Don’t mention the shop, if possible.
She’d need to steer the conversation onto other subjects, because the last thing she wanted was to have to explain everything to strangers. Hopefully her guests would be more interested in chatting to each other than to her. They were well aware that the break would be sociable, with a communal Christmas Eve supper and Christmas Day buffet lunch, plus breakfast and supper on Boxing Day.
Sophie was sure she’d be collapsed in her flat by then, but hopefully the guests would be happy, although there was one she was a little worried about:
Room 3: Mrs Agatha Freeman. On her own. Phone booking. Living in Cambridge, so will have a very long journey. Probably desperate to see hills after all those flat fens? Polite but brisk and not inclined to chit-chat. Slightly scary –former headmistress?
Sophie smiled. She rather enjoyed finding out if her expectations of the guests matched the real thing. Sometimes they did, but often she was surprised, and she found it interesting getting to meet people from such varied walks of life.
Room 4. Suzanne Haughton Smith. Another solo traveller. Address in Truro.
Jingle yawned loudly, showing an impressive set of fangs.
Sophie worked her way through the list of food and drink she would need, until her mobile rang and her mother’s face popped up on the screen.
‘Hello, Mum? Are you OK?’
‘Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?’ her mum asked.
‘Only I thought you’d be at work,’ Sophie explained, noting that at this time her mother was usually manning reception in the local doctor’s surgery.
‘I’m using up my holiday and taking a few days off. Are you cleaning rooms?’
‘No, I’m planning what holiday food’ – she almost said ‘Christmas’ – ‘to get for the guests.’
Her mum sighed. ‘You should be the one who’s pampered at Christmas, not your guests. You need to sit back and relax and let someone else wait on you, after the year you’ve had.’
Sophie prepared for battle. ‘I don’t want all that fuss, Mum. I can’t face it. I’ve explained already.’
‘I know, love, but your dad and I are worried about you,’ her mum said softly.
‘Don’t be. I’m spending Christmas exactly how I want to: by not having one.’
‘Is it a good idea to avoid it?’
Sophie briefly glanced out of her window, with the snow-topped mountains beyond. She found it calming to look at them.
‘I promise I’m not avoiding it, just spending it in a different way. I want to keep busy and it should be fun. We’re having a paella on Christmas Day and flamenco dancing onChristmas Eve, plus I’ll see you before the New Year. I’m looking forward to seeing you all and catching up with Lyra and some of my other friends, if they’re around.’
‘Well, if you change your mind, love, you know where we are.’
‘I won’t change my mind, Mum. I can’t change it, because I’ll have a full house of guests. But I promise I’ll call you later in the day,’ Sophie assured her.
‘Can we send you photos? Rob and Fliss are bringing the new baby. You’ll miss seeing him.’
A lump formed in Sophie’s throat. Oh no, she might cry. Reminding her that her new nephew was joining them for Christmas was a cruel blow. She loved her brother and his growing family, but she didn’t want her family feeling sorry for her.
As they spoke, Belle stretched and deftly made her way along various pieces of furniture to the window seat. She sat at one end, watching Sophie with narrowed golden eyes. Sophie reached out and stroked the cat’s fur.
‘Sophie?’ Her mum said gently. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Y-yes. I’m fine.’ She blinked back tears. ‘Look, I’ll be back for a longer visit in the New Year and we can all get together and have a lovely lunch and I can see Alfie then.’
‘OK. I’ll arrange it now. I’ll cook a—’
‘Not turkey, Mum, please!’
‘I was going to say I’ll cook that nice mushroom-and-Stilton puff-pastry thing you all like.’
