by Carol Wyer
The place had been cleverly decorated with Santa’s chair covered with a furry blanket adjacent to a mock log fire in one corner. Large stockings hung over a mantelpiece and next to the chair, an extremely long scroll – a list of names of children who’d been good. Eleanor gave her a nudge. ‘Is your name on there?’ she asked with a grin.
Chloe returned it. Memories floated through her mind: of her parents and Georgia singing along to Christmas music on the radio as they extracted baubles and decorations from the cardboard box they kept in the attic, attaching each object – a snowflake Chloe had made at school, a hand-painted red and silver ball purchased on holiday at a German Christmas market and many other objects, each representing a precious memory – to the branches of a pine tree. Christmas did that to you, she mused. It made you think of the past, your childhood and of a time when things seemed perfect. Christmases after her parent’s death never felt the same, and William had hated the whole commercial aspect. He’d gone along with whatever she’d wanted to do, and while Nanny Olive was still alive, they’d had her over for Christmas lunch, but it was rarely a truly joyful time. For all her preparations, William would inevitably turn up late for lunch, having been down the pub beforehand, and usually fell asleep before the Queen’s speech. It stemmed back to his childhood, one spent hiding from a stepfather who hated him and a mother who wasn’t strong enough to stand up for him. Chloe had understood. Christmas was synonymous with families and neither of them had one to share it with. They only had each other and that had always been enough for her. It hadn’t for William.
‘Okay, stand over there,’ said Fairfax, lifting his mobile and waving it at her. He was pointing at a white-faced reindeer with large brown eyes and long eyelashes, leaning over the barrier.
‘You’ll need this,’ said Eleanor, fishing in her bag and dragging out the headband with the felt antlers Chloe recalled wearing the night before. She was about to ask why when it hit her. She’d agreed to something. What was it? She shuffled over to the animal, antler headband in hand. The nametag around the creature’s neck gave her mind the jolt it needed…
‘And one of them’s called Piper,’ says Fairfax, swaying as he pours the clear liquid into her glass. It smells wonderfully fruity, of raspberries, but when she takes a sip, flames shoot down the back of her throat, making her gasp. Eleanor laughs.
‘No. You have to knock it back. Like this.’ She chinks her glass against Chloe’s and chugs the liquid in one. Chloe joins her. This time it doesn’t burn.
Eleanor holds up her glass towards Fairfax. ‘More!’
He refills both glasses. Chloe is feeling comfortably numb. Her limbs are heavy and her lips plumped as if swollen by bee stings that no longer hurt. For the first time in weeks she feels properly relaxed and that she could stay in that armchair for the rest of her life. She accepts the drink and they all down their glasses. Eleanor speaks again. Her voice is distant, like she’s on a boat or a mountain far away. Chloe tries to focus on her words but only catches snippets as they bob away carried on an invisible breeze.
‘Event… you’d love it… this week… photograph for profile…perfect with reindeer… please say yes.’
Chloe beams at her new friends. ‘Yes,’ she says and they both cheer.
She stood next to the reindeer called Piper who seemed content to have a woman wearing a headband by her side. Fairfax had told her that all the reindeer with antlers are most likely to be either females or young males as the older males lose theirs in December. Judging by the size, this one was female. Piper snorted gently, like a horse, and Chloe rubbed the animal’s snout.
‘Say, “I’m a cheery singleton”,’ called Fairfax and Eleanor encouraged her by mouthing the words.
Chloe’s stomach dropped as it dawned on her what she’d actually let herself in for. She’d agreed to join their singleton club and attend their events. One was happening soon. She couldn’t for the life of her think what it was. The reindeer pushed at her hand for food. Oh goodness! She’d have to think of a way to pull out of it. She tried to calm her frantic heartbeat. It would be okay. She’d think of something. She’d throw a sickie or say she was too busy. Eleanor was still encouraging her to smile.
‘Come on. Don’t be shy.’
Chloe forced her lips into a semblance of a smile then said, ‘I ought to buy Piper some feed,’ and hastened to the kiosk to purchase a small tub. As grateful as she was for Fairfax and Eleanor’s kindness, she really couldn’t face a room full of people. Why, oh why had she agreed to this? She turned back as the young man filled the tub, and spotted her neighbours chatting animatedly to a family. They really were terribly nice people. She couldn’t let them down. The young man at the kiosk gave her a wide smile that unnerved her, his eyes trained on her face. She wasn’t accustomed to friendliness: Appletree was filled with people who’d lived there all their lives and didn’t take to strangers, even if those so-called strangers had lived in the same village for five years. Chloe’s only friend had been Faith, while William had managed to muddle along with a group of pub frequenters. If it hadn’t been for the book, nobody would have even noticed Chloe as she went about her business.
She was thinking of answering with a smile of her own when he pointed at her head. ‘The food for you or the others?’ he asked. She lifted her hand, her fingers brushing against the soft felt of the artificial antlers. Instantly tongue-tied, she had no retort. Her voice deserted her. She backed away, wishing the young man would look elsewhere. Heat flooded her veins and turned her face crimson. This was exactly why she didn’t go out to such places. Her knees began to buckle slightly and her stomach somersaulted. Thankfully the family who’d been chatting to Eleanor and Fairfax were approaching the kiosk for reindeer food and distracted the man. She stumbled away, ripped the headband off and hastened to the pen to join the peaceful Piper.
* * *
‘It’s a beaut!’ said Fairfax in an Australian accent.
‘Not too big and it even has roots so you can plant it in your garden afterwards to remind you of your first Christmas at Sunny Meadow,’ Eleanor said.
Ronnie had run himself ragged and was now panting by Fairfax’s feet. The tree trussed up in netting was in the back of the Nissan truck, strapped down with bungee clips, its top overhanging the tailgate. Chloe was feeling more clear-headed, and trudging through woods to the cabin where they selected the tree had been the tonic she needed. They’d walked a man-made track from the wooden shack through dense forestation and out into an opening with far-reaching views over fields and hills, before returning to the car park where the tree was wrapped and waiting beside the car for them. While Fairfax and Ronnie had played with a well-chewed tennis ball, one of his favourite toys, Eleanor had accompanied Chloe into the almost empty gift shop and helped her select all manner of decorations, including a sweet porcelain reindeer with a nametag – Piper.
Chloe climbed back into the truck with a satisfied smile on her face. You are stronger than you think. She placed an arm around Ronnie and joined in with the others as they sang along to a CD of Christmas music in loud, cheerful voices.
* * *
‘Would you like a coffee or anything?” Chloe offered as they stood beside the erected tree, now in a sensible-sized festive pot she’d obtained from the gift shop.
‘Love to but we have to get ready for tomorrow. I bet you’re excited about it, aren’t you?’
Chloe flushed and mumbled, ‘I would be if I could recall what it was I’m supposed to have signed up for.’
Eleanor’s lips parted in a wide ‘O’. Fairfax clapped his hands together in delight.
‘You don’t remember at all? Oh, that’s priceless! Okay. We’ll leave it as a surprise then. Just dress in loose-fitting clothes tomorrow afternoon, come around at four o’clock, and we’ll do the rest.’
‘Don’t leave me guessing,’ Chloe pleaded. ‘I hate surprises.’
‘You’ll love this one,’ Eleanor said, giving Chloe a hug. ‘Trust us.’
>
As the door banged shut, Chloe turned to her dog. ‘What on earth have I let myself in for?’
Ronnie didn’t lift his head from his paws but his tail thumped the once.
Chapter Five
Tuesday, 19th December
After an afternoon spent adorning the tree with new shiny globes and attaching pinecone garlands on the sitting rooms beams, Chloe was feeling an even greater sense of belonging. She collected her mobile phone and Ronnie’s lead, intending to walk around the reservoir and then settle down to some writing. A vague idea, like a transparent-winged butterfly, kept flitting across her mind but departed before settling. A walk might be the catalyst she needed to anchor it. Four months had passed since she’d signed the contract with Upfront Publishing and she hadn’t come up with anything concrete for the new book. The original plan had been to base it around village gossip supplied by William, much like she had her first book. The local pub was a mine of information but without William in her life, it couldn’t happen.
The repetitive hammering coming from the building where she’d first met Alex indicated the men were hard at work. A collection of vehicles scattered haphazardly on the terrain outside the building confirmed there were at least eight men on site. Squinting, she made out two figures stretched out at frightening angles across a bare-timbered roof, and decided they must have either a head for heights or no fear. Chloe wasn’t keen on going up stepladders, let alone hanging off a wooden platform attaching slate tiles seventy or eighty feet up. The house was beginning to take shape quickly. Only two days had passed since it had seemed to be little more than a tumbledown cowshed, yet now it was closer to resembling the final result, another smart addition to the development. She wondered who might move in, and hoped they’d be as easy to get along with as Eleanor and Fairfax.
Her phone rang. It was Faith.
‘I’m making sure you haven’t been eaten by wolves.’ Judging by the clinking of glass and modern music in the background Faith was in a trendy bar.
Chloe laughed. ‘There aren’t any wolves up here.’
‘You know what I mean. How’s it going?’
‘I spent last evening with Eleanor and her husband, Fairfax. They got me blind drunk, and I mean completely plastered.’
Faith released a light chuckle. ‘You’re really funny when you’re drunk. What did you get up to? Did you play hopscotch in their kitchen, using a bar of soap to mark out the numbers on the tiled floor?’
‘That was years ago,’ Chloe protested, wincing at the memory. She and Faith had had a girl’s night in while William was away and it had ended with them playing the ridiculous game.
‘Only three.’
‘Seems like a lifetime ago. It was mad, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, but enjoyable. I hadn’t seen you like that before. You should let your hair down more often.’
The comment stung even though Chloe knew her friend was right. She could be too intense for some people. It wasn’t deliberate. She merely had trouble loosening up unless she had a few drinks.
‘When’s your bloody internet going to be connected, by the way? I hate this old-fashioned way of communicating. You know I prefer to chat face-to-face, and I wouldn’t mind you getting that dishy carpenter over to say hello either.’
‘The engineer’s due Friday. He has to connect a line from a cable somewhere in the development into the house.’
‘Not a minute too soon. That development is like the land time forgot. Beautiful and wild but I could barely get a signal on my mobile let alone any 4G when I was there.’
‘It’s a dead zone,’ Chloe explained.
‘Trust you to move to a flipping dead zone. Are you deliberately trying to stay out of contact with everyone?’
‘Not at all. I’ll be online again soon and we’ll chat properly.’
‘Good because I miss you.’ Faith’s words touched Chloe. Without being able to talk online, she’d have felt even lonelier over the last few months. Faith had insisted on regular Skype video calls and helped her through the dreadful period after she’d first found out about William when she was unable to even saunter out for a walk with Ronnie; she’d let him run loose in the garden instead, shutting the door as soon as he returned. Faith had been by her side, albeit virtually through the internet, and had prevented her losing her way completely. She’d be grateful to be connected to the online world and talk to Faith again while actually seeing her face. She preferred the cyber world to the real world at times. Besides, she needed to get some ideas for her book and as Faith had commented, the 4G signal was next to useless on the hill. She’d been so absorbed talking to Faith, she hadn’t heard the faint crunching of gravel behind her or the sound of a running engine. She jumped when a voice called out her name. It was Alex leaning out of his Land Rover window, one arm on the steering wheel.
‘Chloe, I’m in a hurry. Have to get to the suppliers before they shut.’
She tugged Ronnie out of the path of the vehicle immediately, cheeks on fire. Alex didn’t look best pleased at her holding him up and she’d no idea how long he’d been waiting for her to finish talking.
‘Sorry,’ she mumbled. He didn’t wait for her apology and instead wound up the window before racing off down the track, leaving her with the impression she’d annoyed him.
‘What’s going on? You lost your signal.’
‘No. Alex is cheesed off with me for blocking the road,’ said Chloe.
‘The good-looking one who you fell for – literally!’ Faith stifled a snigger.
‘Ha! I won’t be falling for him again. He has a way of making me feel…’
‘What? Sexy?’
Chloe sputtered. ‘No. Not at all. In truth I feel awkward and inferior.’
‘For crying out loud. You barely know him.’
‘It’s only a feeling.’
‘Well, bury it. Give the guy a chance. His wife chatted to you yet?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Shame he’s married. He’s gorgeous.’
‘He’s not my type.’
‘What is your type? Remind me again? The stuck-up-their-own-arse type?’
‘Faith, you know what I mean.’
‘Yes, and you know what I think about all of this. I know you’re not divorced yet, but you are separated and you need to have a little fun. You’ve been behaving like a hermit for far too long. I understand you have issues meeting people but as your number one cheerleader it’s my duty to encourage you to make the effort.’ She burst into a nonsensical cheerleader chant that ended with the words, ‘Go Chloe…Go Chloe… Go!’
‘Very good. It’s worked. I’m going out tomorrow with a group of single people.’ There, she’d said it and committed herself further to the event. There’d be no pulling out now. Faith would want to know every single detail of it.
‘Shut the front door!’
Chloe had no idea where her friend had picked up such an expression or what it actually meant. ‘I don’t know where we’re going.’
‘This is major. How did Eleanor convince you? Torture you until you agreed?’
‘I was drunk.’
‘Ah. And now you regret it and will back out. I know you, Chloe Piper. You will find some excuse.’
‘No, I’ll go.’ The clawing in her stomach said otherwise.
Faith’s voice became softer. ‘Try, hun. I know how hard it is for you but Eleanor will be there, and you don’t have to stay if you don’t like it. But it might be just what you need right now.’
They chatted for a few minutes longer and Chloe filled in Faith with her news as best she could.
‘Maybe this is even the spark you need for the new book,’ said Faith. ‘Not that I’m pushing you to get it written. I’ve got your back on this but sometimes, distraction can help clear your mind and with all the crap you’ve been through the last few weeks, you need that.’
Chloe pulled a face. The problem was unlikely to be fixed by hanging out with a bunch of people she didn’t know but s
he understood Faith was only looking out for her and wanted her to be happy. She was going to explain she had truly hit a writing block that might never be lifted when Faith suddenly said, ‘Shit, I have to go. Client’s just walked in. Love you.’
Chloe shoved the mobile back in her pocket, thoughts turning to the irritated look on Alex’s face.
‘Well, if ever I find my muse,’ she said to Ronnie, ‘I won’t be modelling any of my male characters on Alex.’
* * *
The marshmallows were at the perfect point of melting, half-submerged like mini fluffy icebergs on top of a large mug of hot chocolate. Chloe, dressed in her comfortable baggy writing jumper teamed only with over-the-knee woollen socks, spooned out two white ones and popped them into her mouth where they continued to melt on her tongue. She wriggled her toes in delight. The walk had been exhilarating and with cheeks, lips and chin stinging from the cold air, she’d raced up the hill with Ronnie and now she felt in better spirits. There was nothing to beat an uninterrupted walk on crisp leaves among trees where only light, musical sounds from winter birds could be heard.
She’d smash this novel. All she needed to do was conjure up similar emotions and feelings that had fuelled her thoughts the first time around. She needed to feel her characters and so far, she hadn’t been able to summon them up. She had a vague idea about her heroine, who she was tempted to model slightly on her sister, Georgia. Georgia had always been the more adventurous of the two of them – the hyperactive, curious teenager who’d not only been a proficient skier and snowboarder at a very young age, but had obtained her pilot’s licence as soon as she hit seventeen. She’d planned to travel, work abroad as a bush pilot or go to Alaska and work with the ice pilots. Nothing fazed Georgia who took after their father, a marine biologist who was also an accomplished pilot and scuba diver.
Georgia had been a shining star – a bright ball of energy. Chloe hadn’t tried to compete with her sister; they were chalk and cheese and Chloe had never felt envious of her. Georgia was big-hearted and game for anything, a sister to be proud of. Georgia shouldn’t have been on board the plane that tragic day. She should have been with Chloe. She never should have begged to go along with their parents, until finally they caved in and agreed she could be a passenger on the trip. Georgia ought to be alive. If she had been, she’d have been doing amazing things with her life, not hiding away like Chloe. But Chloe was not Georgia. She thought back to the Chloe who made it through school and began working at the book store – a place she loved and where she’d felt comfortable. There’d been a spark of something in that Chloe and she might have managed to become stronger still if she hadn’t become so dependent on William. She thought of Nanny Olive’s card. Chloe could transform back into that person. She had to reach that point again, and writing this book would help her get there. That’s what made beginning the book all the more important.