Escape for Christmas

Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Amber glared at Suzanne, who seemed to shrink back under the cat blanket for protection. ‘Well, what are you doing here?’ she demanded.

Suzanne finally snapped into action. ‘I could say the same about you. Are you stalking me?’

‘Stalking you?’ Amber sneered. ‘As if I’d want anything to do with your family.’

Suzanne got up, the cat blanket falling onto the floor. In her knee-high boots she was almost a foot taller than her adversary.

Sophie stepped in. Which was a mistake, because she then seemed to take the brunt of their anger.

‘Did you know about this?’ Suzanne asked.

‘About “what?”’ Sophie said. ‘If you mean, did I know that you were – acquainted – then absolutely not. I saw you had similar surnames, but “Smith” is a very common one. I mean, it’s not unusual,’ she added in case her words were misconstrued.

‘We’re not “acquainted”,’ Amber said haughtily.

Suzanne groaned. ‘It’s worse than that. We’re related.’

‘ Related? ’ Sophie repeated.

‘We’re sisters,’ Amber explained. ‘ Half -sisters, to be accurate.’

‘If we’re being accurate,’ Amber said smoothly, ‘we’re only related because my father decided to have an affair with Suzanne’s mother. It was years ago obviously, but we’ve only recently found out that he had another family. It seems he was doing more than working on the oil rigs while he was up in Scotland.’

‘To be fair, we’d no idea you even existed,’ Suzanne shot back. ‘And it wasn’t an affair, because my mum didn’t even know he had another family.’

‘ My mum was actually married to him,’ Amber retorted sharply.

‘Um, would you both like to talk about this somewhere more private?’ Sophie suggested, aware that the other guests were gripped by the drama unfolding in front of them.

Suzanne glanced around her, shame-faced, as if she’d only just realised they had an audience. ‘I think it’s better if we don’t talk about it all. I apologise for the trouble,’ she said spikily.

Amber folded her arms. ‘I think I’ll go back up to my room and have my tapas there. If you don’t mind,’ she directed this at Sophie. ‘I’m sorry for causing a scene too, but of course I’d never have dreamed of coming if I’d known Suzanne was going to be here. I came here to avoid any family drama.’ She walked off and thumped up the stairs.

Suzanne shrugged apologetically as Amber left.

‘Why don’t you come into the office and we’ll have a chat about how to – er – manage the situation,’ Sophie said, although she was at a loss as to what she could possibly do, now that the two warring siblings were stuck under the same roof.

Suzanne nodded. ‘Thank you. I’ll just pop to my room and then I’ll be straight back,’ she said, emphasising the last few words as if to show she wouldn’t be petty enough to flounce off upstairs.

‘I’ll be in the office whenever you want to talk.’

As Suzanne also went upstairs, Sophie finally turned her attention to the watching audience.

Nico lounged in a chair, one leg crossed over the other as if he owned the place. ‘Should I fetch some popcorn?’ he said.

Una giggled. Hugo smirked.

Agatha wagged her finger at him. ‘Nico Lombardi. You are a very, very wicked man.’

While Suzanne was upstairs, Sophie collapsed into her office chair to compose herself. There was nothing she could – or should – do about her guests’ personal lives, unless their behaviour impacted on the comfort of the other visitors, who were clearly intrigued and entertained, but she wouldn’t allow a full-on war to break out.

Amber was out of the way – for now – and maybe Sophie could find out a little more information about the situation from Suzanne; maybe enough insight to keep the peace until morning. If either or both of them wanted to leave, that was their decision.

It was a mystery to her how the two sisters had both ended up at Sunnyside … perhaps they had more in common than they liked to admit, because they’d chosen the same guest house for a getaway. Hopefully, once they’d calmed down, they’d feel better tomorrow and wouldn’t want to leave, but if they did, she couldn’t stop them. One thing was for sure: the drama unfolding at Sunnyside had taken her mind off what might be going on at Felltop Farm.

A few minutes later Suzanne poked her head around the office door, with a slightly sheepish expression that might have been embarrassment.

‘Erm, sorry to bother you, but I’ve just heard someone at the door,’ she said.

Sophie nodded. Counselling Suzanne would have to wait for a while, and the little scene in the guest lounge had made her forget that the entertainment was due to arrive.

‘Thanks for letting me know. It’s probably the flamenco troupe. I’m so glad they could make it, though I suspect we’re going to have to put them up for the night. Can we talk a bit later? I want to do what I can to make your stay as comfortable as possible.’

‘Maybe tomorrow. I’m sure you’ve enough to worry about now. I’m going back to the lounge. Now that I’m here, I don’t intend to miss out on the fun, so it’s best to put it to one side for the time being—’

‘If you’re sure,’ Sophie said, wondering what Suzanne would have to say to the others.

Suzanne had stopped mid-sentence, fumbled for a tissue from 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 half a 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 several tales 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.

‘Well, we do have a guest lounge and dining room, but the guests are in there now and we’re actually expecting a flamenco troupe to turn up.’

‘Flamenco?’ Pete echoed. ‘That’s random for Christmas Eve.’

‘Yes, we’re having an alternative Christmas here. All of the guests have come here to escape from the traditional arrangements.’

Pete exchanged a glance with his wife. ‘Oh.’

‘I know it sounds weird, but you’d be surprised how many people want to avoid the traditional festive season, for all kinds of reasons. Now would you like to come through to my flat? I have to warn you that I do have two cats, but I’ll move them into the office. I’ll need to change the bed too, but get yourselves warm.’

‘We can do that, if you can give us some linen,’ Pete said. ‘I won’t hear of you doing it. We don’t mind cats.’

‘OK,’ Sophie replied, not being in a position to refuse help, with the paying guests to look after. ‘I’ll show you my kitchen too, so you can make yourselves a hot drink. There’s toast and hot chocolate, or you can join the other guests.’

‘This is incredibly kind of you and we’ll pay the going rate,’ Anna said, wincing. ‘I’m ready to have a lie-down myself. My bump has been kicking off like Lionel Messi.’

Sophie walked through the office into her sitting room, where Jingle and Belle had taken up residence on the window seat.

‘Cats!’ Maria cried. ‘What are they called?’

Sophie prepared herself. ‘The black-and-white boy with the tuxedo is Jingle and the little tortie is Belle,’ she said softly.

‘Jingle Bells! I sang that in the play at school,’ Baxter said proudly.

‘You did, and beautifully,’ Anna agreed.

‘Can I play with the cats?’

‘They’re quite shy,’ Sophie said, always nervous when strangers – especially children – wanted to stroke her cats. ‘We’ll meet them tomorrow. You can help me give them treats.’

‘Thank you,’ Anna mouthed over the children’s heads.

‘Let’s have a hot drink and you two can go to bed,’ Pete added.

‘There’s only a double,’ Sophie said. ‘I’ll take the sofa in my sitting room. Look, I haven’t tidied up at all. It’s a real mess, I’m afraid. All the effort goes into the guest areas.’

‘Please don’t worry. We’re just incredibly grateful to be safe and warm,’ Anna replied as Sophie cringed at the state of her room. Her bed hadn’t been made, there were clothes piled all over the place, and a bra and some knickers were drying on the radiator.

‘It’s so generous of you,’ Pete said. ‘I’ll sleep on the floor and the kids can share with Anna, though I still feel bad about you sleeping on a sofa.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Sophie commented. ‘So I’ll fetch the linen and some towels. You’ll find a little shower room off the bedroom.’

Anna held out her arms. ‘I’d hug you, if my bump wouldn’t get in the way,’ she said, adding in a whisper, ‘I didn’t tell the kids of course, but I seriously thought we might be stuck in the car all night and found frozen in the morning.’

‘I’m glad you knocked on the door!’ Sophie replied, horrified at the very idea of the family spending a night in their car. ‘I’ll fetch the spare linen and let you settle in.’

Jingle and Belle stayed on the window seat, keeping a wary distance from the strange and noisy visitors. As long as the bedroom door was kept closed, they wouldn’t be able to get inside and lie on her bed, as they sometimes did in cold weather. Sophie didn’t want any of the Nowaks to wake up with a mog on their faces.

After delivering the linen, she went back to the kitchen and started to heat up a fresh batch of tapas. Now she didn’t even have a private haven to retreat to in her own home. She returned her attention to whipping the mascarpone and cream for the pavlova. Midway to dolloping it on the meringue base, a call came through on her phone.

Of course it was the flamenco troupe. They’d tried their very best to make it, but it had taken an hour to get two miles from their base near Kendal. The snow wasn’t abating and so, reluctantly, they’d had to return. They’d tried to call earlier, but the signal had been poor because of the weather and the hills.

Sophie wasn’t surprised and didn’t want anyone to risk themselves in this weather. Plus, on a practical level, if they had turned up and – very likely – became stuck, she was running out of room and didn’t have a stable in which to put up any more unexpected guests.

She only hoped her paying guests would be understanding, and not too disappointed. She couldn’t help but feel she’d been a bad host tonight and had let everyone down. Hopefully Nico had carried on making the extra-strength cocktails for everyone to share. And after the way her evening had panned out, she wished she could have one too.

She returned to the guest lounge with a large platter of spinach tortilla and Padrón peppers. Suzanne was sitting in the window seat and the cat blanket had slipped down the side of the chair, so this was Sophie’s chance to move it discreetly out of the way.

‘Hello, everyone!’ she said in her cheeriest voice. ‘I’m afraid you won’t be surprised to hear that the flamenco group can’t make it. Hardly a surprise, given the weather, but still, I’m sorry to disappoint.’

‘Probably for the best. It looks as if we’re snowed in,’ Nico replied and there were other murmurs of agreement.

‘How is the family doing?’ Agatha asked.

Word had obviously got round.

‘They’re fine. I’ve given them my room.’

‘That’s very generous of you,’ Nico said, looking intensely at her.

‘It’s fine – I have a very comfortable sofa. Now I was saving the quiz for tomorrow, but perhaps we can do it now?’

She was met with less enthusiasm than she’d expected.

‘We could …’ Una said quietly, ‘though I was rather looking forward to watching the dancing. It’s such a shame the troupe couldn’t get through.’

‘Can’t be helped,’ Agatha replied. ‘But I know what you mean. A quiz feels rather a comedown, compared to the allure of a handsome Spaniard in Cuban heels shaking his maracas.’

Sophie slid a suspicious glance at Nico, wondering what on earth he’d put in the sangria while she wasn’t looking.

‘Well …’ Hugo began, exchanging a knowing look with his wife, ‘we could suggest an alternative.’

‘As long as it doesn’t involve us all throwing our car keys in a fruit bowl.’

Everyone under fifty looked nonplussed, apart from Una, who turned bright red and squeaked, ‘Certainly not! I was thinking that Hugo and I could teach you all a bit of dancing. We can’t flamenco, but we did win the Stratford Stompers Veterans’ Salsa contest last year.’

‘Salsa?’ Nico grinned. ‘That sounds very … exotic. I’m happy to partner up,’ he said, looking at Sophie again.

‘It’s divine! Do any of you have dance experience?’ Una asked.

‘Not of the salsa. Ron and I used to enjoy a bit of disco in our youth,’ Agatha piped up.

‘How about you, Suzanne?’ Hugo asked. ‘Can you dance?’

‘Mum made me and my sister go to ballet lessons, but I wasn’t keen,’ Suzanne said disdainfully. ‘I wanted to do street instead, but she wouldn’t let me.’

‘You’d still have a sense of musicality, though,’ Una said reassuringly. ‘Amber?’

Everyone looked towards the doorway, where Amber had materialised. She didn’t answer for a moment, then she murmured, ‘I did ballet lessons too.’ She shot a glance at Suzanne. ‘ I loved it …’

Sophie realised that Amber must have been there long enough to overhear and now shot her own barb at her half-sister.

‘That’s excellent!’ Hugo declared and turned to Nico, ‘Nico? What about you?’

He jokingly held up his hands in surrender. ‘I have two left feet.’

‘I’m sure you’d be brilliant,’ Una encouraged him. ‘We can teach everyone the basics.’

All eyes turned to Sophie, like a pack of dogs about to be fed. ‘What about you?’ Nico asked.

‘M-me?’ she hesitated. ‘I can’t dance, either. Last time I did anything to music was in a club years ago, before I met …’ she was about to say ‘Ben’, but stopped, ‘when I was younger. I don’t think that counts as dancing.

‘Everything counts,’ Hugo said. ‘Now, all we need is some music. Let’s create a space in here and we’ll show you some easy steps.’

Half an hour later everyone was hot, sweaty and in fits of giggles. The Gipsy Kings were blasting out, and all of them got to know each other better as they kept changing partners, although Suzanne and Amber had managed to avoid dancing with each other.

Una beckoned Sophie. ‘Do come and join in.’

She shook her head. ‘I can’t dance. I definitely can’t do a salsa,’ she went on, trying to sound breezy about it, but dreading the thought of having to join in. ‘And I need to look after my guests – fetch the drinks and more tapas.’

‘Pssht!’ Agatha said. ‘We can do that. I’ll look after the bar.’

‘ I’ll look after the bar,’ Amber said from the corner. ‘I did bar work when I was a student. I needed the money,’ she continued pointedly.

‘I had a part-time job too. In a newsagent’s,’ Suzanne shot back. ‘We weren’t well off, either.’

‘It’s lovely to see you came down,’ Sophie said, cutting off a potential source of conflict.

‘Well, I heard the music and smelled the delicious food,’ Amber replied. ‘And I wanted to do my bit and help.’

‘Thank you, Amber,’ Sophie said gratefully. ‘Thank you both, but I couldn’t possibly allow my guests to do all the work while I make an idiot of myself.’

‘Why not?’ responded Nico, sweeping Sophie into his arms without warning. She was so surprised that her breath was taken away. ‘You’re our host!’ He twirled her round so fast she let out a gasp of shock. ‘It’s your job to entertain us!’

Sophie found herself bent over backwards, supported by his strong arms. She thought she was going to fall over and let out a little shriek, but Nico pulled her upright just in time.

‘Bravo!’

‘Encore!’ Una whooped.

Applause and delighted laughter broke out from the other guests. Even Amber seemed to be smiling.

‘So you don’t have two left feet then …’ Suzanne observed to Nico.

‘My mother made me go to Latin classes for a while when I was a teenager. If I’d mentioned that, I’m afraid you’d all have had inflated expectations of my ability. I couldn’t handle the pressure.’ Nico’s eyes twinkled.

‘You’re a dark horse, that’s for sure,’ Agatha remarked, scrutinising him while Sophie caught her breath after literally being swept off her feet.

‘That really was wicked of me,’ Nico said to her. ‘I suppose I should apologise.’

Sophie felt herself blush. ‘There’s no need. Everyone seems to have enjoyed it.’

‘But did you enjoy it?’ Somehow he made a simple question sound quite indecent.

‘It was – er – exhilarating.’

‘That’s a word for it!’ Agatha declared, chortling.

‘You must at least have a go at learning the salsa,’ Una said to Sophie. ‘You’ve been working so hard to look after us.’

‘You’re paying me to do that,’ Sophie said, only half joking.

‘Oh, let your hair down for once!’ Agatha declared. ‘We’ll muck in with the food and booze. Now let’s get the real party started.’

Sophie laughed and decided that Agatha was right. They should all let loose and celebrate in their own way. Somehow her guests had also become co-hosts and were taking matters out of her hands.

She was partnered up with Hugo for her first lesson. Nico was with Suzanne. Una with Agatha. Amber had gone to the bar to mix another jug of sangria. The music had been turned up louder, the beat of the salsa drowning out the wind howling outside.

Somehow, despite nothing really going to plan, Sophie had got exactly what she wanted: laughter and dancing, a family rescued from the snow and guests getting on like a house on fire (apart from the minor glitch of two warring siblings).

That was way more than she could have hoped for when she’d first posted the ad a few months ago, or when her year had started. She might be hurt over what had happened with Brody, but she knew she needed to remember quite how far she’d come this year.