Mince Pies and Mistletoe at the Christmas Market

by Heidi Swain

  ‘Have you tried his mobile?’ I suggested.

  Bea looked at me witheringly and I had the feeling that Steve wasn’t the only one skating on thin ice.

  ‘Of course I have,’ she tutted, ‘and his flat. It’s all locked up and he’s never given me a key so I can’t even get inside to make sure he hasn’t had an accident.’

  ‘What an imagination you have,’ chuckled Steve.

  Bea turned her beady attention to him.

  ‘So where is he then?’ she demanded. ‘You’re his best friend. He must have said something to you. Boyfriends don’t just disappear off the face of the earth the day before Christmas Eve for no reason. He’s got another girl, hasn’t he?’ she sobbed. ‘Some pert young thing he’s rescued and he’s got so sick of me hinting about marriage proposals he’s gone off with her somewhere. Oh God, I’m going to be Miss Havisham!’

  ‘Of course you aren’t,’ I soothed, ‘that’s a silly thing to say. Isn’t it, Steve?’ I scowled, looking to him for support.

  ‘Completely silly,’ he agreed with a smile.

  ‘There,’ I told her.

  ‘Compeyson had proposed to Amelia Havisham before he buggered off, if my school memories of studying the plot are still up to speed.’

  Bea started to sob into her already saturated tissue.

  ‘Oh well done,’ I said, glowering at Steve who seemed to think the whole situation was highly amusing.

  ‘What?’ he mouthed silently before draining his pint glass.

  I continued to glare at him, beseeching him to say something to soothe my sad friend.

  ‘Oh, he’ll turn up,’ he said, leaning forward and patting Bea’s knee. ‘I’m sure he hasn’t gone far, but perhaps you should break into the flat just to make sure.’

  ‘Could I do that?’ asked Bea, looking up at him, wide-eyed and raring to go. ‘Do you think I should?’

  ‘Of course not,’ he laughed, ‘honestly, Bea. He’ll be back in time to watch you open your presents, I’m sure.’

  ‘You do know something, don’t you?’ she asked again.

  ‘Nope,’ he said, giving me a sly wink. ‘I know absolutely nothing about anything.’

  Chapter 30

  Having spent the larger part of the previous evening trying to placate Bea and convince her that she was the only young, pert woman that Sam was interested in, and not thinking about what might have happened between Steve and me had she not burst in when she did, I wasn’t feeling quite as ready for Christmas Eve as I would have liked. Fortunately, however, when I arrived to set up the stall for the last time, Gwen’s smiling face coupled with the sheet of paper she was brandishing soon sent my seasonal spirits soaring back up to where they should have been.

  ‘Here,’ she said, thrusting the sheet into my hands, ‘read this! We’ve all been given a copy and this one’s yours.’

  ‘What is it?’ I said, smoothing it out and noting the council logo emblazoned across the top.

  ‘Read it!’ insisted Gwen. ‘Just read it!’

  As my eyes scanned over the paragraphs, some of the other stallholders wandered over to join us and by the time I had finished reading everyone was chattering excitedly and looking far happier than I could ever remember seeing them.

  ‘Looks like we’re not going anywhere after all then,’ boomed Chris, his face radiant and relaxed, ‘Wynbridge market is here to stay!’

  His voice echoing around the stalls was met with cheers from every direction.

  ‘And this says there are plans for even more events to be scheduled next year,’ I cheered, my own complexion as flushed as Chris’s. ‘This really is wonderful news,’ I told them all, ‘I’m so pleased you’re all here for the duration.’

  ‘The Smith family have had more than a small part to play in securing the future of our livelihoods these last few weeks and I for one am very grateful,’ sniffed Shirley, her rough and ready tone sounding unusually softened.

  ‘Well, I’ve certainly tried my best,’ I said, ‘not that I really knew just how at risk your future was when I started out,’ I reminded them, ‘and I’m still amazed that you’ve all so readily forgiven Dad for being swept along with this corrupt developer.’

  Everyone turned to look at Chris again.

  ‘Now, Ruby,’ he said sternly, ‘you know as well as I do that we still haven’t heard the whole story as far as that’s concerned.’

  ‘So you don’t really believe it either, then?’ I asked.

  ‘None of us do,’ cut in Simon. ‘Jude and I listened to your dad singing the praises of Wynbridge long enough the Sunday he showed us around the shop to know that he wasn’t the type to jeopardise the town by taking a bribe, or even by being tempted to take one,’ he quickly added, before I reminded him that the situation had never had a chance to get that far.

  ‘So what do you think has gone on?’ I said to Chris.

  ‘We’ll find out all in good time, I’m sure,’ he said good-naturedly. ‘Now come on everyone, we need to make the most of today. I suggest we pack up around three and head to The Mermaid. Everyone up for it?’

  Marie lingered behind as the others went back to finish setting up.

  ‘You all right, Ruby?’ she asked, her manner not at all assured, ‘I haven’t had a chance to talk to you for a few days.’

  ‘I’m OK,’ I shrugged, ‘still looking forward to getting away, to be honest.’

  ‘I spoke to Steve last night,’ she said, distractedly fingering the bunting I had strung up across the front of the stall. ‘He told me that you talked about what your dad did.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘He seemed to think that you were going to say something else but Bea arrived looking for Sam and you didn’t get the chance.’

  Inwardly I cursed Steve for telling anyone, especially his mother. I loved Marie to bits, always had, but I knew that she and Mum had already had their heads together on more than one occasion trying to decide what was to be done about us, when what they really needed to do was butt out. Mum was too discreet to say anything but Marie, with her fiery temper and forthright manner, was struggling with her position in the back seat.

  ‘Do you know if he’s turned up yet?’ I asked, trying to get her to change the subject.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Sam.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. He’s still off on his travels or whatever it is he’s doing, and talking of travels,’ she began, ‘have you booked your plane ticket yet, Ruby?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘not yet. I’m waiting until Jemma and I have sorted out the stall money.’ I don’t know why I’d felt the need to explain that. It wasn’t anyone else’s business. ‘I’ll probably go to Peterborough after Boxing Day.’

  ‘Is that the only reason why you haven’t booked?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You aren’t holding out to see if you need to book two seats, by any chance?’

  I knew exactly what she was getting at, but why she would think I would want to travel halfway around the world with an ex-boyfriend was beyond me. The sooner she and everybody else could accept that Steve and I were not getting back together the better. I was about to say as much when I realised she had pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and her eyes were filled with tears.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she sobbed quietly, ‘I know you probably think I’m an interfering old cow.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ I smiled.

  ‘But I just want to see one of my boys happy,’ she said, wiping her eyes. ‘All I want is to see my Steve living the life he wants, rather than the one he had thrust on him when we lost our Sean.’

  ‘But why would you think that the life he wants would revolve around me any more?’ I asked, in the hope that she would get the message that I was very probably not the answer to her son’s dreams.

  ‘Well, if you haven’t worked that out by now,’ she said stiffly, ‘then you’re an even bigger fool than I thought.’

  By lunchtime the earlier crowds of
townsfolk had started to disappear and beyond the sound of the enthusiastic carollers singing their hearts out under Chris and Marie’s beautiful trees at either end of the square, there was little in the way of customers. The final few stragglers had begun to head for home, each weighed down with last-minute presents, bunches of mistletoe and the odd forgotten Christmas dinner component as predicted by Evelyn in the pub the night before.

  Lizzie had been right not to worry herself over making any extra stockings as there were still a few left, hopefully for next year, but Jemma’s bakes, buns and biscuits had sold out completely. Not so much as a crumb was left and from what I’d seen, lots of people had been eating them on the go. A timely sugar hit amid the general chaos.

  ‘Well, that’s it,’ said Bob, as a customer left, clasping their shopping bags, ‘that was the last cat Christmas stocking we had.’

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘You thought I was mad when I suggested you tried selling a few seasonal things, didn’t you?’

  ‘I’ve thought you were mad about a lot of things,’ he admitted with a chuckle, ‘but I’m delighted to say you’ve proved me wrong on every single occasion.’

  ‘Good,’ I smiled back, trying to relax and stretch out my shivering spine, ‘there’s nothing as satisfying as proving people wrong! Are you packing up now?’

  ‘Yes,’ he nodded, ‘I think we’ll call it a day. Jude will want to get the sprouts on in about an hour,’ he said with a wink.

  ‘No she will not,’ said Jude, appearing from behind a stack of boxes at the side of the stall. ‘Mushy veg was more your mother’s speciality than mine, thank you very much.’

  I left them arguing mildly between themselves and turned back to look at the stall with its pretty sparkling fairy lights and the clever ‘Makes and Bakes’ banner Lizzie had painted in time for my first day of trading. It was impossible to believe that my weeks of working at the market had flashed by so quickly. It seemed like only yesterday that I was drinking cheap coffee in my student digs and accepting Lizzie and Jemma’s offer with such enthusiasm.

  As I began to unpin the lengths of bunting and lights, I couldn’t help but wonder whether if I’d had the benefit of hindsight those few weeks ago I might have thought twice about coming back at all. I’d had no real expectation of rekindling my relationship with Steve, until the moment I’d clapped eyes on him in the churchyard of course, but nothing could have prepared me for the twists and turns we had endured, for all the near misses and not forgetting that one heart-stopping, stomach-twisting kiss under the mistletoe.

  ‘So that’s that, then,’ I said a little while later as I handed Jemma the money belt and Lizzie flicked the café sign to closed and locked the door.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked Angela, her head cocked to one side as she came through from the kitchen with four steaming mugs of tea. ‘You look tired, Ruby.’

  ‘And is it any wonder?’ said Lizzie, draping a comforting arm around my shoulder. ‘This girl has lived through more shock and trauma during the last few days than most people round here face in a lifetime!’

  ‘And she’s managed to keep working through it all,’ added Jemma proudly. ‘Had it been me, I would have crawled under the duvet and never come out again.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve had my moments when I’ve wanted to do exactly that,’ I smiled, ‘believe me.’

  ‘But you do know this whole situation with your dad isn’t for real, don’t you, Ruby?’ Angela insisted.

  ‘Funnily enough, you’re about the hundredth person to say that.’

  ‘Well, it’s just a smokescreen, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘The truth will come out in the end.’

  ‘I hope so,’ I said, warming my hands around the mug Jemma passed me, ‘and I hope it happens before I leave. I can’t bear the thought of going away with this all still hanging in the air. I’m fairly certain Dad has something else to say about the situation but for some reason he’s still holding back.’

  ‘Perhaps he has to wait for the opportune moment,’ said Angela, narrowing her eyes. ‘Perhaps he has to wait to get the nod from the big boss or something.’

  ‘Oh good grief,’ laughed Lizzie, ‘she’s gone all Agatha Christie on us again!’

  ‘Well, he could be,’ said Angela, ‘you never know. Robert Smith could be our very own 007 for all we know!’

  It was a good few seconds before we all stopped laughing. I was sure Dad was holding something back, but he was definitely no Daniel Craig. Leaping out of bed he could manage, but certainly not out of a plane.

  Jemma picked the money belt up off the table and gave it a little shake.

  ‘Do you mind if we settle up later?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course not,’ I nodded, ‘you can leave it until after Christmas if you like, if that’s easier.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ I told her, ‘I’m not planning to buy my plane ticket for a couple of days yet. There are still some details to finalise and I won’t be thinking about them when I’m stuffed with Mum’s delicious turkey and cranberry.’

  ‘Well, as long as you’re sure,’ she said, ‘that would be great. The last thing I feel like doing right now is sorting out the books. I’ve still got Ella’s costume to finish before the service this afternoon. She’s managed to pull the hem down somehow and she looks far from angelic, tripping about all over the place!’

  ‘I’ll bet,’ I laughed.

  ‘Why ever didn’t you get Tom to bring it round earlier?’ scolded Lizzie. ‘I could have had that fixed in seconds when I had the machine out. You’ve more than enough still to sort without worrying about sewing.’

  ‘I didn’t think,’ said Jemma, biting her lip.

  ‘I’ll come home with you and do it by hand,’ insisted Lizzie, ‘then we can all leave together.’

  ‘Thanks, Lizzie,’ said Jemma gratefully. ‘And you’ll come with us, won’t you, Angela?’

  ‘If that’s all right,’ she said. ‘It does seem a bit silly going all the way home just to come practically straight back again.’

  ‘Then you could have supper with us all and Tom could run you back after,’ Jemma suggested. ‘How does that sound?’

  ‘Perfect,’ beamed Angela. ‘Thank you. Are you coming to the crib service, Ruby?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘believe it or not, Chris made Dad promise that we would all go together.’

  I had to laugh as the three ladies looked on, their mouths hanging open in shock.

  ‘I know,’ I said, ‘don’t ask. I’ll tell you all about it one day, but now I’d better go home and get ready. To tell you the truth, I’ve got mixed feelings about going back inside the church. I haven’t set foot inside it since Sean’s funeral.’ I felt a little shiver course through my body as I thought back to that most dreadful of days.

  ‘Well,’ said Jemma as she put the now empty mugs back on the tray, ‘you couldn’t have picked a nicer time to go back.’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ joined in Lizzie, ‘what with tripping angels and Mary dropping Jesus all over the place, the crib service is always excellent value!’

  Chapter 31

  Given how uncomfortable I had been feeling about setting foot back inside St Mary’s church, I was surprised (and somewhat relieved) to discover it wasn’t the traumatic experience I thought it would be. The path down to the porch was lit by strings of clear, white lights and the large arched windows, illuminated by countless candles, threw out a warm and welcoming glow.

  Not dissimilar to the day of Sean’s funeral service, every pew was crammed, but on this occasion the place was a riot of colour, chatter and laughter. The atmosphere was thick with excitement and expectation for the start of the traditional religious celebration.

  I had never been much of a church-goer but it was impossible not to be moved by the sight of the dozen or so children waiting in the wings to play their part. Mary clutched the doll assigned to the role of infant Jes
us to her chest, whispering soothingly into his curly hair, while angels adjusted their itchy tinsel crowns and Ella, slightly taller than the rest and looking decidedly self-conscious, stood a little apart from the unruly group.

  ‘Over here!’ shouted a voice from one of the pews closest to the altar. ‘We’ve saved you a seat!’

  Chris was windmilling wildly and pointing at the empty spaces at his side while Marie pulled at his sleeve, imploring him to pipe down. I didn’t think I could cope with being crammed next to Steve in this church of all places and urged Mum and Dad to take their seats before someone else nabbed them.

  ‘But what about you, Ruby,’ frowned Mum, ‘where are you going to sit?’

  ‘I’ll squeeze in at the back,’ I said, stepping awkwardly aside to avoid blocking the aisle. ‘Bea just messaged to say she’s coming but she still hasn’t found out where Sam has disappeared to. I don’t want her feeling all on her own, especially not tonight, so I’ll stay here.’

  Standing at the back, I could see over the heads of everyone sitting down and I had mixed feelings as I watched Mum and Dad exchanging hugs and handshakes with Chris and Marie as if they were long-lost friends. Why couldn’t they have got themselves sorted out years ago and celebrated my relationship with Steve rather than sabotage it?

  ‘No chance of a seat now, I suppose,’ said a voice next to me. ‘I hadn’t realised how late it was until I heard the bells.’

  I stared down at the little posy of Christmas roses and holly I had quickly put together before leaving home and shook my head in disbelief.

  ‘I thought you were already at the front with your mum and dad,’ I said, my gaze flicking up to the altar and the last-minute alterations to the running order being orchestrated by the vicar.

  ‘I was supposed to be,’ tutted Steve, ‘but I had to go and collect Gwen. She took an age fiddling about over Minnie and checking the cottage door was locked and then when we got here I had a job getting her out of the van. I had to practically give her a fireman’s lift all the way to her seat because she was afraid the path was icy!’