Snowflakes and Cinnamon Swirls at the Winter Wonderland

by Heidi Swain

  ‘And you felt compelled to draw something?’

  I nodded. That had been about the size of it. Once the thought had been planted so firmly back in my head I had been powerless to resist it. I looked at the pictures I had drawn of the hall during the summer and realised that I didn’t actually equate them with the painful memories that were tied up with the work I had produced at school at all, but that was probably because they were so different.

  My style had changed. A lot.

  Apparently, during the time I hadn’t been physically exercising my creative muscle, it had still been getting a thorough mental workout, and my eye now focused on different details, quirky little things that stood out, which I had managed to capture. Some of it looked and felt completely alien to me because it was so different, but I liked it. Not having to stick to a curriculum had given me more freedom to develop and explore different subjects. I supposed, without being conscious of it, I had developed my own style.

  ‘And you plan to carry on?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ I said, jumping back up and rubbing my hands down my jeans, trying to brush the suggestion away. ‘Definitely not.’

  Angus looked surprised.

  ‘There’s no point,’ I went on. ‘Maybe one day, in the future, perhaps,’ I added, trying to shut him up. ‘When I’m retired.’

  ‘But no one retires here,’ Angus laughed, ‘you know that.’

  ‘Well, whatever.’ I shrugged. ‘There’s no point even thinking about it now, is there? There’s always so much to do here that I don’t have time for any of this. I should never have started again. It’s too difficult. It’s all wrapped up with what happened at school and—’

  I could hear the words coming out of my mouth, trying to justify my reasons for stopping again, but there was a part of my brain, the same part that had fired up when I was telling Anna why I was packing up my pencils, that was even less willing to accept the old arguments, now. Especially as I had only seconds before acknowledged – mentally at least – that what I had drawn this summer wasn’t wrapped up in the past at all. I really didn’t associate my new drawings with Gavin, so I could hardly pretend that every time I drew something new my personal life was headed for a man-shaped disaster.

  Or could I?

  If I could convince Angus that I thought my art was the catalyst behind every bad thing that happened to me, and that, consequently, it always ended up making me feel utterly miserable, then perhaps he’d let me off the hook. Perhaps he’d let me pack it all away and look for someone else to design his precious Winter Wonderland map and posters.

  ‘Hayley, I want you to draw the map for the Winter Wonderland and design the posters and adverts,’ he interrupted, cutting across my excuses and not even giving me a chance to lock and load my faux theory.

  ‘But I can’t,’ I told him, feeling suddenly hot.

  ‘In this style,’ he added, picking up one of the new drawings.

  ‘No way. I can’t do it. I don’t have the time.’

  ‘I’m your boss, I’ll give you the time.’

  My brain was scrabbling for reasons to turn him down.

  ‘You can’t afford me,’ I blurted out.

  ‘You aren’t going to charge me.’

  ‘But what if something bad happens?’ I wheedled. ‘It’s always worked out that way in the past. Look at what’s just happened with Gavin . . .’

  ‘Don’t be so ridiculous,’ Angus tutted. ‘He wasn’t unfaithful because you’d been sketching! He did that because he has no morals and even less self-control.’

  I bit my lip. He was right. It was ridiculous and Gavin was a guy without principles. My make-believe theory had crashed and burned before it was even launched.

  ‘Well, in that case,’ I snapped, losing my temper a little, ‘how about, I just don’t want to do it?’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  He was right about that as well because, ever since the moment the map and posters had been mentioned down in the kitchen, I had been planning designs out in my head, right down to the last detail. I even had a festive theme in mind.

  ‘Can I at least think about it?’ I begged, biting down harder on my lip.

  ‘I’d rather you just got on with it.’

  ‘But it isn’t as simple as that.’

  ‘Hayley,’ he sighed, ‘it’s as simple as you want it to be.’

  That was Angus’s mantra when it came to pretty much any challenge he faced in life. Even those put forward by his patient and long-suffering wife. Perhaps I should tear a leaf out of his book and just get on with it? But, of course, the big question was, had I reached a point where I felt I deserved to take up the one thing in my life that made me really happy again?

  And not only that, I had to consider, that if I took this challenge on I wouldn’t just be secretly scribbling away for a few snatched minutes and then hiding the results. This project would be making its way out into the world, possibly travelling even further than the reaches of Wynbridge, and there was every chance that folk would come to know that I was the face behind the drawing board.

  ‘And by the way,’ Angus added without a thought for my emotional inner turmoil, ‘I’m not sure I should be telling you this right now, but as he’s already come up in conversation . . .’

  My stomach lurched in fear of what he was going to come out with next.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The so-called scorching scaffolder.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘He came and found me at the bonfire party last night.’

  ‘What?’ I choked. ‘Why? What the hell did he want?’

  ‘To pay back the money I loaned him.’

  ‘No way!’

  I couldn’t believe it. Gavin was always skint. Where on earth would he have found the money to do that?

  ‘Way,’ said Angus, trying to grasp the youthful vernacular.

  I narrowed my eyes, my brain in bits.

  ‘Cash or cheque?’ I asked.

  If it was a cheque it was bound to bounce.

  ‘Cash,’ Angus smiled, ‘every last penny, and he asked me to tell you that he was sorry for being such a . . . well, let’s just say he said to tell you he was sorry.’

  I didn’t give two hoots about his apology, especially after how he had behaved the last time we’d met, when Gabe had to step in, but it was a relief to know he’d paid Angus back in ready notes. Assuming they weren’t counterfeit.

  ‘Was he on his own?’ I couldn’t resist asking, my mind tracking back to the text that had interrupted my moment with Gabe, which I still hadn’t read.

  ‘I think so,’ Angus shrugged. ‘And he didn’t stay long.’

  Back in the kitchen, Dorothy was still doling out coffee and warm croissants and no one had budged from their seats.

  ‘Is there literally no work to do around here today?’ I tutted as I pulled my phone out of my jeans’ pocket and plonked back down in my chair.

  ‘Apparently not,’ smiled Catherine.

  ‘Well,’ said Anna, cutting to the chase. ‘Are you going to do it?’

  She sounded exasperated and I intended to keep her in that emotional state for as long as possible. Molly, on the other hand, was stirring her coffee and gazing into space, so tormenting her was not an option. There was a lot to be said for living in a dream world.

  ‘Yes,’ said Angus, ‘she is.’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘she isn’t.’

  ‘All right,’ Angus countered. ‘She’s going to think about it.’

  ‘Excellent,’ beamed Anna, rubbing her hands together and looking thoroughly impressed with herself.

  ‘Which literally means just that,’ I told her firmly. ‘I’m just going to mull it all over.’

  ‘Well, can you do it by the end of the day?’ asked Jamie, looking up from his notepad. ‘We need to crack on.’

  He carried on staring at me.

  ‘What?’ I frowned.

  ‘I just can’t believe that you’re an artist, Hayley.�
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  ‘And yet,’ I butted in, ‘I have no trouble at all believing that you’re a—’

  ‘My goodness,’ laughed Dorothy, fanning herself with a tea towel, ‘it’s just like old times.’

  I picked up my phone and opened Gavin’s message. My eyes scanned over the lines of text. I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting, but his words were as much of a surprise as his loan repayment. There was no boasting about the fact that he had come up with the money to put things right, and no lame attempt to justify his horrid behaviour, either in the gents’ loos or when we’d argued outside the pub.

  ‘What’s got you so engrossed?’ Anna asked when she spotted me scrolling back and shaking my head.

  ‘A text.’

  ‘Stating the obvious,’ she tutted, ‘who’s it from?’

  ‘None of your business,’ I said, slipping the phone back into my pocket.

  ‘It’s not from Gavin, is it?’ suggested Molly.

  She really did have an uncanny knack of putting her two pennies worth in when it was least needed.

  ‘Does she look upset?’ Anna cut in. ‘Is she on the verge of tears?’

  ‘Do you seriously think I’d risk ruining my eyeliner on him?’ I blinked back. ‘He’s hardly worth that, is he?’

  ‘I knew you looked different,’ said Dorothy, staring at my face. ‘You’ve totally gone back to your old look.’

  ‘And is that all right with you?’ I snapped.

  I was getting a bit fed up being the subject of so much attention.

  ‘I think it makes you look a bit hard,’ said Molly. ‘More like how you used to be.’

  ‘That’s because I am how I used to be,’ I told her, although now I wasn’t so sure that it was possible to completely shrug off something you’d tried on.

  From what I could make out, there seemed to be a tiny fragment, an indelible impression, that couldn’t be erased, even if you didn’t want it. Apparently, I was destined to carry a little of my softer self around, whether I liked it or not.

  ‘I should never have changed or even tried to be any different.’

  Had I not blurred my edges I was sure I wouldn’t have succumbed to squishy feelings about my new neighbour, and I would certainly have been more able to convince the Connellys that the artist formerly known as Hayley was no longer in residence.

  ‘So, is it from him then?’ asked Anna, who was determined to not give up just yet.

  ‘Is what from who?’

  ‘The text,’ she reiterated. ‘Is it from Gavin? Because if you really are determined not to let him get to you, then we’ll never be able to tell if he’s been back in touch, will we?’

  ‘But why would that matter?’

  ‘Because we love you,’ said Molly. ‘And we want to protect you.’

  ‘We don’t want to see you get hurt again,’ Anna said softly.

  ‘And we need to know if he’s going to turn up so Gabe can set Bran on him,’ added Molly.

  I’d forgotten Gabe was still here, sitting quietly at the end of the table and taking it all in.

  ‘You’d be better off setting Suki on him,’ he smiled, affectionately looking down at his gently snoring giant of a dog. ‘If it’s fire and fury you’re aiming for, I’d go for the tiniest dog with the biggest attitude.’

  We all laughed at that and I supposed they did have my best interests at heart.

  ‘Well,’ I said graciously, ‘thank you all. I appreciate your concern and can confirm that, yes, the text is from Gavin, but, no, we don’t need to worry about setting any of the dogs on him. He won’t be darkening our door again, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have any impact on me. He won’t be hurting me again because I won’t let him – or anyone else for that matter.’

  ‘But don’t forget to leave at least a little room in your heart for love, Hayley,’ said Molly dreamily.

  ‘Er, no,’ I told her. ‘I certainly won’t be letting my guard down again, thank you very much.’

  My thoughts skipped back to the traitorous way dancing with Gabe had made my heart thump and how I had already entertained the idea that if Mr I’m-not-interested-in-no-strings had an open spot in the serious relationship field then I might have been poised to put myself forward, but god help me if I admitted as much to this lot. Had they even just an inkling that it had crossed my mind, then they would have had Gabe and me tethered for life.

  ‘Are you really planning to stay unattached for ever?’ gasped Molly.

  ‘Yes,’ I told her lightly, ‘like I said before: fun? Yes. Commitment? No. Laughs? Yes. Love? No. Single? Yes. Attached? No.’

  Neither Molly nor Dorothy looked particularly impressed by my reinstated mantra, which was fine by me. That was the line I was outwardly sticking with. It was the one I wanted them to believe I was championing, but it was a shame Gabe was there to hear me trotting it out.

  ‘But look at me,’ said Anna, reaching for Jamie’s hand.

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘Well, not all that long ago I was single, married to my work and carrying around a whole heap of problems, but now, having let love in—’

  I had to stop her and her romantic heart right there.

  ‘But you’re forgetting,’ I said, pushing back my chair and standing up, ‘that whole heap of problems you were carrying around had been inflicted on you by circumstances and other people, whereas my bad memories and dubious reputation are all entirely of my own making.’

  My knees felt a little wobbly as I realised the carefree me I was so keen to present to the world had turned all solemn again and I was talking about a whole lot more than Gavin dropping his pants in The Mermaid, even if no one else around the table was aware of it.

  ‘And your point is?’

  ‘My point is, the space in my heart that you and Miss Molly over there would like to see filled up with love, unicorns and fluffy kittens is already taken by something I can’t even bring myself to think about right now, and there’ll never be room to squeeze a significant other in next to it.’

  ‘But you let Gavin in,’ Gabe reminded me.

  ‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘And look how that turned out.’

  Chapter 15

  Once everyone had eventually tracked back to and then exhausted the will-she-won’t-she scenario surrounding the design project for the Winter Wonderland and had gone off to do some work, I hung back to have a word with Catherine.

  ‘I have a favour to ask,’ I said to her, trying to convince myself that what I was about to ask wasn’t sneaky at all.

  ‘Ask away,’ she smiled.

  Considering the woman had just given me a permanent home to go with the job I loved and had then added on the possibility that, if I wanted to, I could properly pick up my old passion and do something worthwhile with it, my favour quota should have been all used up, but that was a classic example of Connelly generosity for you.

  ‘Well,’ I said, shuffling from one foot to the other, ‘I’ve been thinking that it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea for me to take a trip into town this week.’

  Truth be told, I hadn’t even entertained the idea of going anywhere near the place until Gavin’s text had landed but, I reasoned with myself, the old Hayley wouldn’t have shied away from a few wagging tongues, and there was now one unexpected loose end that needed firmly tying up.

  ‘I think that’s an excellent idea,’ Catherine agreed. ‘I know you went back the day you moved your things here, and that your last encounter with Gavin wasn’t particularly pleasant, but the longer you leave going out in public, the more difficult it’s bound to be for you.’

  ‘Exactly,’ I played along, ‘and I don’t want my absence from Wynbridge to become the focus of even more unwanted attention than it no doubt already is.’

  I knew it wouldn’t have taken long for tongues to start wagging beyond The Mermaid and I tried to convince both Catherine and myself that stopping them was my sole motivation for going back.

  ‘Quite,’ nodded Catherine, reaching for her
purse. ‘And it will be the perfect opportunity for you to collect some new art supplies.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ I said quickly. ‘I don’t need anything like that.’

  ‘I think you should treat yourself,’ she said firmly, thrusting a roll of notes into my hand. Clearly, she was going to be the one doing the treating. ‘If you decide to take on this project for Angus, and, believe me, it will be a real weight off my mind if you do, then it will be nice to make a fresh start with lovely new things, won’t it?’

  Now I didn’t think I had a choice in the matter. I would have to take the job on and, knowing the real reason behind my trip into town, I felt like even more of a snake in the grass. I was just about to come clean, but the chance was denied me.

  ‘Ah, Gabe,’ said Catherine as the man himself popped in to collect the scarf he had left hanging on the back of his chair. ‘Are you still planning to head into Wynbridge this morning?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, looking at the pair of us. ‘In about half an hour. Can I pick anything up for either of you?’

  ‘No,’ I said, shaking my head, ‘no, thank you.’

  ‘But you could give Hayley a lift,’ Catherine smiled. ‘She’s going to buy some new art supplies and hopefully quieten the gossips once and for all. The sooner she’s seen getting on with things the better, don’t you agree?’

  ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Gabe replied.

  ‘So,’ said Gabe, when we climbed into his truck, with Bran filling the back seat, ‘whose company did I have the pleasure of last night, then?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I frowned, looking over at him as I finished banging out a text that I knew wouldn’t have even a remote chance of leaving my outbox until we hit a decent signal hotspot, which would probably be halfway to town. ‘We were together last night, weren’t we?’

  ‘Well, yes,’ he said, ‘but was I with the old Hayley who you prefer and who everyone recognised around the breakfast table this morning, or the new Hayley, who I can’t help but think is a bit of a softie and not someone you like very much at all?’

  ‘Which do you think?’ I asked, batting my lashes in his direction.

  ‘Given the talk I’ve overheard this morning,’ he announced, ‘I would have to say the old fun-loving, no-strings gal.’