Christmas at the Star and Sixpence

by Holly Hepburn

  ‘Fine,’ Sam sighed, taking a seat at the table. ‘Pass me the pen.’

  Relieved, Nessie sat back and watched as her sister wove her magic on the paper. She’d been thinking about Ruby and Cal a lot more since reading their father’s last letter; it had made her determined not to let history repeat itself. Ruby deserved the chance to make things right with her son. Nessie just hoped she and Sam could convince Cal too.

  Chapter Four

  ‘Nessie, I’d like you to meet Gweneth.’

  Nessie surreptitiously wiped her hand on her jeans and stepped out from behind the bar, hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. It was ridiculous to feel intimidated by Owen’s mother-in-law, she reminded herself as she summoned up a warm smile; she was thirty-six years old, not sixteen. Meeting her boyfriend’s family should be a breeze.

  ‘Hello, Gweneth, it’s lovely to meet you at last,’ she said, holding out her hand. ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’

  The blonde-haired woman did not smile back. Instead, she touched Nessie’s outstretched fingers for the briefest of seconds and then let her arm drop. ‘Hello.’

  Nessie kept her smile in place and tried again. ‘Can I get you a drink? A coffee or a glass of wine?’

  Gweneth’s eyes had been flicking around the pub, taking in every detail. It was Friday lunchtime and the bar was quiet but Nessie still wished she’d made the time to clear the empty glasses that were dotted here and there, especially when Gweneth’s cold blue gaze came to rest on her. ‘It’s a little early for me, thank you.’

  Nessie’s heart sank; the disapproval in the other woman’s voice had been unmistakable. Where was Sam when she needed her? Nessie wondered, resisting the urge to glance wildly around. A bit of charm would work wonders now.

  Owen stepped forwards. ‘Gweneth arrived yesterday, from Aberystwyth. She’s staying with us while Kathryn is away.’

  And that was a sign Owen was nervous too, Nessie thought, because he knew she was well aware why Gweneth was staying; they’d talked about it over dinner a few nights ago. ‘Oh yes, of course,’ Nessie said politely. ‘Did you have a good journey?’

  ‘Tolerable, I suppose,’ Gweneth replied. ‘It’s been so long since I’ve visited Little Monkham that I’d forgotten how far it was.’

  There was a faint whisper of accusation behind the words. Nessie cleared her throat hurriedly. ‘I’m sure Luke is excited you’re here. He’s been talking about your visit all week.’

  Again, Gweneth’s steely gaze swept over Nessie. ‘Do you spend a lot of time with my grandson, Nessa?’

  Nessie glanced briefly at Owen to see if he was picking up the same vibe she was. She saw his forehead had crinkled into a frown. ‘I babysit sometimes.’ She felt her cheeks begin to heat up. ‘And – well, I suppose you could say we’re . . . that we’ve been—’

  ‘Nessie and I are seeing each other,’ Owen cut in easily. ‘So of course she spends a lot of time with Luke. He thinks the world of her.’

  ‘The feeling is mutual,’ Nessie said, smiling at Owen partly in gratitude and partly in delight. ‘He’s a very special boy.’

  Gweneth looked as though she’d been slapped. ‘I see.’ Her lips tightened until they were almost white. ‘I didn’t realise that was the situation, Owen.’

  He tipped his head. ‘And now you do.’

  ‘Now I do,’ Gweneth echoed, aiming a hard stare at Nessie. ‘Well, I don’t think I need to keep you any longer. It looks like you have plenty of work to do here.’

  She produced a smile that went nowhere near her eyes and turned on her heel. Owen flashed Nessie an apologetic look and turned to follow but Nessie grabbed his arm. ‘You didn’t think to tell her beforehand?’

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t think she’d react like that.’ He squeezed her fingers. ‘I’ll pop over later, we can talk more then.’

  Nessie watched him go and let out a shaky breath. Sam had been right about Gweneth Morgan; she was going to be trouble.

  Nessie kept her distance from Snowdrop Cottage over the next few days, although she was so busy managing Festive Fayre disasters that it wasn’t hard. The merry-go-round Sam had booked had suddenly cancelled and it had taken Nessie a lot of desperate phone calls to find a replacement. A mini-feud, which had broken out between Henry and Martha’s husband, Rob, over who was best qualified to be the village Father Christmas, had required all of Father Goodluck’s diplomatic skills to resolve it. And if the temperature kept dropping, they were all in danger of freezing, but there was nothing Nessie could do about that.

  Owen was true to his word and called into the Star and Sixpence to reassure Nessie that he was sure Gweneth didn’t hate her; she was just having trouble adjusting to being in Little Monkham, with its constant reminders of Eliza. Sam had raised her eyebrows and suggested Owen could have handled it better.

  ‘At least Luke is happy she’s here,’ she said.

  Nessie had winced. ‘Actually, I’m not sure he is. I watched him leaving for school this morning and you know what he’s usually like – he chatters non-stop. But not today. He didn’t say a word and he looked so fed up.’

  Sam shook her head. ‘Huh. When is Kathryn back again?’

  ‘Christmas Eve,’ Nessie replied. ‘But what if this becomes a regular thing? What if Kathryn decides to move out and Owen needs Gweneth’s help more and more?’

  ‘That’s not going to happen,’ Sam said, but she sounded less than certain.

  ‘It might,’ Nessie argued. ‘Kathryn has already said she’s worried life is passing her by.’

  ‘I meant that Owen wouldn’t rely on Gweneth,’ Sam said. ‘Not if he sees how unhappy Luke is around her.’

  Nessie sighed. ‘I don’t know. I could be wrong – maybe Luke was just in a grump about something.’

  ‘How unhappy you are, then,’ Sam said. ‘It doesn’t sound like Owen has the best relationship with Gweneth himself.’

  ‘I suppose it’s hard for her too,’ Nessie said. ‘She might come round in a day or two, once she’s settled in.’

  But Gweneth showed no signs of coming round – in fact, she’d crossed the street to avoid Nessie on Saturday morning. Owen had been conspicuously absent from the Star and Sixpence too, something Ruby had been quick to notice.

  ‘No Owen tonight?’ she’d asked across the bar as she sipped the peach and elderflower mocktail Connor had rustled up for her.

  Nessie had tried her hardest to look casual. ‘Not tonight. I expect he’s keeping Gweneth company.’

  Ruby leaned forwards. ‘Not willingly, I bet,’ she said in a wicked stage-whisper. ‘Have you checked she hasn’t chained him to his anvil?’

  ‘Ruby!’ Nessie said, trying not to laugh. ‘That’s not very nice.’

  ‘Nor is Gweneth Morgan,’ Ruby replied. ‘I know it can’t have been easy losing her daughter like that but I seem to remember she could freeze molten lava with a single glance long before Eliza fell ill.’

  ‘Owen and I are going out for a drink on Monday evening,’ Nessie said. ‘Providing Gweneth doesn’t mind babysitting Luke.’

  ‘Ay, there’s the rub,’ Ruby said, sighing. ‘I’m sorry to be a pessimist but I wouldn’t count on Gweneth to do anything that allows Owen to spend time with you, Nessie.’

  Nessie had tried not to let it bother her, but she almost groaned out loud when she took some flowers to her father’s grave on Sunday morning and saw Gweneth standing just a few plots away at Eliza’s. She thought about turning around and then squared her shoulders and carried on walking; she wasn’t afraid of Gweneth Morgan.

  When Gweneth turned around, Nessie nearly changed her mind. The other woman watched her approach in a frosty silence that had little to do with the sub-zero temperature.

  ‘Good morning, Gweneth,’ Nessie said, doing her best to sound friendly. ‘How are you enjoying your stay in Little Monkham?’

  The atmosphere became even colder. ‘I’m standing at my daughter’s grave. Enjoying is hardly the word I’d choose.’


  Nessie felt her face flush. ‘Of course – I didn’t mean . . . I’m very sorry for your loss. From what I’ve heard, Eliza was a wonderful person.’

  Gweneth glanced down at Eliza’s gravestone, hiding her face from Nessie. ‘Yes, she was. Irreplaceable.’

  Unsure what to say next, Nessie started to arrange the flowers she’d brought on her father’s grave.

  ‘Of course – you’re Andrew Chapman’s daughter,’ Gweneth announced suddenly. ‘That certainly explains why you were drinking at lunchtime on Friday.’

  Nessie felt a thorn sink into her finger as she clenched the stem she was feeding into the sunken vase. ‘I wasn’t drinking,’ she said as evenly as she could manage with her thudding heart. ‘I offered you a drink, out of politeness, because you were in a pub and that’s what people often do in pubs.’

  The other woman sniffed. ‘Believe me, I know. You get all kinds of people in those places.’

  The words themselves were innocent but the inflection behind them was not. Nessie stood up. ‘Do you know, I think I’ll come back and do this later.’

  Gweneth’s eyes narrowed. ‘Not so fast. There are a few things you and I need to get straight.’

  ‘I don’t think—’

  ‘Owen was married to my daughter and Luke is my grandson,’ Gweneth said, as though she hadn’t heard Nessie speak. ‘They are my family.’

  Nessie opened her mouth to speak again but Gweneth cut across her. ‘And maybe in the fullness of time, Owen might find someone new to settle down with, but I am bloody sure that someone isn’t going to be you.’

  Nessie stepped back as though she’d been whipped. ‘What exactly do you have against me?’

  Gweneth glared at her. ‘Look at you – you’re half the woman Eliza was. You work behind a bar all day and you stink of beer – if you think for one moment I’d let someone like you look after my grandson then you’ve got another think coming. I’d take him to live with me before that happened.’

  The world tipped around Nessie – this was crazy! Had Gweneth really just suggested she might take Luke away from his father? ‘What?’

  Gweneth shrugged. ‘There are signs of neglect everywhere I look. Owen is too busy working in the forge to take proper care of the boy and I don’t suppose that sister of his is much better, when she’s here. As far as I can tell, Luke spends most of his time playing computer games. He certainly doesn’t want to do any of the things I suggest.’

  Nessie’s mouth fell open. ‘Luke isn’t neglected.’

  ‘Maybe, maybe not,’ Gweneth said, her voice suddenly oily. ‘But I can certainly see reasons for suggesting it. I think Social Services would listen to a concerned grandparent, don’t you? If I decided it was necessary . . .’

  And suddenly, Nessie understood. ‘You want me to back off.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of suggesting such a thing. But if you care about Luke as much as you say you do—’

  Nessie felt as though the air had turned to treacle. ‘You want me to back off or you’ll take Luke away from Owen.’

  Gweneth said nothing. She simply stood beside Eliza’s grave, watching Nessie with a little half smile. ‘I’ll leave you to think it over,’ she said eventually, sweeping past Nessie. ‘I’m sure you’ll do what’s best for everyone.’

  Nessie stared after her, wondering if she’d imagined the entire conversation. Gweneth couldn’t really have suggested she’d report Owen to Social Services if Nessie didn’t end their relationship. And yet her final words still rang in Nessie’s ears – I’m sure you’ll do what’s best for everyone . . .

  Ruby had been more right than she could possibly know, Nessie thought faintly as she bent once more to arrange the flowers on her father’s grave. Gweneth might not have Owen chained up with iron but she had him trapped nonetheless.

  Nessie’s feeling that she was caught in some kind of never-ending nightmare continued throughout Sunday and spilled into Monday. She got the breakfast order wrong for Mr and Mrs Guthrie in the guest rooms and had to offer profuse apologies, then inexplicably managed to wash a red sock in with the white towels, turning them all salmon pink. Sam noticed her preoccupied air and asked her several times what was wrong; Nessie thought about telling her the truth but she knew her sister would be outraged, and that she’d insist on confronting Gweneth, which could have all kinds of unintended consequences. Nessie had no idea whether the woman meant her threat or not but a direct confrontation was the last thing she wanted, especially when Luke’s wellbeing was at stake. No, she’d make some discreet enquiries first, Nessie decided; maybe speak to Kathryn about Gweneth Morgan, and then she’d work out what to do next. Unfortunately, that also meant she needed to convince Gweneth that she was going along with her plan without explaining to Owen what was happening. He was going to be confused and disappointed, Nessie thought, closing her eyes. And so was Sam.

  ‘You’re quiet this evening,’ Owen said, as they sat opposite each other in a restaurant a few miles from Little Monkham.

  Nessie did her best to smile but she knew it was a poor effort. ‘I’ve got a bit of a headache, to be honest.’

  He threw her a concerned look. ‘Why didn’t you say something? We could have postponed tonight and gone out when you were feeling better.’

  Nessie sighed. ‘It seemed a shame to waste a ready-made babysitter.’ She paused to gather up some courage and then went on. ‘How are you getting on with your new housemate, anyway?’

  Owen took his time chewing a mouthful of steak and Nessie wondered if he was buying himself time to find a diplomatic answer. ‘Not bad, I suppose. She’s got some old-fashioned ideas about bedtime that I think Luke is struggling with, and she refuses to read him any Harry Potter so he waits until she’s gone and reads it under the bed sheets.’

  Nessie let out a brief laugh. ‘That sounds like Luke.’

  ‘And me, when I was a kid,’ Owen said, his eyes crinkling at the edges. ‘I was forever staying up late to finish reading a book when I was his age. I still do, to be honest.’

  Nessie tried to banish an appealing image of Owen tucked up between white cotton sheets, immersed in a book. ‘But Luke is happy around her, isn’t he?’ she persisted. ‘He likes being with her?’

  ‘He seems to, which is probably a good thing seeing as she’s suggested he goes and stays with her sometime in the future.’

  Nessie almost dropped her fork. ‘Has she? What have you told her?’

  The words came out sharper than she’d intended, causing Owen to frown. ‘I said we’d see how things went. What’s with all the questions, Nessie? What’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Nessie said wretchedly. ‘It’s just—’

  She stopped as a sudden urge to tell him the truth came over her. It didn’t sound as though he was especially enjoying his mother-in-law’s visit, nor did she get the feeling Luke was especially happy, either. But Owen was like Sam; if Nessie explained what Gweneth had said, he’d insist on confronting her. And then things could probably only go one way: she would deny everything, making Nessie look neurotic and insecure, and then she’d put her horrible plan into action, causing a lot more heartache for everyone. The suggestion that Luke go and stay with her for a few days could be meant as a reminder to Nessie of what might happen if she didn’t do as Gweneth demanded . . .

  ‘I think we should take a break,’ Nessie blurted out.

  Owen’s frown deepened. ‘From dinner?’

  She took a deep breath. ‘No, from us – you and me.’

  ‘Oh,’ Owen said, suddenly very still. ‘Right.’

  Beneath the table, she clenched her hands into fists, willing herself to say what needed to be said. ‘It’s just that things seem to be moving so fast these days – my divorce isn’t finalised yet and . . . well, I think we should step back a bit, that’s all. Work out what we really want.’

  Owen lowered his fork and stared at her. ‘I already know what I want.’

  The look in his eyes made Nessie shiver,
in spite of what she was trying to say, and she had to push the feeling aside to concentrate. ‘Don’t ask me to explain because I can’t.’

  ‘Is this about your divorce?’ he asked, sounding bewildered. ‘Because you know I don’t give two hoots whether you’ve got your Decree Absolute or not.’

  Nessie shook her head. ‘No, it’s nothing to do with that.’ She paused, trying to ignore the sickness in the pit of her stomach. ‘Look – it’s almost Christmas, we’re both going to be busy. Why don’t we agree to take a break until the New Year?’

  Owen studied her in silence for a moment. ‘You didn’t feel like this last week. What’s changed?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she said, unable to meet his gaze. ‘It’s for the best, that’s all. You’re going to have to trust me.’

  The silence grew, until Owen reached across to take Nessie’s hand. ‘Okay, if that’s what you want. I trust you.’

  She swallowed as tears blurred her vision. ‘It is what I want.’

  ‘Then it’s fine with me.’ He squeezed her fingers gently. ‘You’re worth waiting for, Nessie Blake.’

  It was all so unfair, Nessie thought, fighting the hot miserable tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks. But it was also the only way she could see to protect Luke and Owen from Gweneth. Blinking hard, Nessie took a few seconds to compose herself and then looked up into Owen’s dark-eyed gaze.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, managing a wavering smile. ‘I hope you’re right.’

  Chapter Five

  ‘You’ve done what?’

  Sam stared incredulously at her sister on Tuesday morning, unable to believe what she’d just heard. The last time they’d spoken about Owen, Nessie had been going to invite him to the Pub of the Year awards in London and now, by some twist of logic Sam couldn’t even begin to understand, she seemed to have broken up with him instead.

  Nessie had the grace to look shamefaced. ‘Keep your voice down,’ she said, glancing around the quiet bar. ‘It’s only a temporary break and I do have my reasons.’