The Reluctant Elf (Kindle Single) (2 page)

‘We’re going to Glan Clwyd hospital, please.’

He pulls out from the station like he’s fleeing the scene. We bomb up the quiet road and careen around the corner.

‘You can slow down a little. It’s not an emergency.’

I turn to Mabel. ‘Here, check that your seatbelt is on tightly.’

But his motoring skills don’t improve as we hurtle along the rural two-lane road, sandwiched between the sea and sheep-filled fields. If this is the standard of road safety around here I’m not surprised Aunt Kate crashed her car.

My heart races when the hospital comes into view fifteen minutes later. What if we get to the desk and the nurse looks at us with pity as she works out how to tell us that we’re too late?

No, I won’t think like that. For Mabel’s sake I have to stay positive, even if my insides are liquefying with fear.

‘We’re here to see Kate Crisp, please,’ I tell the plump, pleasant-looking woman at the reception desk. ‘She’s in Intensive Care.’

This feels like a shameful admission.

She taps her keyboard. ‘Just down that corridor, love. Now what you do is go through the double doors on your left. The nurse inside can take you straight to her.’

‘Oh, okay, that’s brilliant, thank you!’ I find myself smiling. She’s got the type of positive bedside manner that could make you look forward to having your leg amputated.

When we get to the Intensive Care desk the young nurse says, ‘You’re looking for Ms Crisp? She’s right this way.’ As if we’re just meeting her for lunch.

We follow her down another short corridor.

‘Please clean your hands whenever you go into the room.’

I gesture for Mabel to hold her palms under the liquid disinfectant.

‘It stinks.’

‘I know it does, but it kills the germs.’

‘Does it smother them?’

‘Something like that.’

Aunt Kate has the room to herself. She’s in the bed closest to the door, with a mask over her face and tubes running from her arms.

‘Is she dead?’ Mabel whispers.

I shake my head, not trusting my voice. Her face is swollen and her forehead has turned a nasty shade of purple. There’s a stitched-up laceration over her eye. ‘She’s just sleeping.’

‘I’ll see if the doctor is free,’ the nurse says, hurrying out.

I go to my aunt and gently touch her hand. ‘I’m here, Aunt Kate. Mabel and I are here.’

‘Can she hear you?’

‘I’m not sure, but I think so. Do you want to talk to her? I’m sure she’d love to hear you.’

She nods and shuffles very close to the bed.

‘Hi Aunt Kate, it’s me, Mabel. You’ll probably know it’s me even with your eyes closed because of my voice. We had a nice journey on the train. We had regular seats but then because there weren’t many people on, we moved to a table. Mummy said it was better for her computer but then she forgot her computer and she swore. Not the F word, though, just the S word. I still told her that ladies don’t swear. That’s right, isn’t it Mummy?’

‘That’s right, I shouldn’t have said that.’

A fifty-something woman joins us as Mabel continues to talk to Aunt Kate as though they’re chatting over tea and cake.

Dr Lonergan smiles as she introduces herself. She takes Aunt Kate’s chart from the end of the bed and then gestures outside.

‘I’ll just be out here, Mabel. I bet Aunt Kate would love to hear about your Christmas pageant.’

‘She’s in a coma?’ I ask Dr Lonergan under the bright corridor lights.

‘Yes, a medically induced coma. There’s a lot of swelling around her brain so we want to help it heal by eliminating any non-essential functions.’

‘So it’s not a coma like the ones where you don’t know if she’s going to wake up?’

Dr Lonergan shakes her head. ‘We’ve administered drugs to induce it, so once we remove the drugs, she’ll wake up.’

‘When will you do that?’

‘Not until the swelling has gone down in her brain. There may not be brain damage but we won’t know for sure until the swelling subsides. That could take a few days or a few weeks. We’re monitoring her closely and, as you can see, she’s on a respirator to help her breathe.’

‘So she’s going to be okay?’

‘She was very lucky she was wearing her seatbelt. As was the other passenger, but the other car impacted on your Aunt’s side, which is why she sustained more serious injuries. She’s also got a broken tibia – her leg – which we’ve set. That should heal within six to eight weeks and then she can have the cast removed. Do you have any more questions?’

‘No. Yes. You said there was a passenger? Who was it?’

She glances at her paperwork. ‘A Ms Evans was also involved in the accident.’

Ms Evans? I think she’s Aunt Kate’s cook, though she usually called her by her job description. ‘And she’s all right?’

‘She fractured her arm but she was treated and discharged. I believe she’s staying with her niece over in Dyserth. Do you know it?’

‘No, I’m not from around here.’ As if that isn’t obvious from my London accent. ‘Do you have her phone number?’

‘I’ll have the nurse get it for you when you leave. The visiting hours in Intensive Care are from five o’clock till seven each evening. You can stay today because you’ve just arrived and there’s no one else in with your aunt. Will you be coming back tomorrow?’

Yes, I tell her, and every day until Aunt Kate is well again. There’s no way I’ll leave her. Mabel and I will be spending Christmas in Wales.

‘Please leave your contact details with reception,’ says Dr Lonergan. ‘And will you be staying at her house?’

‘Yes. We’ll be there if you need us. Oh. I haven’t got keys.’

‘Everything she had in the car is in the cabinet by her bed. If her keys are there, feel free to take them with you.’

‘Thank you. Can I go back in to her now?’

‘Of course. I’m sorry this happened so close to Christmas,’ she says from the doorway. ‘This probably isn’t how you thought you’d be spending the holiday.’

Definitely not. Then I remember why Aunt Kate couldn’t come to London this year.

The reviewer and his family don’t know about the accident. They’ll still arrive on the 24th expecting a Christmas holiday.

I lean down to kiss Aunt Kate’s cool cheek.

‘You don’t have to worry about anything, Aunt Kate, just concentrate on getting well. I’ll take good care of the B&B until you’re fit again, I promise.’

When the reception nurse gives me the phone number where Cook is staying I ring it straightaway. I’m going to need a lot of help over the coming week.

‘Hello, is that Ms Evans?’

‘No, it’s her niece Bronwyn. Who’s this?’

I remember that Bronwyn is Aunt Kate’s cleaner. Perfect. I’ll need her help too. She listens as I explain who I am.

‘What do you want?’

She sounds angry. Surely she isn’t blaming me or Aunt Kate for what happened?

‘Well, I wondered when your aunt will be able to come back to work.’

‘Probably in the new year,’ she says.

‘The new year! But we need her now! I understand that she’s recovering from the accident, and maybe she can’t cook easily with a broken arm, but I was hoping…’

‘It’s impossible. We’re leaving tomorrow morning,’ she says. ‘We’re going to Spain to recuperate.’

‘What, both of you? But you’re the housekeeper and you weren’t even in the accident. Aren’t you coming to work either?’

‘No, as I said, we’re going to Spain. You can’t expect me to send my poorly auntie on her own.’

‘But who’s going to clean the B&B while you’re gone?’

‘I didn’t know I’d be needed, did I? With Kate in hospital, I didn’t think there’d be any work for me anyway. I’ve got to go. Auntie is waiting for her lunch.’

‘Wait, please, wait,’ you skiving little cow, I don’t say. ‘If your aunt can’t come to work, could she at least tell me what I need to know about the place? I’ve never even been there.’

‘She’s not up to talking right now.’

‘Could she, I don’t know, email me or fax the B&B or something with some instructions? Here’s my email address.’

I’m not convinced she’s writing anything down.

‘Please. I have no idea what I’m doing. Can you please ask her to at least do that before you leave?’

She sighs. ‘I’ll ask her, but we’re very busy. We have to pack and EasyJet charges a fortune for checked bags. I don’t know how we’re going to get everything into carry-ons.’

I’ll take their luggage concerns over singlehandedly hosting a critic and his family any day.

It’s still raining when we leave the hospital. I should have asked reception to call us a taxi.

‘Here, button up, Mabel, so you don’t catch a cold.’

A car pulls up and the door opens.

‘You again?’ I say to the taxi driver who dropped us off.

‘I waited.’

‘We went in over an hour ago. You didn’t need to wait.’

‘You’re probably my only fare for the day,’ he says. ‘Are you going back to the train station?’

‘No, to my Aunt’s B&B.’

I read him the address from the letter Aunt Kate sent with directions for our arrival.

Again he corrects my pronunciation.

‘Mummy, we’re staying at Aunt Kate’s when she’s not there?’

‘Yes, because we’ll want to see her every day until she’s well, won’t we? And we can make the house look lovely for when she comes home.’

We don’t have any alternative. In three days a houseful of guests will arrive. Someone has to be there to welcome them or Aunt Kate won’t have a business to come home to.

Granted, I’m not the most domesticated of goddesses, but I’ll do my best. The B&B should impress the reviewer on looks alone. Even though I’ve never seen it, thanks to Aunt Kate’s descriptions over the years I can picture it as clearly as if I lived there. Its grand two story Victorian façade, formal parlour and library, large hall and dining room will be the perfect backdrop for Christmas. There’ll be cosy evenings playing board games in front of the roaring fire or snuggled up with a book on one of the embroidered sofas. If the sun shines during the day then the guests can relax in the conservatory that looks out to the hills. It sounds like heaven. The rating will just be a formality, really.

Besides, it’s not like I have any idea how to get in touch with the guests to explain what’s happened anyway.

Like it or not, I’m about to become a B&B hostess.

Chapter Three

I have to tell the taxi driver again to slow down. He seems to have little working knowledge of his brake pedal and keeps swerving over the centre line. But after thirty fraught minutes, we turn into a steep drive.

‘Are you sure this is the address? It doesn’t look right.’

The winter-bare trees have shed many of their branches, which the taxi’s wheels crunch over as we pull into the circular drive. And the house is, well…

He takes Aunt Kate’s letter from me again.

‘Yes, this is it. I’ll get your bags.’

I know I should get out and help him, but I’m rooted to the back seat.

The house is completely derelict. The once-white stucco and mock-Tudor façade is streaked and stained with neglect. The elements have bowed and bloated the window sills.

Speaking of the elements, the attic is exposed to them. One corner of the steeply gabled roof is tile-free. The wooden joists poke out like badly broken bones.

I just can’t reconcile what I’m seeing with Aunt Kate’s descriptions of her dreamy gingerbread house in the woods. This isn’t a dream house. It’s a nightmare.

‘This place is a dump!’

I begin to sob as the enormity of what I’ve promised Aunt Kate sinks in. That reviewer and his whole family will arrive,
to this
, in less than seventy-two hours.

‘Mummy, is it haunted?’

Mabel, usually the first one to want to explore, holds my hand tightly.

It’s certainly haunted by the ghosts of Aunt Kate’s failed dreams. How could I have let her live in a place like this for all these years? I should have come up long before this.

‘I’m sure it’s not haunted, sugarpea. After all, it’s Aunt Kate’s home.’

‘Then why are you crying?’

‘Oh, I’m being silly. It’s just that there’s a lot to do before Aunt Kate’s guests arrive.’

The driver opens my door. ‘Is everything all right?’

His deep brown eyes are full of concern. Or maybe he thinks I can’t pay his fare.

My legs shake as I stand up. ‘Not really, no. In fact it’s about as far from all right as I can imagine. We’ve got paying guests coming for Christmas in three days and the cook and housekeeper are buggering off to Spain. I’m all alone here.’

‘Oh, well, Bronwyn has always wanted to go to the Costa del Sol.’

‘Well I’m glad she’ll finally get to work on her tan, but where does that leave me? I can’t run this whole place by myself. I have no idea what I’m doing. And look at it.’

Tears fill my eyes again. It’s hopeless. I can’t even cook.

The look of pity on the driver’s kind face gives me an idea.

‘Can
you
cook?’ I ask.

His expression turns from pity to suspicion. ‘Why?’

‘Because if you can, I’ll give you £1,000 cash to help me for the next few days. Until the 26th when the guests leave.’

‘Well I can’t really-’

‘Please! I don’t know what else to do. My aunt is in a coma. That’s why we were at the hospital. And it’s too late now to cancel the guests’ stay. Not that I’d even know how to get in touch with them. So they’re coming, and it’s a reviewer and his family. Aunt Kate scheduled them because she needs a star rating or the bank will force her to sell the B&B. This is her whole life. Do you know my aunt?’

He shakes his head, rubbing the dark stubble that peppers his chin. ‘I only know Bronwyn because we were at school together. A thousand quid you said? Cash?’

‘Yes, and I’ll even give you half today and half on the 26th. I’d need you to cook and help me get the place fixed up before they come. Well, basically I’ll need you to do whatever you can to help. Is it a deal?’

I pray he’ll say yes. Otherwise Mabel is going to have to pick up some carpentry skills pretty quickly.

He puts his hand out and envelops mine in its warmth. ‘Deal. I’ll drive you to the cash machine back in Rhyl. I’m Danny. What’s your name?’