that might calm him down, but no, he’s like an excitable toddler about this. I was just planning an Icelandic themed menu.’ She gave Hekla a speculative look of her own. ‘I don’t suppose you’d bring me my notebook and a pen from the office.’

  ‘Lucy.’

  ‘No stress the doctor said. I’ll get stressed if I don’t start planning.’

  Hekla narrowed her eyes and made a noise like a small pony but quarter of an hour later she returned with Brynja who immediately offered to dress the dining room.

  ‘I can use the theme of nature for the tables. Bring the beach inside,’ she suggested. ‘I promise you will love it.’

  ‘That sounds great,’ said Lucy, who wasn’t very good at that sort of thing at all. ‘Storytelling,’ suggested Hekla, as they brainstormed ideas to jazz up the evening, without the blood and gore of a certain TV series. ‘Icelandic folk tales. Freya would do it. She’s the actress. She could tell stories about the huldufólk.’ She gave Lucy a sly wink.

  ‘I think we’ve enough stories of our own,’ said Lucy. Things had been quiet of late. No more disasters. She was hoping that whoever was behind the mischief had given up. She exchanged a look with Brynja who looked more like a wise old owl, with her mouth scrunched in a line of disquiet.

  ‘Do you have any ideas who it could be?’ the other woman asked quietly.

  Lucy winced loathe to voice her suspicions.

  ‘It’s got to be someone here, hasn’t it?’ Brynja an
swered her own question with bitterness.

  With a sad nod, Lucy said ‘ˈFraid so.’

  ‘It makes me so mad.’ Brynja spat. ‘Why would anyone do this thing?’

  ‘If I knew that, we could stop them,’ said Lucy.

  ‘It’s so unfair,’ she burst out. ‘We’ve worked really hard. The hotel has never looked so good, run so well and always … in my head I’m waiting for the next bad thing. And the horrible Bob. He is waiting too. I see him watching you.’

  Touched by her outburst, Lucy leaned over and squeezed her hand. ‘And we’ll keep on working hard, as a team. I couldn’t do without you guys. We’re going to make this banquet our crowning glory.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Hekla fiercely, Viking battle light in her eyes. ‘Let’s make Clive pee his pants.’

  Lucy and Brynja burst out laughing. ‘Oh Hekla, I do love you. Your English is brilliant. But I get what you mean.’

  By the time the two of them left, Lucy’s notebook was full of ideas. Clive and his crew’s last night was going to be spectacular, if it was the last thing she ever did, which she reflected it might well be. Time was running out on her contract, three more weeks, and there was still no word about whether the sale had gone through and whether there’d be new owners.

  She dozed until lunchtime when Alex appeared with a bowl of soup, his dark eyes glimmering with approval when he advanced across the room.

  ‘Well someone looks a lot better.’

  Feeling lighter than she had done in a very long time, she turned and looked around the room. ‘Who?’

  Alex laughed. ‘I brought soup for the invalid.’

  ‘Apart from the bruises, I feel fine. A bit of a fraud, sleeping away while everyone else is working.’ She gave the dark shadows under his eyes an anxious look. He hadn’t had much sleep last night.

  ‘Make the most of it, we’ve had a flood of bookings for next week and umpteen enquiries. There have been a slew of TripAdvisor reviews about what a great place it is to come for coffee. And a rave review on some travel blog. They loved the food, the friendly welcoming staff and the huggulegt … whatever that may be.’

  ‘It’s the Icelandic version of hygge,’ said Lucy, squirming her toasty toes in the lovely socks Hekla had given her.

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘Hygge,’ repeated Lucy, pronouncing it hooga.

  ‘Never heard of it,’ said Alex. ‘Am I missing something?’

  ‘If you’re planning to stay in Northern climes, I’d say yes. There are different versions of the word all over Scandinavia, it means to be cosy but there’s more to it than that. To be huggulegt is to savour being cosy, taking time to enjoy the simple things in life to engender feelings of warmth and well-being.’

  Alex wrinkled his nose. ‘Sounds a bit … new agey, bollocks to me.’

  With a sputtered laugh, she rolled her eyes. ‘I have to admit, I was in that camp at first, but do you know what, having been here a while and spent time with Hekla and the others, I understand it now. The weather can be a bit grim.’

  ‘That’s an understatement,’ said Alex looking outside at the grey clouds and sleety rain sliding down the windows.

  ‘Yes, but that’s the thing, look how cosy it is in here.’ She waved her hand at the log burner merrily blazing away, the soft light of the lamps and the blanket across her knees. She pointed to the steaming bowl of soup on the tray on her lap.

  ‘People need to find a way through the long winter, so making things cosy and indulging in small celebratory rituals is one way of doing it. And we are talking small, but it’s about making the time to do them. For example, making a conscious effort to sit, enjoy a log fire, setting the room with the soothing light of nice candles, lamps and reading a good book with a really lovely cup of tea, not any old stuff but a special one served in a beautiful china cup with a delicious chocolate or biscuit treat.’ Her voice warmed as she described the scene.

  She gave Alex at nudge at his raised eyebrow.

  ‘It’s a thing. I promise. You should try it some time.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘Well the guests like it. The morning coffee and afternoon tea sessions have been booked out.’

  ‘Must be the beautiful china cups.’ He winked at her.

  ‘Don’t mock. It makes a difference.’

  ‘Well I’m sorry the soup is in an ordinary bowl but you should eat up, while it’s still hot.’

  ‘Have you eaten?’ She said picking up her spoon and taking a welcome, warming mouthful of mutton broth.

  Alex smiled. ‘Who do you think make the bacon butties earlier? It’s impossible to cook bacon for someone else and not have it yourself. And I’ll grab some soup later.’

  ‘How’s the book?’ he asked picking up her discarded paperback, reading the blurb quickly and then opening up the book to read the first page as she carried on eating her soup.

  It felt oddly companionable, him reading, her eating.

  ‘Mm, that was delicious, thank you.’ She’d scraped every last mouthful out of the bowl.

  ‘No lasting damage to your appetite,’ said Alex laying the book aside taking the tray from her lap. ‘How’s your shoulder?’

  ‘Sore,’ said Lucy.

  ‘Let’s have a look.’

  Without thinking she rolled onto her front, awkwardly trying to lift her t-shirt.

  ‘Let me.’ Without fuss or awkwardness, he took over. ‘Ouch. Those bruises look worse today.’ He reached for the pot of balm and unscrewed the lid. ‘Do you think this helps?’

  ‘I…’ She had no idea, but, ‘it … smells nice,’ she substituted the words at the last minute, wondering what he’d say if she’d said it felt nice.

  Not nice, delicious, she decided as his fingers moved across her skin, working the balm with infinite gentleness into her shoulder blade. Closing her eyes with a sigh, she savoured the pull and tug of skin over bone, the heated friction of the warming balm and Alex’s careful, unhurried thoroughness. Magic hands chased down every bump and bruise, tender on the hurt spots, firmer on the bunched aching muscle. Her heated skin tingled and she squirmed into the mattress, aware that her nipples had peaked.

  ‘Mmm,’ she gave into the long low groan, when he hit a knot, kneading with a rocking motion that chafed her nipples against her bunched-up t-shirt. She softened her spine in pure appreciation, losing track of time as his hands mapped every inch of her back, paying slow careful attention to the landmarks of her accident. Finally, he reached the dip of her spine where the duvet covered her hips and for a few delicious seconds his fingers stroked the hard valley of bone, toying with the smooth skin. Anticipation balled in her stomach, a primeval longing for his hands to dip lower, to stroke down her bottom, find her thighs. Involuntary, she shifted, widening her legs.

  She felt the loss when his hands lifted and she wriggled her hips in complaint.

  ‘No kisses today,’ she said dreamily, and then froze when she realised what she’d said. Her fingers dug into the feather down of the pillow.

  Alex didn’t say anything.

  She bit her lip, fighting the urge to bury her head under the pillow.

  Then one by one, he carefully brushed over the bruises, gently circling each one. An open-mouthed kiss and her skin quivered under each gentle silken stroke.

  ‘Sorry, the balm doesn’t taste that great.’

  She gulped, her face suddenly a fiery red, wanting to die of embarrassment.

  Alex chuckled and pulled her t-shirt back into place and then dropped a kiss at the nape of her neck, his breath hot over her ear as he whispered. ‘Maybe next time. I need to get back to work.’

  In the event, she didn’t see Alex again that evening. Hekla dashed in with a meal at six o’clock, looking harried.

  Lucy who’d been spent the afternoon in unwelcome solitude with the company of too many brooding, regretful thoughts, was desperate for someone to talk to, to take her mind away from Alex and her unsubtle, slappery, blurted out invitation. She wasn’t sure whic
h was worse, the fact that she’d uttered the words or the fact that he’d turned her down.

  ‘Can you stay for a while?’ she asked rather pathetically.

  Hekla’s blue eyes looked hunted.

  ‘Is everything alright?’ asked Lucy immediately suspicious.

  ‘Ja. Fine. Fine.’

  ‘Which means it isn’t,’ said Lucy pinning her down with a piercing look.

  Hekla lifted her hands in frustrated surrender.

  ‘Alex said not to bother you.’

  ‘He did, did he?’

  ‘And it’s fine … he’s taken boss, I mean he’s in charge. With everything under charge, I mean control.’

  ‘Hekla,’ Lucy’s warning note, made the blonde girl look even more flustered.

  ‘A coachload of forty people arrived half an hour ago. For dinner. The driver says there was a booking. I don’t …’ her brow creased in consternation. ‘I don’t remember.’

  Lucy threw back the bedclothes, swinging her legs.

  ‘No, no. It’s fine. Now it is. Honest Lucy. Brynja and I are helping Alex in the dining room. Kristjan has already come up with a plan. There is nothing you can do. But I can’t stay too long.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  Hekla nodded. ‘Alex is on it. Like he’s the manager.’

  ‘Yeah, he is good.’

  Hekla grinned, raising cheeky eyebrows.

  ‘At managing things,’ said Lucy sharply, blushing but unable to keep her mouth from tilting into a reluctant smile. ‘We ought to think about promoting him. It would cut your workload.’

  ‘Ja, that would be good. He would be in the office with us more. A nice view,’ teased Hekla.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Lucy said primly, pursing her lips.

  ‘You do.’

  Lucy sighed and sat back against her pillows.

  ‘If you’re feeling better, I have a plan,’ said Hekla suddenly.

  ‘I’m feeling better,’ said Lucy, sitting straighter.

  ‘I need to make some arrangements.’ Hekla looked rather pleased with herself. ‘It will be a surprise,’ she said as, with a skip in her step, she headed for the door.