Christmas at Snowflake Lodge by CP Ward

Author:CP Ward [Ward, CP]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AMMFA Publishing

17

Games in the Snow

Jessica went back downstairs, checking in with Mildred at reception first to see if there was anything that needed doing. Mildred just shrugged and shook her head, so Jessica headed downstairs to her room.

Kirsten was nowhere about, but had left evidence that she had recently been in attendance—a coffee mug and a chocolate bar wrapper on the table, next to a book on the French Revolution which had a stamp on the front saying Snowflake Library.

Jessica made herself a drink and pulled a chair near to the window, looking out on the basement view, where someone had thoughtfully strung up some Christmas lights over the giant washing machine and even stuffed a rather forlorn Christmas tree in between a drying rack and a storage cupboard.

She was still buzzing from her conversation with Grandpa. In such a short space of time she had learned so much about him that she had never known, plus a little about herself. No, she didn’t need a boyfriend, even if James’s mockery of her had left her feeling more perturbed than it perhaps should have. Who was he to judge her anyway? It wasn’t like he had a nightmare lodger destroying his property.

Almost by habit, Jessica pulled out her phone. A new message had appeared, perhaps one she had picked up while in Grandpa’s suite on the third floor. She groaned as she opened it.

This place has become unlivable, Lemons. You should be ashamed of yourself. Last night the lock on the front door broke. The key was a little stiff because of the cold so all I did was give it a little shove. Not even angrily, more just miffed. And the whole thing popped out. You call this security? I’ll be going to the letting agency in the morning. And if you think I’m paying next month’s rent, you can forget it. Screw you, Lemons.

Jessica just sighed. With no way to reply, she just tossed her phone onto the floor and rubbed her eyes. Perhaps the lodge needed someone year round? She certainly felt no desire to go back when her contract was over.

Lemons.

How had a single letter made her grandfather’s beloved childhood nickname for her become so hated? She had beamed every time he called her his little Lemon, but once secondary school kicked in and Lemons became her moniker, chanted in classrooms and shouted down hallways, she had despised everything about her family name. She had hated her family’s money, reviled her famous connection. And left everything she loved about her family behind. Yet all along, it had been Grandpa who had led the kind of life to which she should aspire. A life where you just didn’t give a damn.

She sat up. Screw men and lodgers from hell. It was time to take charge. She needed a drink. Alcohol would do, but hot chocolate would be better.

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