‘He fainted.’ If a voice could eye-roll, Stephen’s did at that moment.
‘Is he okay to drive?’
‘I would say not. Every time she has a contraction, he gets dizzy.’
‘Good Lord,’ Noelle muttered. ‘Andwe’resupposed to be the weaker sex.’ She moved past me to join Rachel as Nick helped her sit down, crouching down by her side to talk to her.
‘So how are we going to get Rachel to the hospital?’
‘We?’ Stephen raised his eyebrow at me and then looked over at Nick, who was standing back from Rachel and Noelle now they were talking quietly, probably about waters breaking and the like. ‘I think it would be best if Nick drives them.’
‘Why me?’
‘Because, you were the one who insisted on finding out what was going on out here. And because you’re a pilot. You’re used to having people put their lives in your hands as they hurtle along thousands of feet up in the sky. A bit of snow should be child’s play, right?’
Nick didn’t say anything.
‘Sounds logical to me. Would you drive them?’ I extended the car keys towards him.
‘I’ve had a drink,’ he said quietly.
‘One,’ Stephen argued.
‘And a half. I shouldn’t be driving anyone to hospital.’
‘You don’t have to go into the hospital,’ Stephen persisted. ‘Just get them there.’
‘That’s not the point.’ Nick kept tugging on the cuff of his jumper, pulling it down and wrapping it around his fist. I found myself wanting to move over towards him, like there was a thread between us and I could feel it vibrating with a tension that I imagined might ease if I touched him.
‘Isn’t it?’ Stephen’s eyes were dark and unwavering as he stared at his brother. It could have been anger, it could have been pleading but either way, this was not the time for their family issues to be ironed out. Rachel was sweating now, glassy-eyed and groaning as another contraction took hold of her and Ben looked like he was trying to find some strength in his legs and to move away from Stephen, but someone had shot him with a tranquilliser gun. I needed to get everyone back on track. No babies were going to be born in this stable tonight. Unless there was literally no other option, because I’d heard that babies don’t pay much attention to acting managers of hotels.
‘Look, if Nick says he shouldn’t drive because he’s had a drink, he needs to make that call.Youon the other hand haven’t touched a drop. What’s wrong with you driving?’
‘What’s wrong withyoudriving?’ Stephen snapped back at me and I blinked and then laughed a little: so much for his pseudo-apology earlier.
‘I am the only member of staff here in case you hadn’t noticed.’
His nostrils flared and he looked around me towards… ‘Noelle. How about you? D’you drive?’
‘I’ve been drinking too. But I’ll come with you.’
‘Great, all sorted.’ I thrust the keys at Stephen before he could argue any further. ‘You get Ben out to the car first, the fresh air will probably do him good, then bring it around to the front steps and we’ll get Rachel there, with anything else she needs.’
And amazingly, there were no more arguments, and everyone did as I told them. Must’ve been the dress.
Chapter Eleven
By quarter past eleven Rachel was safely – I hoped – on her way to the hospital with Ben, Stephen and Noelle. The bar was empty. Nick was walking Lydia home because she had to be at the shop first thing to make up her final couple of orders for Christmas and I had to admit that maybe, just maybe, I’d pulled it off. The mince pies were all gone, along with a scary amount of wine. I was so relieved, I almost didn’t care about the billion pastry crumbs and dirty glasses I had to tidy up.
I made a start in the dining room, clearing the tables. It was a matter of priorities really; the bar could wait until tomorrow morning if need be. And by the time I’d loaded the dishwashers, it looked increasingly likely it would be needed. Half an hour had passed and I found myself detouring to the front of the lobby to look out of the window by the Christmas tree.
With only the lights of the Christmas tree and the garland around the desk glowing softly, I could see an avalanche’s worth of snow shining on the windowsills and not much else beyond. How long would it take Nick to walk down to the village? And would he be able to find his way back okay?
Of course he would. He was a pilot. He navigated theplanet. He really didn’t need me to worry about him. And it wasn’t my place to worry about him, other than in a conscientious host kind of a way.
I slipped my shoes off because my feet were executing a slow throb and carried them back into the bar with me to survey the damage again.
It was worse than I remembered but Nat King Cole was still singing, silkily smooth and warm on the stereo, and the fire was burning low, red and orange embers sparking and falling into the grate. I took the risk of sitting down before it – the danger being I might fall asleep.
