by Jane Linfoot
It’s only a short walk from the shop to the churchyard, with Gracie hanging onto my hand and skipping, while Rory carries Teddie. Not that I come here often. But I can make my way to the pale headstone by the end wall without even looking.
Rory stoops down and gets the tiny bush out of the bag, and pushes the pot into the ground. ‘It’s nice to find a holly with so many berries on. Look, Berry, there’s still frost on the grass too.’
I take out the roses and bind them with a black and white ribbon that came from the tree at Sophie and Saffy’s wedding. As I bend down and put them beside the pot of holly I’m sniffing away my tears. Then, as I get up, Rory’s spare arm comes around me and I bury my face in the soft Diesel-scented folds of his windcheater, and stay there for a long time.
When I finally prise myself away, we walk around the paths between the graves, taking a while to wind our way back to the world outside.
‘Are you very sad, Holses?’ Gracie’s hopping now, pulling on my hand. ‘Do you want your mummy?’ She stops tugging and begins to rub the sleeve of my furry leopard coat. ‘Don’t worry, your Feather Christmas presents will make you better.’
The corners of Rory’s eyes crinkle as he smiles at me over her head. ‘Berry’s thinking about someone she loved very much. And promising she’s going to be brave from now on.’
Gracie does another lurch forward. ‘Brave like you … going to the shops?’
‘Did I say that, Gracie?’ He laughs as he holds her spare hand to help her down the worn stone steps that lead back down to the pavement. ‘I’ll let you know if I’m brave or crazy, once we’re back.’
* *
In fact it’s hours, and many twinkly shops later, before Rory’s satisfied that the pile of carriers in the back of the beer-mobile is huge enough. For a reluctant shopper, he turns out to have a knack for seeing past the tinsel to find perfect gifts. He also manages to dodge to the tills without Gracie noticing what he’s carrying. Then we pop into the Fun Palace at the Crab and Pilchard for a late lunch, where Gracie’s way more interested in the food than the play area. She demolishes her own pizza on a slate, then works her way through our beer-battered fish and chips too.
And afterwards we go back to Brides by the Sea for our final stop of the day. We’re with Sera in her studio, with its lovely brick walls and fabric swatches, measuring Gracie for my own surprise present, when Jess comes rushing up the stairs.
‘Lovely, now you’re all here, I can tell you about the new plans for Christmas.’ Somehow she’s purring and beaming both at the same time. ‘It’s obviously going to be too much for Poppy to entertain at the farm as she is. So it’s all settled. Everything’s transferring to the Manor. You’re all invited, and there’s quite enough room for everyone to stay overnight. Lily and Kip will be there. Who knows, we might even persuade Jules to come too.’
However thrilled Jess looks, and however practical this is, I’m still worried. ‘How’s Poppy taking it?’
Jess pulls the corners of her mouth down. ‘She’s not happy. But we’ve all decided it’s the best thing for her and the baby. She turns to Rory. ‘You and the children will come, won’t you?’
Rory sends her a grateful grin. ‘Thanks, we’d love to. Sorry we’re a last-minute addition.’
From the way Jess squeezes his hand, she doesn’t mind at all. She goes all twinkly when she looks at Sera too. ‘The Manor’s the perfect place for you and Johnny to celebrate your first anniversary.’ It was this time last year when Sera and Johnny got together at her sister, Alice’s massive country-house Christmas wedding.
Sera pushes back her tangle of blonde curls, puts the tape measure back on the bench, and wipes her hands on the back of her ragged denim shorts. ‘Thanks, Jess, that couldn’t be better. But a whole year? I can’t believe it’s gone so fast.’
Jess narrows her eyes as she looks at me. ‘So, Holly, what’s all this nonsense I hear about you spending the day on your own?’ She doesn’t leave room to explain. ‘Bart’s orders. Even if we have to drag you, you’re coming. We won’t take “no” for an answer, okay?’ When Jess is this fierce, she’s damned scary.
‘Okay. Thank you, that’ll be brill.’ I daren’t say anything else. But to my surprise, I find I mean it.
Rory jumps in. ‘Seeing we’re the early risers, we’ll be round to pick you up at ten, Berry. Snow permitting.’ He grins at Jess. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t let her wriggle out of it.’
Sera’s eyes light up. ‘It was so beautiful when it snowed for Alice’s wedding. Even though it blocked the roads so no one could get there. Is snow on the forecast, then?’
Rory nods. ‘It probably isn’t going to happen. But if it does, Berry, we promise to battle through the drifts to reach you. Although obviously we won’t be able to set off until after we’ve built a snowman.’
Jess’s eyes are shining. ‘You absolutely have to come, Holly. Dress code is anything goes, so long as it includes a Christmas jumper.’
Rory narrows his eyes at me. ‘If you haven’t got one here, I’ll lend you one of mine.’
‘Lovely.’ Hopefully my enthusiasm hides that he read my thought balloon, yet again.
Jess inclines her head to me. ‘By the way, Holly, did Sera tell you Luc popped in looking for you earlier?’
Sera clasps her hand to her mouth. ‘Oops! Sorry, Hols.’ She’s well known for being ditsy, and this is why.
At least her apology gives me the time to cover up that my stomach just plummeted to the basement, then bounced back up again. After waiting all day yesterday, I’d given up hope. All I manage in reply is a gulp.
Jess is chiding me. ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell us he looks like a film star? Now we’ve seen him, we completely understand what all the fuss is about. You’re a hundred per cent right not to give up on that one, Holly.’ Her eyebrows are wiggling excitedly. ‘He’s at the Harbourside with a group of friends. There’s still all the time in the world for him to come good.’
Rory’s face falls as he takes hold of Gracie’s hand. ‘We’d better be off, then. Immie’s promised us tea and cake in return for a cuddle with Teddie while I wrap. We can’t turn down offers like that.’ He lets out a sigh. ‘Thanks for all the help, HB. We’ll see you first thing, then.’
Whatever hopes Jess had for Luc returning, they come to nothing. I work in the White Room until ten p.m., just in case. As I take a final look down the mews, I’m concentrating so hard that at first I read the flecks falling from the sky as reflections. By the time I’ve logged them as snowfall, they’re already a blizzard.
Chapter 37
Monday 25th December
In the attic flat at Brides by the Sea: Head in the clouds
When I wake on Christmas morning, the bedroom is surprisingly bright. There’s so much snow clinging to the glass of the little porthole, I have to open the window and clear it away before I can get a view across the bay. As I brush the ice crystals off the slates and look out across a roofscape of white plains, my insides deflate. Down below the sea and the sky are the same light grey, merging somewhere far in the distance. Out along the bay the people out on early walks with their dogs are battling into the wind, their figures dark against the dazzling white clumps along the sand.
Snow all the way to the edge of the sea? I’ve never seen that before.
Sticking my feet into my leopard pumps, I whip down the four flights of stairs to the shop. As I peer past the snowy tulle skirts in the window of the White Room, the snow outside in the mews is layered across the cobbles in a thick downy quilt. I know it’s hopeless to think Rory can get here with falls like this, but I slide back the lock on the door all the same. I have no idea why the hell I feel this wretched when spending this Christmas day alone is the ideal I’ve been working towards for months. Then, trying not to notice how eerily quiet it is, I stamp back upstairs and stick some milk in a pan.
PJ’s, hot chocolate, cosy duvet. Friends Season 1 here I come.
Even if I’m looking forw
ard to the day a lot less than I’d imagined, breakfast is shaping up okay. The only way it could be better is if yesterday’s doughnuts hadn’t gone crusty overnight. If I had to choose again, I’d possibly go for jam rather than custard. But considering how the weather’s turned, the twelve pack that felt excessive when I nipped out late on Christmas Eve afternoon seems like startling good judgement this morning.
But when I tuck myself back under the covers and start on my Friends-fest, far from me falling out of bed laughing, Jennifer Aniston looks so young, she’s making me feel like an OAP. How did I ever think a whole day alone was going to be do-able, let alone fun? Ever since I arrived, I’ve been busy and surrounded by crowds of people. Somehow, my old hermit routine is a shock I’m not prepared for.
Four episodes in, I press pause and stick my head under the duvet. I’m sniffing and reaching for a tissue when I hear voices.
‘Is this Holsie’s house? Why are there so many stairs?’
There’s a low, familiar laugh. ‘Because Berry lives up in the sky.’
‘Gracie? Rory?’ Mortified doesn’t begin to cover that they’ve caught me crying. But as for them being here, if I’d looked in my doughnut box and found my custard rocks had turned into a Krispy Kreme selection, my stomach wouldn’t be whooshing with any more excitement than it is now.
Gracie’s eyes are huge as I peep out from under the duvet. ‘Does Feather Christmas’s reindeers fly up here, Hols?’
Rory’s face is split in a grin. ‘Holly Christmas! Seeing as this is twenty questions, why are you still in your pyjamas when it’s time to go?’ His grin slowly turns into a knowing smile. ‘Unless your Christmas present to me is asking me to meet you in Paris, via your pyjamas?’ Even though we both know it’s bull, he never gives up.
I’m trying to shut him up. ‘We’ll see once Christmas is over.’
‘I’ll take that as a yes, then?’ He doesn’t get any less tease-y.
‘Ask me again next time you see them.’ Obviously there won’t be a next time. Part of me is aching inside that he won’t be crashing in and waking me up with the smell of cooking bacon. That those pre-wedding breakfasts are over. However seductive Rory’s plans sound and however much I man up, with my savings as they are I can’t make the figures work. There isn’t enough for me to get a business up and running, and eat too. ‘But how did you get here? The mews looked impassable. I thought you weren’t coming.’
‘The main roads are fine.’ His brow wrinkles into a frown. ‘I promised I’d be here, Berry. If it meant pulling you ten miles on a sledge, I’d still have come to get you.’
Something about the way he looks at me as he says that makes my insides turn all soft. Just for a second I’m regretting that I wasn’t out of bed to get a ‘Happy Christmas’ hug. Although however much I’d like to bury my head in his neck, it’s probably best that I didn’t, because I might not have wanted to let go. So when Gracie dips around Rory’s ragged jeans and holds a furry toy out to me, I’m grateful for the diversion.
When I see what it is, I can’t help laughing. ‘An Olaf meerkat? Isn’t he fab?’
Gracie’s beam couldn’t be any bigger, although she’s still holding snowman tightly too. ‘Feather Christmas brought him.’
Rory cuts in. ‘I know we’re mashing our genres here, but it was your voice in my head telling me he was too cute to leave in the shop.’ For a guy who once thought Frozen was what peas are, he’s caught up fast.
As I smile, I realise what’s missing from Rory’s hip. ‘Where’s Teddie?’
‘Where do you think? It’s hard to prise him away from Immie these days.’ He looks at his phone. ‘If you’d like to get ready, that would be good. We need to call round by Roaring Waves to get some beer and fizz for Bart and Jess.’
I pick up my best jeans and a Topshop shirt. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’
‘Great. Don’t forget your wellies.’ Just before Rory backs out of the room, he drops a carrier bag onto the bed. ‘That’s the Christmas jumper I promised you. You put that on and I’ll get the Christmas tunes ready.’
I tip it out onto the quilt, but instead of the threadbare Bad Elf Beer hoody I’m expecting, there’s a soft, berry-pink sweatshirt with a white-printed caption.
Christmas is too sparkly … said no one ever …
I’m laughing so hard I can hardly speak. ‘Thank you so much.’ Better still, when I bury my face in it, it smells faintly of Rory. I’m about to dive across for a thank-you hug. But it’s too late, he’s already closed the door.
Chapter 38
Monday 25th December
Christmas Day at Rose Hill Manor: No surprises
The snow-covered landscape looks magical as we sing along to Jingle Bell Rock and When Santa Got Stuck Up the Chimney on the road to Rose Hill village. But it’s nothing compared with how it looks when we turn down the lane to the Manor and see the gracious stone house with its chimneys and snowy roofs appearing beyond the black and white trees along the drive. The Christmas trees flanking the entrance are covered in snow too, and sparking with twinkling lights, and as we go through the wide front door the warmth hits us. Even though we saw the towering hallway tree reaching for the sky at Sophie and Saffy’s wedding, it makes us gasp all over again this time around. Jess and Bart have added several miles of tinsel and a celestial army of cherubs to make it even more Christmassy. Some artfully arranged Swiss sledges and ski boots underneath it add the perfect dollop of festive atmosphere. And from the chatter drifting out into the hall, it sounds as if they’ve added in extra guests for the pre-lunch drinks party.
As Rory swings in from the car with the first crate of beer, I seize the chance to whisper to him. ‘Where are all the pressies?’
He gives the laziest wink. ‘They’re on their way.’
There’s no time to ask more because Jess is welcoming us with air kisses, looking fab in her blue cashmere Klosters Snow Polo jumper and her ski pants and furry boots. She raises an eyebrow and fixes me with that stare of hers. ‘Keep your coats with you. I hope you’re ready for a day of fabulous surprises.’
‘Lovely.’ Hopefully there won’t be too many like last year’s.
Jess is laughing. ‘No need to look so scared, Holly. Come in, have some gluhwein and enjoy the ride.’
We move through to the lovely living area, with its comfy linen-covered sofas and wide polished boards. Across the room, Kip and Lily are talking to her mum and her new husband, who are both wearing zingy raspberry exercise wear that matches her lippy. As Bart throws logs onto a blazing fire, Jess ladles warm, spiced wine and hot, spiced apple juice into our glasses. Then we pick up some smoked salmon blinis and while I move on to do the rounds of ‘Happy Christmas’ hugs and air kisses, Rory goes out for the rest of the beer and fizz.
When I find Poppy over by the doors looking out to the lake, I settle Gracie down on a stool with Meerkat, Snowman and a tray of canapés. Then I give Poppy a special hug, grinning at the My Little Snowflake caption on her bump.
‘How’s that tiny person of yours doing?’ Even though we’ve chatted on the phone, I haven’t actually seen her since she got back from hospital yesterday.
She pulls a face. ‘I’ve pretty much got over having Christmas wrestled away from me. I know Rafe and Jess are only trying to protect us both.’ The bump she’s patting under the snowflake is actually huge. ‘Whatever it says on my top, there’s nothing little about this one. He’s run out of space to kick now. They’ve always been struggling with their dates, but the head’s engaged, so he might even be a January baby, not a February one.’
Immie adjusts Teddie on her hip and steps back to get a better view of Poppy’s middle. ‘Whatever the medics say, you look a lot like I did just before Morgan arrived.’ She rakes her fingers through her hair and grimaces in the direction of her chunky six-foot teenager playing on his phone.
I can’t help commenting, ‘That’s a lot less scientific than your usual pronouncements, Immie.’
Immie bl
ows out her cheeks. ‘Some things rely more on instinct than science. Birth is one of them.’
Poppy’s moving the conversation on with an eyebrow wiggle. ‘So, I hear Rory took you for a tour of the brewery, Hols? She flashes a knowing smile. ‘Not everyone gets one of those, you know.’
I’m keen not to overplay this. ‘We were literally in and out picking up drinks. I had no idea the Roaring Waves name was because it was right by the sea.’ The range of barns, clustered by the beach out along the coast road, were truly lovely, and a lot less derelict than Rory had implied.
Immie’s come in close. ‘It’s a great place. But more importantly, did you get a look at the bedroom?’
I’m going to have to fudge this. ‘I saw some big shiny tanks and a marketing suite. And a bit of the house that was way tidier than Home Brew Cottage.’ I know my cheeks are scarlet. When I accidentally caught a glimpse of a monumental wooden bed, I shot back out to the beer-mobile.
Immie’s lips are twitching. ‘Bound to be tidier without the gruesome twosome messing it up. Everyone in St Aidan knows about the bed. It’s the only furniture in the room, with a view straight out to sea. Most importantly, though, there’s no curtains.’
Even I can’t keep a straight face at that level of local knowledge. ‘Thanks for that. On a need- to-know basis, I don’t need to know any of that.’
Immie beckons us in closer. ‘On another subject entirely …’ She fishes in her pocket.
My sigh of relief for that lasts until I see what’s in her hand. ‘Immie, what the heck?’
Immie gives a chortle. ‘Keep your tinsel on. Haven’t you seen a urine sample before?’
Poppy sends me a long-suffering glance over the pot of wee in Immie’s hand. ‘And you’re waving it around because?’
Immie’s face crumples. ‘This is my fourteenth alcohol-free day. As far as the baby-making goes, I’ve been super-chilled and we’ve been bonking like rabbits.’ She breaks off to point to her red sweatshirt. ‘I keep calm, I’m in love with a firefighter. I’m totally what it says on the tin, thanks to my classes and my chillaxing apps.’