by Clare Lydon
“They are Christmas cabaret, though.”
“What am I?”
“You’re the local superstar.”
Ruby ignored her. She was terrible at taking compliments. “Anyway, I will be singing my stuff, but that doesn’t need as much practice. I thought I’d run through the Christmas stuff, and leave my songs until I have some musical back-up. Is Eric going to be around to rehearse soon?”
Victoria nodded. “He is. He said to just let him know when. He’s been practising with what you sent him.”
Ruby put her lyrics folder down on a nearby chair. She shivered, even though the heat was on. She shouldn’t stay out here for too long.
“How are you feeling about the concert? I know there was pressure in the bar, but I’m really excited to see my big-shot sister sing live. I’ve only seen you perform twice before.” Victoria’s smile was genuine, which only made Ruby more nervous. Was she going to cope with the pressure and make her family proud? There was a lot riding on this gig for her.
“I’m hardly a big-shot. I'm someone who gigs, and teaches on the side.”
“Don’t be so ridiculous. I'm a shopkeeper. You're a singer. If anyone ever asks me, that’s what I tell them.” Victoria pointed at her. “You need more belief in your ability. To be less fearful of it all. Maybe then you’d put yourself out there a bit more.” Her sister tilted her head. “And yes, I know you’re going to tell me you’re happy where you are, you get by just fine, but I don’t buy it. Neither does Fran, which I love.” Victoria paused. “She’s working in The Bar again today. Hard worker, that one.” Victoria waved a hand. “Anyway, we both think you should be doing more gigging and recording. You're a born singer. I'm looking forward to seeing you, and so are Mum and Dad. Even Scott.”
Ruby snorted. Her brother was not a music fan. “Now I know you’re lying. Scott would rather stick pins in his eyes than see me sing.”
“He’ll be there. If nothing else to admire the stage he and Eric built.” Victoria paused. “Talking of Fran, anything to tell me about Friday night?”
Ruby perched on the edge of one of the office desks, and shook her head. She could do poker face, no problem. “No, nothing.”
Victoria’s look told Ruby she didn’t buy it. “Nothing at all? I thought I picked up a little frisson between you two in the bar.”
“You’re seeing things that aren’t there. Plus, how could you possibly have picked up anything while we were in the bar? There were people all around us fighting to be heard. Norman banging on about his pint. Audrey being Audrey. It’s hardly the place where romance blooms, is it?”
“You can tell me that all you want, but I know subtle looks and smiles when I see them. Plus, you did lock up together. Nothing happened on the way home? No kissing under the snowy stars?”
A jolt of electricity hit Ruby as she recalled exactly what happened under the snowy stars. A snowy kiss that hadn’t strayed far from her memory ever since it happened.
“No, no kissing at all.” Ruby’s stomach did cartwheels as she lied. “Besides, I can't get involved with a music exec. I wouldn't hear the end of it from everyone I know. It’s like sleeping with the enemy.”
“She's not a music exec when she’s here though, is she? She’s your neighbour. An attractive, funny, available neighbour.”
Ruby checked her watch. “She’s coming over later to talk about the gig. Who knows, we might go for coffee afterwards. So stay by your phone for reports of us tearing each other’s clothes off in the farm cafe.”
Victoria’s face lit up. “Some of us are older and married. We have to get our kicks somehow.”
“I'm sure the other patrons might disagree.”
“I don’t know. Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow now and again, don't they?” Her sister was incorrigible.
“Haven't you got a shop to run, Mrs Shopkeeper?
“You're no fun. You’re also very prickly on the subject of your love life.”
“I don’t have a love life!” Ruby threw up her hands. “Now get lost so I can keep practising in peace.”
Victoria held up her hands, palms facing out. “All right, I'm going. Happy singing and let me know if I can do anything. We've got all the stuff bubbling in the background for the food and drink for Saturday.”
“Good. We put some stuff out on social media. We're already getting positive feedback. It looks like I’m really doing it now. Scott reckons we might pull in a few hundred.” Ruby’s stomach flipped at the thought, as it always did. But nerves were good. Just so long as there weren’t too many of them.
“No backing out. The village is going to love it. Our own homegrown singing superstar for one night only.”
“One night only is right, so tell your friends.”
“I wouldn't miss it for the world.”
When Victoria was gone, Ruby rehearsed a few more Christmas numbers, before she sat on the red sofa, going through her lyrics. She came across her new song, ‘Pieces Of You’. The one she’d sung a few times in London. Every time she did, the crowd went wild. She’d written it about taking a chance on love. The irony wasn’t lost on Ruby, because she hadn’t done that in quite a while. She hadn’t been in a relationship for two years. Hadn’t had sex in 12 months. She also hadn’t kissed anyone in that time, either.
Until she met Fran. Being around Fran was bringing to the fore a swirl of feelings she’d hidden away. Some that she’d wondered if she’d ever feel again.
Ruby scanned the words. She focused on the chorus. ‘Even if the journey seems far, you need to follow who you are, sometimes all you need is a leap of faith.” Was that what Ruby needed to edge closer to Fran? She’d already kissed her, and that had been the first leap. That kiss had made Ruby’s blood steam. It had lifted her up. It had made Ruby want to feel more.
Of Fran, but also of herself.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Ruby fished it out. A text from Fran. A grin settled on Ruby’s face as she opened it.
‘I’ve got some social media designs to run by you. Can we meet for a coffee later to chat? Does 6pm at the farm work?’
Ruby stared off into the distance, her body humming with anticipation as thoughts skated around her brain. Every single one had her kissing Fran.
She texted straight back to say that would be fine. Her parents would give her the time off for the concert. That it involved spending time with Fran was an added bonus.
Ruby shook her head. The gig began to pulse in her mind. She didn’t have time to sit around and daydream. She checked her watch: 8:30am. Another half an hour before the farm opened to the public, which meant she had another 30 minutes to nail these songs.
She stood and cleared her throat. She could worry all she liked about the crowd’s reaction, but she couldn’t control that.
The one thing she could control was her performance.
She had to be perfect for Saturday.
Chapter 19
Fran strolled along Farm Lane at 6pm, having escaped The Bar before the locals turned up. She didn’t want to get pinned down again. She’d learned her lesson on Friday. Norman drove by in his retro-green Morris Minor, tooting his horn. He lived down the road from the farm, and was probably heading to The Bar for a drink. He seemed to be a permanent fixture there.
Fran blinked as her eyes adjusted to being outside and not pointed at a screen. It wasn’t snowing, but it was cold enough for what was there to stick.
Today had been an intense day, and she wasn’t sure how it boded for the rest of the week. Fast Forward’s single launch had gone well, but the group were still far too nervous about all the things that needed to be done. Damian and the rest of the team were doing a brilliant job, but in the end, the buck stopped with her, as Fran’s boss had told her today.
Could she buy a couple more days in Mistletoe before she had to get back on Thursday? Fran hoped so. Her dads were loving having her, and then there was Ruby. Tall, gorgeous, unexpected Ruby.
Every time Fran thought about he
r, a shiver of anticipation ran up her spine.
That kiss had taken up brain space ever since it happened. How could it not?
Whatever occurred, Fran had to be back in Mistletoe for Saturday night and Ruby’s gig. She couldn’t miss that, not after suggesting it in the first place. Plus, she had a feeling Ruby was going to need all the support she could get. Fast Forward had a gig and TV appearances on Friday and Saturday, but Damian and the team could hopefully handle the finish if she was there for the start. She should have checked her schedule before she suggested the gig, but she hoped she could work it out. Every time she thought about it, her stomach sagged. She’d overcommitted, but she was going to have to live with it.
Now, it felt like Ruby was her artist, as well as Fast Forward. Fran knew whose music she preferred. Also, who she’d like to kiss again as soon as humanly possible.
As the farm sign came into view, Fran turned into the drive and spotted Ruby’s silhouette walking towards her.
As she got closer, Ruby greeted Fran with an unsure smile.
In return, Fran gave her a small wave.
They were rubbish at this, weren’t they? They’d shared one dynamite kiss in the snow, but what was the etiquette now? Did she hug her? Kiss her on the lips? Cheek? Shake hands? Did they do things differently in Mistletoe to London? Fran was in the same country, but life in Mistletoe might as well have been on the moon.
For one thing, she didn’t generally run around London kissing women in the snow.
Mistletoe 1, London 0.
“It’s good to see you.” Fran went with no physical contact and a lame opener. She should never give up her job to do improv. She’d be bankrupt within weeks. Particularly if it involved Ruby.
“You, too.” Ruby’s face was guarded in the flashing lights of their Christmas tree on the drive.
Fran shivered. “It’s so much colder here. I thought I’d hate it, but I kinda love it.”
“Especially now you have the right coat to deal with it. How was the curry? Did your dads love it?”
“It went surprisingly well.” Ruby remembered. Fran beamed.
“And did you get a lot of work done today?”
“Loads. Also, sorted some stuff out with my colleague, so now I don’t have to rush back tomorrow, fingers crossed. It’s been a good day.” Fran reached over and flicked some snow off a branch of the Christmas tree. It was force of habit now. “It’s just a shame I didn’t get to play in the snow today. Too much work. I need to make more time for play. I haven’t built a snowman since I was 11.”
Ruby tilted her head. “Not since you were 11? That’s scandalous.”
“I know.”
“I would say we could play in the snow tomorrow, but we’re both working.” Ruby paused. “But there’s nothing to stop us now.”
“Now?” Fran flicked her head skywards. “But it’s dark.”
Ruby shrugged. “You can still build a snowman in the dark. We did it plenty of times when I was little. Scott and I used to sneak out of the house early and build them in the field around the back of the barn. If you turn the outside lights of the back barn on, it gives you just enough glow. How about you show me your designs, I’ll agree with them, and then we can play?”
Fran knew Ruby was talking about building a snowman, but it didn’t stop heat flooding her body. Playing with Ruby had just shot to the top of her to-do list. “Can we do the design part at mine so I can drop my laptop off?”
Ruby nodded. “Let me grab my snowman backpack and we’ll go.”
Fran let herself into Hollybush Cottage, wiping her feet on the doormat as she did. She pulled off her orange bobble hat, conscious of her hat hair. Was it doing that thing where it stuck up at the back? Probably. She finger-combed it in an attempt to repair the damage. In her heart, she knew it was futile. Fran put her hat and scarf on the coat rack, followed by her jacket. Then she hung Ruby’s coat up, too.
Ruby eyed her approvingly. “Nice bright green top.” A smile creased her face.
Fran wriggled under the spotlight. “Thank you.” She pointed down the hall. “Better go and say hi to my dads.” Self-consciousness dug its heels into her skin. She felt like she was 14 again, bringing home her first girlfriend. Not that she’d had a girlfriend at 14. Or been out. She wasn’t that cool.
However, Fran’s toes were curling at the thought of what her dads might say when they saw Ruby was here. They weren’t embarrassing parents — far from it — but sometimes when she brought a woman home, they could be just a little too over the top. Too welcoming.
Which was why she hadn’t brought a woman home very often. When had the last time been? Probably over ten years ago. Having gay parents was great, but they were still her parents. Even though she was 36 years old. Did Ruby even count as someone she was bringing home when she was their neighbour? Having told her dads there was nothing going on, this would send their imagination into overdrive.
When they entered the kitchen, Dad sprang up.
Pop reached for his crutches, too.
Fran shook her head, waving a hand at them. “Don’t get up. Ruby’s just come back so I can show her the designs I got today.” That sounded like a line, didn’t it?
Ruby gave them a smile. “Then we’re going to make a snowman.”
Fran shot her a panicked look.
Ruby looked like she wanted to curl up and die. Too late. It was out there now. Two grown women were going out into the twilight to build a snowman.
To their credit, her parents didn’t laugh. Rather, they gave each other that look that parents did. The one that told Fran she was fooling nobody.
No matter. Fran was going to act as if she was a stealth agent. Cool, calm, collected.
“You wanna come upstairs?” The blood rushed to Fran’s cheeks as soon as she uttered those words. She wasn’t going to even look at Ruby, let alone her parents.
“Sure,” Ruby replied.
Fran put her head down and walked out of the kitchen. Did Dad just let out a small guffaw?
She wasn’t going to focus on that. She grabbed her bag and headed up the carpeted staircase, Ruby’s footsteps providing a reassuring beat behind her. Fran shut her bedroom door and let out a breath she’d been holding ever since she left the kitchen. Then she took another deep one as the enormity of the situation crept up on her.
Ruby was in her bedroom. She picked up a trophy Fran won playing pool when she was 15.
“A pool shark. I would never have guessed.”
“We had a table at the youth club. I spent a lot of time there.”
“Training to be a good lesbian.”
Fran smirked. “I even got a trophy for my efforts.”
Ruby smiled, then glanced over to the corner. The tell-tale guitar case was propped up against the wall. “You play guitar? You never told me.”
“That’s because you’re a professional musician, and I can’t do barre chords.” Fran wriggled her fingers. “It hurts my hand too much.”
“You get used to it.”
“So everyone tells me.”
Ruby held up her hand. “My fingertips have been years in the making. Hard as nails, but still soft when they need to be.”
“Do you say that to all the girls?” Fran gave her a grin.
“Only the ones with guitars.” Ruby sat on Fran’s double bed, and bounced a little. “So are you really planning on showing me some designs, or is this just a ruse to show me your bed?” She bounced a little more. “Good movement. Not too noisy. Something we could work with.”
Fran wanted to die on the spot, but she managed not to.
Good start.
“That was the idea. Parade you in front of my parents, then bring you up here to have my wicked way with you. It seemed a little obvious at first, but it worked. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier in life. It would have saved so much time and angst wooing women.”
Fran grabbed her laptop from her bag, then sat next to Ruby on the bed. The warmth of Ruby’
s body hit her immediately, and she gulped. They were sitting on her bed. This wasn’t a situation she’d considered might happen so quickly this morning.
Ruby crossed her long legs one over the other. Then she turned her head.
Fran stared at Ruby’s lips. She’d like to kiss them somewhere warm. Like here.
“You woo women? Is this something I need to know about? Do you have a harp hidden away too that you’re about to spring on me?”
Fran gave her a slow smile, never taking her eyes from Ruby. “No harp, promise. My wooing skills are pretty average.”
“Unlike your kissing skills, which I recall were way above that.” Ruby’s gaze dropped to Fran’s lips.
Fran froze at the words, hardly believing them. “They were?”
They were so close.
Ruby closed the gap between them. “Uh-huh.” Ruby’s lips touched hers.
A spark of electricity streaked down Fran.
Ruby teased her tongue along Fran’s bottom lip.
Fran mentally reclined, ready for bliss.
“Fran!” Dad’s voice cut through the sexual tension in the room. Footsteps on the stairs, then a knock at her bedroom door.
They sprang apart, Fran’s heart falling through her body.
The door opened.
Fran shot up. Her Mac fell from her lap.
Her dad frowned as it dropped to the ground with a thud.
Fran snatched it up, cradling it to her chest like her first-born. What the fuck was her dad doing?
“I wondered if you’d like some banana bread and tea before you head out into the cold?” He glanced at Ruby, then at Fran. Could he feel the crackle in the air? Or was he oblivious?
“Sure. Let me just show Ruby these designs, then we’ll be down.” She ushered him out of the room. Then she shut the door and let out a breath.
Fran caught Ruby’s gaze. She gave her a wide grin.
Fran slid down the door, laughter taking hold of her. “We’re far too old to be living with our parents, aren’t we?”