Page 56 of Escape for Christmas
Hugo and Una were both glowing, their secret salsa experience really saving the day and making it such a fun first night. Hugo had already been upstairs to exchange his checked shirt for something ‘more appropriate’, which turned out to be a racy pale-blue one. Neither of them seemed the slightest bit fatigued, despite Suzanne mopping her brow and Sophie feeling like she’d climbed to the top of Helvellyn. Who knew that wiggling your hips and twirling around could be so knackering?
Amber had been persuaded to try out a few steps with Nico, in between mixing more cocktails behind the safety of the bar. ‘Shall I fetch some cold drinks. Soft ones?’ she suggested.
‘And if we’ve finished dancing, I could bring in the pavlova …’ Sophie offered, keen to have a break.
‘What a jolly good idea!’ Agatha declared.
By the time Sophie returned with the pavlova, Agatha was snoring, despite the music still being on.
Una joined Sophie in dishing up the pavlova. ‘You know, we were both so worried about spending Christmas away from home. Even though it felt right when we booked it, we’ve both had misgivings ever since, but you’ve gone to such an effort and made us feel so welcome.’
‘I’m thrilled to hear it,’ said Sophie, boosted by the compliment. By making people’s stay special, she hoped to build up repeat visitors, who were the mainstay of a guest house’s business.
Una beamed. Her hair had come loose from its bun and her skin was glowing. ‘And in fact, although I wouldn’t dare tell the children, it’s been one of the best Christmas Eves we’ve ever spent.’
‘I’m delighted about that.’
Agatha let out a loud snore. Nico, Hugo and Una all burst out laughing.
‘I suspect Agatha would concur,’ Hugo said, in a passable imitation of her voice.
Una giggled. ‘You are naughty, Hugo.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Am I? I do hope so.’
Nico simply smiled as he accepted a generous bowl of pavlova from Sophie.
Agatha woke up and Sophie served everyone else, wondering what had happened to Amber and Suzanne. She got her answer a moment later when she heard raised voices from upstairs. When she opened the door, she immediatelyheard the two women having a heated debate on the landing.
‘Oh dear,’ Sophie exclaimed. ‘I’d better go up and referee.’
‘Chill out! It won’t get that bad,’ Nico said with a smile. ‘Probably.’
‘It’s OK for you to joke, but I need to think of the other guests. The Nowak family are trying to get some rest.’
‘If they slept through the salsa party, I’m sure they won’t be bothered by a couple of people rowing upstairs.’
‘I’m concerned about someone getting hurt. I have to try.’
‘You’re an angel,’ Nico said. ‘And a great cook. This pavlova is more-ish. Shall I dish out second helpings while you try to act as peace envoy? Tricky family situations aren’t my forte.’
‘Yes, please,’ she said.
A loud thud came from upstairs. Possibly a door slamming. Hopefully not an object being thrown …
Sophie went up to the landing, where Amber was standing outside Suzanne’s room, with her hands on her hips. ‘Look, this is silly. I only said it would be grown-up if we actually talked to each other about the situation. I didn’t know you’d be here, but we should just make the best of it.’
‘There’s nothing more to be said. I’m going to bed.’ Suzanne’s muffled voice came through the door.
Amber turned away and walked down the landing towards Sophie. ‘You see if you can do anything. I have tried, but it’s no use.’
‘It’s late and you’ve both had very tiring journeys. Maybe it’s better to leave it for tonight?’ Sophie offered.
‘Probably a good idea,’ Amber agreed with a resigned sigh. ‘The sad thing is that we’re arguing over something that’s not our fault at all. It’s our families that are in dispute or, more accurately, my mum and Suzanne’s mother and our respective siblings. They’re even more upset than we are, and I can’t help feeling that our father has left us a legacy of bitterness and hurt.’
‘That sounds very tough to deal with,’ Sophie replied. ‘Especially at this time of year. Could I ask one thing? Did you both simply end up here from opposite ends of the country? Is it a coincidence?’
‘Not really. My dad –ourdad – used to stay here years ago, way before you took over. He passed away earlier this year, but I remember him sending postcards from this guest house when he was away working, and I guess he must have sent both of us cards from here.’ She sighed. ‘Dad was a maintenance engineer and he worked on wind turbines as well as oil rigs. We only realised, when we found out about each other, that he’d been staying here on his way between Scotland and the South-West.’
