Julie Caplin - Romantic Escapes

Over to the right was a small lounge area with a neat two-man sofa, draped in the softest cashmere perfect-for-snuggling-in-on-a-cold-day throw, two arm chairs facing the fire and beyond that a compact kitchen area with a breakfast bar and two stools.

With a tired smile she promised herself that on her first day off she’d be wrapping herself up in the throw, building a fire (something she’d need to learn how to do) and watch the flames.

She climbed into the cool sheets, immediately snuggling into the soft embrace of a thick mattress topper. As her head settled into the clutch of feather pillows, the duvet nestling around her, she let out a tiny sigh. Stop thinking brain, she told herself. As usual it refused to play ball and instead delighted in torturing her with an image of herself clambering out of the hot tub like a bedraggled drowned rat. What a first impression. She sighed again and curled on her side, succumbing to the delicious softness of the bed, feeling herself start to drift. What must Hekla and Alex have thought of their new boss? At worst they’d think she was a clumsy, flaky, klutz. They had no idea what she’d done … at the moment. Under the covers, she crossed her fingers. Hopefully they never would. She swallowed back the stupid threatening tears that had suddenly sprung from nowhere. Would Alex’s kind eyes hold the same expression if he ever saw that bloody video? Would Hekla’s quick, easy smiles turn to sneers of disgust if she looked up Lucy Smart on the internet? Lucy scrunched her eyes closed and burrowed deeper into the mattress, drifting off to sleep as she succumbed to the soft cocoon of the bed.

Something had woken Lucy and she lay confused as the weight of silence pressed in on her. It took her a slow processing couple of seconds to remember where she was. Iceland. In the middle of nowhere. With a frown, she pushed away the pale green duvet, the warmth now suffocating. Wait, the duvet was green? Blearily she looked around the room which was suffused with a soft unearthly light. It took another moment to register and she raised herself onto her elbows, sleepily squinting out of the windows. It had been so dark when she’d gone to bed, she hadn’t bothered with the blinds.

Wow! Wide awake, she pushed herself up, cool air hitting her shoulders.

A silent symphony of pulsating green light lit up the dark sky, swirling in ethereal waves. Pushing back the covers, she grabbed the throw from the sofa wrapping it around her shoulders as she padded to the window. Mesmerised she placed a hand on the ice-cold window as if she might trace the path of the dancing lights. Her heart expanded in her chest, her eyes wide with wonder.

The eerie magical light revealed a shadowed landscape, the sea meeting the land in a seductive curve and bathing the rocky crags on the hillside in cool colours. Clutching the throw tighter she sank to the floor, enchanted by the serene, soundless spectacle unfolding before her with the grace of a gentle ballet.

Like silk flowing in the wind, the lights danced to a soundless tune, slow and slumberous. Goosebumps prickled her skin as she traced their progress. The sight filled her with a sense of awe and unexpected contentment. All the worries and fears of the last few months faded into insignificance, puny and irrelevant in the face of one of nature’s constants. She wondered for how many thousands of years had the aurora borealis been appearing and what ancient races had made of them. Magic? The presence of a god? Did they see them as a sign? Lifting her head she stared up, suddenly feeling stronger almost as if she were absorbing the cosmic energy. There was a whole universe out there and she was nothing but a tiny speck in the scheme of things. At this exact moment in time, she was nothing and everything, a part of the natural cycle. She clenched her fist in a silent promise. Forward. Look forward. Instead of seeing being in Iceland as a penance she would make the most of it. A second chance. She wouldn’t be shaped by her mistakes. Fanciful as it was, this was a sign, she was sure of it. She would take this chance and use all her skills and experience to make sure that the people that came to The Northern Lights Lodge had a memorable stay.

The next morning, having dressed with care, determined to make a better impression, Lucy followed her nose finding her way to the empty reception area. She could hear voices raised in argument, the harsh consonants of the unfamiliar language interspersed with some English. They came from the office beyond the reception desk. When Lucy entered the room, she could almost feel the tension thickening the air.

Hekla was standing behind one of two desks, the pen in her hand rattling on the surface of the desk as she faced two other women who wore uniforms. This morning there was no sign of the sunny smiles of the previous evening, instead Hekla’s face was scrunched in mutinous resignation as she argued, although it appeared her heart wasn’t really in it, with a trim girl of perfect proportions and the sort of make-up that made you wonder how on earth she’d perfected those uniform neat eyeliner flicks on both eyes. She looked as if she were about to go on an upmarket shopping trip rather than the task of cleaning bedrooms as her uniform suggested. She tossed her neat glossy brown bob and cast a quick look towards Lucy, her mouth closing sharply as if swallowing her next sentence. Hekla snapped her mouth shut and the awkward silence stretched out as all three of them, curiously, couldn’t seem to meet each other’s eyes.

‘Good morning, can I help?’ asked Lucy in polite but firm enquiry, stepping forward and standing still, determined to mark her authority from the get-go. It was only then that she realised that the head barman who’d fished her out of the hot tub last night was also there, leaning up against the wall, his arms folded and an expression of impatience on his face.

The taller blonde girl opposite Hekla raised her head and her long fluid arms dropped to her side. She looked uncertain and worried at the same time.

Hekla pursed her lips and cast an agonised look towards the two girls before she said, ‘We have a slight problem with huldufólk.’

‘Sorry?’ Lucy thought she remembered hearing the word last night but wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly as she tried to copy Hekla’s rather cute accent, ‘huldufólk?’

What the hell were they?

The two girls nodded vehemently.

Hekla sighed. ‘They’ve left mices. Freya,’ she indicated the dark-haired young woman, ‘and Elin,’ she nodded towards the second blonde woman, ‘and the other staff who live in the staff quarters want to leave but then we will have no one to clean the rooms or to serve the breakfast this morning.’

Lucy gave a quick glance at her watch. It was eight o’clock, although it was still dark outside, surely breakfast service must be underway?

‘Mices?’ She was starting to feel completely stupid, echoing everything the other girl said.

‘Yes, you know little furry mices.’

‘Mice,’ said Lucy, finally cottoning on. ‘You have mice.’ She glanced down at her feet and around the skirtings of the room. This she could handle. ‘OK,’ she gave the two women a smile, ‘we can get some mousetraps. I’m sure that will solve the problem. No one needs to leave.’ Now she understood the underlying panic on Hekla’s face. Getting staff here on short notice would be difficult if not impossible. Yesterday’s taxi ride had established they were in a remote location. The nearest town had been a good twenty minutes away. ‘Humane traps.’ Then she added for good measure. ‘Or perhaps we can borrow a cat?’ She’d always prided herself on finding solutions to problems. Even Chris had complimented her on her ability to think outside the box.