‘What if they haven’t got any rooms available?’ Ginny felt like crying. Not only had she just had a row with Will, she was stuck in a blizzard in the middle of nowhere, and the only thing she could see was a huge pink love heart flapping in the wind beneath porch lights welcoming her to the Happy Honeymoon Hotel.
Great!
‘We don’t need a room. This snow will probably ease in a few hours. Wait here. I’ll see if it’s open.’
That was a decision she was happy with. The heating in the truck was set to cosy, so she wasn’t ready to leave it behind until she knew for sure it would be replaced with four walls and perhaps a crackling fireplace.
If I had a honeymoon hotel, I’d definitely have a big Father Christmas fireplace.
The door to the truck opened. ‘They said come in. Hurry, it’s freezing.’
Ginny clambered out into the cold, surprised when Will tucked her arm in his. Did he think she was incapable of running through a blizzard?
‘We could always pretend we’re married.’
She was sure that’s what he said, but what with icy snow whipping into her ears, she couldn’t be entirely sure.
‘Oh, goodness. Look at you two,’ said the elderly woman in the doorway. ‘Come in. Come in. Quickly now.’
Ginny took a breath as she swiped her hands down her soaked jumper. ‘Thank you so . . .’ The whole of the hallway was bright pink. ‘Much.’
‘I’m Mrs Henshaw, and Mr Henshaw will be down in a minute. Haemorrhoids keeps him in the bathroom for a bit longer these days.’
‘Ginny and Will,’ said Will.
Mrs Henshaw’s eyes peered at Ginny’s wedding finger. ‘Aren’t you married?’
‘Erm,’ muttered Will.
Mrs Henshaw twiddled with her buttoned cardigan. ‘It doesn’t matter if you haven’t reached that stage in your relationship yet. We’ll not shoo you back into the storm. You’ve landed on our doorstep, and you need shelter.’
Will and Ginny smiled.
Mrs Henshaw waved them over to a small dark desk. ‘Let me settle you into a room. This storm won’t pass until the morning. Just said on the news. Best to get snug and warm.’ She glanced up from her opened guestbook. ‘We’ve only got one room available, as the other two are being decorated. Thought it best to get on with that task this time of year, as we don’t get many guests. I’m glad we didn’t strip them all now. Lucky for you, eh?’
Ginny gazed around at the numerous foil love hearts hanging from the ceiling while Will pulled out his wallet and paid with his card.
‘I’ll just fetch our bags,’ said Will, heading for the door. ‘Won’t be a sec.’
‘Who is that down there, Mrs Henshaw?’ asked the smiley old man taking one step at a time as he descended the stairs.
Ginny offered a small wave. ‘Your wife’s rescuing us from the blizzard.’
‘Ooh, it’s got bad,’ he said, gaining traction as he reached the bottom step. He glanced at her bare ring finger. ‘Aren’t you married, young lady? We normally have couples blessed under the eyes of the Lord here.’
Ginny followed his eyes up to the ceiling.
Mrs Henshaw turned to her husband. ‘They’re not on their honeymoon. They’re sheltering from the storm.’
Will came bustling through the front door, bringing half the blizzard with him. ‘Hiya. You must be Mr Henshaw. I’m Will,’ he said, shaking hands with the old man. ‘Thanks for taking us in.’
‘Let me show you to your room,’ said Mrs Henshaw. ‘Then you can come down to the dining room and have some dinner with us later. Food is included in your bill, as is bedding and towels, but you will have to pay extra if you want to watch the television in the parlour without us. We don’t have it on all hours. There isn’t one in the rooms, you know, what with this being a honeymoon hotel. Folk don’t stay here to watch TV.’
They followed her up the stairs and along the landing to room number one.
‘Oh, good Lord!’ Ginny gasped at the sight of the ruby-red bedding, sickly-pink walls, and heart-shaped cushions scattered on the maroon chaise longue over by the window.
Mrs Henshaw frowned.
