Escape for Christmas

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

A few wispy flakes of snow were falling as Sophie snuggled into the window seat of her sitting room, pulling a fleecy blanket over her legs and holding a mug of hot chocolate. Jingle and Belle had been very reluctant to venture out and spent most of the day curled up in their radiator cradles or on the heated airer in the utility room.

Since her visit to the vet’s a few days before she’d been busy, though not as rushed off her feet as during the summer season, when the guest house had been fully booked for weeks on end. The constant changeovers, breakfasts and guests to greet had been exhausting and, in the busiest period, she’d fallen into bed after dark, waking up early at sunrise.

Even though she loved hosting her guests, her first season had been draining. She’d told herself that she’d be fine if she kept busy and was surrounded by people, but she’d often felt quite lonely, especially at first. Gradually, though, without her even noticing, her heart ached less and she found Ben intruding into her thoughts less frequently.

When she did get some free time, she’d head out for long walks on the fells or for trips into the village, grateful for how things had turned out after all, giving her the chance to live her dream.

The walks were one of the main reasons guests came to stay. In fact she had two rooms currently occupied by couples who were keen walking companions. They’d taken advantage of a clear day to rise before dawn and climb Helvellyn that morning, leaving details of their route with Sophie in case they got into difficulty, as per mountain-rescue advice to all walkers. You couldn’t rely on a mobile signal in the mountains, though it was a fine day, so the hill would probably be swarming with walkers and they’d be unlikely to be without help, if they did have an accident.

With the house empty, Sophie allowed herself a short break and wanted to double-check she’d got all her plans in place for her Christmas escapees. Although she had sophisticated booking apps on her laptop and phone, there was always the possibility that the Internet might go down in bad weather. Or the app cease to work. Or both. Years of experience in retail had taught her always to have a back-up plan, and so Sophie was prepared.

She flipped open a notebook with the names, addresses, phone numbers and emails of all her guests, plus any special requests. As this was her first time hosting a ‘full board’ experience, she was also using the notebook to work out her menus, entertainment and any other requirements. Since advertising the Escape, four of the five rooms were booked, which was one in the eye for the negative people who had doubted she’d get any guests at all.

A few locals had sneered at her ad, mostly owners of other accommodation who’d questioned the wisdom of swimming against the tide of seasonal offerings, particularly in Sophie’s first year of running the business, and needing to build repeat guests. Sophie had explained her reasons, taking great pride in telling them that four of the five rooms were already booked. She hoped that she might get another booking in the couple of weeks left before Christmas, so that Sunnyside would be fully occupied. That would be a nice way to finish off her first year.

Sipping her hot chocolate, she read through her notes again, in case she’d missed anything:

Room 1: Amber Smith. From Edinburgh. On her own. Online booking. Requested a quiet room with a view.

Fortunately, she thought, all the rooms had gorgeous views.

Room 2: Una and Hugo Hartley-Brewer. A phone booking. Brummie accents. Address in a Warwickshire village: not that far from Stratford.

Sophie would have something in common with them and it would be a conversation starter, being from a similar part of the world, but there was always the risk of them knowing someone she did. She added a note to herself:

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 on Christmas 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.’

‘Of course, then you don’t have to make something separate for Fliss. I should get back to things, but I’ll speak to you soon,’ she promised, then hung up after they’d said their goodbyes.

Her mum mentioning cooking reminded Sophie of how much she had on her own plate. She took a deep breath to calm herself down, telling herself that she’d chosen this path, this place, she was in control and she could do this.

After the call ended, Sophie went to check that the cats weren’t in the guest areas. Vee had finished the changeovers and taken the dirty linen to the laundry, and the dishwasher was churning away. All was right with the world – apart from the fact that Sophie still hadn’t responded to Brody’s invitation.

Next she headed for the office to deal with the admin. The answerphone was flashing, which was pretty unusual these days. Most of her bookings came from her website and from booking agencies, but some guests still liked to phone to ask questions about the rooms and facilities and to get a better feel for her as an owner.

She listened to the message before she could tackle her emails.

‘Hello.’ A softly spoken man with a slightly unusual accent that she couldn’t place greeted her. One moment he sounded pure North London, the next pure Rome. ‘Do you still have a room available for the Christmas break? I mean, the “ Escape for Christmas” break. Oh, yeah. My name’s – it’s Nico Lombardi.’ He left his number, speaking so quickly that Sophie could barely understand it.

Luckily her telephone-message deciphering skills had been honed over years of running the shop and working out garbled messages from all over the world, demanding ‘bare-bottom baubles’ (flat-bottomed, it turned out) and ‘hairy tinsel’.

Sophie called him straight back.

‘Nico,’ he barked, sounding agitated.

‘Mr Lombardi. It’s Sophie Cranford from Sunnyside Guest House in the Lake District. You left me a message?’

‘Did I? Oh yeah. Sorry. Work is hectic.’ A warmth crept into his voice, realising who was calling. ‘Yes, am I too late? I bet I’m too late. I tried to get on the website at work – not that I should – but the Internet went down. IT are fixing it. Nightmare!’

‘I bet,’ said Sophie patiently.

‘Anyway, I need to get away. From Christmas, I mean. And I saw this when I googled alternative Christmas breaks,’ he explained, talking as quickly as he did on his phone message.

‘You’re in luck. We do still have one room available, though I have someone else interested in it,’ Sophie replied, crossing her fingers that he’d confirm because of her little white lie.

‘Brilliant. I’ll have it.’

‘I’d need to take full payment now,’ she told him.

‘Great, happy to pay now. I don’t care.’

‘Oh, OK.’ She’d never known a guest show such enthusiasm for parting with their cash. It seemed too good to be true. In fact … ‘Before I take your booking, you’re aware that this isn’t a traditional Christmas break?’ she said firmly, so that Nico couldn’t interrupt or dash off. ‘We’re providing food and entertainment from Christmas Eve until after breakfast on 27 December, but the … celebrations will be very different from the usual. Just in case you were expecting turkey and carols. The details are on the website, in case you want to have a look when the Internet is back up and then ring me again?’

‘I don’t care if you’re sending us all out to build our own igloos and hunt a seal for lunch,’ Nico insisted. ‘I need to book somewhere for Christmas and fast .’

That sounded a bit odd, but if he was happy to pay up front, then a booking was a booking.

‘Right … well, I would have to insist on full payment in case you cancelled at such short notice.’

‘I won’t cancel. I’ve got my card ready, if we can do that now,’ Nico said hurriedly.

‘Of course,’ she replied brightly.

Sophie took the card details and sent him a confirmatory email, which he’d hopefully receive when his Wi-Fi was working again.

She added him to her online booking system – and to her notebook too:

Room 5. Nico Lombardi. Italian? Not quite sure why he’s coming?

Her guests’ personal lives were none of her business, even if some of them seemed intent on making it so. She’d joked to Vee that she could make a good living as a blackmailer if the B&B failed. But with every month that had a good occupancy rate, those worries were pushed to the back of her mind.

Now that all the rooms were full, she could finalise her plans. She fired off an email to the flamenco troupe to make sure they were still coming, ordered an extra delivery of logs for the fire and made a start on the special welcome gift-packs for the guests’ rooms.

This Escape had to be a success. She’d staked so much on it and was determined to prove to everyone that she wasn’t the only person in the world who wanted to move away from the traditional Christmas, with all of its associations.

Sophie was also beginning to realise that she could be successful on her own, and one day would be able to achieve her other dreams too, like starting a family.

From now on, she should try to focus on the future and all the things she’d achieved in her new home. In the short term, that meant deciding whether to go to Brody’s party. After all, he had been sympathetic to her need to move away from a traditional Christmas, and he seemed a decent guy. Perhaps he really was one of the good ones.

While Sophie wasn’t sure she could face too much festive bonhomie, she didn’t want to let him down. After all, Brody had said she’d be doing him a favour …