Snowflakes and Cinnamon Swirls at the Winter Wonderland

by Heidi Swain

  ‘I thought you were at work,’ I stated when she finally came in.

  ‘They let me finish early,’ she told me, rolling her eyes when she spotted the plates. ‘Did you remind him there’s going to be a buffet?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said, ‘but this one’s for you. Just don’t let him see it.’

  ‘Thanks, love.’ She smiled gratefully. ‘I haven’t had a bite since breakfast.’

  ‘Guess who I bumped into in the chippy.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Gavin,’ I grinned. ‘He’s finished early as well. He’s just popped to the shop so he’ll be here in a minute.’

  ‘Well, I should think so,’ said Mum as she began packing the buttered roll with chips. ‘This is going to be a night to remember.’

  I didn’t get a single word of thanks from my father when I presented him with his early extra dinner on a tray and plonked it on his lap.

  ‘You were gone a while,’ he snapped, waving me out of the way of the television.

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  ‘They’re skimping on the chips again,’ he grumbled, when he finally looked at his plate. ‘And what am I supposed to do with one tiny roll?’

  One thing The Codfather never did was skimp on portion sizes, but I wasn’t going to correct him or let him know that I’d given some to Mum, who had been working her backside off long before he had even rolled out of bed.

  ‘Gavin will be here in a minute,’ I said instead. ‘He’s got off work early and gone to get you some beers.’

  ‘You’ve landed on your feet with that one, girl,’ Dad muttered, sounding slightly mollified. ‘He could have had any woman he wanted in this town – though I suppose he still can.’

  I ignored his final comment. I may have heard rumours about the occasional indiscretion, but given that they came from one of Gavin’s ex-girlfriends I chose not to believe them.

  ‘So, you want to make sure you don’t do anything to mess things up.’

  ‘No danger of that,’ said my fine fiancé as he popped his head into the room and passed me the chilled cans. ‘Your Hayley’s one in a million, Mr Hurren. You could say I’m the one who’s landed right side up,’ he added with a wink in my direction.

  ‘Yes, well,’ said Dad as he pulled the tab on his first lager of the day, ‘I don’t know about that, but after the business with that art teacher back in school, I’m just grateful to get her off our hands.’

  ‘Talking of your old art teacher,’ said Gavin as he made himself comfortable on the bed to watch me get dried and dressed after my bath, ‘have you done any more drawing this week?’

  When Gavin and I had first got together, his mates had only remembered me for my notorious year eleven reputation, whereas my scorching scaffolder had asked about my talent with a paintbrush.

  ‘Your work was phenomenal,’ he had said, sounding genuinely awed. ‘You won the end of year show three years on the bounce, didn’t you? You must be even better now.’

  I was flattered that he remembered, but I didn’t tell him I’d packed my paints away along with my memories of those final few weeks at school before the summer holidays had even started.

  ‘Are you seriously telling us that you can remember her etchings,’ teased Gavin’s so-called friends, ‘but you can’t remember her getting knocked up by a teacher old enough to be her father?’

  I had shrugged off their spiteful comments and Gavin soon shut them up when we properly started going out, but he wouldn’t let me forget what I was missing out on.

  In an unguarded moment I had told him that, for as long as I could remember, I had been happiest when sketching, designing and painting, and how I once had plans to study art after my GCSEs and dreamt of making it to art college after that. He said it was a shame things hadn’t worked out that way, but just because life had taught me a few harsh lessons, there was no reason to deny myself the pleasure of picking up a paintbrush again.

  Once he knew how I felt, he wouldn’t let the subject go, and one wet Sunday afternoon he helped me dig out my easel from the loft and I hadn’t looked back since. Not that I had told anyone else about it. Not even Anna.

  ‘I’ve managed a couple of rough drawings,’ I told Gavin now, blocking out all thoughts of the art teacher whose timely desertion had left me with little more than blank pages and an incredibly guilty conscience. ‘And I finished the one of the dogs curled up in front of the Aga.’

  Floss and Suki, the Wynthorpe Hall pooches, were perfect sitters. They could snooze for hours as long as their bellies were full. I had made some quick preliminary sketches when I was on my own with them, and I took a couple of snaps on my phone to work from in private after that.

  ‘Can I see them?’

  ‘Maybe later,’ I said, nodding at the clock on the nightstand. ‘We really need to get on.’

  ‘Are you two nearly ready?’ Mum hollered up the stairs the second I’d finished my sentence. ‘It wouldn’t hurt to get there early and check everything’s set up.’

  ‘We’ll be going in a minute!’ I called back, pulling my new dress over my head and turning around so Gavin could help with the zip.

  I still wasn’t convinced it was the right thing to wear, but I was out of time.

  ‘The sooner we get our own place the better,’ he muttered.

  ‘I know,’ I said, twisting around to scrutinise my reflection and wondering whether to go for heels or flats. ‘Catherine offered us a room up at the hall again today.’

  ‘That little cottage would be better.’

  ‘Gatekeeper’s, you mean?’

  ‘That’s the one,’ Gavin smiled. ‘That would be the perfect little love nest for a newly engaged couple.’

  ‘That it would,’ I agreed, ‘but it’s already taken. Or it will be soon.’

  Gavin didn’t say anything.

  ‘We’ll be all right squeezed in here together though, won’t we?’ I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck and thinking about how romantic it was going to be to wake up next to him every morning. ‘I’ve heard that two can live as cheaply as one.’

  ‘Not with someone like your father draining our resources.’

  ‘There is that,’ I sighed, the idyll quickly being replaced by an image of my father sprawled out on the sofa, devouring his body weight in peanuts, ‘but I can’t face leaving Mum.’

  ‘I know you can’t,’ Gavin sighed, ‘but it’s got to happen sometime.’

  ‘Just not yet,’ I said, kissing him lightly on the lips.

  ‘All right,’ he smiled, holding me at arm’s length and nodding in approval as he took in my new dress. ‘And I don’t suppose it really matters where we are, does it? As long as we’re together.’

  ‘Exactly,’ I agreed.

  ‘I love you, Hayley Hurren-soon-to-be-Garford,’ he laughed.

  ‘And I love you, too.’ I laughed back.

  Chapter 3

  I had made a point of asking Catherine and Angus not to come up to town for the party. I knew it was going to end up being a raucous affair and not their sort of celebration at all. After initially shrugging off my concerns and insisting that missing out wouldn’t be right, Catherine sensed my discomfiture and agreed to stay away, but she made me promise that Gavin and I would join her and Angus for dinner at the hall the following week. The rest of the clan were coming, but none of them were going to be able to make it until the evening was in full swing.

  ‘Anna and I have a conference call at seven,’ Jamie had told me earlier in the day, ‘but we’ll be along with Molly the second it’s over.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ I had told him, because I didn’t mind at all. Running the charity had proved to be full-on, and regular working hours had flown out of the window for my friends.

  ‘There’s no rush,’ I reassured him. ‘I wouldn’t put it past Jim to call for a lock-in, so there’ll be plenty of time to toast the happy couple.’

  ‘Dorothy and I will look in together,’ Mick had later explained when we were on our
own. ‘It’s a shame Gavin couldn’t pick you up from work today. The pair of you should be getting ready and arriving together. I’m still annoyed that he thinks it’s acceptable to put a drinking session with his mates before you.’

  Like me, Mick had heard the rumours about Gavin so he, more than anyone else at the hall, was aware of the wide boy reputation Gavin had earned for himself during the last few years. I still hadn’t managed to convince him that my fiancé had turned over a new leaf, but I hoped the fact that Gavin had decided to put me before pre-drinks would settle some of his fears.

  As I walked into town with Gavin on my arm, him sober as a judge and with eyes only for me, I couldn’t help wishing that Mick could be there to see it for himself.

  The Mermaid, beautifully dressed for the occasion and with a fire burning merrily in the grate, looked both warm and welcoming, in spite of the underlying whiff of egg.

  ‘Evening, you two,’ said Jim, rushing round from behind the bar to relieve us of our coats. ‘Is this all right for the pair of you?’

  ‘It’s perfect,’ I told him. ‘Thank you, Jim. I know how much work you and Evelyn have put into all this.’

  ‘And look at the size of these sandwiches,’ laughed Gavin, pointing at a platter packed with sarnies large enough to satisfy even my father’s perpetually rumbling guts.

  ‘They were the wife’s idea,’ chuckled Jim. ‘She reckoned some of the guests might not appreciate the delicate light bites some of us more refined folk favour.’

  We all laughed and I moved further along the table before turning to admire the exquisite banner that was hanging above the bar.

  ‘Where did that come from?’ I asked.

  ‘Lizzie at the Cherry Tree Café,’ Jim beamed. ‘She dropped it off earlier. Do you like it?’

  The intricately painted artwork stretched from one side of the bar to the other and had mine and Gavin’s names cleverly entwined.

  ‘It’s absolutely gorgeous,’ I sniffed, as hot tears pricked the back of my eyes. ‘I wasn’t expecting anything as pretty as this.’

  Gavin came and stood next to me again. He picked up my hand and kissed it.

  ‘If you weren’t so secretive about your talents,’ he whispered in my ear, ‘you could have made something like that yourself.’

  I knew he was right, but I couldn’t have bettered Lizzie’s efforts. I was just about to say as much when the pub door was thrown open and Jemma, the Cherry Tree Café owner, reversed in, carrying what looked like a huge cake box.

  ‘I’m sorry I’m late!’ she shouted. ‘It’s been manic today. Customers are already asking about the Christmas menu and festive afternoon teas, so we’ve been completely snowed under.’

  She carefully passed the box over to Jim and whipped off her coat.

  ‘No pun intended,’ she added, with a smile as she abandoned the coat and took the box back again. ‘Seriously, though,’ she gushed, ‘I can’t believe Christmas is almost here. It only feels like five minutes since we were packing the decorations up from last year. Now,’ she added, turning to me and Gavin and sounding slightly calmer as she took a breath, ‘where would you like it?’

  I couldn’t answer her because I didn’t know what it was.

  ‘Evelyn has left a space in the middle,’ said Jim, stepping in. ‘Pride of place, right near the front.’

  I felt a bit of a spare part just standing there, but I had no idea what was going on. I looked at Gavin and he pulled me closer. Given the smug expression he was wearing, I guessed he knew exactly what was happening.

  ‘I hope you like it, Hayley,’ said Jemma, reverently lifting the lid to reveal the prettiest engagement cake I had ever seen. It was decorated in much the same style as Lizzie’s banner and looked almost too good to eat. ‘Gavin wanted it to be a surprise, although, to be honest, I thought he would have let the cat out of the bag by now.’

  ‘Oh,’ I gasped, squeezing my arms tighter around Gavin’s waist as she carefully arranged the cake in the gap among the cocktail sausages and other things on sticks. ‘It’s beautiful!’

  ‘I had a feeling you’d like it,’ said Gavin, proudly.

  ‘I love it,’ I told him.

  Jemma let out a sigh of relief and stood back to admire her handiwork. I hadn’t been expecting a bespoke cake and felt thrilled that Gavin had gone to the trouble of sorting one out. The style and decorations were perfect and, again, I couldn’t wait to sing my fiancé’s praises to Mick. If this gesture didn’t quash his concerns that my betrothed was still a bit of a playboy at heart, then nothing would.

  ‘Do you mind if I give you the bill now?’ Jemma continued, retrieving her coat and pulling out an envelope from the pocket. ‘I know I’ll forget later and you said you wanted to pay straightaway, didn’t you, Gavin?’

  ‘I did,’ he nodded, whipping the envelope out of sight before I had a chance to look at it. ‘I’ll call around to the café first thing tomorrow to settle up. And the same goes for the buffet bill, Jim,’ he added.

  I looked back at the table and tried to do a quick calculation of what the total amount we’d be shelling out for the evening would be. It was doubtless going to make a fair dent in our meagre savings.

  ‘Hey now, don’t look so worried,’ Gavin told me as I let out a long sigh. ‘It’s all in hand.’

  Jemma and Jim moved a discreet distance away.

  ‘But this lot won’t come cheap, will it?’ I frowned, biting my lip. ‘And we’ve only just started saving—’

  ‘Hey,’ cut in Gavin, as he stuffed Jemma’s envelope deeper into his pocket. ‘Listen here, Hayley. We can always earn more money, can’t we?’

  ‘I guess,’ I shrugged.

  ‘But tonight,’ he said, reaching for my hands, ‘celebrating our engagement, well, this is a one-off.’

  He was right.

  ‘And I want it to be special,’ he smiled. ‘I want this to be a night we’ll never forget.’

  ‘Of course,’ I smiled back as I heard the pub door open and our guests begin to arrive. ‘So do I.’

  I was amazed to discover that Mum had managed to get Dad off the sofa, into a clean shirt and out of the house with what appeared to be minimal fuss.

  ‘I’ll go and collect the buffet bill from Jim now,’ said Gavin, kissing my cheek as he let me go. ‘Why don’t you find your parents somewhere to sit?’

  ‘Hayley, I wasn’t sure about that dress,’ said Mum, looking me up and down as we bagged her and Dad a table. ‘I didn’t think it would suit you, but, actually, it fits the new you very well.’

  ‘The new me?’ I questioned, trying not to feel too taken aback by such an overt compliment about my outfit. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘She means you’ve gone soft,’ said Dad bluntly.

  ‘That’s not what I mean at all,’ tutted Mum, shaking her head.

  I looked at her and raised my eyebrows.

  ‘Well, I suppose it sort of is,’ she shrugged. ‘Since that girl Anna arrived on the scene, you’ve been changing.’

  Not all that long ago I would have jumped on that suggestion and stamped it out, but Mum was right. Having watched Anna and Jamie fall in love and seeing for myself first-hand how a relationship could grow into a solid partnership, I had dropped my defences low enough to allow love into my own life. For years I had stuck to my ‘guys are for fun’ mantra, but now I was engaged to Gavin and had somehow secured a fairy-tale romance for myself. Maybe I hadn’t gone soft as my dad had suggested, I’d just grown up.

  ‘Well, I hope I’ve changed for the better,’ I began to say, but Dad cut me off.

  ‘You want to be careful,’ he warned, ‘you’re getting ideas above your station, still working at that place. You need to remember, girl, you’re one of us, not one of them.’

  God help me, I thought, but I didn’t say it. It wasn’t all that long ago that Mum would have agreed with him, but I wasn’t the only one who’d changed; her attitude towards Wynthorpe Hall and the family who lived there had too.<
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  ‘I’ve told you before,’ Dad droned on, making for the bar, ‘you’re lucky to have found a man willing to marry you after what you did at school. You want to keep hold of him, not scare him off by putting on airs and graces.’

  ‘Ignore him,’ hissed Mum, sensing I was about to retaliate. ‘Don’t give him the satisfaction of a row. Not tonight. He’s only saying all this to wind you up. You know how he loves to make a scene.’

  She was right, of course. I bit back my blunt retort and took a few deep breaths instead. The new Hayley might have been slightly softer around the edges but where my dad was concerned, the old version was still poised to strike when provoked.

  ‘Have you lost that fella of yours already?’ quizzed my auntie Jenny when she spotted Mum and me sitting alone at the table. ‘That’s not a very good start, Hayley, is it?’

  ‘He’s gone to talk to Jim,’ I told her, looking across to where he had been standing by the bar.

  There was no sign of him now, though, and the place was starting to fill up.

  ‘Never mind her,’ said Dad, dismissing me and handing Auntie Jenny half a pint of Guinness, which was her favourite tipple. ‘It’s a free bar for the first hour, Jen. Make the most of it.’

  ‘It isn’t free, Dad,’ I tutted. ‘Gavin and I are picking up the tab.’

  ‘Same thing,’ he shrugged.

  ‘Yes,’ I snapped, ‘I suppose it is, but bear in mind that, the more that gets drunk, the more we have to shell out, which means less in the family pot for the next few weeks.’

  It took a few seconds for the penny to drop, but he got there in the end and looked as if he bitterly regretted going around telling everyone to drink up because it was on the house.

  ‘Here he is!’ shouted my aunt, before Dad had a chance to start snatching back glasses, ‘my fabulous nephew-in-law to be!’

  She sounded as if she’d downed more than half a pint.

  ‘Looks like someone’s pre-drinks got out of hand,’ Gavin whispered, making me giggle as he came and stood next to me.

  ‘And talking of pre-drinks,’ I said, nodding over to where half a dozen of his mates had just fallen through the pub door. ‘Go and have a word, will you?’ I begged. ‘I don’t want them getting out of hand.’