She didn’t tell him she’d spent ages this morning choosing some speciality liquor chocolates or that she’d brought a small bunch of red roses from the supermarket for the room (as well as grabbing those mince pies). Mr Scrooge rubbed himself against Nell’s legs and she reached down, stroking his fur, which was warmed by the fire. It was becoming less and less coarse the more he came in. She really was developing a soft spot for him. ‘Right, I’d better get this tree decorated. I’ve got the knit and natter group this afternoon and then Cat and I are meeting her caterer this evening.’
‘Is Brenda coming?’
‘No, thank God. She’s got bridge with some women from the WI. Cat deliberately booked the meeting for when Brenda was busy and hasn’t even told her about it.’
‘What?’ Tom feigned disbelief. ‘You lied to the terrifying Brenda Wilson?’
‘I didn’t.’ Nell confirmed with a cheeky grin. ‘Cat did.’
Chapter 7
The fire burned in the grate and the smell of cinnamon and apple from Tom’s fancy twig display filled the room.
‘That was thoughtful of Tom,’ Cat said, pointing to the wonderful display he’d made then settling back into the armchair she always chose. Mr Scrooge, who had left shortly after Nadia and Manley, had come back in some time ago and after eating an entire tin of tuna, had curled up on the windowsill. From the way he had devoured it, the poor stray was definitely getting better. Nell was so used to having him around, he was becoming like part of the furniture.
‘It was. I don’t think I know anyone as kind and caring as him.’
‘Hey! I’m kind and caring.’
‘You are indeed,’ Nell confirmed. ‘But I mean, a guy who’s kind and caring. You also have a no-nonsense scary side.’
‘That’s the midwife in me. Sometimes you have to take charge to stop people panicking or getting overwhelmed by it all.’
Cat was sitting with a pink gin and tonic while Nell nursed a hot chocolate. They were the only things to warm her up on cold winter nights like this. While she sipped, enjoying the rich chocolatey taste, she brought Cat up to date on her eventful few days: the dinner disaster at the Langdon Mansion Hotel, the lovely time she’d had with Tom afterwards as they walked back with their fish and chips, laughing at the ridiculous menu, and the spider-soup video ending up on HotelRater. She even managed a quick rundown of nodding Nadia and man-bun Manley who had tried to sell her a marketing plan based on NASA.
‘Wowzers,’ Cat said, after sipping her drink. ‘At least it wasn’t the other way around and someone found a fly in their breakfast here or something.’ Nell gaped at Cat because the very thought was enough to turn her stomach. If something like that happened, she’d be mortified and certainly wouldn’t automatically blame the customer. The thought that she’d have to have words with the formidable Mrs Meggett was beyond terrifying.
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Nell replied. But even though the marketing meeting had been a complete waste of time, there had been one good point in the afternoon that followed.
Nell had finished the tree, placing the last tiny wooden decoration on it, as the knit and natter group made themselves comfortable in the lounge. She loved the knit and natter group and the way it brought different generations of women together. They’d been coming to the hotel since her mum and dad had owned it and Nell loved the feeling that Holly Lodge was a part of the community. She knew what they all had to drink and had prepared the trays with some festive biscuits she’d bought from the posh baker’s in town. Some of the ladies were older and able to knit without looking at their hands, chatting away without dropping a stitch. Some of the younger ones enjoyed the chance to absorb the older women’s knowledge as they discussed their children’s ailments or difficulties in their love lives. More than once Nell had been on the receiving end of their advice when it came to men, even if she never asked for it.
When they’d settled, one of the grandmothers had mentioned something very interesting. The local primary school normally held its annual festive carol service in the school hall, but the roof was leaking and needed some urgent repairs. According to her, St Herbert’s was searching for a new venue that wasn’t going to cost them any money to hire, otherwise they’d have to cancel, and the children were heartbroken at the possibility. Nell had immediately been struck with what she’d thought at the time was a good idea and was eager to tell Cat all about it.
‘The knit and natter group said St Herbert’s Primary were looking for somewhere to hold their Welcome to Christmas service and I rang them and suggested here, and they said yes straight away! Isn’t that awesome? I can clear the dining room and open the door to the lounge. If Tom helps me bring school benches over in his van, I reckon I can get the singers in the lounge here’ – she gestured to where with her hands – ‘and have everyone seated out there in the dining room. It’s such a small school there’s only one class per year and that only has twenty kids. I’ve planned out all the space already. What do you think? I’m going to sell hot chocolates and mince pies and all kinds of Christmassy treats. I reckon it could really help with takings. I need to do everything I can to get money in while the bookings are low.’ Cat didn’t speak and Nell worried she thought it was just another of her flights of fancy.
Nell knew herself well enough to understand that her imaginative nature made her prone to thinking things would always work out and sometimes they didn’t. Like when she was a teenager
