by Heidi Swain
‘Do you think so?’
I had begun to think the recent unexpected twist in my path was more to do with fate than anything I had decided to do or not to do, but Molly thought differently.
‘Absolutely,’ she said firmly. ‘So, do you still not want to make a wish?’
‘Not today,’ I said, taking a step away from the tree. ‘Perhaps on my birthday.’
I still hadn’t really had the opportunity to assimilate the sudden changes being at the hall had brought about, and although happy in my work and enjoying playing my part in the deal I had made with Jamie, I couldn’t dismiss the niggling twinge of doubt that was trying to muscle its way in and snatch back my good fortune.
Opportunities and Christmases like this just didn’t happen to people like me, and without really thinking about what I was doing I turned back to the mysterious tree and wished with all my heart that it wasn’t all going to turn out to be too good to be true.
Chapter 16
I had no real opportunity to mull over the concerns that my life was suddenly ‘too good to be true’, because there was too much happening at both the hall and in town. Thinking about anything other than Christmas cakes, puddings and trees for next twenty-four hours at least was going to be impossible, so I decided to just give myself up to the situation and go with the flow.
Dorothy had been delighted with the new jam thermometer she had produced from the Advent calendar early that Saturday morning, but unfortunately it hadn’t held her attention long enough to stop her fussing.
‘Now you won’t forget to take these extra cakes with you, Anna, will you?’ she nagged as Jamie and I got ready to leave for the tree auction and bake sale. ‘And tell Jemma there are three more puddings to come. I’ll bring those myself later.’
The entire expedition had been planned in minute detail right down to the last second, but she was still in a flap. Jamie looked at me from the other side of the table and tapped his watch. He was as keen to get the day kicked off as I was, but thanks to Dorothy’s insistence that we should check the details just once more, we knew we wouldn’t be going anywhere fast.
‘I’m driving in with your father,’ she told Jamie, who already knew. ‘And we’ll be there around eleven.’
Angus had received a phone call the evening before as we sat enjoying supper after a hard day’s work collecting the greenery, and he had graciously (and greedily) accepted the role as chief taste tester of the Christmas cupcakes some of the local schoolchildren were entering into the bake sale competition.
‘Oh yes,’ we heard him say, ‘I would be absolutely honoured. Will there be many entrants, do you think?’
The answer had proved such a shock that he had decided to forgo his breakfast to ensure he had enough of an appetite to take a bite of each one. Angus going without his porridge was an unheard of situation, Mick told me, and everyone was mightily shocked. Especially Dorothy, who had then gone out of her way to tempt him with all manner of treats should he pass out from hunger before the first sugar-loaded hit found its mark.
Angus wandered into the kitchen now, still in his pyjamas and dressing gown with his hair standing up in its usual early-morning lumps and tufts. Catherine was hot on his heels and looking understandably exasperated.
‘Which of these,’ said Angus, holding up two pairs of apparently identical trousers for our scrutiny, ‘would you say has the most give? Ideally I could do with an elasticated waist, but in the absence of jogging bottoms, these will have to do.’
‘Come on, Anna,’ huffed Jamie.
Clearly he had had enough.
‘Let’s leave the madhouse and head up to town.’
With the cakes and the packed Land Rover and trailer we wove our way to town and across the bridge that spanned the River Wyn. The market square was already heaving and the scent of pine and fresh-cut greenery filled my nostrils even before I’d seen any of the trees that were to be auctioned. One glance at the gathering crowds warned me that the switch-on had merely been a warm-up for what I was going to have to cope with now.
‘You all right?’ asked Jamie as he reversed deftly into the space Chris was directing him towards.
Evidently the groan that had escaped my lips unbidden hadn’t gone unheard.
‘Is this going to be too much, do you think?’
‘Of course it is,’ I told him with a wry smile so he would know I was only partly joking. ‘But given how you’ve jumped feet first into everything I’ve suggested you should do to fall in love with the hall again, I can hardly wimp out now, can I?’
‘Well, I suppose not,’ he said, sounding concerned, ‘but I promise I won’t hold it against you if you change your mind.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ he said, jumping out to unhook the trailer, ‘because I reckon this is going to be a little out of your league,’ he carried on. ‘We’re not even halfway through the DVD collection yet.’
‘Oh never mind,’ I said, rushing around to help him. ‘I’ll risk it. I mean, how bad can it be?’
By the time we had helped Chris unload the trailer, remembered the cakes and I had been ushered up the town hall steps, through the double doors and into the cinnamon-scented chaos within, I already knew the answer was ‘pretty bad’. The place was a full-on seasonal assault on the senses, but there was no time to have an attack of the vapours. The event looked as if it needed help and plenty of it.
‘You’re here!’ squealed Lizzie from the Cherry Tree when she caught sight of me and the cake tins loitering in the doorway. ‘And not a moment too soon. Come with me and I’ll show you where you can wash your hands and we’ll find you an apron.’
She took charge of Dorothy’s contribution and steered me towards the kitchens.
‘Good luck,’ mouthed Jamie as I watched him backing towards the doors.
He gave me a thumbs-up which I returned before being swallowed up by the excited, chattering throng. For some reason I felt a lump forming in my throat and hastily swallowed it away. Watching Jamie walk out felt as though someone had taken my security blanket away and I suddenly realised that I had become perhaps a little too reliant on his solicitous cosseting during my mission to reclaim Christmas.
It was merely days ago that I had been so proud of my independent and professional status and now here I was, relying on a man (albeit a very kind one), to tell me what to do in order to achieve my goal. I needed to pull myself together before I slipped any further down the co-dependent route. Not that Jamie was relying on me for anything, I was sure.
‘You all right?’ asked Lizzie, when I didn’t take the apron she was offering.
‘Yes,’ I said, two spots of colour lighting up my cheeks. ‘Sorry. I’m just trying to take it all in.’
‘Amazing, isn’t it?’ said Jemma, as she rushed over and popped the lids off the cake tins to have a look at what Dorothy had sent. ‘Wow. These are gorgeous.’
Three beautifully iced Christmas cakes sat nestled in their wrappings of protective parchment. They had all been decorated differently. One was clearly made with a family in mind and was topped with a group of individually made snowmen, women and children, while the other two were simple but elegant and ornamented with edible holly, berries and festive ribbons.
‘Dorothy said she’ll bring the puddings with her later. She’s driving in with Angus.’
‘From what I heard he was rather excited to be asked to judge the cupcakes,’ laughed Lizzie.
‘Yes,’ I told them, ‘you could say that.’
‘He’s going all out this Christmas, so I understand,’ gossiped Jemma. ‘Rumour has it that he’s offered to house the sleigh in the stables at the hall, and the ponies that go with it, in return for free use of it during the rest of December when the family comes to visit.’
‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ I said, wishing I’d had more of a chance to keep an eye on his shenanigans.
Catherine would be furious if this rumour turned out to be true. She had had an i
nkling that Angus had more than a healthy interest in the sleigh when he played the part of Santa at the switch-on, but as nothing further had been mentioned, I had naïvely assumed he had become preoccupied with something else. Unfortunately, given what Jemma had just let slip, it seemed that I was wrong.
‘But you can never tell with Angus, can you?’ I said, shaking my head and trying not to give the rumour too much credence.
‘Absolutely not,’ said Lizzie as she rushed off. ‘But he certainly keeps us locals amused, that’s for sure.’
That was one way of looking at the situation, I supposed.
‘And what have you got planned for Christmas, Jemma?’ I asked, keen to change the subject.
‘Well, we were supposed to be home alone,’ she told me, ‘just the four of us, but Tom’s sister is having a few problems so she’s coming to us now. That’s not an issue though. The kids love her and many hands make light work where children are concerned.’
That much I knew from experience. There had been more than one occasion in the past when I had wished I had the capability to clone myself.
‘Anyway,’ said Jemma, ‘that’s enough chitchat. We better crack on. Let’s get you some coffee and then I’ll set you to work.’
‘Excellent,’ I said, trying to sound not quite as nervous as I felt.
The town hall was a lovely building, but the acoustics left a lot to be desired and it wasn’t long before the sound of voices was drowning out the carols and cheesy Christmas tunes that were being pumped out through the sound system. Within minutes everyone who had signed up to ‘bake on the day’ in the kitchens, along with me, was up to their necks in flour, eggs, garish-coloured frosting and tiny silver balls. I was assigned to help distribute the ingredients, keep the Brownies on their toes washing and drying dishes and make sure the trays that came out of the ovens had the correct family label when they were transferred to the cooling racks for collection later in the day.
It was hot, noisy work but it was also good fun. Everyone was having a wonderful time and I forcibly pushed down my sadness that I hadn’t had the chance to come to an event like this with my mum and just focused on how lucky I was to be there, helping out and making the day fun for everyone else. The morning was so busy I didn’t have time to so much as glance at the clock and was consequently shocked when Angus and Dorothy arrived with the rest of the puddings.
‘It can’t be eleven already,’ I gasped, readjusting my headscarf with floury hands and smudging my nose in the process.
‘It isn’t,’ muttered Dorothy, ‘it’s half past. We’re rather behind, thanks to the tree auction.’
‘How’s it going out there?’ I asked.
Immersed in my own busy morning I’d completely forgotten about the trees and greenery being sold outside.
‘Marvellous,’ chuckled Angus. ‘We have all the trees for the hall.’
‘Inside and out,’ said Dorothy, rolling her eyes.
Just how many had Angus bid on, I wondered.
‘And now I’m ready to judge,’ he announced, rubbing his hands together with relish.
He looked as though he was thoroughly enjoying his day out in town.
‘Before you begin,’ I said, expertly tearing off another set of labels for the next batch of cakes that were due to come out of the oven, ‘what’s all this I’ve heard about you taking ownership of Santa’s sleigh for the next few weeks?’
Dorothy had already bustled off to help the WI ladies with the teas and coffees and Angus looked to where she was standing and back to me with eyes wide with surprise and more than a hint of guilt.
‘Oh look,’ he said, pointing over my shoulder. ‘There’s Amber from Skylark Farm. You must come and say hello.’
There was no point pushing the issue, especially not in this noisy hall where he would find it so easy to feign deafness, so, after checking there was someone else available to take up my post, I went with him to meet Amber, the lady partly responsible for the delectable sausage rolls Dorothy and I had been churning out to stock the freezer.
She told me all about how she had moved to the farm on the outskirts of Wynbridge with her partner Jake and set about turning around the fortunes of the place with the help of the orchards and a piggy diversification project. It turned out she was also partly responsible for my cider-induced wobbles the night after the switch-on as well.
‘I’m not helping out much at the moment though,’ she said, affectionately rubbing her heavily pregnant belly, ‘but as soon as this one’s born I’ll be back at it.’
I sat with her and her daughter, and her friend Lottie, chatting about what it was that they thought made the town so special.
‘There’s such a strong sense of community,’ explained Lottie, who ran a vintage caravanning holiday experience deep in the Fenland countryside. ‘And don’t get me wrong, I did have some opposition when I first announced my business idea, but it wasn’t long before I was welcomed to the fold and feeling like a local. I’d been a bit of a loner before I moved here,’ she admitted, ‘but by and large I was greeted with open arms and I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else in the world now.’
‘She’s also in love with the local vet who happens to be sex on legs,’ whispered Amber, ‘which may have something to do with her preoccupation with the place.’
Lottie stuck her tongue out at her friend and Honey, Amber’s daughter, gasped to see such bad manners from a grown-up.
‘And what about you, Anna?’
It was on the tip of my tongue to say that I was a bit of a loner too, but I didn’t. However, Lottie’s admission had got me thinking. The morning had been great fun, even for an outsider like me, and I realised how much better it could have been if Wynbridge had been my hometown and I really knew the people I had been helping.
I felt slightly nauseous as I realised that because I moved around so often I never gave myself the opportunity to put down roots anywhere. Three months was about my maximum timescale for staying anywhere and then I was off.
I let out a long sad breath, knowing that if I didn’t stop chopping and changing soon I was destined to always be the girl who was peering in through the window and trying to join in, but not truly belonging anywhere. Before I came to the Fens I didn’t care about my indifference to community or my solitary existence. I actually thrived on it, I liked the freedom because it stopped me having to face up to things, but now I wasn’t so sure.
Perhaps there was more to life than the contents of my suitcase suggested. Perhaps everyone’s assumption that I wouldn’t leave Wynthorpe Hall when my contract was up really was a possibility. Ever since I had decided not to run away and made my pact with Jamie to reclaim Christmas I had been ‘feeling things’ and really that wasn’t so bad, was it? I felt my face flush at the thought of really staying put.
‘Anna?’ said Amber, her voice cutting through my unsettling thoughts. ‘Lottie asked how long you’re going to be working at the hall.’
‘Sorry,’ I mumbled.
I opened my mouth to try and offer an answer, but what it would have been I never discovered, as I felt two hands come to rest on my shoulders and turned to see who Lottie and Amber were now smiling up at.
‘I’ve just come to see how you’re getting on.’
It was Jamie of course.
‘Good,’ I said, feeling flattered that he had found the time to come and find out. ‘It’s been fun.’
‘Really?’
I saw a quick glance pass between the two friends at the table. No doubt they were wondering why he’d questioned my response. After all, why wouldn’t I have been having fun?
‘Really,’ I said meaningfully. ‘Gosh, you’re hands are freezing.’
I could feel the cold reaching through to my skin, even though I was warm and wearing layers. Jamie grabbed a vacant chair, plonked himself in it and held out his hands, clearly expecting me to rub them and get his circulation going again.
‘I still have some gloves in my jacket from yesterd
ay,’ I said, ignoring the temptation. ‘I’ll get them if you like.’
By the time I got back to the table Amber had introduced Lottie to Jamie and he was ready to head back out and help with the clearing up.
‘I only came in to see how you were faring,’ he said, when I passed him the gloves.
I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not, but he sounded disappointed that I had disappeared for so long.
‘And I have a surprise for you later,’ he added.
‘Lucky Anna,’ laughed Amber and Lottie in perfect unison.
Now it was my turn to stick out my tongue.
‘What is it?’ I asked, turning my attention back to my security blanket.
‘You’ll see,’ he said mysteriously. ‘Nice to see you, ladies. And Anna?’
‘Yes?’
‘Please try and stop Dad from eating all the cakes. I thought he was supposed to be sampling them, not devouring them whole.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ I told him, ‘but I’m not making any promises.’
‘Well, well, well,’ teased Amber, even before he was out of earshot. ‘Aren’t you the lucky one?’
‘Lucky one?’ I frowned, my eyes now tracking the slow progress Angus was making along the table he was supposed to be judging. The plates he had left behind were looking appallingly depleted.
‘Yes,’ said Lottie, backing up her friend’s words. ‘Jamie’s quite a sight for sore eyes, isn’t he?’
‘Says the woman who’s dating sex on legs,’ I smiled back.
‘Is he single? Do I detect a little romance?’ she went on.
‘Mm,’ sighed Amber, blissfully. ‘He is single, although I daresay he’s had his fair share of romance while he’s been off on his travels.’
She was right, of course. Jamie had probably had women falling at his feet in every country he had visited on his way around the world, so why either of them would think he was even remotely interested in me was something of a mystery.