‘When I met Maria I was in the middle of exams,’ he said, ‘working all hours at the hospital. I had no time for a relationship. I wasn’t looking for love – but the moment I saw her, I knew.’
Evie stared at him, astonished. She’d never heard him speak so openly – or without any hint of cynicism. ‘At first sight you knew you loved her?’
‘I knew she was the one, yes. My soulmate.’ The look in his eyes was one of unquestionable and unconditional love.
How romantic, she thought. And how tragic that his wife’s life had been so abruptly cut short. ‘How did you know?’
He reached for his glass and took a swig of water. His cashmere jumper clung to the solid lines of his shoulders and chest, and she saw muscles flex and tighten as he moved.
‘Because I was blown away. In that moment when I met her, it was as if everything else shrank and was of no importance any more. We were at a party, and she was talking about music. She was so knowledgeable and passionate about it – I could have listened to her all night. She was intelligent. Talented. Beautiful.’
Evie thought of the photo beside his bed: his wife had indeed been beautiful. That she was also talented and intelligent came as no surprise. Zara had been the same, and her death had left a gaping hole in the lives of all those she’d left behind.
‘Wow.’ She stared at him. How romantic. And how unexpected coming from this abrupt, blunt-talking man.
What would it feel like to meet somebody and be swept off your feet like that? To feel such instant and overwhelming attraction? Her and Tim’s story had been nowhere near as dramatic. They had known each other as children but hadn’t seen each other for a few years when one day she bumped into him at a summer party. He took her number and hit her with a charm offensive. It had been exciting … but not passionate. They’d dated a few times, and it felt natural – inevitable – when, before long, they became a couple. After all, she’d known him all her life and his parents were like family.
Yet now she realised she’d hardly known him at all. Beneath his smooth-talking and seductive good looks had lurked a selfish snake. She hadn’t seen it because she’d been too busy worrying that she was the problem.
‘She was so perfect,’ Jake went on, ‘that I didn’t think she would even notice me. When she did, I was bowled over. I bought a ring the next day and took it with me on our first date.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘An engagement ring?’
He nodded. ‘I didn’t give it to her until later – I didn’t want to scare her off – but I knew.’ He sucked in air. ‘I knew I’d never felt like that about anyone else …’
‘I heard lots of engagement stories when I worked in the jeweller’s, but I never heard of a man buying a ring before the first date.’ She stared at him. It was difficult to marry up this romantic gesture with the bitter cynic she’d met here that night of the snowstorm. ‘So, you believe in love at first sight, then?’
‘I believe we all have a soulmate, yes.’ His head dipped and she glimpsed the desolation in his eyes. His grief suddenly filled the kitchen, thickening the air. It was so palpable, she felt it too and her heart twisted with sympathy for him.
‘It gets easier,’ she said softly. ‘You just need to give it time.’
She knew from first-hand experience how the passing of time eased the pain. Now, although she still missed her, she was able to think about Zara and smile.
‘No,’ he said definitively. His back straightened. ‘My feelings will never change. I’ll never love anyone the way I loved Maria. She was the love of my life and always will be.’
Distractedly, he reached into the collar of his sweater and pulled out a chain. Threaded onto it was a slim band of gold. His wedding ring, Evie guessed. Not platinum, not white gold, not even expensive gold by the look of it – just a simple plain ring that symbolised his commitment to a woman who was no longer here. She tried to swallow but found she had a lump in her throat.
‘What happened?’ Evie asked softly.
He pushed his empty plate away.
‘Brain tumour.’ His voice was rough with pain.
Evie had the urge to reach out and touch his arm, but something stopped her. He was her client, remember. And there was something untouchable about him. Despite his passionate words, his demeanour was like a shell around him, shutting everyone out. ‘They couldn’t operate? Remove it?’
Something flickered in his eyes and, for a second, he looked as if she’d hurt him. Then a curtain fell, and his expression frosted over. ‘No. She died only a few weeks after they diagnosed it.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She knew how hard it was to lose someone unexpectedly, without any warning or time to prepare. For months after Zara’s death Evie had found herself picking up her phone to call her sister – before she remembered Zara was gone.
He shrugged. The stony expression was back and she realised, with a jolt, that it wasn’t disapproval, as she’d first thought when she met him. She’d compared him with Tim for being obnoxious and haughty, but now she saw that the deep lines that dug into his brow and the haunted look in his eyes were symptoms of his grief. Heartache for the love he’d lost.
He picked up their plates and carried them round to the sink. They clattered loudly as he stacked them in the dishwasher, and Smoke opened one eye at the sudden commotion. Evie followed Jake’s lead and helped, passing him the pan and the chopping board, and wiping down the worktop. She watched him surreptitiously and noticed how his movements had become slow and weighted. He carried his grief like a heavy overcoat. It must be exhausting. It must be lonely.
‘People tell me I should have moved on by now …’ he said suddenly.
Evie stopped, cloth in hand. She watched as he raked a hand through his hair and his features twisted with anguish.
‘… and I wish I could,’ he finished wearily.
She put the cloth down, choosing her words carefully. ‘It’s not that easy. These things happen in their own time.’
His gaze lifted, met hers and held. And in his eyes she saw his pain and fear. ‘What if it doesn’t? What if it will always be like this?’
Back home in her cottage, Evie switched on the lights, lit the log fire, and settled down with a hot drink and her sewing, a new quilt made up of brightly coloured triangles that radiated out from the centre. The pattern was called Beacon of Hope. The sound of Dorothy’s television next door was so loud it permeated the thick stone walls, but Evie didn’t mind. As she spooned the marshmallows from her hot chocolate, she thought about Jake Hartwood. Her mind was haunted by his tragic story and the sorrow she’d seen in his eyes when he’d spoken about his wife.
‘I hope that from now on you won’t feel you have to run away next time you see me,’ he’d said, as she left.
‘I won’t,’ she’d promised, unsure why she felt a curious buzzing in her veins.
It must be the shock of having heard him divulge such intimate information, she’d told herself, yet that didn’t explain why she hadn’t been able to meet his gaze.
She picked up her sewing and switched on the television, but she wasn’t paying much attention to the programme about polar bears. Instead, she looked around her, taking in the wicker heart strung from the back of the door and the patchwork wall-hanging she’d embroidered with sequins and beads so it sparkled in the firelight, and she counted her blessings that she could call this cosy cottage home. When she’d first moved in she’d held back with the decoration, knowing that Tim would have criticised her choices as tacky and twee, lacking in good taste. Then, little by little, she’d added a lamp here, a cushion there, a picture frame – until finally she’d decided that this was her home, and she could decorate it as she wanted. She could leave her sewing machine out and there was no one to complain about the clutter, nobody to criticise. It had taken her a little while, but now she was free of Tim’s influence. She’d arrived in Willowbrook heartbroken and alone, but now she loved her independence.
And listening to Jake speak abo
ut his wife, she knew her feelings for Tim had never been that strong.
Yes, he’d hurt her, but she didn’t miss him. She wasn’t pining for him the way Jake was for Maria. In fact, she was certain she was better off without him.
The buzz of her phone interrupted her thoughts. Natasha’s number flashed up and Evie answered straight away.
‘Have you forgiven me?’ Natasha asked.
Evie smiled. ‘I thought you were coming to help me!’
‘I know, but it would have taken me much longer to get there and he’s really not that bad. I don’t know why you two started off on the wrong foot.’
‘I do,’ Evie said quietly. ‘At least, I do now – since he told me tonight. He explained that the first night I met him was the anniversary of his wife’s death. He’d come up to the Old Hall to be alone. And then I turned up.’
‘Ah.’
And suddenly it all made sense: how drunk he’d been, how hostile when he discovered he wasn’t alone. It was difficult now to maintain her opinion of him as rude and antisocial, because she understood. On the anniversary of Zara’s death she always kept herself to herself. It was difficult to be around people, difficult to explain the complex emotions that the day awoke.
‘He invited me to stay for supper by way of apology,’ she told Natasha.
‘Did he?’
She could hear the smile in her friend’s voice but chose to ignore it. ‘And he talked about Maria.’
‘His wife?’
‘Yes.’
‘Luc said he never mentions her. What did he say?’
I’ll never stop loving Maria. She was the love of my life and always will be.
‘Oh, Nat, it’s heart-breaking how much he still loves her.’ She thought of him alone in that big house, with only Smoke and his grief for company. He isolated himself and kept his distance from others, and he could be abrupt and rude. But now Evie knew why, she couldn’t help but feel sympathy.
‘Sounds like you two had a real heart-to-heart. You’re not mad at me for calling him, then?’
‘No, of course not. Turns out he’s not the ogre I thought he was.’
‘And he didn’t have to cut your hair?’
Evie remembered how gentle his fingers had been as he’d worked to free her, and goose-bumps touched the back of her neck. ‘No, he didn’t.’
‘Good. Well, I’m glad everything was all right in the end.’
‘It was.’ She felt privileged that he’d divulged so much to her about his loss and his feelings for his wife. And he’d made her promise she wouldn’t avoid him in future. There was nothing to stop them being friends.
And if she brought a little sunshine into his life, it might make a small but important difference.
Jake tugged at the lead, but the dog refused to budge. ‘Dammit, Smoke, what’s the matter with you?’
It wasn’t the snow that was bothering the dog because the roads and pavements around the village green had been cleared. Not that Smoke minded the snow when they walked in the hills, anyway.
‘Come on, boy. You’ve had a good walk. Now we need to get home.’ Jake gave him a reassuring pat, then pulled him gently by the collar, but Smoke gave him a withering look. ‘Okay, we’ll stop for a rest, then. Though I must say you could have chosen a quieter spot for it.’
The moment he relaxed his hold on the lead, Smoke set off towards the high street, pulling him along. It was all Jake could do to keep up with the stubborn animal. ‘Smoke, you’re going the wrong way,’ he muttered. ‘Where are you taking me? Ah, I see,’ he said, as the Button Hole came into view and understanding dawned.
What was it about Evie Miller that his dog simply couldn’t resist? She wasn’t difficult to spot. Wearing a dotty red dress, she was a lantern of brightness in the stripped white window as she put up a new display. She flicked a side plait over her shoulder and reached up to steady an enormous Christmas bauble. It was only as he got closer that he realised the dots on her dress were buttons of all different colours and sizes sewn on to the red fabric. Smoke barked and bounded forwards, yanking Jake along, too. Evie looked up and waved.
Jake’s mouth curved. He had to give it to her, there was something alluring about her quirky character, something intriguing. Her dimpled smile and upbeat nature were a breath of fresh air. Somehow she made the sky seem bigger, the sun more dazzling, the world more colourful. Her eyes seemed to smile right at him.
And when he’d seen her with her ex and her parents, it had stirred unfamiliar emotions in him. He’d gritted his teeth at the way they’d spoken to her, he’d been moved to step forward and intervene. Why?
He wasn’t sure. His usual policy was to keep to himself. He certainly didn’t make a habit of baring his soul the way he had over supper last night. But Evie had made it so easy. Maybe because she’d lost her sister and she understood. The clouds in her eyes had spoken volumes.
Still, it had been a mistake to open up as he had. The consequence was that sleep had eluded him, and he’d spent last night reliving the memories of when he’d first met Maria.
Breathless, he arrived outside the Button Hole where Smoke stopped at Evie’s feet, panting and wagging his tail. Jake nodded a greeting, and while she fussed over his dog, he bit back the bitter blend of nostalgia and despair. Oh, Maria. Will this ever get any easier?
Evie had been changing her window display when she saw Smoke tugging Jake down the street towards her shop. She giggled because the Dalmatian was straining at the lead so hard that Jake was struggling to keep up. She went out to say hello. The air was icy despite the winter sun, and the sky was a flat sheet of cobalt blue.
‘I must apologise for my dog,’ said Jake, when they reached her. ‘He’s decided he can’t pass the end of this street without visiting your shop.’
A few days ago, she would have ducked out of sight to avoid Jake, but since last night she was no longer intimidated by him. In fact, she’d enjoyed his company. She liked his dry sense of humour and the way his eyes sparked when she teased him.
She laughed, glad that she’d remembered to refill the bowl of water by the door, and stroked the excited Dalmatian. ‘That’s wonderful! Hello, Smoke, and I’m really happy to see you too.’ Straightening, she added, ‘I wish I had more loyal customers like him.’
‘Don’t kid yourself that he’s interested in sewing. He just wants your dog treats.’
She hesitated, then said, ‘I was about to make a cup of tea. Why don’t you come in?’
‘Thank you, but I can’t leave Smoke out in the cold too long.’
‘Ah.’ She had to give it to him: he might not be very sociable, but he really cared about that dog. ‘It is cold, isn’t it? Beautiful weather for walking, though. Bright and clear, with snow everywhere, and that lovely smell of winter …’
‘Winter has a smell?’ His raised brow and disparaging look would once have made her shrink, but not any more. Now she saw the gleam in his eye, the hint of humour in his expression. And it made her skin tingle.
‘You know, cinnamon and mixed spice and log fires, the scent of pine trees, and oranges, and fruitcake baking.’ He was looking at her blankly, but she was on a roll now. She hugged herself and couldn’t help but smile as she went on, ‘I love this time of year. It’s all about soft wool sweaters and crackling log fires and …’
He held his hand up. ‘Please stop. I’m worried you’re going to break into song about the hills being alive with the sound of music.’
She laughed again. They stepped aside to let a couple pass who had just emerged from the bakery next door.
‘I take it you like Christmas, then?’ Jake asked drily.
‘Winter,’ she corrected him. ‘I love winter.’ Her smile faded. She didn’t look forward to Christmas any more. Not since Zara had gone. Now it was a time when pain was felt more acutely, when empty chairs at the dining table highlighted those who were absent, and her parents’ voices had a false edge as they tried to fake a cheerfulness they didn’t feel.
Smoke cocked his head, his dark eyes trained on her, as if he were listening intently too.
‘But?’ Jake prompted.
‘I would quite happily miss out Christmas Day,’ she said honestly, feeling dread at the prospect of going home to the pretence put on by her reduced family. ‘You’ve met my parents. When I go home, I spend the whole time feeling I don’t measure up and I’ve disappointed them with the choices I’ve made. Or not made.’
‘Don’t go home, then,’ he said, with a shrug.
Surely even he, Mr Antisocial himself, could see how impossible that was. ‘I have to. Family is family, and – and I’m all they’ve got.’
‘You don’t have to do anything. You’re a grown woman.’
‘We all have obligations and duties. I couldn’t not go home unless I had a good reason.’
‘Such as?’
‘I don’t know. This is all academic, anyway. Christmas is coming and there’s no avoiding it. How about you? What are you doing for the holidays?’
‘Nothing.’
She felt a pang at the idea of him alone in that enormous house. ‘No family coming to visit?’
‘No.’ His mouth tightened and a muscle pulsed in his jaw.
Evie hated to think of anyone being alone at Christmas. Surely that would be even worse than spending it with her parents. ‘Do you have any family?’
‘Two sisters.’
‘What about them?’
‘They’ll do their own thing. They know I don’t do festivities.’
Ah. So, it was his choice to be alone. ‘You don’t do festivities? Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ She shook her head, teasing him. ‘You’re the Grinch himself.’
He didn’t deign to answer that, but she was sure she saw a gleam of humour flash through his eyes before he said to his dog, ‘Come on, Smoke. We’d better be heading back.’
Evie felt a tug of concern. She understood why he chose to isolate himself, but it couldn’t be healthy to spend so much time alone with his grief, could it?
The Christmas Holiday: The perfect heart-warming read full of festive magic Page 11