by CP Ward
‘I wasn’t sure I could ever move on,’ he said. ‘For months I was in a total shutdown state, unable to see anything in front of me. It was the pub that brought me through it, the sense of community, and Thomas, who was a rock. I couldn’t have done it without him.’
‘And how do you feel now?’
Len sighed, but his eyes twinkled with light. ‘At first I always focused on my loss. Over time I came to turn it around, to focus on what we had for so many years. To remember the good days and forget the bad. To celebrate, rather than grieve. And in time I came to realise that while she was gone, I was still here. While I can’t ever bring her back, she wouldn’t want me to spend the rest of my life grieving for her. She would want me to be happy, to move on. It was just that I hadn’t met anyone else.’
Bonnie noticed the use of the past tense. ‘And you, um, have now?’
Len’s cheeks glowed. He wiped sweat off his forehead and stared at his cup. The flask was empty; they had drunk three small cups each. Somehow, more than an hour had passed while they waited surrounded by cows.
‘Maybe I, um, wondered if—’
The car bumped. Bonnie twisted in her seat as a heavy body ground past her window.
‘They’re moving,’ Len said. ‘At last.’
The cows began shift, bumping against each other, tails swishing at the falling snow. The road cleared ahead of them, the surface left a churned mess of sludge. Bonnie was staring at it when a hand thumped on her window.
‘Lass!’
She wound down the window. Reg Coldsworth, his flat cap flecked with snow, gave her a toothy grin.
‘Me apologies for leaving you stuck like that. Taking the lasses here in to the shed but a tree went down. Boys just got it cut. Have to tell yee the snow’s pretty heaped up ahead. You ain’t going nowhere on those tyres. Stay put and I’ll send a lad up with the tractor to give yee a tow. Oh, get on, Len. Didn’t see you in there. Bit of a date, is it?’ Cackling, Reg tapped the door of the car then headed on after his departing cows. Bonnie, cheeks burning even worse than before, wound the window back up.
‘So, do we believe him, or do we chance it?’ she said.
‘It’s your car.’
Bonnie put the car into gear, feeling a strange reluctance as she did so that she was breaking a moment she might never get back. The car started forward, but as soon as it hit the churned mess on the road, the wheels began to spin. Feeling an uncanny sense of relief, she put the car into neutral and put the handbrake back on.
‘I guess we’re stuck here,’ she said.
Len grinned. ‘Looks like it.’ He reached into his bag. ‘Would you like a piece of cake? I was saving it in case we were stuck overnight, but I suppose we might as well eat it while we can still enjoy the taste.’
‘Overnight? I hope not.’
Len laughed. ‘We’re only about a mile out of Quim. We could hike it if you like.’
She held his gaze for a couple of seconds longer than felt normal, then shook her head. ‘No, I think we’d better stay here and wait for the tractor. We wouldn’t want him to waste a journey.’
‘Cake it is, then.’
35
Happy Endings
The tractor took its sweet time to arrive. By the time it came chugging up the road, the day was slipping away, and any chance of going to Kendal to pick up Debbie’s costume was gone.
Not that Bonnie had thought much about it. The hours had passed in light conversation with Len, the pair becoming increasingly at ease with each other, even though by the time the tractor did show up, she was bursting for the toilet but afraid to say so. From the increasingly tense look on Len’s face, she suspected that he was, too.
The tractor towed them back down the road to Quimbeck, leaving them in the pub car park. After they had both made a quite obvious run for their respective toilets, they met again in the warm confines of the bar, where a smiling Thomas was polishing glasses ready for opening time. After apologising to his father for leaving him stranded in a way which seemed a little suspicious, he poured them both a drink and then made an excuse to attend to some jobs in the private bar around the back.
‘Well, that was an adventure,’ Len said. ‘You know, it’s getting late, so if you’d rather stay in Quim, I think one of the guest rooms is free.’
‘That’s kind of you, but I really should get back,’ Bonnie said, nevertheless feeling the urge to stay in Len’s warm company. ‘But, you know, today was fun. We should, ah….’
‘Try it again sometime? Only not in the middle of nowhere?’
‘Sounds great. I’d love to.’
‘You know, there are some nice restaurants in Quim—’
‘Sounds great,’ Bonnie blurted, momentarily losing her composure. They both laughed. The ease with which it came was comforting.
‘I’d better be getting back,’ Bonnie said. ‘Just in case Debbie turned my café into a rock club or something.’
‘It’s dark,’ Len said, even though with the proliferation of street lights in Quim, it never really was. ‘I’ll walk you to the station.’
And he did. Before boarding the train, they didn’t share anything as clichéd as a first kiss, but Len did give her hand a quick squeeze and told her he hoped to see her again soon.
She was almost at Ings Forest station before her heartbeat had slowed down, and by the time she reached the park gates, she was humming to herself, skipping along like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music.
It was a surprise that neither Brendon nor the elves were on duty by the gates. It was past the park’s official closing time but even so, someone was usually around at this time of night. June’s shop and café, too, was closed early.
Bonnie wondered if something was up. Perhaps there had been a power outage. She headed for the café to find out if a similar problem had affected her own business.
She was nearing the plaza when she saw Debbie walking towards her.
‘Bon! There you are! Fancy seeing you out here at this time of night.’
Bonnie frowned, then remembered why she had gone out in the car in the first place. ‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t get your costume. I had a little trouble with the car.’
Debbie patted her on the shoulder. ‘Quite all right. No problem. In fact, I’m good with what I’m wearing right now. How about you? Do you need to change?’
Bonnie frowned. ‘What’s going on? Why are you acting all strange?’
Debbie gave a nervous laugh. ‘Well, um, you see, while you were out, I did some thinking. Are you okay with a private chat?’
‘About what?’
‘Oh, this and that. In the café?’
‘Right now?’
‘Um, yes. Right now.’ Debbie put an arm around Bonnie and steered her towards the plaza. The café’s lights were off, the windows dark.
‘Is there some problem with the power?’
‘No, not that I know of.’
‘Perhaps we should go over to the pub?’
‘No, no. No. Absolutely not. The café is fine.’ Debbie was practically hauling Bonnie forward, fingers squeezing tight around her arm.
‘Look, what’s this all about?’
‘I’ll tell you when we get inside.’
Debbie pulled the door open and pushed Bonnie forward into the gloom. Immediately she knew something was different; the air felt wrong: too warm, oppressive, sweaty—
‘SURPRISE!’ came the roar of several dozen voices as in a single moment the lights came on, party poppers exploded and hands began to clap. They were all there, Brendon and June, Niall, Jason, Belinda, Larry, the elves, Ben and even Gene in Father Christmas costume, albeit sitting on a chair in the corner. A few regular customers too, everyone she had got to know over the last few weeks, all cheering for her.
Hanging over the counter, a colourful sign: THANK YOU, BONNIE.
And a girl pushing through the crowd, slender and attractive, braids in her hair and glitter on her cheeks, reaching out to embrace her.
‘Hi Mum. Glad I could make it. Can’t believe what you’ve done here. Awesome.’
And then, as she pulled away, a little boy came running forward, seven years old, arms outstretched.
‘Timothy….’
‘Hi Grandma. Merry Christmas.’
She hugged her grandson to her, and looked up into the face of the man coming behind him. His smile told her everything she needed to know, and in that moment she was prepared to channel all the spirit she needed to forgive and forget, and to move forward with their lives.
‘Mum, I’m sorry I was an ass,’ Steve said. ‘Debbie called me and gave me a sound ear bashing. I was a real idiot.’
‘Give me a hug,’ Bonnie said, pulling him close, then reached out and pulled Claire in beside him while Timothy still clung to her waist.
‘Merry Christmas,’ Bonnie said, tears in her eyes. Glancing up, her vision clearing for just a moment, she caught sight of Debbie standing by the counter, a smile on her face, and she began to cry all over again.
‘Coffee’s up,’ Debbie said as Bonnie appeared out of her bedroom. ‘You’re still alive?’
Bonnie grinned. ‘Best party ever. And all thanks to you.’
‘Ah, it would have sucked if no one had shown up. I went round the park while you were out, slipping everyone a fiver.’
‘How on earth did you get hold of my kids? I couldn’t even contact them.’
Debbie grinned. ‘I know the internet a bit better than you. There’s no such thing as off-the-grid these days.’
‘I suppose not. I still can’t believe it.’
‘I just wanted you to know how much you’re appreciated,’ Debbie said. ‘And I know a lot of the guys around here did too, they just didn’t know how to show it.’ With a grin, she added, ‘Luckily I’m here.’
‘You did a great job.’
Debbie shifted from foot to foot. ‘So … any news?’
‘What news?’
‘With Len?’
Bonnie rolled her eyes. ‘We might go out for dinner.’
Debbie clicked her fingers. ‘Nice one. Thomas said you looked pretty pleased with yourselves—’
‘Hang on a minute. Thomas?’ Bonnie narrowed her eyes. ‘Was yesterday a set up?’
‘No … well, I mean, Reg Coldsworth’s hot chocolates are on the house for the next six months. Nice old guy, don’t you think?’
‘I can’t believe you.’
‘Oh, and you got post. It arrived this morning.’ Debbie held up a letter.
‘What’s this?’
‘Read it.’
Bonnie took the letter and turned it over. The brown envelope had a paper chain design around the outside and a little postmark in the corner of a smiling snowman.
‘It’s from the North Pole. But I never—’
‘I posted it,’ Debbie said. ‘You think I’d throw away a letter to Father Christmas? What kind of bad karma do you think I’m looking for?’
‘But—’
‘Just read it.’
Bonnie turned it over. The seal seemed soft, loose.
‘I um, steamed it open,’ Debbie said. ‘But I promise, it’s like the last time ever. I’ll never do it again. Just read it. Come on, hurry up.’
Bonnie pulled out the letter and unfolded it. On a single sheet of ornate paper, neat handwriting read:
Dear Bonnie,
How lovely to hear from you. I’m surprised you knew where to find me, after all I’ve led a quiet life all these years. Thank you for taking on the responsibilities of Mervin’s café and bringing life back to Christmas Land.
I’m afraid it had begun to stagnate, but in your hands, I think it will prosper for years to come. If my legs were a little more mobile, I’d be tempted to visit, but I’m happy enough here in Lapland, doing what I do for whatever time I have left. Perhaps in the new year, when things have settled down, you could come and visit me! In the meantime, you take care of yourself, and take care of my park. When I’m gone, it will become your park, and I hope you will let it continue bringing happiness to so many people. I leave it in your wise and careful hands.
Goodbye now, and Merry Christmas!
Yours sincerely,
Grandfather
P.S. I can’t promise about the boyfriend, but I’ll see what I can do.
Bonnie looked up. ‘I found him,’ she whispered. ‘And he answered.’
‘And he’s keeping the park open,’ Debbie said, barely able to keep her feet on the ground as she bounced up and down, one hand on the kitchen counter. ‘You did it, Bon.’
‘Not alone, I didn’t,’ Bonnie said, looking up. ‘You were with me every step of the way.’
Debbie shrugged. ‘Well, someone had to look after you, didn’t they?’ Lifting a hand and counting on her fingers she said, ‘Today’s agenda. You relax and watch a Christmas movie while I clean up the café downstairs. You go off with your kids and enjoy the day while I flirt with Larry and sell marshmallows and hot chocolate. And then me and you head into Quim in the evening to check out the best restaurants for Len to take you on your first proper date next week.’
‘Isn’t he supposed to choose the restaurant?’
Debbie rolled her eyes. ‘What is this, the nineteen fifties? You’ve got to get with the times, my dear.’
Bonnie smiled and raised her coffee. ‘I’ll drink to that.’
‘To us and the café, and the future,’ Debbie said.
Bonnie laughed. ‘And Merry Christmas.’
END
Acknowledgments
Big thanks as always to those of you who provided help and encouragement. A special thanks to Elizabeth Mackey for the cover, my magnificent editorial team Jenny and Nick, and to Jenny Twist, my muse, for your eternal support.
In addition, extra thanks goes to my Patreon supporters, in particular to Rosemary Kenny, Jane Ornelas, Sean Flanagan, Alan MacDonald, Anja Peerdeman, Sharon Kenneson, Jenny Brown, Leigh McEwan, Amaranth Dawe, and Janet Hodgson.
You guys are awesome.
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