Meet Me at Fir Tree Lodge

the competitions that ran here. This year though, it was going to be different. The organisers, Ski Scene Scream, had really topped themselves, bagging a huge sponsor, Bowness Whisky, who were launching their signature line of new drinks, headed by the mint-flavoured gin they were launching as part of the event. It was a pretty impressive label, and the company had lots of clout. It was going to be big, and to mark the event, they were launching a new competition: the Ultimate Alpine Ski Challenge, sponsored by Alpine Gins. She’d read up on them obviously, studied the companies and their competition rules and regulations, if only to know what sort of people were going to be rocking up to her mountain café. She wasn’t the most social person these days, and she had the added pressure of having people to avoid. Plus, now a random Yorkshire man in her spare room.

All day, Luke had been in the café. He’d installed himself right in the corner, near the windows at the front, directly next to her favourite counter. She liked to work there in the afternoon, so she could see out of the windows without being noticed herself, chat to the regulars who came in, and now she had her lodger displayed in her window. He’d been clacking away on his laptop, taking phone calls outside, walking left and right, outside the window. She spent half the day working, and the other half stalking him. What? Watching! I mean, watching him. At one point, he even took a selfie with the mountain. Who does that? She wondered where he had uploaded it to. Who he might have sent it to. She was still on social media herself, she just didn’t update any of her profiles. Ever. She was an occasional lurker. She would have deleted them all entirely, but she did like to check in on people from time to time. She almost always regretted it, but that was how regrets worked in the first place.

In between calls and frantic tip-tapping on the laptop, he’d eaten half the menu. He followed his croissant with a bacon sandwich, a large coffee, and then started tasting some of her other baked goods. She found herself wondering how much money he would take to feed, before she realised that it wasn’t her problem. She would feed him in here, for cash, but upstairs he was on his own. If he so much as breathed near her Rocky Road, it was his funeral.

*

Half an hour till closing time, and Rebecca was tired. She started to put things away, clearing the dirty tables and setting things up for the morning. She was almost done when she noticed Luke had his camera phone going. He was aiming at her glass cabinet. She cleared the final table in a hurry, putting the things into the kitchen and getting her cleaning supplies out to #hinch the cafe. Yep, social media lurker. I like to have things clean and squared away, so I can sleep easy. This café is my oasis. If it does well, so do I. Some ding-a-ling taking photos in here doesn’t sit right.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked him finally, when she couldn’t stand holding the question back another moment. Spraying one of the vacant chairs with cleaning spray, enjoying the hit of pine fresh smell it created, she looked at him for an answer. He snapped another photo, and she felt her fists tighten around the cloth. ‘Luke?’

He looked across at her, a shy little smile on his face.

‘I wanted to photograph some of your stuff, it looks so good. Do you make all your own recipes, or do you use other people’s?’

She shook her head before she answered. The cheek of it!

‘No, I use the basic recipes but then tweak them. I like to add my own ideas.’

He nodded at her, looking right at her. She could almost feel him, but she kept working, not wanting him to linger too much. I have to share my lodge with him, and I can’t even stand in the same café as him without feeling annoyed that he’s here. Asking me questions.

To make it even more awkward, the last customer waved goodbye and left. Closing time. Just the two of them. For the whole night. Alone. Rebecca gulped at the prospect and faffed with some napkins in a dispenser.

‘But where did you study?’ he persisted, as she headed over to the front door and locked up for the evening.

‘I studied here, Hans taught me.’

She could feel him again, watching her movements, and she turned her body to face him. Hand on hip, she stared right back at him. His eyes narrowed a little.

‘I know you.’

Shit. She hadn’t expected him to say that.

‘What’s your name again? Atkins, right?’

She looked back at him, nodding slowly. Hans had used her real name. He usually left it out, or used the code word. Dammit. He must trust Luke. Did he … did he know? Rebecca felt like her jaw had locked shut.

‘Yep. You finished?’ She tried her ‘leave it’ look on him, but he just frowned, making his glasses move further up his big nose. Well, it wasn’t big exactly, more button-like. It wasn’t a bad nose, it just seemed to like inserting itself into things that were none of its beeswax.

‘You okay? You got a headache or something?’ She raised her brows in his direction.

‘No,’ he said after a moment, before looking away. ‘I’ll let you get on.’

Moment gone. Thank Christ for that. She put her face straight and started putting the chairs up on the tables. He followed her lead without being asked and started putting them up with her. The two of them worked in silence, till the only table left was the one where his stuff was still laid out. He muttered ‘terribly sorry’ in a faux posh tone under his breath, starting to put things away, chucking pens into a case he produced from his