by Erin Green
My stomach lurches. Is that hunger, my nerves or the alcohol?
‘Angie… talk to me, please.’
I turn to face him. He looks tired beneath the gentle moonlight. His sad gaze searches my face, as if our answers are written upon my skin.
‘Look, you chose to come back to me, Angie. You’ll never know how happy that made me but now, this… this isn’t what either of us want, is it?’
I shake my head.
My stomach lurches again.
That’s it. He needs to know what I tried to explain to Alfie.
‘Nick… do you remember the first time we met?’
He laughs.
‘Of course, you were sitting on the grass enjoying the sunshine and I spotted you settled a few feet away and—’
‘My stomach flipped,’ I say, interrupting his memory. ‘Not just a flutter or an excitement, but an almighty somersault reaction, which I’d never experienced before, and that moment, looking at you for the very first time, staring at me in the sunlight, I knew. I didn’t know your name, where you came from… nothing, and yet instinctively I knew everything I needed to know.’
Nick smiles.
‘It’s that moment that brought me back to you, Nick. Remembering that one moment and knowing that no other man has ever stirred such a reaction in me… that’s what brought me back to you.’
His hand reaches for my forearm and gently pulls me near.
‘I can’t pretend to have experienced that exact feeling, but I remember that moment as if it were yesterday.’
I need to be honest.
I lower my chin. I can’t look at him as I deliver my next line.
‘I lost track of that moment for many years, Nick. Somewhere between the school run and the grocery shops I forgot… until a few months ago when I realised I’d lost the love of the only man that made my stomach flip.’
Tears spill over my lashes; my mantra hasn’t worked.
‘Oh, Angie.’
‘I’m sorry… I took us for granted, and questioned what I was doing with my life and where I should be and what I was missing out on. When the reality was, I was always where I was meant to be, Nick, sharing my life with you.’
He pulls me close, so my forehead rests upon his chest; his arms wrap around my shoulders in a comforting hug as we stand in the moonlight.
As the tears flow I wonder if we look more like the couple in the distance.
*
Holly
‘Holly, come on,’ says Alfie, grabbing my hand and dragging me along as he runs ahead through the snow.
‘What about your dad’s drinks?’
‘Forget that. He’s been gone for thirty minutes – they are probably having a humdinger of a row somewhere in the car park. Now, hurry up.’
His fingers are tightly wrapped around mine. I can feel the urgency and excitement spilling from him into me like an electrical current.
‘Where are we going?’ I say, as he leads me away from the noisy marquee and its blaring DJ.
‘I’ve got a key.’
‘A key to what?’
‘A cabin.’
‘No!’ I draw to a sudden halt, pulling him backwards, shocked that Alfie would be in possession of a key, but also that he’d masterminded such a plan, today of all days.
‘How?’
Alfie taps the side of his nose.
‘Secret.’
‘Have you stolen it?’
He shakes his head.
‘Bram lent it to me.’
‘Bram?’
‘Honestly he did… I didn’t pinch it, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘No, I’m just a little shocked, that’s all.’
He pulls at my hand.
‘So, are we standing here all night or do you want some privacy?’
We continue along the lake pathway towards the six log cabins.
‘Be careful. I know Nina is staying in one of them. We’ll be in trouble if she spots us.’
‘I’ve got the key for number one. She’s in the smallest one. Quick now.’
It feels wrong. Deceitful. Almost offensive, as we should be throwing some shapes on the dance floor at Isabella’s wedding. But how fantastic to have a cabin to ourselves for a time. I haven’t seen Alfie all day, given my role as bridesmaid. I thought we’d have had the opportunity to talk and have a laugh, but now as the night grows late, this is the first chance we’ve had to be together.
‘This way.’ Alfie leads the way up the wooden steps, fumbles at the lock and quickly pulls me through the large doorway. We don’t wait to find the light switch; as soon as the door is closed we lean against it and make out. We can’t get enough of each other, kissing, holding, touching, feeling. Our hands roam wildly over each other in a frantic manner, which would look quite comical if we could see each other’s reaction.
‘Do you want to move to the bed?’ I ask, unsure if I should make the suggestion or not.
‘Do you?’ he replies. I can hear a quiver in his voice.
Yep, I really do.
‘Did you bring…?’ I whisper.
‘Yeah.’
‘Come on, then.’ I begin to move into the room.
‘Holly, are you sure…? You know you can say if—’
‘Alfie. I’m sure.’
Fumbling in the dark, for fear of being caught, we tumble onto the double bed. His hands reach for the zip of my bridesmaid’s dress as I tentatively loosen his belt buckle.
*
Nina
‘Nina?’
I turn about from the wood burner, having stoked and fed the flames. Bruno stands in the doorway of the log cabin clasping two champagne glasses and a bottle.
‘Hi.’ My voice sounds weak.
‘I found this going begging.’ He indicates the bottle. ‘I doubt anyone will miss it. Here.’ He shuts the door with his foot and offers me the two glasses, while he uncorks the bottle.
I know what’s happening. I can almost predict the conversation once we’ve drunk a glass or two.
‘To us…’ says Bruno, holding his glass aloft.
I repeat. I daren’t not in case this warm fuzzy feeling that is gambolling around my stomach disappears for good and I am forced to return to reality.
The gentle glow of the fire radiates to light the cabin. I’m conscious that the single sofa is tiny, the other seats are hard-backed and the double bed, some ten feet away, would be a heavenly slumber if we’d known each other longer.
Bruno removes his suit jacket and settles upon the sofa, his long limbs spilling over the seat cushion.
‘Come, sit,’ he says, patting the sofa cushion beside him. ‘I know it’s the world’s smallest sofa but there’s room for two.’
I want to hold back, be coy until we get to know each other a little better, but why when being in his presence feels like the most natural thing in the world? In fact, do I trust myself, let alone him?
I sit down; twist around to face him, my glass resting on the back of the upholstery.
‘How did you find me?’ I ask, sipping my drink.
‘I wondered where you’d escaped to… but a blonde waitress pointed me along the path towards the lake, when I asked after you.’
Good old Kitty, she was never far away from a good deed in helping others.
‘A close friend?’
‘Oh, yeah! She knows I go to the lake. It’s my place…’
‘To think?’
I nod, unsure how much I should say.
‘I get that you’re wary,’ he says, his head lolling back and turning to face me. ‘I don’t blame you, especially if you thought that I was Luca and the whole bridal procession thing spooked you.’
I inhale. I will probably regret this moment forever but here goes.
‘Have you ever met someone, a total stranger, and without them saying a word, you react as if by instinct…?’
‘Like a stomach flip?’ he asks.
‘Oh, for a moment there I thought you were going to s
ay something entirely different.’
His hand reaches to stroke my cheek.
‘Nina, if you’re feeling what I’m feeling, and I seriously hope you are… we’ve nothing to fear.’
I exhale. His words are like magic. Gone are the fears, the vulnerability, the scared child, the fearful woman. All that remains are two adults, with a mutual respect and, maybe, a future.
I stare up at him.
‘Seriously, I came back to the farm on numerous occasions, purely to see you. My innards were jumping through hoops.’
‘And my elf outfit… was it worth it?’
‘The outfit maybe not… but the red underwear, well.’
‘I had no choice. The boss sprang the job on me!’
‘And now, do I get to talk to you about other things rather than Christmas trees?’
‘Perhaps.’
I have nothing to be embarrassed about in admitting his effect upon me. I know he knows.
What if he rejects what I’m feeling? I don’t know what I will do with myself. I don’t know how to return to the woman of a few weeks ago, before I knew he existed in this world.
Bruno stares around the cabin; his eyes linger in the direction of the bed before his gaze returns to mine.
‘Why are you staying here?’
It feels as if I’ve known him for a lifetime, like the twins, so I’m honest.
It takes me the next twenty minutes, another glass of champagne and some tissues to explain the last year. Throughout my explanation he nods, his eyes not leaving my features.
‘And, the wooden box?’
‘My dad’s ashes.’
‘Wow, what a task to undertake alone.’
I shrug.
His hand rises to gently stroke my cheek, as an eruption of tears cascades.
‘I was mad at him for dying and leaving me on my own. I couldn’t bring myself to scatter his ashes… I’ve kept them hoping we could continue to live how we’d always lived but…’
‘Shhh now. Come here.’
His arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling me closer to his chest. Minutes pass as I listen to his heartbeat and wait for my tears to subside.
A lengthy silence follows.
‘Given that it’s Christmas, this cabin could do with some festive decoration,’ says Bruno, resting his chin on my temple. ‘Do you know anywhere near that we could buy a spruce from?’
With my head on his chest, I listen to his laugh from the inside – a deep rapturous sound full of life and vigour.
I jump up.
‘Come on,’ I say, pulling my coat back on. ‘I have a plan.’
‘Intriguing, but I forbid you to use a chainsaw having consumed two glasses of bubbly.’
*
Angie
‘Where have you two been?’ I ask angrily as the pair casually enter the marquee, holding hands. ‘We’ve been looking everywhere for you.’
Alfie and Holly smirk before he answers, ‘Walking by the lake, why?’
‘Holly, your parents are ready to leave, so you need to say goodnight,’ interrupts Nick, glancing from one to the other. All around us families are collecting their belongings and saying goodbyes to family and friends, promising to see them soon and to visit. The band are packing up and the DJ is dismantling his speaker set.
I watch as she quickly delivers Alfie a kiss, a hesitant glance occurs and she dashes off towards her family.
‘Alfie?’ I say as he tries to contain a smirk.
‘Angie, leave it,’ interrupts Nick, leading our son away from me.
‘See you, Mum,’ whispers Alfie, his smirk not masked.
‘Alfie, your mum’s coming home with us…’ Nick’s words linger as Alfie slowly turns to view my expression before turning away and sidestepping his father’s arm. I hastily catch them up and link arms with Nick. It might not be the perfect day of memories I’d been hoping for, but my honesty beside the lake has paid off. Nick wants what I want… so tonight, we’ll leave as a family and hope that with each new day, we’ll attempt to unravel from the mess I began last January.
*
Nina
‘Are you sure? It’s hardly the largest Christmas tree I’ve ever seen,’ says Bruno, standing back to inspect my choice.
‘Three foot is a perfect size for the cabin,’ I say. ‘A Norway spruce with a beautiful traditional smell. Yes, in my opinion… it’s perfect.’ Despite my previous protests, this is what I want.
‘Come on, then.’ Bruno picks up the tiny tree, digs a tenner from his pocket before handing me the cash. ‘As payment. I won’t be accused of stealing.’
‘We’re not stealing. My boss always gifts each staff member a tree on Christmas Eve – I just didn’t take him up on the offer earlier.’
‘Even so,’ says Bruno, marching from the sale yard back towards my cabin. ‘Come on, slowcoach, we’ve got champagne to drink, which I borrowed from my sister’s wedding.’
I trot after him, grabbing a bunch of mistletoe as I near the pallet.
*
‘She looks a bit bare,’ he says, viewing the tree positioned in the corner of the cabin as I pin mistletoe above the door.
‘You won’t find decorations at this time of night. The wreaths have sold out and…’
Bruno is up and out of the door, stomping down the wooden steps before I can finish my sentence.
He returns ten minutes later carrying his suit jacket in a bundle.
‘Look what I’ve found,’ he says, emptying his stash onto the floor before the wood burner.
I crouch down to watch him unbutton his jacket, revealing a pile of decorative robins.
‘I unhooked them from the wedding garlands,’ he explains, gently pinning the first fat robin onto a branch as I struggle to take in the effect his kindness has on me.
We pull the bedding from the mattress and make a comfortable nest upon the floor before the wood burner. From our position on the floor, a host of robins look down from their perches and offer comfort and calm. I wonder where my fat robin is, and hope he is settled in a warm nest amongst the Christmas trees.
‘Come closer,’ he whispers, raising his arm around my shoulder to draw me near. ‘I really can’t explain, but the minute I laid eyes on you I knew this was somewhere in our future.’
I don’t interrupt him. Despite my original misunderstanding, I hoped that such an opportunity could occur and signal our beginning. There is a heartbeat between his words being said and his lips lowering towards mine. I simply raise my face to his, wrapping my arms around his back, and return his kiss.
*
‘Nina.’
I jump as his voice awakens me. It takes just a second to recognise and remember where I am and in whose arms I’m lying. The wood burner has died, and our duvet nest upon the floor hasn’t softened the wooden boards beneath my back, but I don’t care because Bruno’s face is before me.
‘Hi,’ I whisper as my mind floods with the memories of yesterday. ‘Merry Christmas.’
His lips touch my forehead before he softly repeats the greeting.
‘It’s nearly morning… come on.’ He pulls back our covers, allowing me to sit up before he can rise to his feet, pulling me up from the floor. Our clothes are creased; we put on shoes and smile inanely at each other. ‘Quickly,’ he says, reaching for my hand. His free hand grabs a woollen blanket as we dash from the cabin.
The glistening snow shines all around us. My feet can hardly keep up as his outstretched hand pulls me along, between the snow-sprinkled spruce and towards the lake. The woollen blanket billows and flies from his free hand, snagging and catching on nearby branches.
We arrive at the lake, where the blackened water is still and silent, a gentle mist gathering above the surface.
Today I feel different; for the first time I experience a true sense of calm.
Life seems to mimic a Christmas tree. It is nurtured, loved as it steadily grows, to be cut down when it’s reached a most beautiful stage before it fades to bro
wn, to be discarded and forgotten.
Bruno scours the area and walks a short distance away from the water’s edge to the mature trees, beneath which sits little snow but a thick carpet of dried needles. He spreads the blanket upon the dry ground and settles his shoulders against the spruce’s mature trunk, his legs outstretched and wide.
‘Nina…’ His hand beckons me, to sit between his thighs, my back resting against his torso, my head against his chest. I can hear his heart rate, steady and strong.
‘What are we doing?’ I ask as he pulls the edges of the blanket over our frame to cover our clothed bodies.
‘Shhhhh, watch.’
I don’t say another word, I simply watch. Before me a low spruce branch hangs in my line of vision, behind which the lake stretches wide, and beyond the far embankment the horizon slowly changes. Bruno’s arms tighten about my body as a slither of light steadily grows with each minute. A gentle glow of orange colours the sunrise and a new day is born.
Epilogue
Nina
Saturday, 27th April 2019
Mr & Mrs M Pardoe
Request the pleasure of
Nina Salloway & Bruno Ferraro
at the marriage of their daughter
Kitty Louise
to
Mr Connor Austen
at Christmas Tree Farm, Baxterley village,
Warwickshire
on Saturday, 27th April 2019
at 2 p.m.
RSVP by 16 March 2019
The string quartet creates a beautiful ambience as Bach softly fills the air while the seated guests chatter.
‘Nina, shall we?’ Bruno gently takes my arm as we walk the length of the plush red carpet along the aisle towards our seats. I can’t believe how beautiful the pink blossom covering the pergola looks in the spring sunshine amongst the emerald-green backdrop of the Christmas trees. This is perfect, just as Kitty wants. I swallow a knot of emotion that snags in my throat, knowing how delighted my dear friend will be. Tears are not welcome before the wedding ceremony.
Bruno waits while I settle myself, before taking his seat. Despite only four short months together, I know he’s prepared for my happy wedding tears. He settles in his seat before taking my hand, and I watch as his long fingers interlock with mine. Much as our lives have interlocked over recent months. From Christmas Day, we’ve been inseparable.