And it wasn’t weird or creepy at all that I knew what he smelt like.
I tried not to look around with too much interest and since he didn’t really have anything out in his room that demonstrated he was inhabiting it, it wasn’t too hard. In fact, it could have been vacant but for his backpack and a small suitcase lined up by the wall. Where had that come from?
Urgh – focus, Beth, it really isn’t important.
Elise glanced up at me but carried right on removing the bed sheets, wasting no time. Maybe my sense of urgency was infectious or maybe she was just always this efficient and I’d never really noticed. At this rate, she would be finished turning the rooms over before I even walked back downstairs. Suddenly, she was my absolute favourite person and I was hoping in a minute I’d be hers.
‘How do you fancy doing some overtime today, Elise?’ She straightened and gave me a dubious look, but I gave her my most winning smile. ‘I’ll pay you double-bubble – in cash – for the whole day.’
Her eyes lit up, but she chewed her lip. ‘I can’t do the whole day, my daughter—’
‘Whatever you can do. Mainly, I need you here to help me with lunch. I’ll still pay you double for the whole day. You deserve a Christmas bonus; you’ve been working so hard.’
‘Your mother does give us a Christmas bonus.’
Not a big enough one according to Henry, but then I didn’t know what he was paid, or how big his bills were, or—
I shook my head; I couldn’t get distracted with any of my guilt about that right now.
‘Sure – but everyone gets that – and I don’t see everyone here at the moment, do you?’
She nodded a little and tugged the top sheet of the bed tighter. I did my best not to think about Nick sleeping in it, or what he wore when he did so.
‘If you need to get your daughter and bring her here, that’s fine with me.’
‘No. That’s okay, she is with my mother-in-law again, but I can’t leave her too long.’ She smoothed the cover once more and then nodded again a little more assertively. ‘I can stay until after lunch though.’
‘Brilliant.’ I came very close to clapping my hands together. ‘So. Do you know anything about either waitressing or cooking?’
Chapter Nine
I barely had a moment to think during the lunch service. In contrast to the previous evening, when most of the guests had been in the village, none of them had ventured out far and everyone wanted something to eat.
The snow was falling so heavily now that I couldn’t see anything out of the window. Elise took over the service in the dining room and I spent the whole time in the kitchen warming up dozens of bowls of chicken, onion and minestrone soups and trying my best not to char the tuna mayonnaise paninis.
When lunch was over, I loaded up the dishwasher with bowls and spoons, and then consulted Neeta’s list once more. Where there were ticks by the line entries that Henry had obviously completed, there were ominous blank spaces next to the words ‘bake mince pies’ and ‘mull wine’.
Surely that only meant reheating. Not baking…as in from scratch?
I searched through the cupboards but there was no sign of mince pies. What I did find were jars and jars of homemade mincemeat. My stomach clenched. Kitchen novice I may have been but even I knew that there needed to be some pastry wrapped around that.
There wasn’t any in the fridge or pantry. I’d even searched the cupboards, despite knowing full well that uncooked pastry could not be kept in a cupboard. That was what panic did to you, and boy was I panicking now.
There was nothing else for it, I was going to have to go out and buy some: either pastry or actual mince pies. Mince pies would probably be better, given that time was refusing to stand still for me. How likely was it that I would find enough mince pies at the greengrocer’s in the village two days before Christmas? Not very but I had to try.
I ran out into the lobby and dashed into the office to pick up all my outdoor clothing from the coat stand – and then added a few of my mother’s garments to it as well. I was still wrapping and buttoning myself up in as many layers as possible as I moved towards the front door. If I paused for too long I would end up rethinking this course of action and I couldn’t afford delays.
‘Yes, yes, Nan, I’m fine – I’ll be back soon – just want to grab a jumper and freshen up. Of course – go ahead.’
Nick was backing out of the doorway to the library with a reassuring smile on his face; right up until the moment it closed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses so they rested on his knuckles as he squeezed, his eyes shut.
Something inside me stilled, just like last night when I saw him across the crowd. Not just because the sight of him flicked all my aesthetic appreciation switches but because, when he didn’t know someone was looking, the brokenness he was feeling was plain to see.
I could feel my Aretha Franklin armour weakening. Ms Independent here wanted nothing more than to throw herself at that hunk of tortured-man-candy and comfort him. I knew what it was to lose a parent. And I genuinely would have offered that comfort to anyone if I thought it would help them, even if just for a moment, not to feel so alone in their grief.
But two things were stopping me: first, he hadn’t told me about his mum and until he did I had to assume he didn’t want to talk about it, and second, if I did actually throw my arms around him in a hug, dressed up in the number of layers that I was, I was likely to knock us both to the floor and keep rolling like a woollen snowball.
He dropped his hand, turned around and spotted me in my bulky outdoor wear – how could he miss me really? Shoving his hands in his pockets, he tilted his head to the side. ‘You can’t be going outside. It’s a full-on blizzard out there.’
