Page 52 of Escape for Christmas
Suzanne had stopped mid-sentence, fumbled for a tissuefrom her pocket and sneezed violently. ‘Oh God. Sorry, I didn’t think I had a cold, but my eyes are so itchy and I keep sniffling.’
Sophie watched her go, seeing her trousers covered in fur. Somehow she had to retrieve Jingle’s blanket and make sure the cats stayed in her flat. First, however, she had to deal with the dancers, who were probably half frozen and traumatised by their horrendous journey.
She opened the front door to a blast of icy air.
A red-faced muscular man stood in the porch, snow melting on his bald head. He looked more like an Olympic wrestler than a snake-hipped flamenco dancer. Perhaps he played the guitar, Sophie thought, spotting a people carrier on the drive through the swirling snow.
‘Thank goodness you’re here,’ she said warmly.
The man frowned. ‘You’ve been expecting us?’
‘Of course, though I’m amazed you got through the snow. I suppose the dancing will soon warm you all up.’
‘Dancing?I think there’s been a mistake,’ he said, brushing melting snow from his head.
‘So you’re not the flamenco troupe?’
‘No, sorry. It’s just me, my wife and our two kids. Or should that be two and a half,’ he said anxiously. ‘My wife is thirty-eight weeks pregnant.’
‘Oh, erm – congratulations.’ Sophie didn’t know what else to say, or why this harassed man was at her door in a snowstorm.
‘We were trying to get to my mother-in-law’s in the next village. We managed OK in the Jeep until about halfa mile away, but since then it’s been a nightmare. It wasn’t snowing further down in the valley and we wouldn’t have set off, if we’d known. I finally got the car moving again, but there’s a tree blocking the road past your gate. We saw this is a guest house, so I turned in …’ He paused for breath. ‘We were really hoping you could put us up for the night. Actually I don’t know what we’ll do if you can’t.’
‘I’m so sorry, but we’re fully booked,’ Sophie said. But, seeing the man’s crestfallen expression, she knew there was no alternative and she couldn’t simply leave them outside. ‘Don’t worry. Come inside out of the cold, get warm and comfortable and we’ll work something out.’
His shoulders slumped in relief. ‘Thank God for that. I’ll help my wife and the kids out of the car. This wasn’t how they were meant to spend Christmas, and I’m sure you weren’t, either. I’m Piotr Nowak, by the way.’
Sophie smiled. ‘It’s no problem at all, Mr Nowak. Please come inside and warm up.’
‘Call me Pete,’ he said. ‘Thanks for taking us in.’
While he returned to the people carrier, a series of calculations ran through Sophie’s mind. Did she have enough food? Yes, because she’d stocked the fridge and the freezer well. Where would the Nowaks sleep? They would have to have her bedroom. She’d have to kip on the sofa in her sitting room and shut the cats in the office.
How would they get out in the morning? If the snow continued and the temperature dropped overnight, the roads could turn to hard-packed ice. She’d heard severaltales of Troutbeck being cut off for days, with not even a snowplough or gritter able to get through.
With extra mouths to feed, she definitely didn’t have enough food to last beyond Boxing Day. But what happened beyond tomorrow had to be set aside, because Piotr was helping his wife up the step to the porch. Mrs Nowak – Anna – didn’t look much older than Sophie herself.
‘Thank God you let us in,’ she said, looking close to tears. ‘It’s been a nightmare, but I’m just so glad we’re safe.’
The children, who were about three and five, stuck like glue to their parents. This must be very strange for them.
‘Mummy?’ the little boy whimpered. ‘How will Santa find us here?’
‘He’ll leave your presents at Nanny’s,’ Anna said. ‘They’ll be waiting for you tomorrow when we get there, I promise.’
‘I hope so.’
The little girl started to cry.
‘She’s worn out,’ Pete said, picking up the toddler. ‘Aren’t you, Maria?’
Maria buried her face in his father’s shoulder while the boy, Baxter, stared at Sophie as if she was Peppa Pig come to life.
‘Well, would you all like to come through to the flat. I’m afraid the only room I have available is my bedroom.’
Anna cried in horror. ‘Oh no! We couldn’t turn you out of your own bed. That’s not fair.’
‘We’ll be very happy on the floor in one of your guest spaces – like a breakfast room?’ Pete offered.
