She swallowed. She just had to be straight with her. She was needed at home. She had made a promise to her mum to be there for Christmas Day. She’d never asked anything of the companybefore and she had dropped everything to fly over here in the first place.
‘I really need to be home for Christmas, before preferably. My parents are going through something right now and I need to spend some time with them. I have taken loads of photos and videos of Saint-Chambéry, there’s a lot more to the village and its traditions than we could have realised, the little shop and café are run by Delphine who contacted you about my coming here and it’s so quirky and there’s this bar that does its own cider and there’s an ancient wheelbarrow and I’ve been ice fishing and I’ve fed foxes and?—’
‘Yourparentsare going through something?’ Frances had said the word ‘parents’ like the consonants and vowels were foul-tasting food stuff on her tongue.
‘Yes,’ Orla answered. ‘And I wouldn’t say something unless I believed it was crucial I go back.’
‘So, your parents are how old?’
Orla could already sense this was not going down well. And she knew Frances didn’t really want to know her mum and dad’s dates of birth.
‘Frances, I wouldn’t be asking this if it wasn’t really important to me.’
‘And why did your sister have to go to France with you again? Because couldn’t she have stayed at home and looked after yourageingparents?’
Orla sighed and tried not to take this personally. Frances had no empathy, and she didn’t even understand how it worked in others. ‘Erin is sixteen.’ And she knew what was coming next the second she’d said that.
‘At sixteen I was running my own car wash business.’
How many times had the staff heard about her entrepreneurial beginnings? Car washes, manicures, making clothes out of recyclables…
‘I know,’ Orla said. ‘But not everyone is as motivated and inspirational as you. Sadly.’
‘No,’ Frances said. ‘And it’s a shame to hear that coming from someone I thought I was going to write a recommendation forTimemagazine for.’
Wow. Orla bit the inside of her mouth and tried desperately to not show on her face how that dig had affected her. This was not a reflection on her professionalism. This was unfortunate timing, the like of which she had never had to face before. And she wasn’t going to let Frances insinuate that this was anything other than a difficult situation for her family and one her employer should have a bit more sympathy over.
‘It’s OK,’ Orla stated, firmly yet politely. ‘You don’t need to write me a recommendation for anything. So, I will book my flight back and if the reindeer doesn’t give birth before the gate closes at Grenoble then I will work with what I have so far and make the best article I can.’
‘I don’t want the “best article I can”! I want this reindeer, on video, pushing that whatever-the-baby-is-called out into the world in its full gory. I want this being served on “for you” pages the way they serve up people having their deep-rooted blackhead spots removed!’
Noble grunted and Orla didn’t disagree. This was turning into the kind of vulgar reporting she, thankfully, never got involved in.
‘Oh… Frances… I… you… losing… signal.’ Orla shook her phone around and dipped her head a little as she hid her lips, allowing her to make static noises.
‘What’s going on? Can you hear me? Orla!’
‘Sorry… I… don’t…’
With one extra loud noise of her scraping her boots hard on the floor of the barn, Orla cut the call and took a deep breath.OK, that could have gone better. But actually, it could also have gone worse so she was taking it as a win.
She rubbed Noble’s fur, taking solace in the warmth of its body and leaned in as the chickens ran around her feet.
‘I am sorry about that,’ she breathed. ‘Us talking about the birth of your beautiful little one like you’re part of a reality TV show.’
Noble moved its head and it was then that Orla saw it. She swallowed. This couldn’t be right. A sick feeling started to rise up in her stomach as she made a closer inspection.
‘Hold still, lovely,’ Orla said, trying to get a good view of the base of the reindeer’s antlers. She didn’t like what she saw. And then her eyes moved down to its throat, and it gave her all the confirmation she needed.
42
‘Erin! We have Thai takeout!’ Tommy yelled as Jacques let them into the house. ‘I remembered all your favourites! And, if I remembered them wrong then you get to try my favourites!’
Hunter ran ahead and then began whining. Jacques felt a prickle of tension spread across his neck. Something was wrong. He put a hand to Tommy’s arm, stopping him from going any further and then he put a finger to his lips to quieten him.
‘What’s going on?’ Tommy whispered, clinging on to the bag of takeaway food.
‘Wait here,’ Jacques said. He softly paced down the corridor to the inner part of the house, being guided by Hunter’s sounds. His dog then arrived at his feet, licking his hand. He knew there was no danger now, but he still felt something was definitely off. And when he made it to the kitchen, he saw what it was. There were two cabin cases set by the door.
