‘I think he may be ‘doing a Nigel on me’,’ Juniper said.
Evie dropped onto the chair beside her. ‘You’re joking? You think he’s cheating on you? That he’s seeing someone else? Why? He only asked you to move in with him a few months ago. Why would he do that if he wasn’t madly in love with you?’
Juniper fiddled with her wine glass. ‘Why do men do anything? Why did Nigel take you all the way to Morocco and then a few weeks later, take someone else to the exact same place?’
‘Oh come on. You can’t compare Nigel with Darren. Nigel was a dick. Darren’s … the complete opposite. I was only with Nigel for a year. You and Darren have been together forever.’
‘Perhaps that’s the problem. Perhaps he’s tired of me. Perhaps he regrets asking me to come and live with him in his cottage here. Perhaps he preferred it when I lived at home in Michaelmas Bay.’
‘Perhaps you’re imagining things.’ Evie pulled a face. ‘What makes you think there’s a problem?’
Juniper sighed dramatically. ‘He’s … different lately. I can’t explain it. Every so often I catch him looking at me and it’s as if he’s wondering who I am. I know that sounds weird but a couple of times I’ve caught him really staring at me. You know. Really intently. Like your dad stares at something when he’s trying to figure out how it works or how to get it to do what he wants it to.’
‘Does Darren want you to do something? Have you had any rows or disagreements since you moved in?’
Juniper’s curls swung to and fro. ‘Nah-uh. That’s the weird thing. I thought things were going really well. I thought … I thought this was it. That Darren was the one.’
‘Darren is “the one”. You’re seeing problems where none exist. I’m sure of it. Maybe he was looking at you and thinking how happy he is and how much he loves you.’
‘He didn’t look happy. Every time I caught him, he looked downright scared. I asked him what was wrong a couple of times and each time he immediately said that nothing was wrong. Everything was perfect.’
Evie flicked the back of her hand against the sleeve of Juniper’s red Christmas jumper which was sprinkled with little snowmen. Evie wore the same, except in green. They’d bought them for each other last Christmas and laughed that it was a good thing they hadn’t bought the same colour as that would be too spooky. Evie often wondered how it was that Juniper felt more like Evie’s sister than Severine ever had.
‘Well, there you are then. You’re imagining things.’
‘Am I? Didn’t Nigel tell you “everything was perfect” when you spent that weekend in Marrakesh? We both thought he was getting serious about you. Look how that turned out.’
Evie took a deep breath followed by three gulps of wine. ‘That’s true. That’s exactly what he said. But I still don’t think you can compare Nigel with Darren. That’s like comparing a mince pie with a shortbread biscuit. They’re both delicious in their own way but one is filled with lots of delightful things and oozes warmth and pleasure. The other is very tasty but in the end, it’s just a biscuit. Darren is the mince pie, in case you’re in any doubt and Nigel is shallow and … it doesn’t matter. It was a crappy analogy. A shortbread doesn’t cheat. A shortbread is just a shortbread.’
That made Juniper smile, but not for long. ‘I can’t put my finger on it, Evie. I just get the feeling he’s hiding something and that worries me. I didn’t think Darren and I had any secrets. Now I’m not so sure.’
Raven came charging into the bar like a black rhino. A thin black rhino.
‘Well, thank you very much!’ she hissed. ‘You could’ve told me I had flour all over my face. And not just a raisin but also a cherry in my hair. Now he thinks I’m a complete halfwit. And who the hell is Carmen Miranda? Grandpa said that’s what you’ll all call me from now on. I don’t care if I’m only fifteen. I want a beer and don’t you dare tell me I can’t have one.’
Evie held up her hands. ‘Hey! … Carmen.’ She couldn’t help herself. It was quite funny, after all. Even Juniper was fighting a grin. ‘Firstly, you didn’t have anything in your hair or on your face when I left the kitchen, so don’t shout at me. You must have done that afterwards. Carmen Miranda is – or was – a singer, I think. Or a dancer. Or both. Anyway, she was famous for wearing fruit on her head. Or hats covered in fruit, or something. And if you want a beer, have a beer. But only a half. Not a pint. What did Roland say then?’
Raven glowered at her. ‘Nothing. He just looked at me like he wasn’t sure what the hell I was. Then Grandpa took the cherry out of my hair and ate it. Actually ate it! He’s disgusting. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.’
‘But instead you came charging in here. Don’t you think you could have … oh I don’t know ... laughed it off or something?’
Raven’s eyes were like pools of burning tar. ‘Laugh it off? Are you mad? There is nothing funny about having fruit in your hair, flour on your face and being part of a family of lunatics. Believe me. Nothing funny at all. I’m calling mum and insisting she lets me go home. I’ve had about as much of this place as I can stand.’ She grabbed a bottle of lager and ran along the hall to the flight of stairs leading to her room.
‘Oh dear,’ Juniper said. ‘And I think I’ve got problems.’
‘I think we need more wine.’
Evie refilled their glasses and had just returned to her seat when her dad came into the bar, rubbing his hands together. Juniper’s brother Roland followed behind, carrying two empty mugs.
‘Goodness it’s cold out there sweetheart, but with Roland’s help I’ve fixed the doorknob and hopefully the hinges too. I think I’ve upset Raven again though. I saw her dart in this direction.’
‘Raven’s gone to her room,’ Evie said. ‘She wasn’t feeling well.’
‘Oh? It wasn’t because I called her Carmen Miranda, was it?’
‘I don’t think that helped, Dad.’
‘That child is so sensitive. She’s just like her mother was at her age. Do you remember, Evie? Severine was always stamping her foot and running to her room. Even in her twenties.’ He grinned and shook his head as if they were fond memories.
‘How can I forget?’ Evie didn’t recall them quite so fondly. Severine’s little tantrums had usually been Evie’s ‘fault’, although Evie rarely knew what it was she was supposed to have done to cause them. For the most part, Evie and the rest of the family just put up with them but when Severine discovered she was pregnant at twenty-one, Evie said, ‘That’s definitely not my fault. You’ve only got yourself to blame for this one.’ Severine didn’t speak to her for weeks. That was a time Evie did remember fondly. Evie did love her sister, and Severine loved her, Evie knew that. They simply didn’t like each other very much. The only thing they had in common was their family and although Severine was two years older than Evie, she didn’t act like it.
‘Beer, Roland?’ John walked to the bar and poured himself a pint, holding up an empty glass and waving it at Roland.
Roland’s head was bent, his jacket collar up, and he was looking directly at Evie beneath his dark lashes. His cheeks flushed and his eyes sparkled as he edged closer. ‘Er. Yes please.’ His gaze didn’t deviate from Evie’s face.
Evie shifted in her chair. She’d known Roland since the moment he was born. They got on well whenever she saw him, but he could be so intense at times. More than once it crossed her mind that, given the right circumstances, Roland could turn into a serial killer.
Juniper was auburn and took after her mum in the looks department. Roland had hair almost as black as Raven’s and eyes to match. Roland’s skin was a shade darker than Juniper’s pale olive complexion, and even at seventeen the boy could be a heartbreaker, Evie was certain of that. He also had a smile that, in Evie’s opinion, no teenage boy should have. It was positively dangerous. Just like his dad’s had been. Roland was the spitting image of his Italian dad – who was a bit of a lothario and returned to Italy soon after Roland’s second birthday. At least that was the
story. Jessie said she wouldn’t have been surprised if Sylvie – Juniper and Roland’s mum – had killed the man and buried him in the back garden, possibly because despite fathering two children, he still wouldn’t marry her. Sylvie had certainly been quick enough to get over him and marry her neighbour, Peter Green. She even changed her children’s surnames. Evie doubted there was any truth in her gran’s theory, but one thing was certain: Roggero Tazzeone’s whereabouts was a complete mystery.
‘Hi Evangeline,’ Roland said, perching on the arm of Juniper’s chair and staring intently into Evie’s eyes. ‘Sis said you needed a hand with some lights.’
Evie sat further back in her chair. ‘Hi Roland. Um … yes. But not tonight. It’s too dark to see what we’re doing.’
Roland always used her full name. Several times she’d told him to call her Evie but he said he liked Evangeline. No one except his sister called him Roly. He had been a tubby child and sisters can be cruel, but Roland didn’t seem to mind.
‘I’m free tomorrow. College has closed for the holidays. Or any day if tomorrow’s not cool. I’ll give you my number. Text me.’ He smiled at her in a way that said a whole lot more than “text me”.
Evie’s cheeks burned but it had nothing to do with the heat from the blazing log fire. Juniper’s throwaway comment might not have been too far off the mark. Did Roland have a secret crush on his sister’s best friend?
Oh hell. That was the last thing Evie needed.
Chapter Six
Evie threw open the curtains in Raven’s bedroom and screwed up her eyes against the light for a second time this morning. It had been several days, if not weeks, since the sun had shone on Snowflake Cove and it was taking some getting used to. When she had opened her own curtains just before eight a.m. and watched the sun rising on the horizon, she had shielded her eyes, like a vampire exposed to sudden daylight.
Golden rays now flooded Raven’s room, painting the whitewashed walls with a pale lemon sheen.
‘Rise and shine, sleepyhead,’ Evie said, in a singsong tone. ‘We’re going to buy Christmas trees.’
Pig-like grunts emanated from beneath Raven’s duvet.
‘What was that, Raven? You’ll be downstairs in ten minutes?’
‘Go away.’
‘That’s not very festive.’
‘Whatever.’
‘Come on. It’ll be fun.’
‘Leave me alone. It’s the middle of the night.’
‘It’s nine-fifteen. Mum’s cooking breakfast. Bacon, eggs, mushrooms, the works.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘Hmmm. That’s exactly what Roland said when he arrived five minutes ago, but once he got a whiff of grilled bacon, he seemed to change his mind.’
Raven sat bolt upright, her face contorted as the sunlight hit her in the eyes. ‘Jesus! Is that the sun?’ She raised a hand in front of her face, just as Evie had done.
Evie laughed. ‘Yep. Bit of a shock, I know.’
‘Roland’s here?’
‘Yep. We were discussing Christmas trees last night and he offered to help, so Juniper’s lent him her car. We’re off to Merry’s Christmas Tree Farm and then into town to sort out the lights. He’s going to give us a hand with those too, so he’ll probably be here all day. Juniper picked him up, drove to her office then he drove here. All we’re waiting for now, is you.’
Raven yawned and stretched before tumbling out of bed and padding towards her en-suite shower. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can. Don’t go without me. I hope there’s some hot water.’
Evie ruffled Raven’s hair as she walked past. ‘We won’t. Don’t worry. And yes. There’s plenty of hot water.’
Raven took the en-suite for granted, little knowing that Evie’s granddad had gone to great expense to install bathroom facilities to all the guest bedrooms, way back in the early nineteen-fifties after the Town and Country Planning Act of 1947 came in. He had been a man of vision and had realised how popular such things would become, long before many people understood the concept. He also seemed to anticipate how difficult it would be to get permission in the future. Evie’s own dad had fought long and hard and at equally great expense to be allowed to update them even a little. If they’d tried to get permission now, they would probably have failed.
Leaving Raven to it, Evie headed back downstairs, smiling. So there was a way to get Raven out of bed before noon. Who knew?
She sauntered into the kitchen and was met by one of Roland’s piercing looks. This was going to be an interesting day. Her and two intense teenagers. What could possibly go wrong?
‘She’ll be down soon,’ Evie said, avoiding Roland’s stare and sitting at the opposite end of the large kitchen table. ‘Are the two guests down yet?’
Molly shook her head, her ginger bob swishing about her florid, freckled face. ‘No, but they’ve got until ten.’ She had been standing over a hot stove for about an hour already this morning, baking more mince pies and three batches of sausage rolls. Evie wondered if her mum knew something she didn’t. There must be a good reason why they needed so many of both. Evie had dusted and hoovered the dining room, reception area, lounge and bar whilst her mum had baked and the smells of spices and sausage meat had made Evie ravenous.
‘So what’s the plan,’ John asked, pulling out a chair between Roland and Jessie and plonking himself on the seat, a broad smile on his jovial face.
Jessie looked startled. ‘Plan? I don’t have a plan. What’re you talking about?’
John eyed her beneath furrowed brows. ‘It wasn’t an accusation, Mum. It was a question. And it was directed at Evie, not you.’ He slipped an arm around Jessie’s shoulder and grinned. ‘Why? Are you hiding something from us?’
Jessie shrugged him off. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. What is this plan of yours then, Evie?’
Evie grinned. ‘To deck the halls with boughs of holly. And all that sort of stuff. Roland’s got Juniper’s car and we’re going to select the trees before heading into town. Would you like to come?’
Jessie raised her brows. ‘I can’t think of anything I’d rather do. Oh wait a minute. Yes, I can. My armchair and the crossword are calling me. You’re on your own.’ She slathered honey on her buttered toast and hummed along with the Christmas carol playing on the radio.
John joined in and a few seconds later as Molly placed a plate of bacon, eggs, mushrooms and tomatoes in front of Evie, Molly started singing the words to ‘Ding Dong Merrily on High’. Evie wasn’t going to be left out. She sang at the top of her voice. To her surprise, Roland did the same. His voice was far better than any of theirs, but he had been a soloist in The Holy Redeemer’s Church Choir in Michaelmas Bay for many years, so that was to be expected ... until he decided being a choirboy wasn’t cool.
‘What’s going on?’ Raven asked, from the kitchen doorway, causing a brief lull in the singsong. ‘I thought someone was murdering all of you. Oh! Not you, Roland. You’re ace. I mean … Your voice is ace, not you. No! Um.’ Her complexion was the colour of the tomatoes on Evie’s plate.
‘We know what you mean,’ Evie said.
Raven threw her a brief, appreciative smile before turning to Molly. ‘May I have some breakfast please, Granny M?’
Molly beamed at her. ‘Of course, darling. But you have to sing for it.’
Jessie tutted. ‘You sing for your supper, not breakfast.’
‘I’m not singing for anything, Grammie,’ Raven told Jessie.
‘Not in this kitchen,’ Molly said, still beaming.
Jessie shrugged and resumed the carol seconds before it ended.
Evie smiled and drank her coffee. This was a first. Not only were they all sitting around the kitchen table eating breakfast together, but Raven actually seemed to be in a good mood. Perhaps they should invite Roland over every day during Raven’s visit.
She glanced in his direction, meeting an intense gaze from eyes that shone like the jet in her gran’s favourite earrings. There was an odd sort of smile on his lips as
she quickly looked away.
Perhaps that wasn’t such a good idea. Having Raven in a bad mood might be preferable to being the object of desire of a teenager with a crush.
Chapter Seven
Roland turned right from the main road to Michaelmas Bay and Juniper’s Nissan Juke bumped and splashed along the muddy track leading to Merry’s Christmas Tree Farm.
‘I don’t know how they get away with calling this place a farm,’ Raven said. ‘It’s just one field.’
Evie leant forward. She had climbed onto the back seat the minute they walked across the bridge and got to the car park, ensuring Juniper would sit beside Roland in the front. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but as Roland had spent the entire journey, or most of it, glancing at Evie via the rear view mirror, it may have been a mistake.
‘Now you’re getting as bad as Gran. You say that every time you come here.’
Raven was right though. Merry’s Christmas Tree Farm was just a field, but it was part of the much larger Merry Farm and was run by Robin Merry, youngest son of Ashley and Ava Merry as a side line, once a year. The Merry family had owned the mainly arable farm for centuries, but farming wasn’t what it used to be and Robin, who at seventeen, was currently studying for his A-levels, was considering alternative careers. In the meantime, since he was a young boy, he had sold Christmas trees from one particular field at the entrance to the farm. A makeshift wooden sign was erected each year the moment Merry’s Christmas Tree Farm was trading. That was usually the second week of December and it remained open until five p.m. on Christmas Eve.
Instead of her usual caustic reply, Raven merely shrugged. She was obviously trying to impress Roland.
They pulled up to one side of the open gate leading to the field and piled out of the car into ankle-deep mud and to strains of Michael Bublé’s Christmas songs floating through the air. The sun was trying its best to dry out the earth but the fields and track were still saturated from weeks of rain. A light haze hovered above the ground as pools of water slowly evaporated.
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