by Karen King
The timer alerted her that the pies were cooked, so she took them out, and covered them up while they cooled, then went back to her laptop to see if she could find anything about Lloyd’s son. Lloyd’s surname was Winston, her granny had said. Rocco, his son, was a painter and decorator and had married and moved to Somerset years ago. So, the first thing she did was a Facebook search on Rocco Winston, Somerset. There was no one with that name. Then she did an Internet search on ‘painters and decorators in Somerset’. There were no Rocco Winstons but there was a Winston and Drake. That could be him; he could be in partnership with someone else. She clicked on the company’s webpage and read the information. Richard Winston and Terry Drake. She clicked on the photos, Richard Winston had blond hair, very pale skin and looked about forty. Definitely not Lloyd’s son, then.
She sighed. This was going to be more difficult than she thought. She wondered whether to pop in on Lloyd and ask him a few more questions about his son, but then that would seem as if she was being nosy. She would like to see him, though, and persuade him to change his mind about coming for Christmas dinner.
Her thoughts went back to Joel, he’d be working on the tree now. Impulsively, she did a Facebook search on Joel Dexter, arborist. There wasn’t much personal stuff on his page but there were a lot of photos and videos of him working. She selected a video and watched – fascinated – as Joel, togged up in protective gear - felled a huge tree. Then there was another video of him, harnessed up, cutting branches off the top of a very tall spruce. He’d obviously climbed all the way to the top! Heck, this looked dangerous! She watched another video, her heart in her mouth at Joel on a hoist, hanging high up on a sky-scraping pine. He said he’d worked for the Scottish Forestry, so these videos must be from then, she thought.
She closed the laptop down, and decided to go and check on how Joel and Andy were getting on before she started work at the bakery.
A text pinged in and she reached for her phone and looked at the screen. It was from Ben. Her hand shook as she read the words on the preview: Please don’t delete this.
Well she was going to delete it. She didn’t want to think about Ben, never mind read his message. He had no right to contact her, he’d made his choice.
Why would he even want to message her? Because he was feeling guilty and wanted to apologise and explain that he hadn’t meant it to happen? Well, she didn’t want to hear it. She pressed lightly on the unread message and went to select ‘delete’ when another thought occurred to her: maybe Ben had left something behind at the flat? He had packed in a rush. Or maybe he’d taken something of hers by mistake. She read the preview text again. Please don’t delete this. Then she took a deep breath and opened the message.
I love you, Lexi. I’m sorry for treating you like this. Please give me another chance. What we had was too good to throw away over a stupid mistake. Can we please meet up and talk about this? Love you forever, Ben. Xxx There were a couple of heart emojis too.
That stunned her. He must be really missing her to be so persistent. For a moment, she imagined Ben holding her in his arms, kissing her, telling her how much he loved her and regretted cheating on her, vowing that he would never hurt her again. And yes, part of her, a really big part of her, wanted to take him back, for life to go back how it was. She had felt so comfortable with Ben, they had got along well, rarely argued. But they hadn’t spent much time together over the last few months to have chance to row, had they? she reminded herself. Ben always seemed to be out working. Or rather, seeing Rosa.
And if she did take him back, would she ever be able to trust him again? Whenever he said he was working late, she would be wondering if he was seeing someone else. She couldn’t live like that. She’d seen what a partner having an affair did to people. She didn’t want to turn into a suspicious, jealous person, checking Ben’s texts, going through his pockets. She shook her head. No, there was no going back. The perfect relationship she’d thought they had had never existed. Ben had stayed with her because it was easy, but as soon as someone more exciting had come along, he had been off.
Yet he wanted to come back.
And she wanted him back. But was that because she loved him, or because she wanted the familiarity of their life together?
She closed the message and put her phone back in her bag. She wasn’t going to answer yet.
She walked into the kitchen and poured herself some orange juice. She’d just taken a sip, when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, wondering if it was Ben – or Joel – and panicked when she saw it was from her friend, Fern. Oh no! She’d forgotten that she’d arranged to meet Fern for a coffee and catch up this week, back in Gloucester. She checked her watch. Today, actually, and in half an hour’s time.
‘Hi, Fern . . .’
‘So sorry, Lex, but I’m running a bit late. Can we make it one instead of twelve?’ Fern said in a rush. ‘You wouldn’t believe the morning I’m having. Polly got hold of the flour and threw it everywhere. It’s taken me ages to clean up and now she’s fallen asleep and if I wake her, she’ll just be grouchy all day.’ Polly was Fern’s toddler.
‘Oh, Fern, I’m so sorry. I forgot we were meeting . . .’ Lexi felt terrible. She knew that sometimes Fern found it a struggle to get out of the house with Polly, and she would have felt really bad if her friend had turned up at the café they were supposed to be meeting at only to find no sign of Lexi.
‘That’s okay. Look, why don’t you pop around instead? We can have a chat while Polly sleeps.’
‘I can’t. I’m in Devon.’
‘Devon?’ She could hear the astonishment in Fern’s voice. ‘But I thought you and Ben were going down on Christmas Eve?’
‘There is no me and Ben. We’re finished.’
‘What?’ Fern squealed. ‘It’s only been a few days since I spoke to you. What the hell has happened in that time?’
‘It’s a long story . . .’
‘I’ve got time. If you have.’
Lexi took her orange juice into the lounge and settled down on the sofa for a long chat.
‘The rat!’ Fern exclaimed when Lexi told her about Ben cheating on her and how she’d decided to come down to Devon early rather than stop in the flat moping by herself. Lexi then filled her in about the Christmas tree and Granny Mabe’s yarn-bombing.
Fern giggled. ‘Your gran sounds a real character. And this Joel sounds a hunk. I could fancy a tree surgeon myself – don’t tell Tim that – I bet he’s dead sexy!’
An image of Joel the previous night, shirtless and barefooted, flitted across her mind. ‘He is,’ she admitted. ‘And kind, too. Although, we did get off to a bit of a bad start.’ She told Fern about their first meeting when Sweetie had escaped, and how Joel had said Christmas was overrated.
Fern laughed. ‘I can imagine your reply to that!’
‘I did kick off a bit. I wanted us all to have a real family Christmas, just like we used to have, and the carol service around the fir tree is a big part of it.’ She could feel her voice break. Why was she getting so upset?
Because last Christmas had been so difficult with the Covid restrictions and then Ben had destroyed her dream of their perfect first Christmas so she desperately wanted a nostalgic family Christmas to replace that.
‘It’s not just the tree making you sad, it’s Ben too, isn’t it?’ Fern asked softly.
‘Yes. I miss him so much.’
‘He’s a scumbag and he didn’t deserve you.’
‘He said he’s sorry and he wants me back,’ Lexi confessed tearfully. ‘I had a message from him this morning.’
‘Please tell me that you’re not going to take him back.’
‘No. I don’t think so. I don’t know.’ On Friday evening, after she’d just found out about Ben and Rosa, she’d been adamant that she wanted nothing to do with Ben, but now she was wondering if she was being hasty.
‘Don’t go all soft just because it’s Christmas, Lexi. If you give Ben another chance, you’ll never be
able to trust him again.’
‘I know.’
‘Honestly, hunny, you deserve better . . . Oh, Polly’s up! I’ve got to go, but let’s have another catch up soon. After Christmas. And please don’t take Ben back. Bye.’ Then she was gone.
Lexi sat on the sofa thinking about Fern’s words. Was she just being sentimental because it was Christmas? Because this was the season that made you want to be happily coupled-up? Fern was right, though, how could she trust Ben again? As Granny Mabe would say, you can’t turn back the clock. What’s done is done, and you have to deal with it and move on.
Her thoughts went to Joel and the ‘single’s best’ toast they had made. It had only been a light-hearted toast, showing solidarity for each other’s pain, but it made her stop and think. She might still love Ben, but that didn’t mean she should give him chance to hurt her again. She was getting over him. She’d lived without Ben before, and could do it again.
She typed a reply back to him.
It’s over, Ben. I don’t want you back. Rosa is welcome to you.
Then she pressed ‘send’ before she could talk herself out of it.
She put the now-cooled-down cottage pies into the fridge, then pulled on her coat and boots. She decided to take her car today, then she could nip home and get the cottage pie for Joel when she’d finished at the bakery.
She pulled up on the other side of the green and got out of the car. The noise of the chainsaw was deafening. A man in protective gear was standing on a platform as he sawed off a branch. Was that Joel? She hurried over for a closer look. Another man – who was definitely not tall enough to be Joel – was putting the branches into a machine that was making loads of noise. That must be Andy, his partner.
Lexi walked over and stood outside the barrier of tape and cones, anxiously watching Joel in action. Until she’d checked out his Facebook page that morning, she hadn’t realised just how dangerous his work was. Thankfully, this tree wasn’t as tall as the ones she’d seen him climbing up in the videos online, but even so he was pretty high in the air, and that chainsaw looked hazardous. If he slipped – or if one of those branches hit him – he could be killed.
He’s harnessed to that platform. He does this all the time.
Her heart raced as she saw his hand go to his face. Was he hurt?
Chapter Eighteen
Lexi strained her eyes, trying to see what had happened. The platform was descending now. Joel was coming down! Why? Was he injured?
She bit her lip as, gradually, the platform lowered. Joel stepped off, then took off his helmet and gloves before walking over to a box on the floor. He took something out of the box and dabbed his eye. Andy saw him, switched off the machine and walked over to him.
She waited anxiously; both men were turned away from her, but Andy seemed to be dabbing something on Joel’s face. Had he cut himself? Then Joel turned around, noticed Lexi watching and walked over to her. ‘Is anything wrong?’
Relief flooded through her as she saw he was okay, apart from his eyes looked a bit sore. ‘I saw you put your hands to your face. I thought you were injured.’
‘I got some sawdust in my eye. I came down to get it out. It’ll be fine in a minute.’
‘It looks dangerous up there.’
‘Not if you follow the safety procedures, which I do.’
Of course he does. Even so. She swallowed. ‘Have you got to go much higher than that?’
‘No, that’s the highest bit. Luckily, the ivy that’s causing the damage hasn’t reached the top branches yet. It’s a pig to saw off, though.’
‘Please be careful.’ The words were out before she could stop them.
His eyes met hers. ‘I will.’
Feeling a bit embarrassed, she shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. ‘Will you be able to do it in time?’
He pushed his helmet back and some of his thick red-brown hair flopped over his forehead. ‘I promise that it’ll be done by tomorrow afternoon.’
‘That’s great.’ She hopped up and down with the cold. ‘It’s freezing out here. Would you both like a coffee? I can fetch one from the bakery. I’m doing a shift there later.’ She glanced over at Andy who was still feeding branches into the noisy machine.
‘I’d love one, thanks, we’re about to take a break. Black, one sugar, for Andy . . .’
‘Black, no sugar for you,’ she finished.
Joel grinned. ‘You remembered.’
‘Any cakes? We do a big variety.’
‘Do you have bread pudding?’
‘We do.’
Joel’s eyes lit up. ‘Bread pudding for me, then. Andy likes Danish pastries.’ He looked a bit awkward. ‘Can I pay you later, though? I can’t get to my money with this gear on.’
‘My treat, for saving the Christmas tree,’ Lexi told him. ‘I’ll be back shortly.’
‘Thanks, Lexi.’
Her parents both looked surprised when Lexi walked in. ‘Hello, love, we weren’t expecting you for another couple of hours. Is anything wrong?’ her mother asked, glancing up from the table she was wiping down.
‘No, I came out early to check how Joel and Andy were getting on with the tree. I’m taking some refreshments for them,’ she said. ‘Shall I serve myself? I’ll pop the money in the till. I told them it was my treat.’
‘No it’s okay, and no need for money. Your gran is so happy that the carol service can go ahead, and I know that Jay and Ryan will be pleased, too. It’s a shame there isn’t time to decorate the tree and have it all lit up, but the lanterns will make it look festive.’
Her dad looked up from the baguette he was buttering. ‘They will. I’ve got a couple of other ideas too. I’ll tell you all about it later;’
Knowing her dad, he’d find a way to string some lights up somewhere, Lexi thought. It was the kind of thing he would do. What with Granny Mabe and her Yarn Warriors, and her parents, she reckoned the green would look pretty festive even without the usual decorations and lights. Although her parents had no idea about her gran’s involvement with the yarn-bombers yet, or their plans for the tree.
‘Do you want coffee and a cake, too?’ her mother asked.
Lexi looked at the tempting array of freshly made cakes and pastries. ‘Yes, please, a bread pudding.’
‘You know, love, we’ve got Claire and Brad coming in this afternoon, so we’re covered if you want to do a bit of Christmas shopping instead of helping out,’ her mum said.
‘Are you sure?’ She could do with a trip to the shops. ‘Is there anything you need?’
‘Now you mention it, there are a couple of things.’ Her mum took a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to Lexi. ‘Only if you have time. I’m off work tomorrow, so can do it then.’
‘It’s no problem, the supermarket’s open until late.’ Lexi slipped the cakes in her bag, put the coffees into a cardboard-cup holder and took them out to her car, then put them securely in the box she kept in the boot to place shopping in.
When she got back to the green with the coffee and cakes, Joel and Andy had taken their helmets off and were both leaning against the van, well away from the tree.
‘Come and join us,’ Joel called. He opened the van door. ‘Take a pew inside.’
‘Thanks.’ She walked over and placed the coffee-holder on the top of the van, then handed the two men their cakes before sitting down in the passenger seat.
‘I’d better introduce you two properly. Lexi, this is Andy, my business partner. Andy, this is Lexi, the Christmas fanatic who’s been nagging me to save the tree.’
Is that how he sees me, as a Christmas fanatic?
‘So, you’re the one who persuaded Mr What’s-all-the-fuss-about-Christmas to not only save the village Christmas tree, but practically do it for free?’ Andy unwrapped his Danish pastry. ‘Good to meet you, Lexi.’
Lexi looked worriedly at Joel. ‘I didn’t realise you’d reduced your fee. That was very kind of you.’
‘He’s suddenly found his
Christmas spirit. You’ll be getting him wearing a Christmas jumper next,’ Andy quipped.
Joel gave him a look of mock-horror. ‘Absolutely no way!’
As they drank their coffee and ate their cakes, Joel talked Lexi through what they were doing. ‘Some of the branches are choked and have to come off, but most are okay and the tree itself hasn’t been damaged. We caught the ivy just in time.’ He popped the last bit of bread pudding into his mouth and munched it before saying, ‘That was delicious. Do your folks make the cakes themselves?’
‘Not entirely. They’re all homemade but there are a couple of people who live in the village who bake some of them. And my gran makes the bread pudding. It’s a secret recipe, which she won’t divulge. We have persuaded her to write it down, though, and she’s sealed it – and a few other recipes – in an envelope, which we’re forbidden to open until she dies.’ She took the last sip of her coffee.
‘Hopefully that’s a long way off. Does she live with your parents?’
‘Yes. Granny Mabe’s eighty-four, but my mum says it’s like having a teenager in the house,’ she told him.
‘She sounds a character,’ Andy said. ‘My gran’s in her seventies and she acts like she’s in her forties. They don’t make grandparents like they used to, do they? None of them want to sit by the fire and knit anymore.’
‘Well, my gran knits, but it’s not your traditional stuff,’ Lexi told him.
‘She’s a yarn-bomber.’ Joel’s eyes twinkled.
Andy nearly choked on his last piece of cake. ‘Blimey,’ he spluttered.
Lexi grinned. She’d really enjoyed this chat. It had been good to see Joel relax.
‘Well, I’d better go. My brother and his family are arriving from Canada this evening, and I’m going to do some last-minute shopping.’ She stood up and dusted a few crumbs from her coat. ‘I’ll see you later.’ She went to walk off, when she remembered Sweetie. ‘Ah, I almost forgot. Where is Sweetie today? Do you want me to go and check on her?’