‘There we are,’ said Liv feeling a little vindicated. At least that explained why Fraser was frequently having a dig about the English and generally off with her. And now Liv was starting to make other connections. Was this why he’d ghosted her? Was it some sort of revenge plot on English girls? Maybe she wasn’t the only one. That would explain why he didn’t remember her. Or perhaps he didn’t remember her because she wasn’t that memorable and didn’t look like Blake Lively, but she couldn’t help that.
‘Don’t take it personally,’ said Effie. ‘Fraser doesn’t mean to be bad-mannered. He’s really kind.’ Effie lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘I think you remind him of Fiona Smith.’
‘And what was she like?’ asked Liv.
‘Terrible fringe and very shiny shoes.’
‘Ri-ight.’ Liv decided to change the subject. ‘What’s with the box?’
‘Christmas decorations! I thought it would cheer the old place up and get us all feeling festive, and then everyone will be less crabbit, that means grumpy.’
‘Good idea,’ said Liv although she wasn’t as sure as Effie that a few bits of tinsel would be enough.
They spent an hour arranging bits of the foliage they had gathered, entwining them with the strands of fairy lights that they could get to work. They hung a piece of mistletoe from the chandelier and some other sprigs all around the hotel as there was quite a lot of it. When Liv came back into the library, Effie had a string of tartan bunting draped around her neck and she was adjusting the mistletoe. ‘I guess only Aaron and Kacey will make good use of that,’ said Liv with a little sigh.
‘We’ll all benefit from the mistletoe,’ said Effie sounding extra earnest and making Liv wonder what sort of party games they played in these parts.
‘I’m not kissing anyone this Christmas,’ said Liv. The statement pulled her up short. Sure Christmas was a time for kids and families, but it was also special if you were in a relationship. There was something about being with someone at this time of year that made it feel extra special. Perhaps it was because each Christmas was a milestone; a marker in life that she pinned things to. And this would be the year she was on her own, double ghosted and most likely having Christmas dinner with her mum and sister. She loved her family with all her heart and would always want to be with them at Christmas, but how nice to have someone else to share that with too. Cuddling up with them to watch a soppy film and eat too many chocolates with and open thoughtful gifts you’d got each other.
She realised Effie was watching her closely. Maudlin wasn’t going to do her any good. ‘How will we all benefit from the mistletoe?’ she asked. If the answer was some sort of orgy then she was going to dig her way out with her bare hands if she had to.
‘The ancient Celts gathered mistletoe to ward off evil spirits and bring good luck,’ said Effie.
Liv was much relieved. ‘That’s good then. Might keep Janet away. Perhaps the holly will ward off pricks,’ she said with a smile.
‘Holly brings peace and fertility,’ said Effie.
‘Yeah that too. Why do people kiss under mistletoe and not holly then?’ she asked.
‘Because a couple of centuries ago someone decided a man could kiss any woman he liked if it was under the mistletoe and it was bad luck for her to refuse.’
‘I might have known it would have something to do with some chancer.’ Liv shook her head.
‘It’s kind of nice if someone wants to kiss you though,’ said Effie looking out of the window dreamily.
Liv took hold of the end of the tartan bunting they’d been pinning into the picture rail, got onto the chair and reached up.
‘Is this a Scottish tradition?’ asked Liv shoving a drawing pin into the end of the bunting with a sore thumb.
‘My great-grandmother, Ailsa, made it from soldiers’ kilts. When they came home from World War Two they handed in all their kit in exchange for a new suit. A lot of the clothes were good for nothing but rags, but the kilt is a hardwearing material so a lot of those could be used again. Those that couldn’t went to the needy. Ailsa made some of them into clothes for children because there was still rationing, and the bits that were left over she made into bunting.’
Liv looked at it afresh. It was all one type of tartan: navy and dark green with a yellow thread running through it. The thought that every piece had seen military service made it quite a piece of history. ‘The tartan is pretty. Is it all from one regiment?’
‘The Gordon Highlanders,’ said Dolly proudly as she entered the room and put down a mug.
‘It’s lovely. I like the colours. I noticed the curtains in my room are the same.’
Effie gasped and stood up very straight. ‘They are not,’ she said jutting her chin out.
‘It’s blue and green,’ said Liv.
‘The curtains are clan Campbell,’ explained Dolly. ‘The red and green tartan in the entrance lobby is Robertson, and the black and white with a thin red thread is Macpherson.’
Liv got the feeling she’d uttered something akin to blasphemy. ‘Sorry,’ she ventured.
‘We take our history and traditions seriously,’ said Dolly.
‘I’m learning that. No offence meant.’
