Page 7 of Christmas Spirit
“Do you want a couple of these?”
“What?”
Roland quickly glanced at Georgie’s outstretched arm, across the back of the passenger seat. In his open palm was a blister of small tablets.
“They’re just over the counter pain killers. You keep rubbing your brow, so I reckon you must have a headache.”
“Yes. Yes, I do. It’s difficult driving in these conditions.”
Georgie popped a couple of tablets and handed them over, and Roland dry swallowed them.
“Thanks.”
Georgie nodded but said nothing as he slumped back into his seat.
Roland glanced at the clock on his dashboard, and jolted.
Three o’clock? That was impossible. They’d been on the road forthree hours?
“What time do you make it?”
“Erm, nearly three,” Georgie said. “It’s slow going, but I didn’t realise it was that slow. And it’s beginning to get dark.”
Roland looked up at the sky, away from the whiteness in front of him which his headlights were having difficulty penetrating. Georgie was right. The light was fading fast and it wouldn’t be too long before it was dark.
Disquiet creeped through his gut. If they didn’t get back on the main road soon, and get to town, they faced being stranded in a back lane in the middle of God alone knew where. He threw another glance up at the sky, sure that it was darker than just a second or two ago.
“What the—?” Roland cried out as a blast of heavy snow hit the windscreen hard, clumping as though it had been thrown deliberately. The car lurched to the right as it skidded on the icy road, coming to a stop with a hard bump.
“Are you all right?” Roland twisted around in his seat and stared at a wide-eyed Georgie.
Georgie nodded. “Yeah, but where did that come from? It’s not like there are any trees a big clump of snow could have fallen off of, is it? I mean, look, it’s just fields.”
Roland stared out at the bleak, desolate landscape. Fields, hedges. Not a tree in sight.
“A blast of wind must have whipped some from the hedge,” Roland said, as he turned back to face the front. It was the only explanation. “I hit something so I’d better—”
“Look.”
Georgie leaned forward and pointed. Just peeking over the bonnet of the car was a sign:hotel this way.
Roland released a long breath. At last, somewhere they could stop. He only hoped they had a couple of spare rooms, because there was no way he was going to be driving around in circles all night long.
Righting the car, Roland followed the sign. It was a few yards further on before anotherhotel this waysign pointed them to the left.
“I didn’t know there was a hotel around here — if I knew wherearound herewas, exactly,” Georgie said.
“I’ve got no clue where we are. As long as there’s a meal, a bath, and a bed waiting, I don’t care.”
Roland frowned in concentration as he bumped his way along what felt more like a farm track than a road. He’d long since lost his sense of direction, and they’d been in the car for three hours, but how far had theyreallygone? He knew every hotel and restaurant for miles around, not that many of them were worth knowing. But his own internal GPS was as screwed up as the one in the car, so which one it would be, he had no idea, and as the snow beat at the windscreen he cared even less.
Wherever it was he was heading, with his kitchen boy in tow, he’d soon be finding out.
Chapter Six
Roland cut the engine and stared out at the hotel. In the near darkness, it appeared to be built entirely of wood, like a ski chalet. But that was as far as the comparison went.
“What is this place?” Georgie said.
