Nell set to work but stopped when Harry walked in, his hands in his pockets. A cream sweater ran ever so nicely over his broad torso. She felt her breath hitch a little with the force of his presence. After last night’s dinner, she’d been confused at how the evening had gone, but she’d put it down to tiredness sapping her good mood. She needed to let the Christmas spirit fill her with excitement, just as it normally did.
‘What’s going on here then?’
‘I’ve got the Welcome to Christmas carol service tonight by the local primary school.’
‘That sounds fun. And what is that smell? It definitely smells like Christmas in here.’
Nell glanced up from her present wrapping workstation in the lounge. ‘Mrs Meggett’s been making mince pies and gingerbread men for after the service. It does smell good, doesn’t it?’
‘Reminds me of home,’ Harry replied wistfully, sitting next to Nell on one of the few remaining armchairs in the lounge. His trouser leg rode up a little revealing a hint of athletic calf. Nell approved; she didn’t like men with skinny chicken legs.
‘Feeling homesick today?’
‘Yeah. I never told you last night, did I? I come from a big family. You know about my mom, but my dad moved to the States when they got divorced and as I went with him only coming back for holidays, I wanted to come back and be with her. But back home, we always have a big family Christmas with my stepmom. She has a large family.’
Last night, they’d chatted quite happily but she realised now that quite selfishly, the conversation had been focused on her and not him. She hadn’t asked as many questions as she wanted to and there was still so much to find out. ‘I bet you’ll be glad to get back at the end of the month in time to celebrate with them.’ She looked around for the scissors and Harry handed them to her, his fingers brushing hers.
Suddenly, he rose from the chair. ‘I’d better get going. I’ve got some things to do. Save me a mince pie, okay?’
‘I will.’ Nell watched him go as her imagination once again went into overdrive. Suddenly, on his last day with her, he was begging her to come to New York, to sell the hotel and build a life with him there. Or he was asking her to extend his stay while he set up an office here, oh, and by the way, he was madly in love with her. Lost in myriad scenes that would have made any romantic comedy Oscar winning, Nell felt the day speed by.
In between setting up the lounge and dining room and making trips to the kitchen, Nell made sure the room was ready for her new guests. With excitement she sprinkled rose petals over the duvet, placed a vase of red roses on the table, along with a box of chocolates and a bottle of prosecco. She even wrote them a little card welcoming them to the hotel, that she placed on the table in the room. Within minutes of returning to the dining room, her guests arrived. The young couple, who were extremely happy with their room, really appreciated the special touches she’d added. They were even happy about the carol concert that night, feeling it added to the charm rather than causing them any inconvenience. Nell promised to save them a gingerbread man each and left them to enjoy themselves hoping she’d get a good review to balance these strange bad ones.
Mrs Meggett left later that afternoon, tired but satisfied, her work done. The afternoon light turned from a clear whiteness to a pale, shimmer and darkness rapidly followed as Tom, her moral support for the night, arrived.
‘God rest ye merry gentleman, let nothing ye dismay,’ he sang in a great baritone voice.
Nell laughed. ‘I’m more of a ‘I Wish it Could be Christmas Everyday’ kind of girl.’ She did a little dance on the spot as she sang it.
‘I can’t wait for tonight,’ he said, taking off his coat and gloves. Suddenly he sucked in a breath like he’d hurt himself.
‘What?’ Nell asked, checking him over. Her eyes came to rest on his left hand. His index finger was wrapped tightly in a bandage. He must have caught it when he took his coat off. ‘What happened to your hand?’
‘I just nipped myself, it’s fine.’ He sang the next line of the Christmas carol. ‘So what do you need me for?’
Nell eyed the finger once more. It was an occupational hazard in his job, and he seemed so jolly she didn’t want to bring his mood down. If she was a florist, she’d probably have lost most of her fingers by now. ‘The choir are arriving at 6 p.m. for it all to kick off at 6.30 p.m. The head told me that people will start to arrive from 6 p.m. because they love to get there early. Can you help me with the tea urns? I’ve brought them up, but I need to fill them. If I fill them first, they’re too heavy to get up the stairs. I’ve labelled the one that’s for hot chocolate. We’ll put the mince pies out now and the gingerbread will go out after. I thought the kids could do a decorate-your-own kind of thing, so I’ve got everything in bowls to come out once the singing has finished.’
‘Any more mulled wine? I quite fancy a drink. I’ve come straight from work.’
‘No. Sorry.’ She watched Tom move around and could see the amount of pain he was in with his finger. Two things didn’t seem right. Firstly, Tom had had two accidents in the space of about a week and secondly, he was crazily cheerful. Unnaturally cheerful. The type of cheerful people put on when something was worrying them, and they wanted to convince the world
