A Way Back Home: Full of warmth, laughter, tears and a wedding! (The Willow Tree Hall Series)

by Alison Sherlock

  ‘No. Of course not,’ she replied, pulling out the other cabinet from under a whole load of boxes.

  ‘Look, I know you’re strong and capable,’ said Will, putting down one cabinet to help her with the other. ‘Who are you trying to prove this to?’

  Skye straightened up and frowned. ‘My mum perhaps.’

  ‘But she’s not here,’ said Will, gently.

  Skye shook her head in frustration. ‘I can’t be seen as weak,’ she said. ‘It’s a survival thing.’

  ‘Nobody can be completely independent,’ he told her. ‘At some point you have to let other people in.

  She broke into a smile. ‘Is that what you did then? By living out in the lodge instead of the main house?’

  ‘You live there too now, remember?’ he said, suddenly finding that he was unable to maintain eye contact. ‘Anyway, that’s different.’

  ‘Yeah. Right,’ she said, laughing. ‘Come on then. I’ll let you carry the heavier one back to the lodge.’

  In the evenings, after dinner, they would both head back to the lodge, where Skye would work on the furniture or some decorations for the lounge or kitchen.

  Her biggest job had been to sand down the huge dresser in the kitchen. Now that it was a blank canvas, Will could begin to see how attractive it might look once she had given it a coat of paint.

  In fact, little by little, the whole place was slowly coming together. The main bedroom had been plastered and painted. It was now awaiting a brand new double bed. But apart from that, the bedside tables, dressing table and wardrobes had all been upcycled from before. Skye was busy finishing the curtains with a matching cushion for the bed for when she could move in there.

  Will was looking forward to having a decent bed at last after a few weeks sleeping on the sofa, even though it would only be a single bed in the smaller bedroom. But even that was halfway finished now.

  The bathroom suite had been the biggest job upstairs, but Will had used some of his redundancy money to get a new one fitted. It just required tiling and a new blind, which Skye also had on her list of things to do.

  ‘I never knew I could be this tired,’ she said one evening, putting down the material she had been sewing with a yawn. It would be a pretty striped blind for the kitchen when finished.

  Will was impressed by her artistic skills, especially as he was so lacking in them himself. All the interior design for the ski lodges had been managed by somebody else. Now he could really appreciate what it took to think up design, especially on a budget.

  As he agreed with all of her ideas, they quickly pressed on and gradually the lodge began to come back to life, looking better and better with each passing day.

  ‘This looks great,’ Skye told him, looking around with weary eyes at the very pale pink that she had persuaded him to paint on the lounge walls.

  ‘I agree,’ said Will. He had thought that the pink would be a bit too girly for his taste, but it was merely a hint of colour. He had to admit that the contrast with the oak beams on the ceiling that had been sanded down looked pretty good.

  ‘You know what it needs now?’ said Skye, nodding her head thoughtfully as she turned slowly around the room.

  ‘Two large glasses of red wine?’ he said, pouring them out.

  ‘Well, yes,’ she said, smiling. ‘Thanks. But can you imagine how good a brown leather sofa would look in here? Or even two, facing each other?’

  ‘With a coffee table in the middle,’ said Will.

  ‘Sanded down to match the oak beams,’ she added. ‘And a rug on the floor. Cream and lovely and warm under your feet. With matching cushions on the sofas.’

  For a second he could follow Skye’s vision. Then he glanced down at the battered old sofa and grimaced. ‘Shame about that thing.’

  ‘I could try and cover it somehow,’ she told him. But then she smiled sadly. ‘I suppose it doesn’t matter when it will be rented out at some point.’

  Will tried not to blanch. He had to keep reminding himself that the lodge wasn’t a permanent fixture in his life any more. And that his love for the building wasn’t the most upsetting thing about this period of his life coming to a close.

  ‘I can’t believe it’s the start of advent tomorrow,’ Skye told him before taking a sip of her wine.

  ‘I don’t know where the time has gone these past weeks,’ said Will.

  It was strange to him that suddenly it was almost December and he hadn’t missed his party lifestyle in London at all. Everything that he had thought he would miss the most – the people, the parties, the interchangeable girlfriends – none of that mattered, it turned out.

  Was he getting old? Possibly. Or maybe he was just maturing. And about time too, he added with a wry smile to himself.

  ‘It’s the Christmas fair on Saturday,’ he said. ‘It’s come round so fast.’

  ‘Are you ready?’ she asked.

  ‘Ready as we’ll ever be,’ he told her. ‘Hopefully it won’t be a complete disaster and some people will show up.’

  ‘I’m sure it won’t be,’ said Skye, taking another sip of wine. ‘Then you can relax and enjoy the stag night.’

  ‘If I’m not asleep in the corner of the pub after the fair,’ said Will. ‘I heard something about pyjamas and cocktails for you girls.’

  Skye laughed. ‘Annie thought that a sleepover at home might be fun. And cheap, obviously. It was your aunt that added the cocktails.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Will.

  ‘I think Alex is invited,’ said Skye, smiling. ‘I don’t know how he’s going to attend both at the same time.’

  Will rolled his eyes. ‘He’s managed to invite himself to both the hen and stag nights? Why didn’t I think of that?’

  Skye giggled before it turned into another yawn.

  ‘You should go up to bed,’ he told her, taking the half-full glass of wine out of her hand

  ‘You’re very bossy,’ she replied, with another yawn.

  ‘My house, my rules.’ He softened his words with a small smile.

  ‘Our house,’ she murmured, before standing up.

  ‘Our house,’ he repeated, liking the sound of the words he thought he would never speak.

  He did wonder when things had begun to change between them.

  Yes, Skye was beautiful and intelligent. She seemed to be a good person with a kind heart. But it was best to keep things casual. To stay as friends. To get involved, to commit to anyone, was to welcome heartbreak and betrayal, just like his mother had done to his father all those years ago. Of course, he had daydreamed about having a family, but those fantasies were exactly that. Not real.

  But then he realised that, despite his best intentions, he was involved on some level with Skye Jackson.

  And the thought absolutely terrified him.

  38

  The morning of the Christmas fair dawned bright and cold. A hard frost covered the ground and made the roof of the stable block glisten and sparkle.

  In the low winter sun, the normally quiet courtyard was now bustling with people. Trestle tables were covered with piles of goodies to be bought.

  Skye wandered past one stall that was piled high with tins full of home-made mince pies. The next had beautiful wreaths made from holly and spruce, decorated with red bows and berries. Somebody had made large round candles that were decorated with silver glitter and she made a mental note to buy a couple for the wedding. The other stalls were selling everything from knitted tea cosies and wooden trinkets to hand decorated Christmas baubles and stockings.

  Everyone appeared to be wearing their Christmas jumpers, even Will, who was sporting a navy knitted sweater with Rudolph on the front. Skye watched as he went around the edge of the stables, making sure that each string of fairy lights was flashing in time.

  ‘Doesn’t it look great?’ said Annie, coming to stand next to Skye. She was wearing a Santa hat and matching bright red jumper.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ said Skye. ‘Really festive.’

  T
hey both jumped as a speaker nearby began to boom out Christmas music. Skye watched Will grimace and rush over to where the stereo had been set up to fiddle with the volume.

  ‘The local church choir are coming round later to sing carols,’ said Annie. ‘Now, are you sure you’ll be all right manning the front entrance?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Skye. ‘Sam’s going to usher them this way from the main house and then I’ll take their one pound entrance fee on their way in.’ She shook the bucket she was holding. ‘Hopefully this will have something in it by the end of the day.’

  ‘I hope so,’ said Annie. ‘All proceeds are going towards the village hall restoration.’

  ‘Right,’ said Skye, spotting a few people heading towards the entrance. ‘I’d better get going. See you later.’

  It was such a busy day that Skye had barely time to rest, such were the number of people streaming into the courtyard.

  ‘Here,’ said Megan, appearing at some point over lunchtime. ‘I thought you might be desperate for a mulled wine and a mince pie.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Skye, grateful for the hot drink. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Well, I think,’ said Megan. ‘I certainly don’t remember half this many people at the village hall last year. Looks like everyone’s doing a roaring trade.’

  ‘That’s great,’ said Skye, staring past her to where the stalls were surrounded by customers. ‘Eleanor’s certainly doing well.’

  They both looked over to where Eleanor and Tom were handing over bags full of pots and bottles of her handmade lotions and creams.

  ‘You don’t think that having a global superstar helping with the bag packing has anything to do with her popularity this year?’ said Megan, grinning.

  Skye laughed. ‘It can’t do any harm,’ she replied.

  ‘Why don’t you take a break and have a wander around whilst I man the fort here,’ said Megan. ‘Otherwise everything will be sold out.’

  ‘Are you sure? Thanks,’ said Skye. ‘I’ll only be ten minutes or so.’

  ‘Take your time,’ said Megan. ‘I’ve always enjoyed rattling a bucket at people.’

  Skye took a bite of her mince pie and began to weave her way through the hundreds of people packing out the courtyard. But she couldn’t even get near any of the stalls, such were the customers crowding around each one. So she was stuck in the busy central avenue and eventually found that she could barely move one way or the other.

  ‘Hi,’ said Will, appearing in front of her. ‘This is so busy, it’s mad.’

  ‘I know, but it’s great,’ Skye told him. ‘It’s such a success. Well done.’

  As usual, he shrugged off any praise. ‘I just made a few phone calls,’ he told her.

  ‘You did more than that,’ she replied. ‘Have you had a mince pie yet? They’re amazing.’

  ‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘You caught me on the way to organising the arrival of a very special guest.’

  ‘More special than Tommy King?’ she teased.

  Will grinned. ‘Only if you’re under the age of ten. See you later.’

  They carried on walking in opposite directions through the sea of people. Every stall holder had created their goods from scratch, it seemed. Anything handmade and locally sourced appeared to be very popular. She knew from personal experience how much pleasure it was to create something. Not necessarily perfect but certainly made with heart and soul.

  At that moment, Skye wondered whether she really wanted to go back to being a waitress or some other job that didn’t use her skills. All the other jobs she had done had paid the rent but not exactly kept her artistic spirit alive.

  Perhaps she would think about branching out in a new direction, when she left in the new year.

  With that thought saddening her mood slightly, she went to move on and found Jamie in front of her.

  ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Long time no see!’

  ‘Hi,’ she said.

  ‘I keep missing you every time I visit Arthur,’ he said, pretending to sound cross with her.

  She groaned. ‘I know. It’s been so manic since the storm. I haven’t been ignoring you, I promise.’

  ‘Thank goodness,’ he said, the corners around his green eyes crinkling as he smiled warmly at her. ‘I was beginning to take it personally.’

  She laughed softly.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he added. ‘Arthur told me all about the wedding and how much you’re helping out. That’s great of you to muck in like that.’

  Skye blushed. ‘It’s nothing.’

  ‘I disagree,’ he said. ‘So do you think you’ll ever have a night off to have that drink with me?’

  ‘I’m sure I will,’ she replied.

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Otherwise I was going to have to ask the big fella over there to make my dreams come true this Christmas.’

  Skye followed his gaze and realised that Father Christmas had arrived. That must have been what Will had been talking about, she thought.

  ‘What a great idea,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know Will had organised that.’

  ‘Well, you know Will and that silver tongue of his,’ said Jamie, his smile becoming harder.

  Skye was a little surprised at his tone of voice but didn’t say anything.

  ‘So shall we arrange that drink for this week? I think I’m free on Thursday,’ said Jamie.

  ‘Sounds good,’ she told him.

  A date near Christmas time. Wonders would never cease, she thought.

  Skye wandered back towards the front entrance where Megan stood, smiling at the thought that perhaps there would be someone underneath the mistletoe for her this Christmas.

  *

  Will was just organising the queue of young children lining up to meet Father Christmas when he spotted Skye talking to Jamie in the middle of the crowd. He hadn’t realised that they were still that friendly. They certainly seemed to getting along very well.

  ‘Hello, my boy,’ said Arthur, wrapped up against the cold weather in his hat and heavy coat. ‘Beautiful day for it.’

  ‘Hi, Grandad,’ said Will, fixing on a smile. ‘What do you think? Has Christmas arrived early?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Arthur, smiling at his grandson. ‘I had no idea it would be so popular.’

  ‘Me neither,’ said Will, truthfully.

  ‘One of the stallholders has just suggested that we hold the spring fair here as well,’ said Arthur. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘That’s great,’ Will told him. ‘We could make it an Easter themed one. Oh, and the lady who makes the wreaths would like to rent one of the stables.’

  Arthur nodded. ‘So your idea worked.’ He hesitated before going on. ‘Anybody who’s been here a long time and has watched you grow up as I have done would see how proud I am of you today.’

  Will brushed off the compliment. ‘About time, eh?’ Brittle humour was always his defence.

  Arthur shook his head. ‘I disagree. I’ve always been proud of you,’ he told him.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Will finally. ‘That means a lot to me.’

  ‘William!’ said Rose, materialising from the nearby crowd in her pillar box red winter coat and fluffy black hat. ‘Darling! What a success! Everyone’s so pleased. Now, I’m pretty certain I’ve been more naughty than nice this year, but I still deserve to sit on Santa’s knee, don’t you think?’

  As his aunt carried on, Will glanced over to where Skye had been chatting with the doctor, but they had both disappeared from view.

  39

  Skye rushed through the woods, carrying a small overnight bag with her. It had been such a busy day at the Christmas fair that the last visitors hadn’t left until well after dark. She had had barely any time to pack her bag and grab a quick shower in the, thankfully, new bathroom suite, before heading back out once more.

  As she went through the woods, her new purple wellies more than capable of protecting her from the hard, cold ground, she realised how quickly she had become used to walking out here. Th
e hoot of a nearby owl didn’t hold any fear for her. Nor did the bats that were now beginning to fly around the tops of the trees.

  Reaching the stable block, she found a few of the stallholders were still packing up. She smiled at them but carried on, aware that she would be late if she stopped.

  She arrived breathless in the kitchen, not surprised to find anyone in there for once. The whole family had been at the fair all day and everybody was presumably running late, getting ready for the hen and stag nights that evening.

  Going up through the east wing, she found Will and Sam in the entrance hall.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, finally stopping. ‘I made it at last.’

  ‘Actually, you’re the first apart from us,’ said Sam. ‘All set for your pyjama party?’

  She nodded. ‘Absolutely. Or, at least, a big cocktail after today. And you’re all off to the Rose and Crown in a while?’

  ‘We’ll be out of your hair, don’t worry,’ said Will, glancing at his watch. ‘Where the hell is everyone?’

  Rose and Arthur emerged out of the west wing then to join them.

  ‘Good evening, darlings,’ said Rose. ‘Are we all set for naughtiness tonight?’

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ said Arthur. ‘I’m looking forward to a pint of beer and beating my grandsons at a game of darts.’

  ‘Fighting talk,’ said Sam, grinning. ‘You’re on, Grandad.’

  ‘The champagne is chilling upstairs ready for us,’ said Rose, giving Skye a wink. ‘I’ve got some marvellous recipes for cocktails on my phone, so I’ve also got brandy, vodka, gin and rum.’

  ‘Thank goodness Annie has ordered pizza for you all,’ said Sam, with a frown. ‘You can’t drink that lot on an empty stomach.’

  ‘Do you know what I read in the newspaper the other day?’ said Arthur. ‘At the average hen night, one in five women will need medical attention after a drunken accident. And one in twenty is likely to be arrested.’

  They all turned to look at Rose who broke into a winning smile. ‘And it wouldn’t be my first time either,’ she said, with a wicked laugh.

  ‘You just behave yourself,’ Sam told her. ‘And there’ll be no medical attention required either. It’s just a small celebration for both the bride and groom. Quiet and understated.’