Snowflakes and Cinnamon Swirls at the Winter Wonderland

by Heidi Swain

  ‘And half of that is done for you already,’ said Anna. ‘Here are the skills,’ she said, pointing at the flyer.

  ‘And Jemma’s giving you the opportunity,’ said Jamie.

  ‘Now all you have to do,’ added Mick, with a grin, ‘is bite the bullet.’

  He seemed to have forgotten his loathing of my ex-fiancé and, as one, they all began to laugh, but I wasn’t sure I could see the funny side of this particular situation.

  ‘Christmas has come early for you this year, my dear,’ chuckled Dorothy.

  They all looked and sounded so sure and I found myself almost wishing that my ambition for myself could match theirs. I wondered what I looked like through their eyes, because I couldn’t be the scared and vulnerable version of myself that I envisaged.

  ‘Now,’ Dorothy continued, thrusting her favourite wooden spoon in my direction. ‘I know you said you have absolutely nothing to wish for, but you can have the first stir, Hayley. Dig deep,’ she added, with a wink, ‘and see if you can think of something after all.’

  If there was only one good thing to come out of my morning spent daydreaming about the possibilities of what Jemma had suggested, it was that it took my mind off wondering what Gabe and his mystery visitor were up to in Gatekeeper’s Cottage. Ordinarily, when faced with a conundrum I couldn’t puzzle out for myself, I would have headed to see Molly, but as neither she nor Archie had put in an appearance during breakfast, I thought it best to leave them to it. Gooseberry had never been my favourite fruit.

  After helping Dorothy with the puddings, which had put us all very definitely in the mood for Christmas, and tidying my room, I gravitated towards the conservatory and flicked through my sketchbooks wondering if I already had something suitable I could use to turn into a design, should I choose to take Jemma up on her offer, which I probably wouldn’t.

  ‘Nothing,’ I muttered out loud, piling them all back up again.

  ‘Perhaps you should come up with something brand new,’ suggested Angus, who happened to be passing.

  ‘Angus,’ I gasped, ‘you made me jump.’

  ‘Sorry,’ he smiled. ‘You’d think that would be impossible with my bulk, but it happens quite a lot.’

  ‘That’s because you’re always up to mischief,’ I told him. ‘You’ve learned how to tread lightly so you don’t get caught.’

  His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned and came further into the room.

  ‘It’s worked out all right in here for you, hasn’t it?’ he said, looking about him.

  ‘More than all right,’ I told him. ‘I absolutely love it.’

  He crossed the room and looked out of the window into the wintery garden.

  ‘I had once thought about using this space myself,’ he told me, ‘I thought it would make an ideal hidey hole, but I hadn’t bargained on Catherine being able to keep an eye on me through all this glass. So, I moved my stuff upstairs.’

  Given the amount of ‘stuff’ he had snaffled away over the years it was a miracle the floor hadn’t given way.

  ‘Anna told me about Jemma’s suggestion,’ he continued, making himself comfortable in the chair I had consigned to Gabe. ‘And that it was Gavin who got the ball rolling.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘His bad behaviour seems to be as inexhaustible as yours, Angus. Although, on a completely different level, of course,’ I quickly added.

  ‘Actually, I rather thought this was one of his more enlightened misdemeanours,’ said Angus. ‘I hope you’re going to give the matter some serious thought, Hayley. This could be the beginning of a whole new career for you.’

  ‘But I love working here,’ I told him. ‘I love my job at the hall, working with the antiques and looking after the paintings.’

  ‘So, do both,’ he said, clapping his hands together as if the suggestion was a fait accompli rather than something that warranted months of careful consideration. ‘What are you so afraid of?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I pouted, ‘other than failing and making a fool of myself.’

  ‘Oh, well,’ he said, levering himself back out of the chair, ‘if that’s all that’s stopping you.’

  ‘I’m being serious,’ I swallowed. ‘I’ve made mistakes before – very public ones – and I have no desire to repeat the experience.’

  ‘Well, in that case,’ he said, ‘you better work your butt off to make sure you get this right, hadn’t you?’

  I didn’t answer. Was it really possible that it could be as simple as he was suggesting?

  ‘You know,’ he continued, ‘there’s absolutely nothing more infuriating than those folks who stumble through life wondering “what if”. Don’t become one of those people, will you, Hayley? Your job here is safe, the hall is your home and if you’re wondering what to draw then take inspiration from the things around you. The hall and the grounds are at your disposal, my dear.’

  ‘Thank you, Angus,’ I swallowed as the distant sound of Dorothy banging the dinner gong reached my ears. ‘For everything.’

  There was even more food than usual to go around that dinnertime, which was wonderful if you were a fan of Dorothy’s mouth-watering Yorkshire puddings and melt-in-the-mouth beef brisket, but I can’t say I liked seeing empty chairs around the table. Archie and Molly were no-shows and there was no sign of Gabe or Bran either. I guessed their absence was even more notable because of the amount of space the pair of them took up, and it made me realise just how quickly I had got used to having them around.

  ‘I thought Gabe might join us this evening,’ said Dorothy, looking at the empty spots herself. ‘I’ll have to put his dinner on a plate in the warming oven.’

  Unlike my mother, Dorothy didn’t believe in microwaves.

  ‘I wouldn’t bother,’ I told her. ‘He’s probably still got company, so I doubt he’ll be over at all.’

  ‘No,’ corrected Mick, helping himself to more roast potatoes from the ‘extras’ dish in the middle of the table. ‘He had company. That fancy car has gone, so I’m guessing his visitor has gone with it.’

  ‘Do we know who the visitor was?’ asked Anna.

  I shrugged and kept my eyes focused on my plate.

  ‘Some woman or other,’ said Mick. ‘She turned up when we were heading to town Saturday night.’

  ‘A woman?’ said Anna, her eyebrows shooting up. ‘You never said it was a woman. Before you just said he had company, Mick.’

  ‘Does it matter?’ Mick shrugged. ‘Man, woman, whatever.’

  ‘Well, no,’ said Anna, her eyes flicking to me the second I dared to look up. ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘Do you know who this mystery visitor of Gabe’s was?’ Anna asked me as we joined forces to clear away the dishes after pudding.

  ‘No,’ I said lightly, ‘of course not. Why would I?’

  ‘Well, you two seem pretty thick these days,’ she went on in a loaded undertone, ‘I thought he might have mentioned something about her to you.’

  ‘No,’ I told her. ‘Not a word.’

  I didn’t add that he had been too busy kissing me and turning my emotions to mush to explain anything, just hours before he was ushering her in.

  ‘Well,’ said Anna again, ‘not to worry. You’ll just have to give it all you’ve got at the greenery gathering. I’m sure you’ll kick this rival for his affections into touch.’

  ‘Anna,’ I said sternly, ‘I don’t know what you think is going on between me and Gabe, but you’ve got it all wrong.’

  It had to be worth a shot even if she didn’t look convinced.

  ‘Honestly,’ I told her, ‘we’ve got a bit pally because we moved in at the same time, but he’s no friendlier to me than he is to you or Molly or even Jamie. Surely you’ve seen that for yourself?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ she shrugged, ‘but you’re forgetting one important thing.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Molly, Jamie and I are spoken for, and you most definitely are not.’

  Chapter 22

  The weather took
a wintery turn during the last week of November, and even though it wasn’t yet time to hang the massive advent calendar that Angus had imported from the US a couple of Christmases before, that didn’t stop him from humming carols and quoting Dickens at every opportunity.

  There had been an unprecedented amount of interest in the Winter Wonderland as word spread like wildfire through Wynbridge, and Jamie had already made a return trip to town to distribute more flyers to various businesses as well as the local schools and the library.

  The week felt very much like the calm before the storm and we all took advantage of the lull to write out our cards, shop online and even start wrapping. If experience had taught us anything, it was that, once December dawned, it would be all hands to the pumps and full steam ahead.

  The only person on the team who seemed immune to the sudden upsurge in festivity was Gabe. His noticeable absence from both the kitchen and my studio in the evenings meant that we were all a little concerned about him. But Jamie assured us he was just getting his work done, and Molly, when she could tear herself away from Archie, was certain he was fine, even though she refused to disclose what the pair of them had been discussing the morning I walked in on their cosy chat. I was sure it had a bearing on the situation, but she refused to elaborate.

  When I wasn’t sorting out Christmas presents, polishing the hall to perfection or helping Dorothy come up with sweet treat ideas for the Winter Wonderland, I took the time to think about some designs I could present to Jemma.

  I was under no illusion that combining my work and my passion would be anywhere near as straightforward as the Connelly clan had suggested, and I knew I would probably never even get around to showing Jemma what I had come up with. Nonetheless, it was fun to imagine myself in the role of a bona fide artist, and I took pride in designing things I thought she might like.

  A bolshie robin proved the perfect first subject and he was soon joined by a quirky blue tit. Emphasising the more interesting aspects of their personalities gave them added character, and as I quietly worked away I could easily imagine the drawings gracing mugs and egg cups and adorning a breakfast table or two.

  Following on from the designs I had used on the Winter Wonderland advertising and map – complete with Snowflake Trail – my style was ever-changing, and although the subjects were nothing like those that had inspired me at school, I very much liked this new direction.

  ‘Anyone at home?’

  I hurriedly stuffed my papers together and grabbed the magazine closest to hand.

  ‘Gavin,’ I gulped, ‘what on earth are you doing here?’

  He was the last person I expected to slip into the conservatory via the door that accessed the garden. Gabe was the only person who used that particular entrance as a rule and I can’t deny there was a definite flicker of disappointment that it wasn’t him. My evenings, although productive, just weren’t the same without him and Bran, and my sketches of the pair were as yet unfinished.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ smiled Gavin. ‘I’m not trespassing. Jamie asked me to come and pick up a couple of scaffolding brackets that the lads missed when they came to take away the tower.’

  ‘Right,’ I said, flicking through the pages of the latest issue of Heat, but not really taking in what I was looking at. ‘I see.’

  ‘And Angus said I’d find you in here,’ Gavin elaborated. ‘This is a bit of all right, isn’t it?’ he added, looking around and taking in the space I had been slowly converting into my own.

  I saw him eyeing up the fairy lights around the book case. Gabe had helped me set those up. He hadn’t even needed to stand on tip toe to tuck them over the top.

  ‘I suppose you could say that,’ I replied.

  ‘No wonder you produced something so magnificent for the flyers,’ he smiled. ‘With a space like this to work in I’m sure you can’t help but feel creative.’

  He was right, of course. Even when the weather was too gloomy to venture out, the studio provided inspiration enough, and the view into and across the gardens was a definite bonus.

  ‘Was there any reason in particular why Angus told you where to find me?’

  I hoped he wasn’t going to make a habit of popping up when I least expected him. I was willing to be civil when our paths happened to cross, but I wasn’t looking to entwine them on purpose.

  ‘There was, actually,’ he nodded. ‘I have a message for you, but what’s all this?’

  Without asking, he started tugging at the papers under my magazine and unearthed the characterful bird designs I had been working on.

  ‘Never you mind,’ I said, slapping his hand away and moving the papers out of his reach.

  ‘Are they the ideas for Jemma?’ He grinned.

  ‘No,’ I lied, turning beetroot.

  ‘Well, you better get a move on with some,’ he said, suddenly serious, ‘because that’s who the message is from. She wants to know when you’ll have something ready for her to look at.’

  I didn’t say anything, but I could feel my internal thermostat reacting.

  ‘You aren’t going to be able to wriggle out of this one, you know, Hayley. She means business.’

  ‘And it’s all your fault,’ I snapped, annoyed that he seemed to have adopted the role of artist’s agent. ‘Had you not blabbed she never would have known.’

  ‘And that would have been a good thing, would it?’ he questioned.

  ‘Yes,’ I glowered, ‘that would have been perfect.’

  I came out from behind the table and dumped myself down in Gabe’s chair. I had a horrible feeling that I might burst into tears.

  ‘I know you think we’re all being pushy,’ Gavin said, his tone softer, ‘but it’s only because we care about you.’

  ‘Well, you certainly had a funny way of showing it when we were a couple,’ I reminded him.

  ‘Oh, no,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I’m not letting you get away with that.’

  ‘But it’s true!’

  ‘Of course, it’s true,’ he shot back, ‘but what I mean is I’m not going to let you turn this conversation into an argument about what an arsehole I was to you, just so you can avoid talking about . . .’

  ‘All right, all right,’ I conceded.

  The clever sod had seen straight through my ruse and I found myself starting to smile.

  ‘So,’ he said, again tugging at the pile of papers on the table. ‘Are these some new designs or not?’

  Resignedly, I got up and went to show him.

  ‘They are,’ I admitted, ‘but they’re not very good. Just doodles, really. I haven’t got anything anywhere near decent enough to even think about showing Jemma.’

  Gavin looked with interest at my collection of distinctive birds, including the outline of a plump little wren that I had spotted bobbing along the top of the moss-covered wall just outside the conservatory door earlier that afternoon.

  ‘You know,’ he said, smiling as he took in the aloof expression I had given the mighty round robin, ‘that day in the spring when you came out to me and the lads with a tray of drinks and toast, the first thing I remembered about you was that you were the girl who had been so good at art at school.’

  ‘Not that I’d ended up pregnant?’ I swallowed.

  ‘No,’ he said vehemently, ‘that was the others, not me. What I remembered was that you were a really cracking artist, and I just wish there was a way of proving to you that you still are. Why is it that you refuse to see the value in what you can do, Hayley?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I told him. ‘I really don’t, but part of me is beginning to wish that I could see what you guys see.’

  ‘If only you could believe in yourself, you’d be all set.’

  I nodded and sighed and he gave me a nudge.

  ‘This one,’ he said, holding up the robin who really did think he was cock of the hoop, ‘is my favourite.’

  I wasn’t at all surprised.

  ‘I want you to promise me that when you come to town to show Jemma the
se—’

  I started to protest, but he just carried on.

  ‘When you get to this one,’ he grinned, ‘you’ll tell her that he’s called Gavin, OK?’

  We both laughed and carried on looking at the others, trying to come up with names that would best fit the rest of the gang.

  We were still looking when there was a knock on the garden door.

  ‘Come in!’ I called without turning around, assuming it was Angus, coming to see if his directions had led Gavin to me. ‘It’s open.’

  Gavin looked up and grinned.

  ‘All right?’ he asked.

  That wasn’t how he would address Angus.

  ‘Gabe,’ I faltered, ‘come in.’

  ‘No,’ he said, backing off before he was even properly over the threshold and confusing Bran, who had headed straight for his familiar spot on the mat, in the process. ‘You’re all right. I didn’t realise you had company.’

  ‘I haven’t,’ I stammered. ‘He isn’t.’

  Gavin looked at me and raised his eyebrows, and Gabe’s expression was thunderous. He looked very Heathcliff-like, in full menace mode.

  ‘Gavin was just leaving,’ I tried again.

  ‘Was I?’ Gavin frowned. ‘What, right this instant?’

  ‘He had a message for me from Jemma, and yes,’ I added, shoving my ex towards the door that would take him back through the hall and swiftly away from Gabe, ‘you were.’

  ‘Well, looks like I’m off then,’ he laughed. ‘What do you want me to tell Jemma?’

  ‘Anything,’ I said, ‘whatever you like.’

  ‘Great!’ he gushed. ‘In that case, I’ll tell her to expect you by the end of the week.’

  ‘No,’ I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back, ‘I didn’t mean that.’

  ‘Look,’ said Gabe, ‘you two clearly have stuff to discuss, so I’ll go.’

  ‘No,’ I said, spinning around to face him again and cursing the fact that he had the worst possible timing in the world. Yes, I might have been feeling miffed about his mystery female visitor, but I still wanted to be his friend, and his reaction to finding me cosied up in the conservatory, with Gavin of all people, was clearly jeopardising that. ‘Please don’t go,’ I insisted, but he had already left.