‘Firstly, no one is filming the boys. I won’t allow it, end of story.’
‘It’s not “end of story”,’ Gabe said furiously. ‘I promised Mike Briarson.’
‘Then un-promise.’
‘Why should I? I think it would be good for the kids to be involved.’
‘Well, I don’t and I’m their mother.’
‘So? I’m their father.’
‘Well, I’m the fucking series producer, which means I have the final say. And I say: Over my dead body will the boys be filmed.’
‘Macy said you’d be like this,’ Gabe muttered, only half under his breath.
‘I’m sorry, what was that?’ said Laura. ‘Macy said? So this was Macy’s idea? She put you up to it?’
‘No one “put me up to” anything,’ said Gabe. ‘You should hear yourself, Laura. You talk to me like a fucking schoolboy sometimes.’
Laura bit her lip. She knew this was true. But then Gabe could be so utterly exasperating. And he always seemed to pick the very worst moments to spring these things on her. Too angry and het up to apologize, she opted to go back on the attack.
‘Macy fancies you,’ she blurted out. ‘She does these things to cause trouble between us.’
‘Well, if she does, it’s a damn good strategy,’ Gabe said nastily.
‘At least you finally admit it,’ said Laura. Suddenly she felt close to tears. She couldn’t understand how the conversation had spiralled downwards so quickly.
‘Admit what?’
‘That she fancies you. That you fancy each other.’
‘Don’t be absurd,’ said Gabe. ‘The girl’s about to get married. She’s been swept off her feet by cricket’s answer to George Clooney, remember?’
‘Cricket doesn’t have an answer to George Clooney,’ said Laura. ‘And if it did it wouldn’t be James Craven. Besides, they barely see each other.’
‘He’s on tour!’ Gabe felt as though he was talking to a madwoman. ‘What has any of this got to do with the boys making a cameo appearance tomorrow?’
‘It has everything to do with it. You’re just too blind to see it. I swear to God, Gabriel, ever since you got a taste of fame you’ve become insufferable.’
‘I’ve become insufferable? Do you know what you’re like to work with?’
‘For,’ snapped Laura. ‘Work for.’
‘I rest my case!’ said Gabe.
But Laura hadn’t finished. ‘I mean it. Before any of this started, the children, me and the children, we always came first. But now all you seem to care about is the stupid show and how you look. To the network, to Macy, to all your sodding fans.’ It would not have been humanly possible to inject more disdain into the word. ‘You go to a celebrity party, you tell a big shot at Channel 5 what you think he wants to hear. Then you go back to Macy for a pat on the back and to get eyelashes fluttered at you and your ego massaged. To hell with the promises you made to me. To hell with what’s best for our sons. Just as long as the Gabe Baxter show keeps rolling along, and you’re still the great big star!’
Gabe looked at her for a long time. Then he said, quietly but with complete conviction, ‘You are such a bitch.’
Laura felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. Her eyes welled up but she was determined not to give him the satisfaction of tears.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Film the boys. Go ahead. I’m sure you’ll make Macy very proud.’
She walked past him towards the study. It was time to put the boys in bed anyway but, even if it hadn’t been, she needed to hold them. To smell their sweet, soft skin pressed against her cheek. To feel their little hands clasped in love – unchanging love – around her neck.
‘Laura, come on,’ Gabe called after her, suddenly contrite. ‘Let’s talk about this.’
She’d made him feel so angry before. But now, in some way he didn’t fully understand, the tables had been turned. Now he felt like the bad guy. The bully. The vain, self-centred wanker she’d just accused him of being.
‘You know I love you,’ he told her.
But the door had already closed.
Filming day for the Valley Farm Christmas Special dawned clear and very cold. Dave and Dean, the sound engineer and cameraman, swathed in thick layers and wearing fingerless gloves, blew on their hands as they gingerly moved their equipment across the farmyard at Wraggsbottom.
‘Gorgeous day!’ Jennifer Lee, the series vet, beamed as she climbed out of her filthy Land Rover. Wearing a bright yellow scarf and matching woolly hat, teamed with a red ski jacket and wellington boots with snowflakes on them, she looked like a cross between a children’s television presenter and a lunatic. The bouncy smile didn’t help.
‘What are you looking so chipper about?’ asked Dean. ‘It’s fucking arctic and we’ve got ten straight hours of filming ahead of us.’
‘Well, Mr Grinch. It just so happens I love Christmas,’ Jennifer trilled, skipping over to the pigsties, where Gabe and William, one of the hands, were already busy feeding the sows. ‘Don’t you, Gabe?’
‘Hmm?’ Gabe looked up absently from the troughs.
‘Love Christmas,’ clarified Jennifer, de-scarfing as she knelt down to examine one of the animal’s hooves. ‘The valley looked so pretty this morning, all frosted and bright, I could have cried.’
‘Soppy cow,’ said Dean good-naturedly, handing her a mug of tea from the flasks Laura had left out earlier. ‘Can’t you feed them a bit later?’ he added to Gabe. ‘We should get it on film. God knows we have enough hours to fill. Nothing happens on a farm in December.’
‘Plenty happens!’ said Gabe. ‘There’s fence-mending.’
‘Not exactly gripping television, is it mate?’ Dave, the sound engineer piped up.
‘We need to harvest the brassicas.’
‘Again … unless you can get Macy to do it in her underwear. Or Jen, here. You could dress up as a sexy Christmas elf.’ He nudged the vet playfully in the ribs.
‘Kiss my arse, Dave.’
‘Oh, go on!’ said Dean. ‘You’d be great. Santa’s dirty little helper!’
Gabe guffawed with laughter.
‘What’s so funny?’
Laura walked over to the pigpens. In baggy jeans and an oversized man’s sweater, clutching a clipboard in one hand and a phone in the other, she looked tired and stressed. The moment she arrived, the mood changed.
‘Nothing,’ muttered Gabe. ‘We were just taking the piss out of Jen.’
‘Oh. OK. Well, Macy just arrived. So if you’re ready, let’s get a few scenes in here, with Macy and Gabe doing the feeds together. And then we can move inside mid-morning.’
‘Inside?’ The crew’s faces lit up.
‘We’re doing some sequences with Hugh and Luca. Decorating our tree, that sort of thing. Mike at Channel 5 wanted a bit more human interest.’
‘Brilliant.’ Everyone nodded enthusiastically. Gabe met Laura’s eye for the briefest of moments, then they both looked away. They’d had a horrid night, both too hurt and proud to reach out and make things up with the other.
‘And then you can shoot in the village after dark,’ Laura continued briskly. ‘Get the Christmas lights and the carol singing. Macy’s doing most of that scripted. We can run through it later.’
By the time Eddie dropped in at half past eleven, they’d already been filming for three hours. Gabe and Macy were taking a break together in the kitchen, running through the afternoon’s scenes while Gabe stuffed his face with Mr Kipling’s mince pies and Macy nibbled restrainedly on a single ginger biscuit.
‘Aren’t you hungry?’ Gabe asked her, through a mouthful of sweet pastry crumbs.
‘Of course I’m hungry,’ said Macy. ‘I’m a girl. I’m always hungry.’
‘Then eat!’
‘That crap? No thanks. Besides, James gets home tomorrow. I need to look my best.’
‘You look great,’ Gabe said truthfully. ‘You always look great. Too good for James bloody Craven, if you ask me,’ he added, jo
kingly.
Macy flushed with pleasure and took another minuscule bite of her biscuit.
‘So you talked Laura into it?’ She looked over to the playroom table, where the boys were engrossed in making glittery paper chains under the watchful eye of Dean’s Camera 2.
‘We discussed it,’ Gabe said tactfully. ‘She was cool with it in the end.’
Macy raised a knowing eyebrow but said nothing. Eddie came over.
‘Is Laura about?’ he asked. ‘I wanted a quick word.’
‘In the study,’ said Gabe. ‘Someone from the parish council’s kicked up a fuss about filming on the green this evening. She’s on the phone trying to smooth things over.’
Laura hung up just as Eddie walked in.
‘Silly old bat,’ she seethed at the phone.
Eddie could see at once how tired she looked. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Oh, yes, fine,’ said Laura unconvincingly. ‘Just another outbreak of festive Nimbyism in good old Fittlescombe, the south of England’s friendliest village.’
‘I came to see if I could change your mind about letting your boys appear on the programme, but I see you decided to go ahead. I must say I’m pleased. Christmas without children’s like having Christmas pud without the brandy butter. Sort of … flat. They look awfully sweet in there, beavering away.’ He smiled broadly.
Laura didn’t.
‘Oh, so you knew about this too, did you?’ she said crossly. ‘Who told you?’
‘Well, er … Macy might have mentioned something,’ said Eddie, wrong-footed.
‘Macy!’ Laura fumed. ‘First she gets Gabe on her side, then Mike Briarson, then you. By the time old muggins here gets to hear about it, it’s a done bloody deal!’
Eddie tactfully closed the study door. ‘Keep your voice down,’ he said. ‘They’re still rolling next door.’
‘Never mind that I’m the boys’ mother,’ Laura ranted on, ignoring him. ‘Not to mention the creator of this sodding show, and Miss No-Pants-On’s so-called boss! I mean, what a joke, right?’
‘Johanssen – No-Pants-On,’ Eddie chuckled. ‘That’s quite good.’
But, to his horror, Laura burst violently into tears.
‘It’s not fucking funny!’ she berated him. ‘I’m fed up, Eddie. Fed up of it being three against one. Fed up of being cast as the bad cop, the horrible nag, while Gabe gets to swan around having all the fun and making everybody laugh. Especially Macy.’
Eddie frowned. So he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Miss Johanssen’s continued attraction for her handsome co-presenter.
‘It’s me who does all the work,’ said Laura. ‘Me who picks up the pieces, whether it’s the show or the children. I’m not bloody superwoman. I have feelings!’
‘Of course you do.’ Eddie hugged her. Not entirely sure what else to do, he started stroking her hair. ‘Of course you have feelings. No one’s saying you don’t. And no one’s trying to gang up on you.’
‘Yes they are,’ Laura sniffed defiantly into his cashmere sweater. ‘That scheming little cow …’
‘All right, well I’m not,’ said Eddie, cutting her off. ‘And at the risk of getting my head bitten off, is it possible you’re overtired?’
‘You make me sound like a toddler,’ Laura said sheepishly. ‘But I suppose so. I didn’t sleep much last night.’
She wrapped her arms tighter around Eddie and closed her eyes. It felt so good to let go for once, and to be comforted and understood. If only Gabe weren’t so damn stubborn! Why couldn’t he be like this? Kind and soothing and—
‘Oh my God! Sorry!’ The door to the study opened suddenly. Jennifer Lee, the vet, stood on the threshold, a look of horror and embarrassment plastered across her kind, open face. ‘I didn’t mean … shit.’
The door slammed closed again.
Laura looked at Eddie. ‘You don’t think she thought …?’
‘I’m pretty certain that’s exactly what she thought,’ said Eddie, grimly. ‘Should I go after her?’
‘No.’ Laura pulled herself together, disengaging reluctantly from the safety of Eddie’s embrace. ‘No point making a mountain out of a molehill. I’ll explain to her later. We’re filming all afternoon, worse luck.’
In fact, it wasn’t until the very end of the day, when Jen was getting back into her car to set off home, that Laura had a chance to speak to her.
The filming in the village had been disrupted – or enlivened, depending on how one chose to look at it – by a set-to between Laura and some disgruntled members of the Parish Council, after one of Gabe’s sows had made a break for freedom and run across the village green, trampling a good third of the Christmas model village display. After much farcical dashing about with nets and blankets, Jen had finally apprehended the Wraggsbottom One, but not before the Reverend Clempson had come marching out of St Hilda’s Church like a self-appointed avenging angel, and attempted to read the riot act, not only to Laura and Gabriel but to the entire Valley Farm crew. Some wag had suggested that the assembled village choir start up a chorus of ‘Silent Night’ in the midst of the ensuing shouting match. All in all it had been an eventful night, and the cameras had kept rolling till well past nine. Then there were the usual long, drawn-out goodbyes that marked the end of the series, as well as the end of the year. It would be almost two months until the Valley Farm crew got together again.
‘Jen!’ Laura called across the deserted farmyard. It was pitch-black outside now, and the lights from the house cast only a dim glow over the treacherously icy ground. ‘Could I have a quick word?’
‘Er …’ Jen stiffened. ‘I’m a bit late actually.’ She’d stayed later than everyone else, to make a last check on the poor, traumatized sow that had caused all the trouble, and was longing to go home. It had been a very long day, and the thought of having to talk about what she’d seen in the study earlier was mortifying.
‘It’ll only take a moment.’
Laura was at the car now, with her hand on the door. She cut to the chase.
‘I wouldn’t want you to misinterpret what you saw before. In the study. Eddie and I …’
‘Please.’ The darkness hid her blushes, but Jen was sure Laura could feel her embarrassment. ‘It’s none of my business.’
‘But that’s just it,’ said Laura. ‘There is no “it”. I was upset and Eddie was being his usual, kind self. There is absolutely nothing romantic or … anything … going on between us.’
‘Right.’
Laura hesitated. Was that ‘right’ as in ‘I believe you?’, she wondered. Or ‘right’ as in, ‘I agree to lie for you?’ Or maybe it was just ‘right’ as in, ‘I want to go home.’
‘I do, sort of, have to go now,’ Jen said awkwardly.
‘Of course. Sorry.’ Laura stepped back from the car. Jen hopped in, closed the driver’s door and sped away, with what Laura couldn’t help feeling seemed like undue haste. But perhaps she was imagining things? The same way Gabe said she was imagining things between him and Macy? ‘Merry Christmas!’ she called after the vet as an afterthought. She doubted Jen could hear her over the noise of the engine.
Once the car had gone, Laura stood there for a moment, the first still moment she had had all day. There was no moon, but the stars dazzled in the sky, bright and mesmerizing above the rolling pastures of the valley. Laura thought about the shepherds in the Bible story, in another peaceful valley far away and long ago, looking up at the night sky on that first Christmas morning. She wasn’t really religious, but for a brief, lovely moment, she felt a kinship with those simple men. As if some magical line connected them through the ages. It wasn’t only a human connection either. It was about the animals too, and the land, and the peace of this beautiful place. Gabe would have understood, although he probably couldn’t have put it into words any more than she could.
As she turned towards the house, it started to snow. Thick, wet, heavy flakes began drifting lazily to the ground, like feathers from a pillow. Snow usually made
Laura happy. But tonight, for some reason, the joy wouldn’t quite come. Instead she felt an unpleasant sense of foreboding. As if a change were coming, and it wasn’t good.
Eddie’s right, she told herself. I’m overtired.
Wrapping her jacket more tightly around her, she hurried inside.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘Merry Christmas.’
Gabe kissed Laura on the cheek as they walked through the lichened gate into St Hilda’s churchyard. A light snow still clung to the ground and covered the tops of the gravestones like piped icing, but Ambrose Bray, the church gardener, had thoughtfully cleared and salted the path that led from the gate to the church door. The Christmas morning service didn’t start till ten, but the tiny village church was already packed to the rafters. If they didn’t get a move on, there’d be no chance of squeezing into a pew together.
‘Merry Christmas, darling.’
Laura kissed him back and they hugged tightly as the boys skipped ahead of them. They’d made up after the Christmas Special debacle, to Laura’s immense relief. The show had aired last night to fabulous ratings. Thanks to all the drama with the runaway pig, the scenes with Luca and Hugh in them had been cut to a few snatched seconds anyway, so the whole ridiculous argument had been for nothing.
How silly I was to get so upset and let my imagination run away with me, Laura thought now. There’s nothing wrong. She made an early New Year’s resolution to count her blessings more and to trust in the good things in her life, especially Gabriel. Yes, he drove her mad sometimes. But she also loved him madly, and she knew he felt the same. This morning he’d brought her a cup of tea in bed on a tray – with flowers, no less – and told her she looked sexy which (at that hour) was a flat-out lie. You don’t have to say sorry to be sorry, Laura realized. Gabe was trying. Everything was going to be fine.
‘Oh my goodness!’ she gasped, as they stepped through the heavy wooden doors into the church itself, squeezing into a back pew next to one of Hugh’s school friends and his family. ‘Doesn’t it look gorgeous?’
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