‘Then it’s a case of putting the firelighter in the right spot, and… hey, presto!’
He stood and watched as the bundle of sticks burst into flames, waiting until a mini fire got going before adding a small piece of wood, and then another, until he eventually got a full-sized log in there.
What a bloody faff this was going to be. Couldn’t he just swing by and do it for me each morning? Surely it was basic customer service to make sure guests didn’t freeze to death in their Firefly beds. And it wouldn’t hurt to have some early-morning eye candy to start the day off strong.
‘I’ve been doing it all wrong. Stuffing a tree in there and trying to light it. No wonder it wasn’t doing anything.’
‘Ah, no. It takes practice,’ he said, holding the door ajar and blowing on it gently. ‘I’m doing this all day every day; you’ll get the hang of it. Are you happy with everything so far, otherwise? Let me know if you have any questions.’
Where to even begin? ‘Oooh, yes, I do have a couple. Is there a laundry service?’ I was here for a month after all; how could anyone manage on one suitcase of clothes? Or two, even?
‘Not a service as such, but we have a washing machine and dryer that guests can use up near the main house.’
‘Ahhh – so thereisa main house. What a relief! I was beginning to think I’d be stuck in this tiny shoebox the entire month!’
‘Well, yes, we have a farmhouse, but…’
‘Sod the fire in that case, I’ll mosey on up there for a macchiato and people-watch for a couple of hours.’
‘…it’s our family home,’ he finished, quietly.
‘Oh. Isee,’ I said, awkwardly changing tack. ‘Can you show me where the Wi-Fi lounge is then instead? I can get a coffee in there.’
‘Erm…’
‘Your dad said I could?’ I said, feeling desperate.
‘Sure, I can take you there, but it’s not what you might think of as a lounge. Is that what Tore called it?’ Henrik smiled to himself, his teeth pearly white against his sun-kissed skin. ‘The retreat is advertised as tech-free, you see, so the Wi-Fi is really just in place for emergencies.’
‘And is Netflix classed as an emergency?’ I asked, half-serious.
Henrik’s eyes sparkled as he laughed. ‘I wouldn’t say so, no. Watching TV goes against the vibe of the place. People come here to switch off from all that,’ he said, swerving me off topic. ‘There are loads of activities instead though, to get you into nature – I have your programme here in fact,’ he said, handing me a booklet. ‘Today we have a laughter workshop at ten, in the Sun Hut.’
I cringed. That sounded like my idea of hell, but I didn’t want to be a spoilsport. ‘What does that involve, exactly?’
Henrik smiled. ‘Lots of laughing, ideally. It’s very fun and silly, and everyone always leaves in a happy mood. You know how it is when you get the uncontrollable giggles?’ I nodded. ‘It’s a real high, right? Complete release.’ The fire was now at full throttle,flames licking at the glass door, grappling to get out. Henrik gave it a sharp prod with the poker and threw on one last log before locking it up. ‘There, that should keep you going.’
‘Thank goodness for you! I was about to set fire to a pillow to get it started.’
He shrugged. ‘Come on, I’ll take you to the Wi-Filounge,’ he said, the twinkle still there. ‘Bring your map, and I’ll give you a tour at the same time.’
Finally – access to civilisation.
We trudged through the snow and into the forest where I spotted a couple of other cabins camouflaged into the woodland. Each one was in its own space, far away from any neighbours. All of us together, in the middle of nowhere.
‘You’re from London, aren’t you?’ Henrik asked, his hands stuffed in his back pockets as he walked.
‘Yes, the King’s Road – I mean, King’s Cross – do you know it?’ Freudian slip. The King’s Road was where I’d lived with Mark. Before.
‘Like in Monopoly?’ He had a flirtatious glint in his eye. ‘Yeah, I’ve heard of it.’
I laughed. ‘The very one. It’s been done up over the last few years, so it’s much nicer than it used to be.’
‘What made you come out here if you’re not an outdoorsy person?’
Bloody good question. ‘It’s a funny story actually. Did Emma Stone stay here a few months ago?’
Henrik frowned for a second then shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. I’m pretty good with names and I don’t remember an Emma. Is she a friend of yours?’
