A Winter Flame

by Milly Johnson

  ‘I thought it was you who visited Aunt Evelyn in hospital,’ Eve blurted out, the rein on her emotions getting harder to hold. ‘Not the other way around.’

  ‘I was in a bad state when Evelyn came into my life. I didn’t care about any medal I’d won. I couldn’t see any future – disabled and out of the army, my head was a mess. Then this funny little old lady dragged me out of my own head kicking and screaming, gabbling on about how much she loved Christmas and asking me to help her design a theme park. I thought she was barking.’

  ‘She was,’ laughed Eve.

  ‘And she told me all about her niece who was as disabled as I was and as trapped inside herself. She wanted to help you much more than she did me, but she knew all the words had been said to you and none of them had worked.’

  Eve’s face fell into her hands and she sobbed. Then she felt warm strong arms close around her and her face being pushed into Jacques’ shoulder, and she smelt his foresty aftershave.

  ‘And she did it,’ he continued. ‘She helped me – and you’re nearly there.’

  ‘Don’t leave, Jacques. It won’t be the same. I was climbing the walls in the new office today after two hours. The new coffee machine is too swanky and perfect and there’s no noise.’

  ‘You’ll get used to those little changes,’ said Jacques. He raised her head with his finger and looked into her eyes.

  ‘The colour of Christmas trees,’ he said. ‘You’re going to be fine.’

  She felt his face near hers, she closed her eyes anticipating his lips falling onto hers, but they merely grazed against her cheek.

  ‘I’ll see you to your car,’ he said, his arms releasing her. ‘I think you’ll sleep well tonight.’

  Jacques waited until she had driven out of sight before returning to the cottage. He would miss her so much. He was only happy that he had done his duty by Evelyn and set her on the road to recovery with their spats and fights and one-upmanship. Jonathan would have been a lucky man had he lived, but he hadn’t. And life was for the living. No one who truly loved another would want them to waste their precious life grieving. They would want them to live and love for them both.

  He closed his eyes and saw the scene of him lying in his hospital bed, bitter and frustrated. He’d rather have died on duty than be a disabled man with no hope left in his life. The bomb had crippled his head more than his body.

  He remembered the first time he heard her voice.

  ‘Hello, I’m Evelyn Douglas. And you are Lieutenant Colonel Jean-Jacques Glace.’ She had pronounced it ‘Jeen’. ‘Is it all right to call you Jacques? My sister-in-law is called Jean and I could never stand the sight of her.’

  And despite himself he had laughed, and she had sat down on the chair at the side of the bed and talked until he listened.

  And weeks later Evelyn Douglas had placed her hand on his and said, ‘You’ll never know how much you’ve changed my life, Jacques. You make me think that anything is possible. When I first met you, you were such a grump. But you’ve come through so much. You make me feel ashamed that I had all that life and wasted it, when you have fought so hard to keep hold of yours. But no more. I’m going to try and make up for lost time. I won’t make up for all of it, but I can set some balls rolling downhill.’

  ‘Good for you, Evelyn,’ he said, thinking she was going to go off and book a cruise.

  ‘You’re right, Jacques. Life is for the living. I just wish I could make my niece believe that. I wish you’d fall in love with her,’ Evelyn had said with a heavy sigh. ‘Oh, she might play the big career woman, but I know that girl’s heart and it’s lonely and crying for someone to love it. Make her fall in love with you, Jacques.’

  ‘Life isn’t a romance book, Evelyn,’ Jacques had said kindly. ‘You can’t write your own happy ending. It’s in bigger hands than ours.’

  ‘You’d be good together,’ Evelyn had nodded, ignoring him. ‘She’s not an easy woman, but she’s worth the effort to get to know. I’m going to sort it that you spend some time together. I’m going to leave you both half of my Christmas theme park. You’ll have to work together.’

  ‘Yes, you do that,’ he had chuckled. If only he had known she wasn’t joking.

  Then he found himself joint owner of Winterworld.

  He had played the game for a while, in accordance with Evelyn’s wishes, because it was clear from the off that if he didn’t, Winterworld would have become a different place to the one Evelyn wanted. But he had always intended to sign his share back over, just as soon as things were on course. It wouldn’t have been right to accept that sort of inheritance from an old lady he had known for such a short time.

  He didn’t bargain on falling stupidly in love with the stubborn, snotty, über-confident, super-efficient, megalomaniac of a niece of hers though. And he couldn’t be around her because she needed time, lots of it, to recover. Because she was moving into the here and now, and that meant she would finally start to grieve for Jonathan – and be able to let him go.

  Chapter 53

  Eve tried to sleep but she couldn’t. Her head was a mess, a jumble of old prejudices and new enlightenments. Facts were easier to compartmentalize and deal with than the feelings bombarding her heart. Because those feelings were wrong, so wrong, disrespectful to Jonathan’s memory, but at the same time they were so strong, so undeniably and magically strong.

  Eve made herself a cup of instant chocolate and carried it into the chilly office where the cheerful candle burned brightly in the window. The sight of it churned her gut and she slumped in the chair at the desk and let the tears roll down her face.

  ‘Oh Jonathan,’ she said, her voice choked with emotion. ‘I don’t know what to do. I feel myself changing and I know if I do, that I’ll be moving away from you. And I can’t do that. Because we made a vow to each other and I know you’re with me and I couldn’t ever hurt you. I couldn’t let you go.’

  She pressed at her chest knowing that the big coat-wearing, daft-hat-and-gloves buffoon Jacques Glace had been denied access to the door there, so he had climbed in through the window.

  Then a rather extraordinary thing happened. The room suddenly grew warm, as if a giant fire had been turned on behind every wall, floor and ceiling. And through the haze of her tears, Eve saw the candle flame expand, grow brighter and higher than should have been possible. She wiped her eyes, just in time to see the flame disappear, as if someone had wet their fingers and extinguished it – just like that. The candle was smoking, the end of the tip a faint orange, which faded before her eyes to black. And the room grew as quickly chilly as it had become hot.

  Chapter 54

  Everyone agreed that Phoebe May Tinker’s childish squeals of delight summed up the noises they all wanted to make: from the elf-people to the caterers, Mr and Mrs Nowak and the Polish and Welsh workers, now out of their hard hats and work gear and in jeans, holding the hands of their babies who had come to see Santa along with everyone else who was queuing at the gates – and those queues went a long way back.

  It was funny to see Effin out of his fluorescent-yellow jacket. He had a shirt and tie on, and he was linking arms with one of the biggest, ugliest women Eve had ever seen. He was pointing things out to her and she was nodding and listening to him, and it was more than evident how proud he was of his contribution.

  ‘Well, I don’t know how you did it, but you did,’ said Violet, coming up behind Eve and putting a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘We did it,’ corrected Eve. ‘It was a joint effort. Everyone had a part to play.’

  ‘You look lovely,’ said Violet, lifting a shank of her cousin’s loose dark hair before letting it fall. ‘You shouldn’t ever tie it back again. It makes you look years younger like this.’

  But Violet knew it wasn’t just the hair that was doing that. Since the candle had gone out, she had felt Eve move back into the world with them again. She had watched her face soften over the days, seen a brightness return to her eyes.

  ‘Is that
invitation still on to spend Christmas with you lot?’ asked Eve on a whim.

  Violet smiled. ‘Eve, you would make us all very happy if you did. Mum’s freezer is bursting at the seams with food. Patrick has got her the world’s biggest turkey. It’s like an emu.’ She linked her arm through Eve’s and squeezed her. ‘That’s just the best news I’ve had in ages; Mum is going to be so made up. We’ll buy you a Fuzzy Felt. You can’t change your mind, you know. You’ve just entered a verbal contract.’

  ‘Good. Hold me to it,’ said Eve. She didn’t want to be alone this Christmas. She wanted to be with her family, eating around Auntie Susan’s big table, clinking glasses, laughing at corny Christmas cracker jokes. She wanted to make some fresh memories of lovely Christmases and stamp out all the unpleasant ones of years past. The decision to spend Christmas with her family might have been a hastily decided one but boy, it felt so right and brought a lovely thrill of anticipation with it. It was as if she had moved into that giant snow globe at last. She was no longer peering in from the outside. Christmas was all around her and she was part of it – and it was part of her.

  And in the first week of the new year, Darklands was going up for sale, she decided. It was too big a house for herself to rattle around in with old, cold memories. The house deserved to be full of life and light and children – it was the final act of letting go.

  ‘Have you heard from Jacques?’ Violet asked softly.

  ‘No,’ said Eve. Violet saw her gulp a ball of emotion down as she said it. ‘I’m not sure I’ll ever hear from him again.’

  ‘I thought he might have turned up. Hot-tailed it back from Australia. I know it was a mad thought, but it’s no madder than what else has happened in the past three months.’

  Eve didn’t say that she had hoped for the same. She so wanted him to be here and see his creation, because this Winterworld wasn’t the one she had envisaged. If shingles hadn’t driven her to bed, she would have ridden rough-shod over so many of Aunt Evelyn’s plans. Holly wouldn’t be here and consequently Noel and Blizzard, or the Schneekugelmuseum. There would be no people dressed as snowmen or as many elves, and she had recruited more in the past week – an elf brass band who were presently gearing up to play to the visitors. This Winterworld was the glittery, Christmassy nightmare she would have fought every step of the way to prevent happening – and what a mistake that would have been. Jacques Glace had been loyal to Aunt Evelyn in a way she wouldn’t have been. And because of him, she could feel her aunt’s approval floating down with every snowflake from those giant German snow machines. He, more than anyone, deserved to see the smiles of everyone who walked in through the gates.

  She wanted to email him, say ‘Come home, Jacques. Because this is your home and your Christmas family are missing you, dear Captain. I am missing you and your daft flirtations and your SpongeBob SquarePants phone sock on your desk.’ But he deserved better than her. She had never met – nor was she likely to meet again – anyone who was as brave and honourable. And she, as he once so delicately put it, was a mess.

  Eve hadn’t contacted any celebrities to open up the park – there was only one person who could cut the huge red and green ribbon and let the crowds in – Santa. He was in position on his motorized sleigh, ready to ride to the front gate. He looked amazing and even more real than usual. Next year they would have reindeer pulling that sleigh.

  ‘Are we all ready?’ said Eve. She raised the glass of mulled wine which she had in her hand. ‘A toast to the good ship Winterworld and all of us who sail in her. And to you, darling Aunt Evelyn. You’ve given so many of us so much, I only wish you were here to see your dream come true. And a toast to you, dear Captain Jacques – wherever you are.’ Come back to us. Please.

  Glasses were raised and touched together. The elf band leader counted in his musicians and they followed Santa’s sleigh to the gate playing ‘Winter Wonderland’. Fat flakes of snow drifted down on their heads from the machines and the atmosphere couldn’t have been more filled with Christmas if it had tried. Not the Christmases that Eve remembered, though, but Christmases she had read about, seen on films: mince-pie scented, cosy fireplace-warmed, snow-filled, happy, contented Christmas. The sort of Christmases she would have from now on.

  ‘Welcome,’ said Santa’s booming voice. ‘Welcome to Winterworld, my friends.’

  And the masses poured in, gasping at the snow, the lights, the elves, the snowmen, the cabins, the lovely enchanted forest, and the train waiting to shake their bones. The soldiers and their families were first in, the children running here and there, not knowing which direction to go in first.

  ‘I want to go to the ice-cream parlour.’

  ‘I want to go on the train.’

  ‘Santapark.’

  ‘Reindeer, before the crowds.’

  Eve felt a tug at her sleeve. Phoebe was pulling her down so she could whisper in her ear. ‘Oh Auntie Eve, it’s perfect.’

  And it so very nearly was. The only thing missing was Jacques, and if he had come through the gates, Eve thought her heart might leap out of her chest to greet him. But he didn’t.

  Chapter 55

  Six Months Later

  ‘Job a hanner bois. Dw i’n browd o chi gyd.’

  ‘Oh ’eck, Effin’s off on one again,’ Eve chuckled, hearing the little Welshman’s voice blasting at his workmen. The park hadn’t been the same since they had finished work in December. Thank goodness lots of new plans had been approved and Effin and his men were now back here working.

  ‘Actually he’s saying, “That’s a job well done, lads. I’m proud of you”,’ smiled the young pretty blonde who was walking at her side: Thomas the Tank’s step-daughter, Myfanwy. She had been Eve’s PA now for four months and was a total godsend. The log cabin office was a much jollier place with her in it – and Gabriel. The cat’s home hadn’t been able to sell him and so Eve bought him from them. He sat in the corner with the baubles on his antlers and for a reason that Eve could never fathom, he made her smile every time she saw him.

  ‘Get lost,’ grinned Eve. ‘You can’t talk Welsh. You lied to me.’

  ‘Honest,’ said Myfanwy. ‘I’d get him to the first-aid cabin if I were you. By the way, can I nip over and get an ice cream?’

  ‘There’s a shocker,’ said Eve. ‘Go on, I’ll wait.’

  Myfanwy crossed to the ice-cream parlour, now run by the new manager Janet, as Violet and Pav had returned to Carousel. Still, Eve saw a lot of Mr and Mrs Nowak and her Auntie Susan, who had married Patrick on Valentine’s Day. It was so nice to see those she loved happy and being looked after. Violet and Pav had decided to have a baby – they were just waiting for her to ‘catch on’.

  ‘It can’t be long,’ Violet confided. ‘We’re at it like rabbits,’ which made Eve crack up with laughter because Violet wasn’t one for crude talk. Still, her lavender eyes looked as if they had a 1000-watt light-bulb behind them these days.

  Eve watched Myfanwy studying the flavours in the cabinet. She always spent ages looking, only to pick the ‘Reindeer Nose’, which had big cherries in it. She took even more time to decide when Janet’s big handsome son Robbie was working there. He had a look of a young Jacques Glace about him – albeit one smaller and younger with brown eyes, instead of blue ones, full of mischief.

  Eve hadn’t heard from Jacques since the night when Jonathan’s flame died. He had gone off to Australia and she had ploughed all her energies into making the park as successful as could be. But six months down the line, as proud as she was of her achievements, it wasn’t enough. A part of Jonathan would be with her always, and with the passing of time, she had remembered how much he had loved life, that he would want her to live and laugh – and love. He had blossomed young, Evelyn had blossomed old. Neither of them would have wanted their Eve not to have her time to flower.

  There was a lot of shrieking going on at the other end of the park, which was closed for two months whilst the builders worked flat out. The train tracks were being extend
ed, the increasingly popular wedding chapel was being enlarged, and two more honeymoon log cabins were being built. A children’s roller coaster and the Snow Globe experience were being erected in Santapark, and a craft market and more toilets. Holly had a new companion – a young female reindeer called Ivy – and there was a small sanctuary for snowy owls who couldn’t, for one reason or another, be released back into the wild. One of them – Stephen – was a real character, very tame, and delighted crowds of children with the tricks he could do. He and his handler gave two shows a day and Stephen never tired of showing off. Jacques would have loved the owls, she thought. She could imagine him literally charming them out of the trees. Her thoughts often strayed to him. She hoped he was happy.

  ‘He’s gorge, isn’t he – Robbie?’ said Myfanwy, returning with her cherry-studded ice cream. ‘I reckon he’s on the verge of asking me out.’

  ‘Oh definitely,’ said Eve. ‘His pupils dilate to the size of dustbin lids when he sees you.’

  ‘I know,’ said Myfanwy with a confident casual sniff as she licked her ice cream.

  ‘Lot of shouting going on over there,’ said Eve, as another round of noise hit the air. ‘Shall we go and have a look what’s going before we head over to the gift shop?’

  They walked through the enchanted forest, something which Eve never tired of doing. She still got that magical prickle under her skin whenever she was in there.

  ‘Morning, missus,’ called an engineer who was servicing the snow machines from up a tree.

  ‘Morning,’ sighed Eve. She never did become ‘Captain’ in the end. She was stuck with ‘missus’ and probably always would be.

  ‘Who’s that?’ said Myfanwy, pointing in front of her.