Christmas at the Little Village Bakery

by Tilly Tennant

  Darcie gave the brightest smile she could muster as she fingered the mobile phone in her shoulder bag and wondered how far away Dylan was.

  Spencer arrived at the Dog and Hare around six so he could help Colleen set up, leaving his parents to follow on when they were ready. He got there to find that Tori had taken her parents to the Old Bakery for coffee and cake. Millie wouldn’t have been open at that hour, but Colleen said that Tori had called her and she had agreed to open up for them especially. Spencer couldn’t help a small smile at the thought. It was just like Millie to put herself out to help a friend in need, and after their chat earlier that day she probably understood the situation perfectly. He only hoped the Dempseys’ scathing opinions of everything else in Honeybourne wouldn’t be extended to Millie’s pride and joy when she had gone to so much trouble to make them welcome.

  He was humming along to ‘Merry Christmas Everyone’ as he wiped down the top of the bar, more relaxed than he had been in some time, when Colleen unlocked the doors of the Dog and Hare. For the first time since he had arrived home, it really was beginning to feel like Christmas. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Perhaps his nerves had made him overreact to things that had been said today, and tomorrow, when their jet lag had worn off and he was more himself again, he would be able to get on better with Tori’s parents. They might even grow to like him and Honeybourne a little before they went back home. After all, it was Christmas, the time of goodwill and miracles… Although it might take a miracle and a half to get them to like him if their last couple of meetings was anything to go by. He wasn’t the catch of the century, he knew that, but he wasn’t a serial killer or the village idiot, and he deserved a chance, surely. Well, tonight, he was going to show them that they were wrong, and that he was the man to make Tori happy.

  Ruth was the first person to totter in shortly after Colleen had opened up. Spencer gave her a smile.

  ‘What can I get you, Ruth?’

  ‘I’ve just seen your girlfriend’s parents,’ she said, ignoring his question. ‘They’re very posh, aren’t they?’

  ‘A bit,’ Spencer replied warily. ‘Where were they?’

  ‘Coming out of the bakery. They were with Millie.’

  ‘Oh? And how did they look?’

  Ruth frowned. ‘Very boring clothes – his and hers matching coats.’

  ‘No,’ Spencer laughed, ‘I mean did they seem as if they were enjoying themselves?’

  ‘Well—,’ Ruth began, but was cut short as the doors of the pub opened.

  They both turned to look, and Tori came in, followed by her parents. They were smiling and laughing; whatever Millie had done, it seemed she’d put them in a much better mood.

  ‘Perfectly lovely…’ Spencer heard Mrs Dempsey say. ‘And her husband too—’

  ‘Her boyfriend,’ Tori corrected.

  Mrs Dempsey waved her hand dismissively. ‘Husband in all but name…’

  ‘It’s a shame we had to cut the visit short,’ Mr Dempsey said.

  ‘Well, Dylan did have to run Darcie to her party,’ Tori said. ‘And Millie had to feed Oscar. But I’m sure we can do it again if they’re free before you go home.’

  ‘Oh, I’d love some more of that divine… what was that cake called again? The strange one I really liked?’ Mrs Dempsey asked.

  ‘I think it was bread and butter pudding,’ Tori said. ‘But I might be getting mixed up – she got so many out.’ She looked up and gave Spencer a dazzling smile. ‘Hey, Popsicle, how was your afternoon?’

  ‘Not as good as yours by the sounds of it,’ Spencer replied as she leaned over the bar to kiss him. ‘They sound a lot happier,’ he added in a whisper.

  Tori frowned. ‘They were happy before.’

  ‘Oh…’ Spencer pulled away and caught their expressions darken as they turned their attention to him. If they’d been happy all along, he wouldn’t fancy seeing them in a really bad mood. ‘Can I get you all a drink?’ he asked.

  Ruth cleared her throat. ‘I think you were serving me.’

  ‘But I asked you and you didn’t order,’ Spencer replied.

  ‘That doesn’t mean I don’t want anything,’ Ruth huffed. ‘I just hadn’t made up my mind what I wanted.’ She tutted as she pulled out her purse. ‘This place is going to the dogs without Doug in charge…’ she muttered.

  Spencer gave Tori and her parents an apologetic shrug. ‘I’ll get you that drink once I’ve sorted Ruth out.’

  ‘Well, she was already waiting,’ Mr Dempsey said.

  ‘Thank you!’ Ruth turned to him and almost curtsied in the most comical way. ‘I had been waiting…’ She gave a theatrical sigh. ‘Young people today are so impatient.’

  ‘They are,’ Mrs Dempsey agreed. ‘It’s all instant gratification these days.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ruth said, although Spencer was pretty sure that the conversation was already losing her as she returned her attention back to her purse, peering in and then counting out coins onto the bar.

  ‘Maybe you’d like to sit down, I’ll come and take an order from you,’ Spencer said to the Dempseys. He was quite sure that whatever he said or did was going to be wrong so it was better to stay silent on the subject of Ruth and how awkward she was capable of being, not to mention her terrible memory. She might well have come into the pub intending to buy a drink, but it would take her another twenty minutes to remember what it was she had wanted, if it even was what she had come in for at all. Maybe it was better just to shove Tori’s parents into a corner and hope they stayed out of the way for the rest of the evening.

  ‘Good idea,’ Tori said, ushering her parents to a free table.

  As he had predicted, Ruth stood staring vacantly at the row of optics on the back shelf, while Spencer drummed on the bar with his fingers and waited. He glanced up to see Mrs Dempsey grimace as she put her hand on the table, and heard her say something about it being sticky. He let out a sigh. Colleen wasn’t quite keeping the pub as spick and span as she usually would, but she was doing her best and he felt sorry for her having this added burden now. Besides, what was an English pub without a bit of spilled beer on the tables from time to time? If they wanted authenticity, you didn’t get more authentic than that.

  ‘I think I’ll have a nice brandy and lemonade,’ Ruth said, shaking him from his thoughts. She nudged a small pile of loose change across the bar towards him. ‘I believe that should be the correct amount.’

  Spencer turned to prepare the drink. When he turned back, Ruth had gone over to the table where Tori was sitting with her parents and had made herself comfortable. Spencer could hardly contain his groan. Ruth would drive them insane within half an hour and that wasn’t the mood he wanted them in. He scraped the coins from the bar and dropped them into the till before taking her drink over.

  ‘One brandy and lemonade…’ He looked at Tori and her parents. ‘Can I get you anything? A pint of bitter, perhaps? Sample the local brew?’

  ‘My parents don’t drink,’ Tori said awkwardly. ‘I’m pretty sure I mentioned that a few times before.’

  ‘No… um, I mean, maybe you did…’ Spencer said, shoving a hand through his hair and wishing he could rewind. ‘I forgot, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Three coffees will be just fine,’ Mr Dempsey said.

  Spencer glanced at Tori, who had been drinking like the proverbial fish the previous night. But she didn’t correct the order, so Spencer guessed that she was being on her best behaviour tonight. ‘Three coffees,’ he repeated, and then went off to find Colleen, who was in the kitchen, to see if she could assist as there were no hot drink facilities on the bar. As he left he could hear Ruth launch into full gossip mode. God only knew what she would tell them but there wasn’t much he could do except grin and bear it.

  Colleen set straight to work on the drinks without a bit of fuss, and as Spencer returned to the bar, Frank Stephenson greeted him with an order for a pint of bitter. Shortly afterwards the owners of the newsagent arrived, followed by Saul and Jim (who were never
seen apart) and then Jasmine, who called for a bottle of wine to take out to Millie’s as she was sitting with her while Dylan and Darcie were out for the evening. The pub filled in this manner for the next hour or so and Spencer was kept busy enough to avoid having to answer the complaints that he could see, every time he looked over, were coming from the Dempseys’ table. He saw Mrs Dempsey grimace at the coffee, and then Mr Dempsey wobble the table violently (presumably to demonstrate its poor condition) and Tori’s body language as she tried desperately to get rid of Ruth. Colleen came through from the kitchen to turn up the Christmas music and to switch on the quiz machine, so that it began to whirr and bleep from the back of the room, and Spencer looked across to see Mrs Dempsey roll her eyes at the increased noise. Doug made an appearance in the bar in his wheelchair, and made a point of going to speak to them, which seemed to make them look a little happier as they chatted away.

  But then Spencer’s parents arrived. He flung open the hatch to get out from behind the bar and sprinted over to them before they could spot Tori.

  ‘Mum, Dad – they’re here, but they’re still grumpy,’ he hissed.

  ‘But we have to go and talk to them,’ Jenny replied, looking confused.

  ‘I know but…’ How could he ask them to be a little bit less… them? ‘They’re teetotal. I don’t suppose you and Dad could lay off the sauce a bit tonight?’

  Jenny stared at him. ‘You make it sound like we’re a couple of alcoholics!’

  ‘I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, ignore me, I’m a wreck.’

  ‘You are,’ Lewis said, ‘and you need to get it together! Surely four adults can get along for a few hours for the sake of our kids and accept each other, warts and all.’

  ‘It’s not the warts I’m worried about,’ Spencer said.

  ‘You’re fretting too much, it’ll be fine.’ Lewis clapped him on the back. ‘Come on, take us over and introduce us and I’m sure we can do the rest.’

  Spencer nodded and they followed him to the table where Ruth could be heard sharing rather intimate details of thirty-year-old village scandals. Spencer gave a polite cough and she spun around.

  ‘Oh, hello!’ she said, grinning at Lewis and Jenny. ‘Come to join us?’

  ‘We have,’ Lewis smiled.

  ‘Although Colleen did say she needed some extra help in the kitchen earlier,’ Spencer added. ‘And I don’t know who can help because I’m rushed off my feet behind the bar—’

  Ruth leapt up. ‘Why didn’t you say so? I’ll go and see what she needs. I don’t know why people just don’t ask…’ she continued as she hurried off to the kitchens.

  ‘That was a masterstroke,’ Tori said, throwing Spencer a smile.

  He shrugged. ‘I figured you needed a break. And by the time she’s worked out that Colleen doesn’t need her after all, she’ll have forgotten who she was talking to.’

  ‘That seems a bit mean,’ Mrs Dempsey said.

  ‘Oh, you don’t know Ruth Evans,’ Lewis replied. ‘She won’t be bothered one bit, and she can always find her entertainment elsewhere.’ He stuck out his hand. ‘Lewis Johns…’

  ‘Todd Dempsey,’ Tori’s father replied, shaking hands. ‘And my wife, Adrienne.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Lewis replied, shaking hers too.

  ‘And I’m Jenny,’ Spencer’s mother added, greeting them both in the same way.

  Spencer glanced at the bar where Frank Stephenson was waiting with an empty glass. He looked back at the table full of parents. It all seemed very civil as they smiled at each other. Maybe it would be ok after all. It would have to be for now anyway, as his pint-pulling services were needed.

  Darcie stood with her back against the wall of the living room, clutching her third beer of the night and wondering where Nathan had disappeared to. She watched as the room bounced to a dance tune she’d never heard before, people’s drinks splashing as they danced. The floor was littered with broken crisps and crumbs, and an upturned biscuit tin lid sat on a shelf, full of cigarette butts. To her right a boy had his hand up a girl’s top and his tongue down her throat. To her left, two girls had their hands in each other’s bras and tongues down each other’s throats. Why had Darcie thought this was a good idea? She was a stick in the mud, but tonight she had tried, and for a while she had even enjoyed herself. Nathan was fun, and he was cute, and his friends were funny and entertaining, but it seemed they had all soon got bored of keeping the new girl company and had drifted off to more familiar companions – even Nathan. He had spotted a friend, told Darcie he would be right back, and she hadn’t seen him since. That was half an hour ago. It wasn’t that she was particularly needy, but his company would be nice and infinitely better than being the loser in the corner nobody wanted to talk to.

  She pulled her phone from her bag and checked the display. No calls or texts. Not that she expected any, but she had wondered whether Millie or Dylan would have checked up on her. She supposed that they had assumed she needed space, and she would call if she wanted them. Her finger hovered over the home button. She could call, and Dylan would come and get her, right now if she asked. But she didn’t want to be that pathetic.

  Suddenly, above the music and cheering, she heard a screech. And then Nathan’s voice. He sounded angry, and he must have been considering the volume of his shout. She turned to search for him, and saw a girl grab his arm and yank him back into the hallway as he tried to get through the living room door.

  ‘I didn’t say we were finished!’ she screamed.

  ‘You’re making yourself look like a twat,’ Nathan shouted in reply. He shook his arm free, and as he made eye contact with Darcie, his face tried to convey some sort of apology, but Darcie wasn’t fooled. It was clear there was history here and she’d been dragged right into the middle of it. She could have slapped herself for being so stupid. Now seemed like a good time to get her coat and make that call to Dylan.

  Without another thought, she made her way to the doorway with the intention of slipping past them both while they were preoccupied with their argument, getting her coat and leaving as quickly and quietly as possible.

  ‘Darcie…’ Nathan called as she squeezed past them. ‘Darcie, you’re not going?’

  ‘I think it’s best,’ she replied.

  ‘Darcie!’ the girl mimicked. ‘Ooh, what a perfectly cute name! You don’t look like Nathan’s usual type to me.’

  ‘Back off, Carly!’ Nathan warned.

  ‘Or what?’ Carly shoved him hard and, taken by surprise, he was thrown off balance onto the floor. ‘I need a word with Darcie, because she needs to learn to keep her filthy paws off men who don’t belong to her.’

  Nathan scrambled to his feet, but too late – Carly slammed into Darcie and pinned her against the wall. Darcie grimaced at the stink of alcohol and stale cigarettes on her breath. It was strange, the thoughts that whirled through Darcie’s head at this point, and the overwhelming one was that this girl could have been pretty if her face hadn’t been painted with far too much make-up and twisted with loathing and bitterness.

  ‘Nathan belongs to me,’ Carly hissed, ‘and no chubby little tart is going to take him… alright?’

  ‘I wasn’t trying to—’ Darcie began, but Nathan dragged Carly away.

  ‘Get off her you nutjob!’ he shouted. ‘We are finished! Why can’t you get that through your thick head?’

  ‘Come off it, Nathan,’ Carly sneered. ‘The only reason this sad specimen is here is to try and make me jealous and you know it. Although you didn’t really think I’d be worried by this…’ She waved a dismissive hand up and down at Darcie. ‘Please. You’ve never been into fat girls so you obviously just invited someone who was desperate enough to say yes.’

  Darcie stared at them, her eyes filling with tears. She had known it all along. Of course a boy like Nathan wouldn’t have ever noticed a girl like her, not in a million years. She was chubby and plain and boring – she wasn’t even clever or in a good job. She was nobody, and she alwa
ys would be. No wonder all her relationships had failed.

  ‘Darcie…’ Nathan began, but she shook her head forcefully.

  ‘It’s fine,’ she said, rubbing a hand over her eyes and drawing herself up to her full height. ‘I see how things are.’

  ‘No, you don’t!’ Nathan pleaded. ‘Just give me a chance to explain!’

  Darcie looked at him, and then she caught the sneering grin stretched across Carly’s face. Whether Nathan had intended this or not, she wasn’t staying to be humiliated any longer. She may be chubby and boring, but that didn’t give anyone the right to treat her with such contempt.

  ‘He’s all yours,’ she said quietly, before pushing past them and out of the front door.

  Once she was out of the garden, Darcie started to run. Nobody came after her, and she supposed that Nathan had either been prevented by Carly or that he didn’t care enough to try and catch up to explain. It didn’t matter in the end because all Darcie wanted to do was get away. She hadn’t even picked up her coat, but she wasn’t going back in and would just have to consider it lost now. If that was the worst outcome of the evening then it was a small sacrifice. The streets around her blurred with her tears; even if she had known them, she wouldn’t have had a clue where she was going. All she knew was she had to walk and, as her breath came in stuttering gasps, she needed to calm down. The evening’s events weren’t something she wanted to drag Millie and Dylan into, and Dylan finding her a sodden mess would lead to awkward questions with possibly awkward consequences.

  But as she continued to walk, she realised that she was hopelessly lost. And she was freezing too. She wrapped her arms tight around herself in a bid to stop the shivering, her toes burning with the cold in Millie’s unsuitable shoes. Forced to admit defeat, she pulled her phone from her bag and dialled Dylan’s number.

  ‘Had enough already?’ His warm tones came from down the line and it was all Darcie could do not to break down.