Death Comes at Christmas by Marie O'Regan

Author:Marie O'Regan
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781803369433
Publisher: Titan
Published: 2024-06-26T00:00:00+00:00

LAST CHRISTMAS

Fiona Cummins

THE HOTEL was closing due to heavy snowfall.

Veda Shaw and her family had spent every Christmas at this remote Highland setting for as long as she could remember, and she’d be damned if the weather was going to prevent them from getting there, especially this year.

She glanced at her granddaughter Bea in the rearview mirror. The ten-month-old was sleeping peacefully, and although her snowsuit was unzipped, her cheeks were flushed. She hoped Alys was making sure she wasn’t overheating because accidents could happen so easily. She chastised herself. Stop catastrophising, Vee. As a nurse, she’d witnessed some awful tragedies, and just because they’d experienced one of their own this time last year, it didn’t mean it was going to happen again.

The windscreen wipers were barely able to clear the snow that fell in thick flakes and settled as soon as it hit the frozen ground. Not for the first time, Veda was glad that Malcolm had insisted on a car that could handle such wintry conditions.

“Dad would have loved this, wouldn’t he?” she said to Alys, who was gazing out of the rear passenger window, watching the blizzard transform the Cairngorms into a scene from a Christmas card.

Alys laughed, a soft sound. “He’d have packed the snow shovel, blankets and emergency rations in September.” She deepened her voice in a facsimile of her father’s. “Have you filled the flasks, Vee?” Her face crumpled. “It’s not going to be the same without him.”

“No, love.” Veda touched the brake gently and kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead. “But the three of us will have fun. Especially as it’s Bea’s first Christmas.”

“I wish he could have met her.”

“Me too. He would have been tickled pink.”

The light was fading fast, snow-heavy clouds casting a smoky pall over everything. Veda tried to ignore the stirrings of anxiety inside her. The road to the hotel was steep, prone to drifts, and they risked getting stuck if the weather didn’t ease soon. Forecasters had warned of the occasional flurry, but they’d been taken by surprise by the violence of this weather system. No one had predicted a storm like this.

The baby cried out, a solitary note that told mother and grandmother she’d be waking soon. Veda estimated they were about ten minutes from the hotel, provided the roads remained passable. Management had warned it was planning to close for the safety of its staff and had sent out emails, urging guests not to travel, but Veda and Alys had left hours earlier. By the time they picked the warnings up on their phones it was too late for them to turn back, and even if they could have done, they had nowhere else to go. Their festive getaway had been booked almost a year ago and there were no other hotels for miles. A skeleton team, made up of staff already in situ, would care for existing guests and any travellers who made it through the snowstorm.

Veda hit a patch of ice and felt the wheels spin beneath them.

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