Page 20 of The Christmas Highland Lodge

I felt emotionally wrung out, after a hectic Saturday afternoon.

A huge variety of decorations now on discount were snapped up and our regulars expressed their shock at Christmas Crackers closing down, having read the notices I’d put up or heard the news from other locals.

The Craig Brae gossip line was in full operational order, but that came as no surprise, since Stephanie and Max Styles, who had only been living in the area for five minutes, had heard all about our closure too.

Another hot topic of conversation was Vivian’s whirlwind American romance with Ridley.

A wide variety of comments and observations were made, ranging from ‘Jings! Fancy her running off with someone she’s only known five minutes and at her age!’ to ‘Good luck to her. I don’t suppose he has a twin brother?’

I tried to focus on the shop, but my mind travelled back to Stephanie and Max and their log cabins. I couldn’t take on something like that… could I?

It was such a huge responsibility and the Styleses would be investing so much in me. After splitting from Kyle, losing Dad and now the shop, I didn’t know whether I felt capable of rising to such a demanding challenge.

As I wrapped up baubles, slid coils of tinsel into bags and enthused over our sets of Chinese lantern-style Christmas lights, thoughts turned over and over in my head. It would be such a rewarding job. Not to mention that I would still be working locally and therefore be around for Mum. Despite her protestations, I knew she appreciated me being there for her and, likewise, her for me.

But making a success of the lodges was going to take a monumental effort. My nerves jangled again like Christmas bells as I thought about it.

My phone pinged under the counter, signalling the arrival of a new email. I fetched it out and located my inbox.

It was from the local hotel, inviting me to interview for the post of part-time receptionist I had applied for.

I chewed my lip, frowned and clicked away from the message.

* * *

That night in bed, I lay lost in my thoughts and thrashing around.

After a few more disgruntled minutes, I threw back the covers, padded through to the kitchen and made myself a cup of relaxing camomile tea to take back to bed.

My alarm clock proclaimed it was 3.15am.

Oh, bloody hell!

I clambered back under the covers, cradling my mug and taking a few grateful sips. Through the gap in my hessian curtains, I could make out the spikey treetops, as though they had been dipped in ink and the silhouette of the surrounding hills, like slumbering giants.

The imposing hillsides that surrounded us in Craig Brae drew in keen walkers and coach holidays, not to mention the two distilleries positioned at either end of the town.

We experienced mild summers and cool winters and the visitors just kept coming back for more. I loved it and had missed the crisp zing of fresh air and the swathes of piercing pine trees while I had been away studying in Glasgow.

We were all about outdoor pursuits and glowing with the energy of fresh air in these parts. It had been known for the odd visitor to fall in love with Craig Brae and move here permanently, or at least buy a property to use as a weekend retreat.

Even in the stillness of the middle of the night like this, I could understand the appeal of my hometown and the magical spell it cast.

I took another mouthful of my tea. What would my dad say to me right now, if he were here? I could feel my eyelids drooping, as I set my tea down on my beside table.

‘Lottie. Why are you hesitating?’ asked Dad, tilting his brown floppy-haired head to one side.

‘I’m not.’

‘Yes, you are. You’re procrastinating.’ His dark-blue eyes shone. ‘You know, you never give yourself enough credit.’

I brushed off his comment. ‘That’s not true.’

‘It is. Look at what you’ve achieved with Christmas Crackers. You turned that shop around and have kept things going. Vivian couldn’t have done any of that without you and she’s very open about that.’

I stared across at my father, noting the way one of his brows would always arch upwards when he was thinking about something. It made him look like he was surprised.

‘You’re just like me,’ he grinned, displaying that familiar, slim gap between his two front teeth. ‘Christmas crazy. That’s why you have made such a success of things. That shop was a labour of love for you.’