Page 6 of So This is Christmas

Jennie helped the man by the brasserie who wanted to know the service times for the evening meal.

But as soon as she walked away, Elliot’s voice was back inside her head.

His request felt like it had come out of nowhere, but perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised.

He’d asked her to stay over a lot more lately, and maybe him giving her a bit of a say in furnishing his place had been his way of hinting that he wanted more than what they already had.

She wished she’d told him everything at the start, got it out in the open, because now how could he trust her when she’d kept so much to herself?

And did she really want to live with someone when the relationship might not work out?

Then where would she be? Right now she was settled; she had her own apartment, she was happy with the way things were.

There was a lot to be said for being happy in the moment.

Another couple wanted to know where the spa was and as Jennie walked them there, they chatted about the hotel.

The guests were very complimentary about the facilities and Jennie felt a bloom of pleasure that she was a part of all this.

Ever since the day she had first walked through the large double doors with their gleaming brass handrails, she’d been proud to work at the Wynter Hotel.

Dating back to the late nineteenth century, the hotel in the heart of Vienna was steeped in tradition but wasn’t lacking in modern amenities.

The one-hundred-room hotel’s facade had generous windows to let in natural light, some of which had small Juliet balconies, and it commanded a presence on the street with the royal blue French curved awnings emblazoned with the hotel’s name over some of the ground-level windows.

The hotel’s name was written in big, bold lettering on the front of the building as well as on the doors leading into the opulent foyer, and its warmth wrapped around every single person inside.

The Wynter Hotel was exquisite and never more so than at Christmastime.

An enormous lit-up red bow wrapped around the exterior of the hotel, which sat on a street corner.

The windows on the front of the building were decorated with garlands and sparkled with gold and green lights, the fir tree in the lobby stood tall and proud and with its gleaming baubles and abundant velvet bows, it was pure luxury.

Crisp white lights amongst the branches blinked softly at guests and matched those that adorned the garlands over doorways leading through to other parts of the hotel: the reception, the entrance to the brasserie and the door which took guests to the spa area.

Jennie had only just returned from the spa when another guest required her help. Some days it was like this, but she loved it – it gave her a bit of variation from the more formal parts of her job.

She took the elderly guest into the brasserie to meet Hans, the restaurant manager, who would be able to help the gentleman with his enquiry about the vegetarian food they served.

The man chimed in in German that he hated to be a pain, and Hans replied that it was absolutely fine.

Jennie was getting better at understanding and speaking German all the time.

The first man who had asked her on a date when she’d arrived in Vienna was German and very charming but spoke barely any English.

They’d been thwarted from the start with the language barrier, although she hadn’t really felt ready for a relationship with her focus on the job so much, plus he was considerably younger than her.

Then when Elliot came along, there were no such barriers – only the ones she put up herself.

When she went back into the foyer, she could see that Marie was busy with a guest so she jumped in to help someone else.

It seemed this guest knew very little English.

She managed to give the man basic directions to the Christmas Village at Maria-Theresien-Platz, using a map she found behind the reception desk and a few hand gestures as they stood at the front entrance of the hotel.

When the guest went on his way she hoped she hadn’t got anything wrong.

She’d put herself on a couple of short courses to learn German when she first arrived in Vienna, and she’d been broadening that learning ever since.

She set her standards high and didn’t intend to ever let them slip.

She never wanted to take for granted her well-paid job with responsibility, her family, or her home.

When Jennie saw Patrick enter reception, she explained the accusation by the Rotherhams. She spoke to her team members in English the majority of the time; she wasn’t ready to do that in German, and luckily her staff had all been speaking English since they learned the language to a high level at school.

Patrick’s cheeks flushed. ‘I-I wasn’t rude at all,’ he stuttered. ‘I remarked that they were travelling lightly, that was it.’

‘I believe you. The airline lost the rest of their luggage so I think they’re likely to be a bit sensitive, not to mention tired. Don’t worry yourself too much – I upgraded them to a better suite and they’re happy now they’ve moved. They’re only here for a single night.’

‘I’m really very sorry, Miss Clarke.’ He hated confrontation, and at only twenty he was still quite new to all of this.

‘Patrick, there’s no need to apologise. I’ve worked with you long enough to know you aren’t rude to customers. But just one more thing…’

‘Yes, Miss Clarke?’

‘I’ve told you before, you should call me Jennie.’

‘Okay, Miss… Jennie.’

He scurried off towards the front door, ready to help the woman arriving with twice as much luggage as the Rotherhams.

When her phone vibrated again she wondered whether it would be Elliot in a flap at the shops trying to choose suitable gifts for the family members she kept putting off having to meet. But she didn’t recognise the number.

She answered, but as with the two calls she’d had earlier that day from an unknown number, the person on the other end hung up. She frowned. It was probably telemarketers. She smiled over at Nick when he came into reception.

He tilted his head in the direction of the brasserie because they had a meeting scheduled. Sometimes the meetings were in her office or one of the conference rooms, but the brasserie was her favourite place to go because it was more relaxed.

‘I’ll just get my papers from the office and I’ll join you,’ she called over.

By the time she had everything she needed and went to join him in the brasserie, Nick had settled at a corner table in the near-empty eatery, which in a few hours would likely be crammed given the temperature outside was plummeting as winter really set in.

Hans brought over two Melange coffees – espressos with steamed milk and topped with foam – as well as a couple of coffee biscuits on the side.

‘Was that Elliot earlier?’ Nick asked as he took out the relevant paperwork to get them started.

‘Huh?’

‘On the phone. You were frowning, must have been him.’

‘I thought you liked him.’

‘Better than the last,’ he said.

She grinned. He was such a big brother to her. ‘So you do like him?’

‘He’s fine.’

‘Fine?’

He smiled. ‘All right, he’s more than fine. But I still worry about you. I hope he’s treating you right.’

‘He is.’ But she wasn’t doing the same in return because she hadn’t told him the truth and he should know before they got in any deeper.

‘So who was it?’

‘Huh?’

‘On the phone,’ he prompted.

‘I don’t know. It was from a number I didn’t recognise and they hung up. It’s my third one of those today though, so it’s getting annoying.’

‘Probably telemarketers.’

‘That’s what I thought.’ She wondered what Nick would make of her boyfriend’s suggestion and decided to test the waters. ‘Elliot did call earlier, though. He’s asked me to move in with him.’

Nick put his pen down. ‘What did you say?’

‘I didn’t really, I got waylaid.’

‘What do you think you’ll say?’

‘I think we should start our meeting.’

‘Hmm.’ It was his turn to frown. ‘Don’t rush into anything, that’s my older brother advice, for what it’s worth. Then again, you’re not getting any younger.’

She began to laugh. It was this sort of teasing that really made her feel a part of a family that hadn’t been hers until her twenties, and she would be forever grateful to have found the Wynters when she did.

Nick Wynter was kind, just like his parents.

As the general manager he looked the part – thick sandy brown hair cut neatly, a navy-blue designer suit worn with a crisp white shirt and patterned tie – but when he was outside of the establishment, Jennie saw a different Nick, a more relaxed man who was patient and didn’t take things quite as seriously.

They got on with their meeting and were soon deep in conversation about the new system Nick wanted to bring on board for housekeeping that would improve the guest experience and efficiency of operations at the hotel.

After a good hour they were finished but Jennie stopped Nick from ordering a third coffee for her when he ordered his own from a passing Hans. ‘Any more and I’ll be way too jittery. May I have a water please?’

While Nick texted his son Henry, Jennie took the opportunity to admire the brasserie in all its festive finery.

The tree in the window that looked out over the street was decorated with multi-coloured baubles, static white lights and navy-blue bows to match the awnings outside and the runner along the bar.

Each dark wooden table’s centrepiece had a small candle in the centre of red berries, pine cones and greenery, and soon the lights in the room would be dimmed and the music would continue to play soft and low.

‘How’s Henry doing?’ she asked once Nick had finished his text.

‘He’s good. I was hoping he’d think about coming for Christmas – I thought we might all appreciate it given the circumstances – but I had him last year and it’s his mum’s turn in LA, I suppose.’

Nick was divorced and his wife lived in Los Angeles. She’d taken their son with her and at the time Nick had thought it was for the best, what with him working such long hours. Jennie knew he wished he could see more of Henry than he did but he was a good dad and did his best from afar.

‘Maybe next Christmas,’ she said. ‘Talking of Christmas, the apartment still needs decorating.’ She didn’t need to add that she wasn’t referring to her apartment but to Walter and Greta’s. ‘It might help us all feel a bit more festive.’

He nodded. ‘You’re right. It’s normally ready by now, I need to go and sort it.

’ He shuffled his paperwork into a pile, clicked the top of his pen to retract the nib.

‘I’ve been far too busy and I’m away again tomorrow for a couple of days at a hotel in Klagenfurt, talking at the hospitality conference. ’

‘I’d forgotten about that. Why don’t we both go and help at the apartment when you’re back?’

‘I’m back on the morning of the 3rd.’

‘The 3rd it is then.’

His face creased into a smile. ‘You’re a very bossy sister, you know.’

‘I do my best.’

Jennie gathered up her own paperwork. ‘I should have finished my comfort teddy by then so I’ll take that to add to the collection.’

‘You made one teddy?’

‘I know, pretty poor. But hey, it’s one more than you’ve made.’

‘Point taken.’

They parted ways outside the brasserie and Jennie headed back to her office.

When her phone buzzed again she answered without looking at the caller display, fully expecting it to be either Elliot or the usual hang-up.

It was neither. Instead, it was a voice she hadn’t heard in almost sixteen years.

And it reminded her that she might well have found a new life – but the past was always going to catch up with her.