Snowflakes and Cinnamon Swirls at the Winter Wonderland

by Heidi Swain

  ‘Is Gabe going to be joining us?’ Molly asked when I looked up and caught her staring at me.

  She had an uncanny and somewhat unnerving knack of doing that. Clearly there was more magic around the breakfast table than that wrapped up in the fabric of the hall.

  ‘Hopefully,’ said Jamie, his gaze also flicking to me. ‘He’s been keeping himself to himself for a few days, but fingers crossed he’ll put in an appearance.’

  There was something in his look that suggested he now had more of an idea about why Gabe had been staying away. I hoped his knowledge didn’t include the part I had played in his friend’s absence from the hall. Gabe had told me that he thought us being together would strengthen our friendship, but considering his continued absenteeism it appeared that the opposite was in fact true.

  ‘He’s no doubt worn out after all his hard work at the Winter Wonderland,’ said Angus. ‘His efforts, ably assisted by Hayley, of course, made more profit than the rest of us put together.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Catherine, ‘we must thank him properly for that.’

  ‘And as the newest recruit,’ Molly chimed in, ‘I’m rather hoping he’ll agree to seek out the hall yule log. Although, thinking about the strength of him, we might have to remind him not to go for something too big,’ she added and everyone laughed.

  Having been carried up the narrow stairs in Gatekeeper’s Cottage with ease, I could vouch for Gabe’s strength, but thought it best to keep the details of that to myself.

  I was disappointed when Gabe didn’t show up for the solstice ceremony, but I wasn’t completely surprised. I had been hoping to get our first post-coital conversation underway amidst the other yule log gatherers from town and the rest of the family. Yes, it was a thoroughly selfish and cowardly idea, but as the week had worn on I had felt more and more ashamed of myself for running out on him, especially given everything he had shared with me.

  I was hardly being the supportive friend I had promised to be and I wanted to rectify that, but I wasn’t quite sure how. I just hoped it wasn’t too late to make amends. I might have left my heart in Gabe’s embrace, but that wasn’t his fault. I had no intention of burdening him with my feelings, especially now I knew just how much his own heart had to deal with. I might have still wanted more from him than friendship, but I needed to just let it go and be there for him.

  ‘I was hoping to see Gabe here this afternoon,’ Mags from the owl sanctuary said as she fell into step beside me.

  ‘Me too,’ I told her.

  ‘The last time we spoke after the Winter Wonderland he seemed really keen to take on our barn owl, Jareth.’

  In my mind’s eye, I could picture Gabe striding out across the misty early-morning Fenland landscape, Jareth on his arm and Bran at his heels, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about the image. Bran had seemed every bit as smitten with the mysterious beauty as his master, but Gabe’s desire to make the owl his own didn’t quite tally with his resolve to deny himself anything that made him happy. Perhaps his ethos only included people like me, the woman who had loved and promptly left.

  ‘But I don’t think it’s going to happen now,’ Mags shrugged.

  ‘Why not?’ I frowned, the image disappearing with a pop as I tuned back into what she was saying.

  ‘Jamie says Gabe’s gone away for a bit. We couldn’t let him take Jareth if that’s something he’s going to make a habit of.’

  ‘I see,’ I said, my head spinning.

  ‘He’s a creature with a damaged past, who needs some constancy in his life.’

  I wasn’t sure if she was referring to Jareth or Gabe, but I knew exactly how whoever it was felt.

  ‘Well, I’m sure Gabe will be back soon,’ I said, striding ahead to catch up with Jamie. ‘And I’m certain he really would be the perfect person for Jareth.’

  Once Molly and her coven – although she preferred me to call them her friends – had selected Mick in lieu of Gabe to search for the yule log and had said a few words, I took the opportunity to ask Jamie what was going on.

  ‘Why didn’t you say earlier that Gabe had gone away?’

  I didn’t want to sound confrontational or cause another upset, but I was feeling floored. What if our night together, and my early departure after it, was the reason Gabe had decided to do a runner? I had promised him that friendship and comfort were on offer to all at Wynthorpe Hall and I hated the thought that my actions might have denied him access to both when he needed them most.

  ‘Because I didn’t know,’ Jamie said simply. ‘He rang my mobile just before we came out to say he had stopped in town, was phoning from the Cherry Tree, and was going on to visit family. He said he’d be back after Christmas, ready to start work in the New Year.’

  As far as I knew, aside from Penny who was in Paris, he had no family. I let out a sob as I imagined him spending Christmas camped out next to his daughter’s grave.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Jamie asked. ‘Has something happened between you two?’

  ‘No,’ I swallowed, ‘nothing. Of course not.’

  ‘That’s what I was afraid of,’ he said, sounding suitably unimpressed. ‘What a pair of idiots you are.’

  I didn’t comment and Jamie wandered off to see how Mick was getting on.

  I stood rooted to the spot, my feet becoming more and more frozen to the woodland floor. I should have felt relieved that Gabe had gone away and left me to take back possession of my heart in peace, but actually I was gutted. Just as I had predicted, the fleeting comfort our night together provided had ruined our friendship rather than strengthened it. I had been weak and now I was paying the ultimate price, and so was Gabe.

  ‘Hayley,’ said Anna, laying her hand on my arm. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘You look frozen stiff,’ said Molly, standing the other side of me.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I told them, taking a deep breath and shrugging them off.

  They looked doubtful, and a little hurt at being given the brush off.

  ‘Honestly,’ I told them both, flashing what I hoped was a reassuring smile, ‘I was just miles away. Come on,’ I rallied, ‘let’s go and catch the others up.’

  The last thing I felt like doing was traipsing through the trees all afternoon and chanting as the sun began to set, but I joined in nonetheless. I answered when I was spoken to, I helped Molly fill her jute bag with leaves to make a seasonal collage and I posed for the obligatory photographs when Mick declared he had found the Wynthorpe yule log, but through it all my heart wept.

  I didn’t much care about myself anymore, but poor Gabe. How could I have let him down so badly when he had always been there for me? Literally from the moment we had met he had protected me with his mighty wings. Surely now it was time for me to do the same for him, and not only by offering him physical comfort.

  It was up to me to make him see sense, I realised. I needed to convince him that denying himself any chance of happiness was not the way forward. If anything, his determination to be alone would only prolong his grieving, and I was certain his daughter wouldn’t have wanted to see her father suffering any more than he already had.

  I had to get through to him. Even if he did decide he didn’t want to be with me, we could still be friends, helping each other along life’s rocky path. It was a thrilling prospect, tempered only by the fact that he had sprouted wings and taken flight just hours before I had worked out what I could do to really help him.

  Chapter 30

  Having gone to so much trouble to tell Jamie that nothing had happened between Gabe and me, it felt impossible to quiz him further about where he thought our woodsman might have gone. However, given the fact that Jamie seemed so unconcerned about his disappearance, I could only conclude that perhaps Gabe did have more family than he had mentioned to me and was subsequently safely nestled in the warm and festive embrace of kith and kin. But it didn’t feel like that. Deep down in my bones there was something niggling away at me, telling me that wasn’t the case at all.

&n
bsp; ‘I was rather hoping,’ said Anna as, between us, we measured out the space in the main hall, trying to work out the very best fit for the tables, chairs and things for the party, ‘that the menfolk would be on hand to help out with all this.’

  I gave a loud tut at her suggestion.

  ‘Are you suggesting that we aren’t capable of wielding a measuring tape?’ I frowned.

  ‘No,’ she said primly, ‘not at all, but we might have a job trying to move the long table and set up the stage on our own.’

  She had a point; the table was solid oak and the stage was unwieldy for two to manage.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from Gabe, have you?’ she asked innocently. ‘He’s the sort of hefty chap we need to help us lug all this stuff about.’

  I wondered how long she had been working her way up to bringing the conversation round to him.

  ‘There does seem to be rather a lot to sort out,’ I said with a nod to the most recent delivery of large cardboard boxes.

  ‘I think these are the snowflakes for the ceiling,’ she said, abandoning the tape measure, and, thankfully, her questioning of my lack of info about Gabe’s current whereabouts.

  She whipped a small penknife out of her pocket.

  ‘Where on earth did you get that?’ I gasped, feeling slightly taken aback as I watched her competently slit open one of the boxes and plunge her hands inside.

  ‘Angus, of course,’ she beamed. ‘It was my advent calendar gift the day you were sulking in your room.’

  ‘I wasn’t sulking—’ I started, but she carried on talking over me.

  ‘He thought it would come in handy,’ she said, ‘and he was right. Oh now, these are perfect.’

  She pulled open a large bag and tipped out a variety of different sized snowflakes cut out of ice blue coloured card. Some were covered in sparkly silver glitter while others were plain. Lots were strung together garland style. She passed me one end and together we spread it the length of the entire floor.

  ‘It’s snowflake bunting,’ she told me. ‘To carry on your clever theme from the Winter Wonderland. Pretty isn’t it? And these,’ she added, picking up the sets that were joined together in shorter lengths, ‘are for hanging from the ceiling.’

  ‘Lovely,’ I told her.

  I couldn’t help thinking that if she wasn’t careful the party would end up looking like a scene straight out of Frozen, but I was sure she knew what she was doing.

  ‘How have the guests responded to you including a colour scheme for their outfits?’ I asked.

  There hadn’t been time for me to design the invitations myself, but Anna had said she would definitely be securing my services for the next party.

  ‘Everyone’s really excited,’ she told me warmly. ‘Although, as you know, we’ve had to concede a little for the gents, because finding white suits was almost impossible.’

  ‘I should imagine so,’ I said with a wry smile.

  The guests had all been asked, if possible, to wear white, in keeping with the snowy theme, but the colour palette had subsequently been enlarged to include blue.

  ‘My goodness,’ she laughed, ‘can you imagine Angus in a white suit? He’d look like a snowman. And what about Gabe? He really would look like an angel, wouldn’t he?’

  Thankfully, my mobile began to ring just at that moment and I was saved from having to answer. As I pulled it out of my jeans pocket I hoped it was Gabe, but of course having no phone of his own I’d never bothered to pass my number on to him.

  ‘Hayley?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s Evelyn, from The Mermaid.’

  ‘Hello, Evelyn, is everything all right?’

  I had no idea why the landlady of my local would be calling me.

  ‘Yes, love,’ she said. ‘Sort of.’

  I was somewhat knocked off-guard by her use of an endearment. Clearly something wasn’t right at all.

  ‘Is this a convenient time to talk?’ she asked. ‘I don’t want to interrupt your work.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ I said, waving at Anna to indicate that I’d come back after I’d finished the call. ‘It’s not Dad, is it?’ I gasped, thinking the worst. ‘He hasn’t run up a bar bill again, has he?’

  ‘After last time,’ sniffed Evelyn, sounding more like her usual self, ‘you must be joking. He’s the last person I’d offer credit to. No, this is about the other bane of your life.’

  ‘Gavin?’

  ‘Gavin.’

  ‘What’s he done now?’ I groaned.

  Surely it was about time that folk stopped associating him with me. At least I wished it was.

  ‘It’s nothing he’s done,’ she said, sounding jittery again, ‘more something he’s said.’

  ‘If he’s still suggesting we had a quickie down Lovers Lane—’

  ‘No,’ she interrupted, ‘it’s not that.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Well,’ she said, clearing her throat and cranking my paranoia up a notch, ‘he’d had a drink or two last night and started rattling on about . . . about the bit of bother you had when you left school.’

  ‘About me getting pregnant, you mean?’

  There was no point in beating about the bush. If I was heading for further trouble then I needed to be in possession of the plain facts, even if hearing them said out loud did leave me reeling.

  ‘That’s it,’ she said with a heavy sigh. ‘Last night he was telling everyone how your art teacher wasn’t actually the father, even though you always maintained he was.’

  I felt my internal temperature soar and my knees wobble as I dumped myself down on the stairs. Clearly Gavin had decided that he needed to spout off to a wider audience. He couldn’t have picked a better subject if he was hoping to draw everyone’s attention.

  ‘Oh?’ I croaked.

  I couldn’t deny that Gavin was right. Mr Ridley wasn’t the father. There was never any question that he could be, but when I found out that he was leaving school for another job, right when I needed him the most, I saw to it that everyone thought otherwise. He had nurtured my talent, fed my confidence, explained to me a future I could never have even imagined living under my parents’ uncultured roof, let alone had the courage to grasp. And then he left.

  I was devastated.

  I was also bitter, spiteful and seven weeks pregnant. There was to be no sweet sixteen for me.

  ‘Right,’ I swallowed.

  This confirmed everything I feared I had talked to Gavin about on the night of the numerous brandies. Whatever must everyone in town be thinking about me now? I would never be able to show my face in Wynbridge again.

  ‘I just thought you ought to know,’ said Evelyn, ‘forewarned and all that,’ she added stoutly.

  ‘Thanks, Evelyn.’

  ‘But, of course, no one cared,’ she went on. ‘He wasn’t telling us anything we hadn’t already worked out for ourselves, and he certainly didn’t gain any fans with his tittle tattle.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Well, it was obvious,’ she went on, ‘we all knew right from the start. About the teacher, I mean.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘We guessed that you’d made it up,’ she said softly. ‘Everyone knew that if the authorities had thought there was even a whiff of truth behind what you were telling folk then they would have investigated, wouldn’t they? A teacher getting a student pregnant would have been headline news.’

  She was right, of course. It sounded very much as if I was the only person still living with the web of lies I had spun. For years I had been feeling ashamed and guilty about it all, but everyone else had worked out the truth right from the start. I had made a silly mistake. I had been an emotional teenager who told a lie and then hadn’t had the sense to either retract it or notice that no one had believed it in the first place. What a prize plank.

  ‘So, what do you think Gavin was hoping to get out of all this?’ I asked.

  ‘A bit of attention,’ she told me, �
�but it didn’t work. No one cared. If anything, they felt sorry for you, sad about what you’d been through. Everyone knows it hasn’t been easy living where you did, with a father like you unfortunately have, and then you’d fallen for this twit, Gavin to boot.’

  That was something, I supposed, knowing folk understood, and to be honest it was a relief to have it all out in the open. I’d never meant to hurt anyone, especially Mr Ridley, but once my temper was tamed and I had realised what I’d done I didn’t know how to make amends. I should have come clean at the time, but I hadn’t and I had always felt ashamed about that.

  ‘I’m going to have to talk to Gavin, aren’t I?’ I said as I realised that this was what Jemma had been referring to when she was setting up for the Winter Wonderland.

  I knew we’d been talking about different things, but we’d been so busy I hadn’t had a chance to quiz her further. From what I could deduce, Gavin had been gossiping to her without the assistance of a few pints. This was fast becoming a nasty habit he needed to drop, otherwise he’d soon find he had no audience to crow in front of at all.

  ‘There’s no need,’ said Evelyn firmly. ‘Besides, you won’t be able to find him now. He’s gone.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He’s just left the pub with his tail firmly between his legs.’

  ‘You mean he was there all night?’

  ‘No,’ she tutted. ‘Hardly. He came back here first thing looking like death warmed up to ask if his behaviour had been as bad as he thought it had been.’

  ‘I hope you told him it had.’

  ‘Of course I did,’ she continued. ‘I thought he was going to be sick. He said he’d also told Jemma about it all and that he couldn’t blame alcohol on that occasion as he’d been stone cold sober.’

  ‘Sounds to me like he’s got the taste for sharing secrets as well as drinking lager.’

  ‘You’re right,’ she agreed, ‘but he did look genuinely upset and sounded pretty sorry.’