‘And Rainbow.’
I laugh. ‘I bet he loves Rainbow.’
Lija smiles too. ‘He does. What’s not to love? She is puppy, candyfloss, apples, blue sky.’
‘Does she like him?’
‘Rainbow likes everyone. She does not even notice he smells of wee and cabbage.’
‘Oh, Lija, you are terrible.’
‘Is true,’ she insists.
There might be a modicum of fustiness about him. Sometimes. But, well, he’s an old boy with no one to look after him properly. Suddenly, the thought of that brings tears to my eyes.
‘Why you cry?’ Lija asks sharply.
‘Hay fever,’ I say, wiping my eyes on my sleeve.
‘Is November.’
‘Must be these seed heads.’ I nod at the clematis, but she doesn’t look convinced. ‘How are things with you and Ashley?’ I ask to change the subject. When we left Lija was seeing a lovely young barman from the local pub, but she hasn’t mentioned him recently. There are a few signs that there’s been a man staying here – some trainers that I don’t recognise in the hall, a hoodie on the hooks in the kitchen, some sporty-type deodorant in the bathroom. They’re definitely not Lija’s.
She shakes her head. ‘No go. Was too nice.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame. I liked him. He seemed very sweet.’
Lija glowers at me in her own inimitable way. ‘I am OK alone.’
‘Better to be by yourself than with someone unsuitable.’
‘Yeah. I know.’ She stands up from the table and tidies her plate away. I notice that she scrapes half of her omelette into the bin.
‘You’re young,’ I offer. ‘There’ll be someone along soon. You wait and see.’
Flopping back into her seat like a surly teenager, Lija says, ‘I don’t want to talk about it. Mind your own business.’
Well, that’s me told. I pour her some more wine. The warmth of the kitchen and the alcohol are making me feel sleepy. Plus I hardly slept a wink last night or the night before which doesn’t help.
‘How’s Edie?’ Lija asks. Purely because she now wants to change the subject rather than from any desire to know what my dear sister is up to, I’m sure.
‘I haven’t talked to her much,’ I confess. ‘Not since Danny and I started travelling. You know what it’s like. I can hardly ever get a decent signal. The time difference doesn’t help either.’ I don’t want me and Edie to be completely estranged. We are, after all, related by blood. Albeit just Dad’s. But I still haven’t entirely forgiven my sister for what she did and I don’t want to become embroiled in her relationship difficulties with Brandon. She’s been with her married lover for years now and, though he says he will leave his wife for Edie, I can’t see it happening any time soon – nor would I want it to.
‘I haven’t even asked Edie what she’s doing for Christmas this year.’ Normally, Brandon is at home with his wife and children while Edie snatches a few crumbs of festive cheer wherever she can. Still, she’s a big girl now and only she can extricate herself from the mess she’s got herself into. She’s not that fond of it when I tell her so, however.
Chapter Twelve
I find Anthony’s electric razor still in the bathroom cabinet in the en suite in my old bedroom. Poor old Stan’s looking quite bristly, which I know he’ll hate, but he’s not up to standing in front of the bathroom mirror long enough for a wet shave. For a moment, I stare at the razor – left here for the rare nights when Anthony deigned to stay over – and feel as if my relationship with him is all a bad dream now. How could I have stayed with a man to whom I was so interminably unsuited, and for so long? I think of Danny and how we fit together, hand in glove, and can’t wait for him to come back on The Dreamcatcher.
Obviously, Lija hasn’t chucked any of my stuff out yet. Thankfully. Money is tight and I’m not sure how I’d manage to pay for storage. On The Dreamcatcher we have one wardrobe and a tiny spare room that’s at bursting point. End of. At some stage, I’ll need to have a major clear out. If I’m honest, most of the stuff in this cupboard should go straight in the charity shop bag. The tie-dye maxi-skirt was a mistake when I bought it. I thought I might try to have a hippy phase but I never found the courage to. Maybe I could put some of it on eBay and call it vintage.
I go downstairs and find a carrier bag for the shaver. ‘I’m going next door now,’ I say to Lija. ‘I’ll be back in the morning.’
‘I’ll come over with you. I haven’t seen Stinky Stan all day.’
So Lija and I put our coats on to walk over to Stan’s cottage. The night has drawn in now and it’s cold. The sharp sting of the weather reminds me that it won’t be too long until Christmas and I’m already starting to feel a little bit festive. I have no idea what to buy Danny for Christmas. Living on a narrowboat you can’t just buy stuff for the sake of it, but I’d like to surprise him with something.
‘I have been neglecting garden,’ Lija says as we stroll together.
‘It never looks its best at this time of year. We can take the tables in while I’m here and store them in the garage. They’re not robust enough to stand a winter outside.’
‘There’s always so much to think about,’ Lija sighs.
‘The joys of being a home and business owner,’ I remind her. ‘But you are enjoying it?’
‘Maybe,’ she says. ‘I think I like it better when you ran it and I was just waitress.’
I laugh. ‘You were never just a waitress!’ She has the good grace to smile too. I give her a hug. ‘Soon it will fit you like comfy slippers. I love the change of name,’ I tell her. ‘Sounds great.’
‘You don’t mind?’
‘It’s not Fay’s Cakes any more. I think The Café in the Garden is much better.’
‘Next year I will get a man in to do the garden.’
‘Perhaps another Danny Wilde will come passing by,’ I quip.
Lija just snorts.
‘You’ve not been using the Maid of Merryweather?’
She shakes her head. ‘It did not seem right. It is your boat. When the tourists stopped coming there was no need.’
It’s true that we never got much passing trade after the end of September. The regulars who live on the canal are out and about, but the people who hire narrowboats tend not to be hardy enough to cope with standing out on the back of the boat or working the locks in all weathers. Not actually sure I’m that hardy myself, but I’m getting used to it.
‘If you have The Dreamcatcher, you should sell it. Why need two boats?’
‘I could never do that. I feel it’s all that I have left of my parents. What I’d really love is to have the money to do her up. The poor old girl’s a bit of a mess.’ I don’t tell Lija about the leak or quite how bad the Maid of Merryweather is as she’d feel terrible. I should get down there in the next few days to try to dry the boat out a bit, stop the worst of the rot before winter.
In Stan’s house, we shout out ‘Hello!’ and I stoke up the fire with some logs while Lija takes the food parcel she’s brought into the kitchen. Then we go upstairs to see our patient.
Stan’s awake, sitting up in bed and reading. He puts his book to one side when we go in.
Lija flops down on the bed next to him. ‘How are you, old man? Not dead yet?’
‘Doing quite well,’ he says, sounding more cheerful than when I first arrived. ‘I feel there might be light at the end of the tunnel.’
‘What tunnel?’ Lija says, frowning.
‘It’s another figure of speech,’ I explain.
Lija tuts and throws her hands in the air. ‘Why are you people always saying stupid things?’
‘Can you manage anything to eat?’ I ask Stan. ‘We’ve brought some nice bread and cheese.’
Stan shakes his head. ‘I’m fine, Fay. Just resting is doing me a world of good.’
‘Great. I’ll put the kettle on though.’
‘That would be nice.’
‘Lija, can you read to Stan while I make the te
a?’
She looks horrified. ‘Read to him? The man is ninety-five, not five.’
‘I’m not quite that decrepit,’ Stan intervenes.
‘But nearly,’ Lija insists.
‘I’m a mere youth of ninety-three.’
‘You look a hundred,’ Lija bats back. ‘More.’
I hold up my hands. ‘Entertain him with your sparkling conversation then. I’m going to make tea.’
‘We will bring Rainbow next time. She will talk him to death.’
‘My kind of nursing care tends to be more focused on keeping the patient alive,’ I point out.
‘You were looking after Miranda. She died.’
‘Thanks for that candid observation.’
‘You’re doing a grand job,’ Stan says.
‘I don’t think you are ill at all, old man. I think you like to lie in bed and be entertained by pretty ladies.’
Stan chuckles and it sets off a coughing spasm again, though his chest doesn’t sound quite so weak as before. Hopefully, the antibiotics will have kicked in by now.
‘Oh, it’s a long, long time since that happened,’ he says when he has recovered.
‘I should think so.’ Lija looks horrified. ‘You are seriously old person.’
I leave Lija teasing Stan in her own inimitable way, but he does seem to lap it up, bless him.
When we’ve had tea together, Lija goes back to the house. I help Stan to run the razor round his chin and take off the worst of the bristles.
‘You look better now,’ I say. ‘Not quite so bedraggled.’
He feels his smooth chin. ‘I feel a million dollars,’ he says. ‘You’re an angel.’
‘A tired one.’ I give a yawn. Last night’s lack of sleep is catching up with me. ‘I’ll be on the sofa. If you need me, just holler.’
‘You don’t need to do this,’ Stan says.
‘I do.’ I plant a kiss on his papery skin. ‘Taken all your tablets?’
He nods.
‘Sleep tight.’
Downstairs, I FaceTime Danny and even though it’s late, he’s still making his way back on The Dreamcatcher. I can hear the gentle thrum of the engine and the swish of the water down the phone line. He’s standing on the back of the boat, hat pulled down, wrapped up against the cold, light on to enable him to pick his way down the canal in the dark. I wish I was there to snuggle up against him. He yawns sleepily, as do I.
‘Call it a day,’ I say. ‘I don’t want you to get exhausted and fall in or crash the boat.’
‘I’ll moor up shortly,’ Danny agrees. ‘I wanted to make some headway. Now that I’m on the way, I just want to be with you.’
‘I like the sound of that,’ I say, dreamily.
‘I’ll be back soon,’ he says. ‘Not long now.’
And, with that thought in my head, I lie on Stan’s lumpy sofa and fall fast asleep.
Chapter Thirteen
The time seems to whizz by. The days are colder, shorter. Mist hangs over the garden for most of the morning. The golden confetti of fallen leaves covers the ground. Life in the café is busy every day. December will hit us before we know it.
In the kitchen we can hardly keep up with the constant stream of Christmas afternoon teas. The festive season is truly in full swing now and I’m sure it starts earlier every year – or is that an age thing? I don’t think I’ve ever baked so many mince pies. I am a mince-pie making machine! At this rate, I might never want to see another one again. I make cupcakes topped with coconut that looks like snow and others topped with chocolate fondant, decorated to look like reindeers. While I’ve got my Christmas baking mojo on, I try a new recipe – a white chocolate tray bake flavoured with cinnamon, nutmeg and orange – which I think will be a big hit. Lija stomps about, grumbling. Rainbow continues to talk the hind legs off any passing donkey.
‘My nan says that Blackpool and Paris have both got the SAME tower.’ Rainbow stacks dainty sandwiches on a tiered stand. Brie and cranberry, turkey with sage stuffing, smoked salmon with creamed horseradish mayonnaise. We have twenty people booked in this afternoon – full capacity in the dining room – and we’ll be busy, busy, busy. ‘So why would you go to Paris? You need a passport and EVERYTHING. But Blackpool’s in this country. At least I think it is. It’s not anywhere else, is it? Is it, Fay, is it?’
‘No,’ I assure her. ‘It’s definitely in this country.’
‘So why would you go? DUH? What has PARIS got that Blackpool hasn’t?’
‘The French,’ I offer.
‘Yeah. I suppose.’ She eats one of the sandwiches with a thoughtful look on her face.
The good thing about Rainbow’s conversations is that she rarely requires you to join in with them and, when you do, it’s for minimal input. I carry on lifting mince pies out of the oven. They’re golden brown, bubbling with mincemeat and smell wonderful. I’ll put a couple aside for Stan.
Thankfully, he seems to be through the worst of his illness and is getting a little stronger every day. He’s out of bed now and I’ve got him a walking frame to use. He hates it and it’s awful to see him shuffling along when he was so sprightly, but I feel if we can get him through the winter then he’ll be his old self by the spring again. Fingers – and everything else – crossed. He has to get better. I can’t envisage a life without this dear old soul in it.
The best news of all is that Danny is getting ever closer on The Dreamcatcher. He should be here in the next few days and his arrival can’t come soon enough. I feel as if I’ve lost a limb without him.
‘Did unicorns ever exist? Like dinosaurs?’ Rainbow asks, apropos of nothing. ‘My mate Chelsey says they did. So could they, like, bring them back to life and EVERYTHING, like in Jurassic Park? Unicorn Land would be TOTALLY cool. They wouldn’t eat you like the dinosaurs do. It would be all pink and SPARKLY. Can you get yellow unicorns?’
‘I’ve never seen one,’ I say drily, which is totally lost on Rainbow.
I’m slicing the Christmas cake for the afternoon tea when the back door opens. I don’t think we’re expecting anyone, so I turn to see who it is. Danny’s standing there beaming widely.
My heart tries to jump out of my chest and I stand there, frozen, knife in hand, just staring at him. It reminds me of the first day that he came into my life when he walked into my kitchen and filled it with his strong, youthful presence. From that moment I was smitten and still am.
‘Hey.’ Danny winks at me. ‘Surprise, surprise.’
All I can do is stand and shake. I want to do nothing more than hold him but, if I’m not careful, I feel that I might cry with joy and never stop.
‘OMG!’ Rainbow shouts. Our young friend has no such inhibitions. In a second she’s across the room and launching herself at Danny.
‘It’s YOU!’ She wraps her arms round him and plants a wet kiss on his cheek. To say that he looks startled is an understatement. At his feet, Diggery barks for all he’s worth. ‘Fay showed me a photo of you and EVERYTHING. We didn’t think you’d be back for DAYS! Did we, Fay?’
‘No,’ I agree, finally finding my voice. ‘We thought you were still on the canal.’
He still hasn’t taken his eyes from me. ‘I thought I’d sneak in and give you a surprise.’
‘Well, you FLIPPING did!’ Rainbow says.
Gently, Danny unpeels her from him. ‘I’m thinking that you must be Rainbow.’
‘How did you know?’ she gasps in amazement.
‘I’ve heard a lot about you,’ he says.
‘OMG.’ She lets him go and runs out of the room. ‘This is IMMENSE. Lija! Lija! DANNY’S here!’
Then he turns to me and grins. ‘Do you have a hug for me too?’
In a distinctly more decorous way, but with no less enthusiasm in my heart, I go to him and hold him tightly. It’s going to be very hard to let him go and return to my mince pies for the rest of the day.
‘I didn’t realise that you were so close to home.’ I stroke his cheek, still not quite believing t
hat he’s back so soon. ‘You don’t know how wonderful it is to see you.’
He winks. ‘I can make a good guess.’ From behind his back he produces a bunch of holly complete with luscious red berries. ‘For you. I picked it along the way. Merry Christmas.’
Taking the holly from him, I say, ‘Now the Christmas countdown can really start.’ I bend and fuss Diggery’s ears, sending him into a frenzy of joy. ‘Hello, boy. I’ve missed you.’ Then, to Danny, ‘How did you get back here so quickly?’
‘I’ve put in some long hours,’ he says, and I see that he looks unusually tired. ‘It will be good to stay still for a few days.’
‘A few days.’ I get a brief palpitation. ‘I hope we’ll be here longer than that?’
‘Oh, yeah. Of course. We’ll stay here until after Christmas, for sure.’
I was worried for a moment that Danny was keen to move on again, but I definitely want to be here until Stan’s back to his old self. I don’t give voice to my thoughts that this could be next spring.
‘How’s Stan?’
As always, he seems to read my mind. ‘Better. Doing really well. I think we had a close shave there though,’ I whisper. ‘I’m glad I came back when I did.’
My concern is that we’re still living on borrowed time. An illness like that at Stan’s age can really knock you back.
Lija and Rainbow come back into the kitchen. Rainbow’s little cheeks are pink with excitement. I think she’s already in love with Danny. Even Lija smiles and she’s been prickly all morning. She was holed up in the office tackling the mountain of paperwork that’s built up – at my insistence. Whenever I ventured in to take her tea or biscuits, she snarled at me. She is, however, beaming at Danny.
‘So you are back, Hot Stuff?’
‘Yeah,’ Danny says. ‘Good to see you.’
Lija throws a glance at me. ‘Maybe now she will stop mooning round like kicked puppy.’ She goes to lean against him and he slings an arm round her shoulders.
‘What’s it like being a businesswoman?’
Christmas Cakes and Mistletoe Nights Page 7