Christmas at the Island Hotel - Jenny Colgan Page 0,27

everyone else was getting annoyed with her, as she insisted on lining up every single thing perfectly, buying so many fairy lights their electricity bill was going up, and using a ruler to straighten the edges of her Battenberg cake to make sure it looked absolutely perfect in the photographs.

She had lobbied Flora to buy new artsy-looking cake stands, which Flora was dead set against—it was hard enough to keep the lights on through the winter as it was. And now old Mrs. McClocherty was waiting to get served at the till, and Mrs. Barr behind her, who was having to deal with the wait for cake by listening to an exhaustive list of Mrs. McClocherty’s latest medical symptoms.

Iona reflected that she needed something better than this.

Chapter 20

The success of the dinner somehow softened the atmosphere in the kitchen. And Gaspard was softening too to what was available on the island. He pulled in a huge side of locally smoked salmon one afternoon to experiment with canapés and insisted they all try a bit.

“You have to learn,” said Gaspard. “Only have what is good.”

“Won’t that make you very expensive?” asked Isla shyly.

He glanced at her. “Yes,” he said. “You pay sheet you get sheet, okay? We must get out and see the terroir.”

“I don’t know what that is,” said Isla. “But the Seaside Kitchen has millionaire’s shortbread.”

Gaspard snorted loudly.

“Can I come?” Konstantin asked.

“You are pot boy. Is not necessary for you. Scrub pot cupboard, please.”

But Konstantin had looked so pained and sad that Gaspard relented, and he’d practically bounded upstairs to grab an extremely expensive-looking coat and scarf and his ridiculous dog.

They strode down the long road to the village. It was snowing, the sky gray and low and the fresh flakes bouncing into their faces. Bjårk was happily stamping his massive paws in and out of frozen puddles that cracked every time and surprised him anew every time. Konstantin was like a teenager, his long legs stretching out the journey, as the snow finally fell away and the breeze dropped and a watery winter sunlight appeared. He cracked as many puddles as Bjårk did, covering a lot of ground as if just delighted to be out in the open air, as indeed he was.

Isla was snuggled in her new teddy bear coat. Konstantin had frowned when he’d run into her at the kitchen door.

“You look like a bear,” he’d said.

“So?” said Isla, who was nervous and not paying attention and not really in the mood to go out in the freezing cold with a temperamental chef and a spoiled man-boy. Kerry and Tam were getting to stay in and do prep in the nice warm kitchen, and she’d much rather be with them, however many dirty looks Kerry shot her.

“So you are buyer for the Seaside Kitchen,” said Gaspard.

“I don’t need to be the buyer,” said Isla. “I know exactly where to get everything from. Bread from Mrs. Laird, dairy from Fintan and Innes, smoked fish from Linhorn, and fresh fish from right outside my front door.”

“Well, then you must show me, and we can make sure together. It is important for a kitchen to understand provenance.”

Near the entrance to the farm, they were stopped in their tracks by a loud voice.

“You are a bad dog!”

“Hé hé,” said Konstantin. “I don’t think he is a bad dog.”

Agot came up to his knees. “He broke my skating rink!”

Everyone looked at the muddy, icy puddle in which Bjårk was standing.

“I am going to the ’limpics and now I cannot practice.”

“You’re going to the Olympics to ice-skate?”

“Yes!”

“This is Fintan’s niece, Agot,” said Isla. “Agot, this is Konstantin. He works at Colton’s hotel and this is his dog, Bjårk Bjårkensson.”

Agot looked at Bjårk with undisguised dislike. “I don’t like his dog.”

Konstantin looked at her, insulted. “That’s a puddle, not an ice rink.”

There was a pause. Then Agot turned tail and rushed back to the farmhouse, bawling her eyes out.

“Well done,” said Isla crossly. “She’s five. And your boss’s niece.”

“Well, she should have better manners,” said Konstantin, going slightly pink.

“So should you! She’s a child!”

“I am now concerned we will be banned from their dairy,” said Gaspard. “You—keep your mouth shut.”

Flora came down to meet them, holding hands with a howling Agot. Konstantin immediately went forward to meet them.

“I am very sorry,” he said, crouching down in front of the child, although he still sounded sullen. “My dog should not have broken your ice rink.”

“That’s because he’s a very bad dog,” said Agot, and