Winter Hearts

by A. E. Radley

  A young mother and her toddler came up to the counter. The toddler opened its toothless mouth wide, ready to nibble on a copy of To the Lighthouse that was nestled in the mother’s arms. Kit pushed the mystery of Pinky aside and hurried over to serve them. And rescue the book.

  At lunch, Kit checked her phone and saw a missed call from Laura. With a little yelp of joy she called back, only to find that the line was occupied. She went to unpack her sandwich and make tea, then tried calling again. Laura was still in another call. Kit sat down and began eating. Her sandwich was filled with turkey and stuffing, in a vain attempt to force the Christmas spirit into her stomach if not into her mind. It sort of worked, at least as far as that the sandwiches were more celebratory with this filling than her usual unsweetened peanut butter.

  She tried Laura's phone one last time, still occupied. She sighed and dialled Aimee instead. Her best friend picked up right away.

  “Hey Aimee.”

  “Hello lesbian.”

  “You twit, what have I told you about greeting me by my sexuality?”

  “That it’s silly?”

  “Exactly. Anyway, how are you and more importantly how is my godson?”

  “George is good. He’s advanced from playing with his wooden blocks all the time to now also building with Duplo. His towers are getting higher and higher. And they trip me up more and more. So yeah, he’s happy.”

  “What about you?”

  Aimee made an infuriating noise, a sort of simpering sigh. “Blissfully happy. Carl’s turned out to be the man of my dreams.”

  Kit swallowed down that comment with some tea. “I’m glad you’re happy, sweetie. Is he celebrating Christmas at your place?”

  “No actually, we’re going to his parents in Winchester. It’ll be the first time I meet them.”

  “Ooooh, sounds like things are getting serious if you’re meeting his parents.”

  “His whole family, actually. Or at least nineteen of them. It’s a bit scary but most of all it makes me feel guilty because I haven’t let Carl meet my parents yet. You know how judgemental they can be. I don’t think they’ll like him. He’s got very little ambition, he can seem a little uncaring, and, well, he's not Korean.”

  “Ah, right. Well as long as you and George like him, who cares what they think? They disapprove of everything you like and everything you do since your divorce.”

  “Yeah, I miss the golden days of being accepted and appreciated. Now, the only thing they seem to like about my life is that I’m still in touch with you.”

  “Weird!”

  “No, not really,” Aimee said quietly. “You’ve got a job you excel at, an excellent partner, and you’re independent. That’s all they ever wanted for me.”

  “I don’t feel so independent right now. I feel lonely. I don’t live with you anymore. Or Rajesh. Laura is busy as the time. I don’t really socialise with anyone. And bloody Christmas is coming up. If this is being independent, it sucks.”

  “Sorry sweetheart.”

  Kit pinched the back of her hand when she realised she’d made something that was about Aimee revolve around herself. “What I wanted to say, Aimee, was that while I’m glad to be something your parents approve of, I’m sorry that it's not one of the things that you have achieved. Like your job, your nice apartment. Or you know, that perfect toddler who builds trip hazards.”

  Aimee hummed. “But then you did help me get this part-time job and apartment in one of your many ‘Kit can fix it’ projects. Granted, you had nothing to do with the making of George.”

  Kit scrunched up her nose so much she worried her glasses might fall down it. “I sure as hell didn’t. Yuck.”

  “Oi! I’ve said it a million times, what’s the point in having a lesbian best friend unless she fancies me? At least enough not to be grossed out by the idea of making a George with me.”

  “Look, I know you’re only messing with me but I recently ate so I think we should stop this incestuous line of conversation. Go back to talking about your parents or switch to my problematic love life instead,” Kit whinged.

  “Your love life? Problematic? You found the perfect partner! Laura’s kind, cute, and rich.”

  Kit spun her mug, watching the tea slosh around. “Laura wouldn’t agree with rich. Fruit farms don’t exactly rake it in and her family fortune dwindled generations ago when Howard Hall started needing pots of money for renovations. What little is left, Tom seems to be frittering away.”

  “Kit, I know that. I lived there for a short while, remember? Laura can still afford a cleaner and a cook to come in every afternoon. In my book, she’s rich.”

  “Fair point.”

  “Anyway, Laura’s all those great things and then, for some reason she fell in love with you,” Aimee teased. “I mean, it’s bizarre but not problematic.”

  “The fact that I can’t get more than two hours alone with her at a time is.”

  “Yeah, you mentioned that she’s still busy.”

  “Mm. I’ve been trying to leave her alone, to not stress her or seem too clingy. But I miss her.”

  “Well,” Aimee said in a maternal tone. “If she’s so busy and stressed don’t you think she’d appreciate her girlfriend coming over with something nice to eat, a sympathetic ear and offering a neck massage or something?”

  Kit chewed the inside of her cheek. “Huh. I think you may have a point.” She gazed into her mug of tea. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Because you’re a plant pot,” Aimee replied.

  Kit rolled her eyes. “I think I prefer it when you straight-up call me silly to when you start using imagery in your insults.”

  “I prefer the poetic approach, mate. As a bookworm, I thought you’d appreciate that. Now go shelve a book or something.”

  “God, you’re a nuisance,” Kit said with a laugh. “Say hello to the little builder from me. I love you.”

  “I love you too, plant pot. Bye.”

  Kit pushed the phone into the tiny pocket of her skinny jeans and sat back. Then, while finishing her tea, she pondered what to bring over to Howard Hall when she surprised Laura.

  LET’S TALK ABOUT SEX. AND CHRISTMAS

  The workday was finally at an end. And Kit was finally at Laura’s door. Waiting for her to answer the ring of Howard Hall’s jarring, antiquated doorbell.

  The door flew open and Laura grabbed Kit by the lapels of her coat and pulled her into a kiss. Then into a hug. Then through the door and into Howard Hall.

  The warm of the house gave Kit almost as much pleasure as the hugs and kisses, December was really making itself known now and shouting from the rooftops that winter had dug its heels in.

  “You knew it was me then?” Kit teased. “Or do you greet everyone like this?”

  Laura blushed. “Of course not. I happened to be by the window while on a call to a supplier and saw you arriving.”

  Laura took Kit’s scarf and coat off and hung them up for her. Then she pointed to the paper bag in Kit’s hand and asked, “Oh! What’s that?”

  “Fish and chips. I also brought two bottles of that new tonic you like. I assumed you had gin knocking about somewhere around here.”

  Laura leaned in for a kiss and sneakily peered into the bag as she did so. “You know me so well, dearest. And thank you for bringing food, I’m positively starving.”

  She headed for the stairs leading to the huge, Victorian-styled kitchen in the basement. Kit followed her, asking, “Haven’t eaten much today?”

  Laura smoothed down her auburn curls which had begun to frizz. “No. During lunch I had to be on the phone to a supplier. At the same time as I read a complaint from one of the sellers at the Christmas market. It’s been manic.”

  “But you ate something, right?

  “I managed to scoff a bag of crisps and a bottle of juice. But that was all, and as you know I am not one for skipping meals.”

  “No, not to mention the snacks you usually have. No wonder you’re hungry.”
<
br />   They arrived down in the kitchen, which always seemed abandoned when Howard Hall’s part-time cook wasn’t there making soups and preserves, or whatever she did every afternoon. There were sprigs of holly above the huge, old stove but other than that, no Christmas ornaments anywhere.

  Laura took out some plates and Kit watched her, now noticing that Laura was paler than usual. There were bags under her eyes as well.

  Kit grabbed the cutlery that Laura was now holding and put them down on the countertop, then she caressed a few curls out of Laura’s face while murmuring, “you're working too hard, baby.”

  Laura looked down. “I know. I also know it means I’ve been neglecting you. Work is work and that always keeps me busy but…” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I thought things would slow down after the market was up and running but clearly I was being naïve. If the events committee decide they want to arrange another Christmas market next year, I’m bowing out. I’m so sorry that I haven’t had much time for you.”

  “Hey, it’s okay baby. When I started dating you I knew that you were devoted to Greengage and the people on it and that you always put others before yourself. I knew what I was getting into.” Kit sighed. “And while I have been whinging about you not having time for me, I’m more worried about the fact that you don’t have time for yourself.”

  Kit put two fingers under Laura’s chin and lifted her face until they were eye to eye again. “Are you getting enough sleep?”

  Laura kissed Kit’s fingers and then took her hand. “Not really. I feel guilty because I’m not spending enough time at work, not enough time sorting out the market, and certainly not enough time with you. That all makes it hard to sleep. Also, I can't shut my thoughts off at night.” She edged closer to Kit with a tentative smile. “It doesn’t help that since I work well into the nights, I so rarely have my favourite teddybear with me at night. Will you spend the night here tonight?”

  “The only thing that could stop this teddybear from staying would be you telling me to go.”

  “Well.” Laura paused to smirk and there was a little of her usual energy in her eyes. “That’s certainly not going to happen.”

  Kit squeezed her hand. “Great! First, let’s get some food in you. I’ll plate up the fish and chips if you go to whichever fancy drink trolley is nearest and grab a bottle of gin.”

  Laura closed her eyes and gave a satisfied sigh. “Ah, the relief of not being the one giving the orders.”

  “Hey, if you want someone to order you around tonight, that can be achieved,” Kit purred. “Hell, if you’d like, I can even tie you to the bed to keep you from feeling that you have to be at the wheel.”

  Laura winked. “As long as I’m not too tired - that sounds like a plan.” She took out two highball glasses. “Now I’m going upstairs to find some gin. There’s lemon slices in the fridge and ice in the freezer, obviously. See you up in the dining room.”

  She walked up the stairs and Kit couldn’t stop herself from watching her go.

  When she was gone, Kit realised that her knees had gone weak at the sight of Laura’s perfectly fitted, imposing Savile Row suit.

  And that her heart had gone weak at the glimpse of what looked like black socks with red apples on them that Laura had paired it with.

  My bloody brilliant fruit farmer and her duality; all refined business until you get the top layer off, then it’s all cuteness.

  Kit dished up the food and prepared to give it a quick blast in the microwave.

  Let’s get her fed, drunk and see if she wants to get laid or only cuddled tonight.

  As the microwave whirred, Kit realised she was happy. No matter what they were going to do, she had a whole evening with Laura. Maybe they’d even talk about Christmas. Or she could finally tell Laura about the Find Pinky Mission.

  Dinner and two gin and tonics into the evening, Kit had ramped up the flirting since Laura didn’t seem to be too tired to be amorous.

  Now, Kit leaned in for a kiss before crooning, “As I said, I’ll call the shots and do all the work. I know you’re not used to that but it’s never too late to learn something new. All you have to do is lay there and tell me what feels good. Sound okay?”

  “Sounds heavenly,” Laura breathed. “But I think I’ll need some sort of dessert first to give me energy to, um, finish.”

  “Good idea. Knowing you, there’ll be some biscuits somewhere, right?”

  Laura smiled. “Obviously! There’s ice cream and some leftover jam sponge too.”

  “Smashing. Then we can get a sweet treat and maybe talk about Christmas? I haven’t brought it up because you’ve been busy and I assumed you’d have to spend Christmas here with your shitty brother. Family duty and all that gubbins. But I’m hoping to see some of you and hand over your present at least.”

  Laura reached over the table and took Kit’s hand. “My dearest, beautiful darling. Of course—”

  She got no further as the house phone picked that moment to ring. Laura let go of Kit’s hand and rubbed her forehead. “You’re going to kill me but I have to take that. I was sort of expecting a call from a colleague regarding a possible marketing alliance. He could only ring tonight if it’s to be discussed before Christmas but to be honest I was hoping he’d forget.”

  Kit picked up a napkin and wiped her mouth. “It’s okay! Go ahead and take it. I'm not going anywhere.”

  Laura rushed off to the phone and Kit stifled a sigh. She sipped her third G & T and waited. Minutes passed. Kit looked around the threadbare but sophisticated room with that same feeling of being out of place that Howard Hall usually gave her. She was used to grubby little London flats.

  I bet it’d look less intimidating with some Christmas decorations.

  Another few minutes snailed past. Then Kit put her glass down.

  I might as well be productive.

  She fished out her phone and texted Shannon that Rajesh didn’t seem a likely culprit and that the next move would indeed be for her to chat to Matt and Josh.

  It only took a moment before Shannon texted back that that all sounded fine and thanked her again for helping out.

  Kit finished her drink and put her phone on the table, waiting for the woman she loved and humming Jingle Bells under her breath. She refilled her own glass and Laura’s, making sure that Laura had a little extra gin to make up for the drink she’d missed.

  When Kit had finished her cocktail making, Laura came back. Her usually so sweet face was set in a determined look. She placed her phone on the table, right on top of Kit’s. Then she took Kit’s hand and said, “That’s it! Enough of all chatter and distractions. Right now, I want to make love with the woman I adore. Then I want to sleep in her arms. Sound agreeable?”

  “Abso-bloody-lutely!” Kit shouted and jumped up from her seat.

  They hurried upstairs to the master bedroom, all discussions of Christmas or explanations about the Pinky search out the window.

  I’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS, WHAT ABOUT YOU?

  White wintery light was prodding at Kit’s closed eyelids.

  Buggering bollocks. It can’t be morning. We only fell asleep a minute ago.

  When spending the night at Howard Hall, Kit usually woke up to Laura getting ready for work. She was always needed out in the orchards or down in the office long before Kit had to be at the library to open up.

  This morning, when Kit finally agreed to open her eyes, it was clear that Laura wasn’t just getting ready for work. She was doing the elaborate dance of someone trying to hurry but still be quiet. Also, her lips were moving in what looked like a tirade of the f-word. Considering Laura’s harshest curse word was usually “blooming” this was worrying.

  “Everything all right?’ Kit asked.

  “Oh, good morning dearest. Honestly? Nothing’s all right. I made the mistake of checking my emails a moment ago and saw that there was a complaint regarding copyright infringement of a logo.”

  “What?”

  “Yes. Obviously, it c
ame from South Gage Farm, like most far-fetched, time wasting nonsense does. How dare they? As if they haven’t copied everything that Gage Farm has done ever since I was a child and my parents ran it.”

  Kit raised herself up to lean on her elbows. “Yeah, I remember when you and I were about to start dating and you guys were creating that logo. That was April. South Gage Farm changed theirs last week, right? So where the hell do they get off saying that you have copied them?”

  Laura shook her head. “There’s no rhyme nor reason to their complaints. They merely like to cause trouble and to whinge. Anyway, I have to deal with it because it looks bad to the public.”

  Kit rubbed sleep out of her eyes. “Yeah, of course. You get going. I’ll just wash up and get dressed. Then I’ll scrounge up some breakfast and bring something to you out in the office before I head off to the library.”

  Laura paused while buttoning her shirt. “Really? That would be wonderful. I can get tea and coffee down in the office, but the only food I have there is a pack of raisins, and quite frankly I’m going to need more than that in me to deal with the Stevensons’.”

  “Good god yes,” Kit muttered.

  The Stevensons ran the competing fruit farm on the island and were notoriously stubborn and rude. And due to an ancient feud and infected dispute over Gage Farm, they were eager to cause any Howard some trouble. Especially ever since their golden son and heir had run off with Laura’s aunt.

  Kit stayed there, warm and sleepy, and watched Laura do her hair and make-up. There was something so intimate and fascinating about watching all the little rituals that went into making the sweet, soft, freckled woman she had cuddled all night into the polished businesswoman who was now putting on her suit jacket.