Christmas at the Falling-Down Guesthouse Page 9
He wouldn’t think so if he knew I’d bitten his brother-in-law.
‘The food was interesting…’ he continues.
‘It didn’t turn out quite like I’d imagined.’
‘Locking the children in the coal cellar when you were meant to be minding them certainly wasn’t clever.’
I can’t do anything but nod. I feel like the worst innkeeper in Britain. Maybe there’s a prize for that. I may as well win something.
‘And I’ve never seen a host set their dining table on fire before.’
The twins did think that was pretty cool though, so we’re due some points for entertainment, at least.
‘But at the end of the day, I came here to assess the B&B, which your aunt owns and runs. Presumably she runs it better than you.’
Ouch.
‘It’s definitely not perfect,’ he continues, ‘and she needs to sort out her plumbing before the health inspectors shut her down. As a B&B, this is a reasonable business and does meet enough of our standards to warrant the rating.’
‘Really?! That’s wonderful, thank you so much!’ I launch myself on Rupert.
‘Ehem, yes, well, you’re welcome.’
‘Phew. I didn’t think you were going to give it to us.’
The tiniest of smiles plays around his lips. ‘Prunella doesn’t like to admit it, but our Granny’s house looked a lot like this. It was draughty and a bit run down, but the weekends I spent there as a child, lying in front of the fire in the parlour and eating Granny’s cakes each teatime, are some of my happiest memories. Your aunt has a special place here.’ He brushes himself off and clears his throat. ‘And as I said, most of the faults were because of you, not the B&B per se... you’re not thinking of staying on to run it, are you?’
I shake my head. ‘No, I’ll go back to software programming where I belong.’
‘That’s best for everyone.’
Mabel, Danny and I wave them off just before noon.
‘That’s that then,’ says Danny as they pull out of sight.
That is that, then. We’ve done what we set out to do. Unless I do something fast, Danny is going to drive away from Aunt Kate’s B&B and out of my life. I’ve got no idea where things could lead with him, or even if he’d be interested in finding out. We might be completely ill-suited for each other, with nothing in common now that there’ll be no B&B to run. What do I know is that I like Danny, and it’s not for his cookery skills.
‘I’ve been thinking about the decorations inside,’ I say to him as Mabel runs back into the house to find Mingus. ‘And I could use help taking some of them down. Only the ones that I need the ladder to reach. I’d like to leave all the others for when Aunt Kate comes home. I just don’t want to climb up without someone holding the ladder, and, erm, with Aunt Kate’s broken leg, I can’t ask her for help later. Could you spare another half hour or so?’
I know I’m being ridiculous, playing the helpless female to draw out my time with him. My inner feminist is hanging her head in shame. But my heart is hoping a few more minutes might make some kind of difference.
‘Of course,’ he says, wrestling the ladder in from outside. He’s not wasting any time. This was a stupid idea.
He sets it up against the first window in the hall. ‘Do you want to climb up or hold the ladder?’
‘I’d better climb,’ I say. ‘I’m not sure I could catch you if you fell off.’
‘You’ve got a lot of faith in me.’
I pluck the pine boughs from the top of the valance and drop them on the floor. Well, at least this is one job I won’t have to do next week. I always find it depressing to take down the decorations. ‘We got the rating, you know.’
‘You are joking!’ he says. ‘What were his criteria? Missing persons and pyrotechnics?’
I climb down and let him carry the ladder to the next window. Then I pull down more boughs, smiling as the pine scent washes over me. It will be nice to get Aunt Kate home where we can have Christmas together. I might even try to cook that stew for her.
‘He said he appreciated our efforts,’ I tell him. ‘Though he didn’t buy the Victorian theme.’
‘That reminds me. I never did get my socks back.’
‘Sorry about that. I noticed Hugo packing them in the car. It didn’t seem like a good time to tell him his children’s Christmas stockings had come straight off your feet.’
We move to the last window.
‘They were such a weird family,’ he says.
He doesn’t know the half of it. ‘Rupert is going to Tanzania tomorrow, on his own.’
‘I don’t blame him. I’d rather take my chances out in the bush with lions than spend any more time with Prunella.’
The last of the boughs hits the floor. ‘That’s all of them.’
I climb down.
‘What about the mistletoe?’
It hangs there in the middle of the hall, an unwanted reminder of Hugo’s attentions.
Danny positions the ladder beneath it, and puts his hands on either side of me so that I can climb up.
‘Lottie? Wait a minute. There’s something I—’
As I turn to face him, his warm lips meet mine. They’re so perfectly soft, but a little bit urgent, and I know I want to stay in exactly this position for a very long time.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I couldn’t think of a better way to tell you. I’m very out of practice.’ He kisses me again. ‘I haven’t felt like this about anyone in a long time. We make a good team.’
‘Are we talking about the B&B?’ I kiss him back.
‘I hope we’re talking about everything,’ he murmurs as we break off our kiss. ‘But we must have done something right here. To get the rating, I mean.’
I think we’re doing a lot of things right and, at this very second, I couldn’t care less about the rating. ‘They must have just loved your food.’
‘Very funny.’
‘No really, it wasn’t bad. Although I wouldn’t bother buying you expensive ingredients again.’
‘Next time you can cook your own food.’
‘I think we both know that I can’t do that.’
‘Then for both our sakes, I think I’d better take you out to dinner.’
We kiss again under the mistletoe.
Danny drives us to the hospital that afternoon as usual. But instead of sitting in the back seat, I sit up front so I can hold his hand between gear changes. Every time I look in the rear-view mirror, I catch Mabel’s grin.
‘We’ll be two hours,’ I tell Danny.
‘Okay, I’ll run home quickly, but I’ll be here waiting when you get out.’
‘Just like you were the first day.’
He smiles and kisses me again. ‘Some things are worth waiting for.’
‘Danny, there’ll be plenty of time for that later,’ Mabel says. ‘Right now, we need to see Aunt Kate.’
I shrug. ‘She’s seven going on seventeen.’
‘She’s her mother’s daughter. See you soon.’
‘Aunt Kate, you’re awake!’ Mabel says when we get to her room. ‘We’ve got so much to tell you!’
‘Hello, love.’ She pats the mattress beside her.
‘Careful, Mabel,’ I warn. ‘How are you feeling?’
I take my aunt’s hand.
‘I feel like I’ve been run down by a lorry, but it’s better than the alternative. I gather I’ve been sleeping for a while.’
‘Five days. The doctor has been great.’
She nods. ‘She must have thought there’s some life left in these old bones yet.’
‘Mummy has a boyfriend,’ Mabel says.
Aunt Kate peers at me. ‘Does she now?’
Mabel nods. ‘His name is Danny and he’s our cook but not really our cook. He’s also our taxi driver. But not really that, either. He’s really our friend. That’s right, isn’t it, Mummy?’
‘That’s right. There’s a lot to tell you, Aunt Kate, but most importantly, the reviewer loved the
B&B and he’s going to give you the rating you need.’
‘Oh, that is wonderful news! So, everything went well then?’
‘Except for the fire,’ says Mabel.
‘Like I said, there’s a lot to tell you. Are you tired, though? We can always talk more tomorrow if you want to rest.’
‘Don’t you dare leave, Lottie. I want to hear every detail. Especially about this boyfriend of yours.’
But I start with the B&B, since that’s probably what Aunt Kate really wants to hear about. Mabel doesn’t let me gloss over any of the gory details. She’s a stickler for the whole truth, not to mention a very observant little girl who seemed to know that Danny and I liked each other before we’d realised it ourselves.
‘I’m just sorry that I’ve missed Christmas,’ Aunt Kate says. ‘I do so love the holidays.’
‘You haven’t missed it. We’re staying here until you get out, and then we’ll all have Christmas together.’
‘Will you really?’
I nod. ‘I’m not going back to London just yet. You’ll need help while your leg is healing, and I can work remotely for a few weeks. I’ll have my computer couriered up. Mabel doesn’t have to be back in school until mid-January.’
‘That will be wonderful, Lottie,’ Aunt Kate says. ‘It’s all worked out quite wonderfully, really.’
As promised, Danny is waiting for us when we leave the hospital.
‘Aunt Kate’s awake!’ Mabel says. ‘And we get to stay in Wales to have another Christmas. Does that mean we get more presents from Father Christmas, Mummy?’
‘No, honey, I’m afraid he doesn’t do encore performances. You’ll have to wait till next year, but remember you’ve still got lots of gifts at home.’
‘You are staying here for a while?’ Danny asks, grabbing my hand.
‘For a few weeks at least,’ I say. ‘Till Mabel needs to be back for school.’
‘I fly to the US tomorrow, but I’ll be back in a week.’
‘And then…’
‘And then we’ll work something out,’ he says. ‘It’s not ideal with me here and you in London, but it is only a few hours by train. I could come down and, if you don’t mind travelling a bit, you and Mabel could come here too?’
We kiss again. I can’t seem to get enough of him. ‘I don’t mind at all. What do you say, Mabel? Would you like to spend more weekends at Aunt Kate’s?’
‘Definitely, Mummy. Now that Mingus and I are friends, he’d be sad if we didn’t see each other. And Aunt Kate still needs to make me her Welsh cakes. I could murder one of those.’
‘I’ll tell you what, Mabel,’ says Danny. ‘I’ll look up a recipe on the internet and make you some when we get back to the B&B. It’ll be good practice.’
We both stare at him.
‘That’s okay, Danny,’ Mabel says, patting his shoulder over the back of the driver’s seat. ‘No offense, but I can wait for Aunt Kate to make them. You’d better practice being Mummy’s boyfriend. I think you’ll be a lot better at that.’
The End
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About the Author
Lilly Bartlett is the pen name of Sunday Times and USA Today best-selling author, Michele Gorman, who writes best-friend girl-power comedies under her own name.
Michele writes books packed with heart and humour, best friends and girl power. Call them beach books, summer reads or chick lit ... readers and reviewers call them ‘feel good’, ‘relatable’ and ‘thought-provoking’.
She was raised in the US and lives in London. She is very fond of naps, ice cream and Richard Curtis films but objects to spiders and the word ‘portion’.
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Copyright
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 Michele Gorman
The poem, ‘A Visit From St Nicholas’ by Clement Moore, reproduced in the text, is free from copyright as it is in the public domain.
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Also by Michele Gorman
Love is a Four-Legged Word
Match Me If You Can
The Curvy Girls Club
The Curvy Girls Baby Club
Perfect Girl
Life Change
Christmas Carol
Single in the City (The Expat Diaries I)
Misfortune Cookie (The Expat Diaries II)
Twelve Days to Christmas (The Expat Diaries III)
Writing as Lilly Bartlett
Christmas at the Falling-Down Guesthouse