Chaos At Christmas – Episode 27
Chaos At Christmas by Ewan Smith
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- 1. Chaos At Christmas – Episode 27
It took him a while to relax but gradually he became infected by the mood of the crowd. He even danced to some of the songs with her. At some point, she felt his arm go round her shoulders. She thought it was probably because there was quite a crush and he didn’t want them to get separated.
But the arm stayed there even when the crowd became more spread out. The final song, “My Alabamalama”, was one of Ferelith’s favourites. She sang along with DJ Klaws and the crowd and Geraint held her tightly. At the end, everyone was cheering and calling out for more. It was such a moment of celebration.
She wasn’t sure how it happened but she found that the two of them were facing each other and that he was cupping her cheeks. Then with a sense of amazement mixed in with the realisation that she had known that this was going to happen from the moment they had first met, she felt Geraint kissing her.
The dawn sky in the distance was being lightened by delicate streaks of colour and everything was quiet as Ferelith jogged along the path. All she could hear was her steady breathing and the sound of her feet padding against the ground. Her cheeks had become moistened by a faint mist in the air but it didn’t trouble her for she was glowing inside.
When the concert had ended, she and Geraint had been whirled apart. There was so much needing done and no time to think about anything apart from getting the Manor back into some kind of order. The organisers had been very efficient.
The crowd was quickly dispersed and, by midnight, the security team was doing a sweep of the grounds to make sure that the only people left were hotel staff and guests. The stalls had been packed up and driven away.
Litter-gatherers had appeared from somewhere and got to work. The sound and lighting equipment had been taken down and disappeared. Now, the only thing left to do was dismantling the stage and that was due to happen first thing in the morning.
She wasn’t sure when she had finally got to bed; around two o’clock in the morning, she thought. But Lionel had been glad that they had managed to get back on top of things. “Let’s just hope that the concert is the last of the Christmas surprises,” he had said as he wished her goodnight.
That had made her laugh out loud. “Don’t bet on it.”
It had been a very long day which had left her exhausted. But as she lay in bed, she couldn’t get to sleep. That moment when Geraint had turned to her and kissed her was going round and round in her head like a video clip on a loop. It had been so sweet and lovely.
The two of them hadn’t really talked about it afterwards. There was too much noise around them at the end of the concert. And then they had been so busy with the rest of the staff at the hotel. There hadn’t been the chance to slip off somewhere for a quiet cuddle and to whisper nonsense to each other.
At one point as Ferelith had lain there in bed, she had stretched over to the little table and picked up her phone. She looked at it, wondering if she should send a message to Geraint. She longed to do so but something held her back. She felt strangely shy and uncertain.
She wasn’t sure how he felt. Was it possible that he had just been caught up in the excitement of the moment? Perhaps he even regretted kissing her. Though as he had held her in his arms, regret had seemed to be the last thing he was feeling. She had closed her eyes and remembered it one more time.
“So you’re not a DJ Klaws fan, Erik?” Ferelith grinned.
“Mr Klaws is a guest at the hotel and I naturally hold him in the utmost respect,” Erik retorted loftily. His upper lip twitched. “Though it’s true to say that I’ve yet to develop a full appreciation for his music.”
“In other words, you hate it?”
“I’m sure that it has many sterling qualities which I am still to discover.”
“He certainly knows how to enjoy himself,” Ferelith said ruefully. The suite in which DJ Klaws was staying was directly above reception and, even though it was barely nine o’clock in the morning, they could hear the music pounding through the ceiling.
Miss Buckley-Tone on the grand piano was bravely trying to compete against the noise with her selection of gentle Christmas carols but it was an uneven struggle.
“I’m rather at a loss as to what to do,” Erik said in bafflement. “People playing loud music in their rooms isn’t something that happens at the Manor.”
The light fitting above them seem to shiver at a particularly noisy drum-roll. “It’s happening now,” Ferelith retorted.
“Normally, I would request that the racket be lowered to a more acceptable level because it was upsetting the neighbouring guests. But in this case, the guests are having as much fun as he is.”
“Is that what’s happening?” Ferelith asked curiously.
There’s a party going on?
Erik nodded. “And the kitchen is hard at work supplying them with all kinds of bizarre requests. Who eats oysters for breakfast, for heaven’s sake?” His lips pursed in disapproval. “And there are television cameras everywhere into the bargain.”
Ferelith frowned. “I thought the journalists and media folk were long gone?”
Erik shook his head. “These are his own people. Apparently, he has a cable show in America. The cameras follow him wherever he goes so that every incident in his life can be recorded and shown to his adoring masses.”
Ferelith looked at Erik in horror. “I would hate that. What about his privacy?”
“I suspect that’s why the wild party is happening. Mr Klaws has a reputation to maintain. Still, he’s a guest at the hotel and if that’s what he wants…” Erik frowned and turned to her. “Incidentally, have you seen Geraint yet this morning?”
Ferelith felt a flush warming her cheeks. She had been thinking about him almost continually but she hadn’t actually seen him. “Why do you ask?” she said, trying to sound casual.
She suddenly wondered if the two of them had been spotted kissing at the concert. That would no doubt prompt even more rumours amongst the staff.
But Erik was shaking his head. “I’m just feeling rather sorry for him and his team. The grounds are in a terrible state after the concert.”
Ferelith sighed. “They are, aren’t they?” It wasn’t just the people trampling all over the place at the concert; it was innumerable vans and lorries too. They hadn’t been particularly careful about where they went and now much of the grounds were a churned-up mess of artificial snow and mud. “It’s going to be such a lot of work for them to get it back into its usual state.”
“It’s going to cost money too,” Erik added.
