Chaos At Christmas – Episode 33
Chaos At Christmas by Ewan Smith
« Previous Post- 1. Chaos At Christmas: Episode 01
- 1. Chaos At Christmas – Episode 33
It was simple enough work. Geraint led the way, moving slowly about, stopping here and there to examine a plant or a border or a bush that was looking a bit battered. He would say a few words, Ferelith would key them into the tablet and then they would move on. In a way, the whole thing was mad. It occurred to her that anyone seeing them would wonder what on earth they were up to at that time of night.
But she didn’t care. She was with Geraint and that was all that mattered. And as they talked quietly together, it felt as if the relationship that had existed between them before was very slowly beginning to return.
“There is so much needing done,” she sighed. “With the artificial snow and the penguins and the concert and the helicopters, the ground is in such a state.”
He frowned. “It’s actually not as bad as it looks. Things do seem a bit knocked about and I wouldn’t want the grounds to compete in the Chelsea Flower Show right at the moment. But with a bit of work, the team and I will soon get things back into shape. A month from now and it’ll all look completely different. Nature recovers quickly if you give her a chance.”
He was looking at her as he spoke; there was passion in his voice. Her heart began to thud inside her chest. He had gazed at her like that at the concert too. She wondered if this was her chance to speak to him about the confusion which had arisen between them. But somehow it didn’t seem to be a time for words. Anyway, he had turned away and the moment was gone.
“The Wishing Well seems to be fine,” he said. She nodded. Sitting on a little table by the circle of shrubs was a plastic box containing a collection of paper stars waiting to be written on along with a selection of glitter pens. And inside the circle there were lots of Christmas wishes scattered about, some in hoops, some not.
They stood side by side. She was getting cold and she wondered if he might put his arm around her. Then, all at once, she had an idea. She turned to him.
Shall we make our own wishes?
A slow smile spread across his face. “Alright then.” Opening the box, he held it out to her and she helped herself to a green star and a purple glitter pen. She thought to herself for a moment and then simply wrote “Let him love me”. Having decorated the words with flowers and bubbles, she folded the star and then folded it again. He was doing the same and she wondered what his message was. “We don’t have the leaf blower; we’ll just have to throw them,” he murmured and Ferelith nodded.
The two of them started counting down at the same moment. “Three – two – one – throw!” Their paper stars flew into the air, partly unfolding as they did so. They seemed to swirl round and round each other as they fell, as if they were dancing, and landed touching each other in the hoop that said, “Your Wish Will Come True!”
Ferelith felt her cheeks flushing. It was nonsense, of course. But as she looked at Geraint, something about his expression suggested that it wasn’t nonsense at all. Neither of them said anything but this time the silence between them didn’t feel awkward. It was as if they weren’t quite sure what was about to happen but yet they knew that it would be wonderful. Dandy Barham drifted into her mind and the suggestion he had made to her. “Pass it on,” he had told her.
Father Christmas gave me a present,
she said to Geraint, her voice hoarse. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears. From her pocket, she brought out the sprig of mistletoe. There was a flaring in Geraint’s eyes as she lifted it above their heads and, a moment later, their lips came together.
Ferelith thought that she was probably floating. It certainly felt like she was floating as she made her way back into the hotel. She wasn’t sure how long she and Geraint had been out in the grounds. They had kissed and kissed and kissed again and said all manner of nonsense to each other, none of which she could now remember.
Her whole body was tangled up in a mess of excitement. She supposed that she would be going to bed soon but she couldn’t imagine falling asleep; her mind was too full. Geraint was coming back to the Manor in the morning and it was just possible that they might kiss again. One life didn’t seem enough for so much happiness.
There were still people mingling about and she found her father by the Christmas tree. “Hello, Dad,” she murmured with a dozy smile. Lyle was with him. And Franklyn. “Hello, Lyle. Hello, Franklyn. Happy Christmas to you all.” It struck her vaguely that none of them seemed in a very Christmassy mood. In fact, they all had troubled expressions on their faces. “Is something wrong?” Though surely it was impossible for anything to be wrong? It was almost Christmas Day and everything in the world was perfect.
“It’s the GroupChat phones,” her father said anxiously.
They’ve disappeared!
“We have to contact the police,” Lionel protested.
“Absolutely not,” Franklyn snapped back. “In two weeks’ time, GroupChat will be carrying out the biggest product launch in the company’s history. We’ve been building up the excitement about this for months. It would be a disaster if news got out that samples of the phones had been released early and were out there somewhere in the hands of goodness knows who. Our entire marketing strategy would be derailed.”
“But I have the reputation of the Manor to consider. I can’t have people thinking that if they stay at this hotel then their property might be stolen.”
Franklyn looked at him coldly. “They won’t think that if they don’t know about it. The police cannot be informed.”
Ferelith couldn’t seem to get her mind working properly. Inside, she was such a mixture of being tired and excited and happy and confused. She looked around the reception area. It was quietening down as people drifted off to their rooms, though there were still quite a few guests lounging around in the armchairs and chatting together.
They were all adults. The children and young people had been sent off to bed after the party whether they wanted to go or not. It was late on Christmas Eve. They needed a good night’s sleep in preparation for the next day’s celebrations.
She found it hard to picture what Christmas Day would be like. The staff at the hotel would certainly be kept on the go. She would be up early for her usual jog but she had no idea when she would finish her stint. It was bound to be one of those days when her services were constantly being called upon. Though that didn’t bother her because there would also be Geraint.
