Page 17 of The Christmas Highland Lodge

‘They’re supposed to be cosy, indulgent self-catering holiday accommodation,’ muttered Max. ‘Our plan was to have our first guests stay in them at Christmas and then accommodate more tourists for the rest of the year.’ He pulled a face. ‘They look more like they’ve been thrown together and then stirred with a stick.’

Stephanie encouraged me to look into the master bedroom. There was a silver skull sporting a Santa hat on one of the bedside tables and black and red bedding. I recoiled in horror. It was more like a sacrificial pit than a sumptuous bedroom.

‘Come and see the rest of the cabins,’ said Stephanie.

As I thought, the other three were very much in the same vein. The second was decked out in plum and berry, with weird Perspex furniture and a bedraggled Christmas tree made out of paper stationed in the corner of the sitting room.

The third and fourth cabins carried a checked theme and reminded me of a Scottish biscuit tin. Again, they had Christmas decorations that looked like they had been stashed in someone’s attic gathering dust for the past thirty years.

As we wandered from room to room, cabin to cabin, the Styleses explained that each one was fully self-contained, with an electric shower, bathroom, fully kitted out kitchen with wood-burning stove, as well as gas hob, oven and fridge.

‘We’ve tried to be as environmentally friendly as we can,’ said Stephanie. ‘We insisted the builders use sustainable timber, as well as sheep’s wool insulation and even sheep’s wool duvets.’

‘Even the water we supply to each cabin comes from our private spring,’ added Max.

I followed Max and Stephanie out of the last cabin.

‘So,’ exclaimed Max. ‘What did you think?’

My cheeks heated up. Oh God. I had to be honest. But what if I was too honest? I could end up talking myself out of prospective employment. I eyed him and then Stephanie. ‘I think the environmental considerations you have undertaken are wonderful. It’s a pity more businesses didn’t think like you.’

‘But?’ asked Max with a hint of a wry smile, that made fine lines appear around his mouth.

‘I’m sorry,’ I faltered, flashing awkward glances at them both. ‘I don’t like them. In fact, I think they look awful – on the inside,’ I quickly clarified. ‘From the outside, they’re gorgeous.’

‘We agree with you,’ sighed Stephanie. ‘That’s what we get for employing the granddaughter of one of Max’s closest friends.’

Max flinched. ‘I won’t be doing that again.’ He rubbed at his tanned forehead. ‘My friend assured me she was good. Very good. She’s studying fashion in Edinburgh.’

Stephanie squinted under the washed-out November sky. ‘As Max just explained, we wanted to launch the four cabins in time for Christmas and asked Millie to make them a reflection of the perfect woodland getaway dream.’

‘Instead, they’re a ruddy nightmare,’ seethed Max, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. ‘She’s gone all quirky and that isn’t what we asked for.’ He gave me a hopeful smile. ‘If you were in charge, Lottie, what would you do with them?’

‘Do?’

‘Yes. How would you improve them? Make them more appealing?’

I surveyed the four cabins under the moody Saturday afternoon sky. They carried so much potential, surrounded by the tangle of thick woods, with the tantalising glimpses of Loch Strathe facing them through the trees.

Pictures of them drizzled with snowflakes leapt into my head. I envisaged the porches each carrying a different colour of Christmas tree: white, silver, electric blue and rose gold.

There would be ivy wrapped around the porch bannisters and a sparkly, illuminated wreath on each door.

‘Lottie?’

‘Oh, sorry.’ I blushed at Stephanie. I cleared my throat. ‘Well, if I were to improve them for the festive season, I would start off by giving each of them an individual Christmas-related theme.’

‘Go on,’ said Max.

I described how I would have a pretty Christmas tree on each porch and wreaths on the door. Warming to my theme, I indicated to the lovely expanse of woodland they were set in. ‘I’d have lit up reindeer situated around the cabins and string some lantern-style lights in the woods, leading up here.’

Stephanie’s eyed glowed. ‘That sounds so lovely.’

‘And I would have someone playing the part of Father Christmas, serving toasted marshmallows and hot chocolate as the guests arrived.’

Max’s lined mouth twitched with appreciation. ‘And how would you go about marketing them?’

My head was buzzing with enthusiasm. ‘Maybe as a Magical Escape or a Woodland Wonder. There could be a reindeer ride through the woods here for families and a present hunt. Each cabin would have its own name…’ I realised I wasn’t pausing for breath and pulled myself up. ‘Sorry. Anything to do with Christmas and I get carried away.’