Let It Snow

by Sue Moorcroft

  Isaac stood rooted to the spot. Realising that Zinnia was still gazing at him with an expression torn between ‘Oh, shit!’ and laughter he decided to take control of the situation. And by that he meant … totally pretend he hadn’t heard.

  ‘Evening, ladies,’ he said genially, strolling onto the car park on a trajectory aimed at the side door.

  ‘Evening,’ Zinnia echoed in a strangled voice. And then as she caught sight of Lily turning and trudging away her voice rose uncertainly. ‘Hey, are we really not having dinner, Lily? I honestly didn’t mean to …’ Her voice tailed off as Lily shook her head and kept moving, heading towards the side of the building, probably to walk past it to Main Road.

  It would have been less awkward if Isaac could have used the back door but with Doggo in tow that really wasn’t possible because it would have taken them across the route where food was carried to the dining area and bar. He could have stopped to check his phone to give her a chance to make her escape, but Doggo was straining on his leash. Isaac tried to keep his steps slow so he wouldn’t overtake her as, behind him, he heard Zinnia sigh, ‘Oh, Lileeee,’ before there came the sound of a car door opening and then slamming shut.

  Lily’s steps faltered, her head drooping. Isaac thought he heard her sniff. Then she swung around, taking a hasty step as if she meant to stop Zinnia driving off. Shock flashed across her face as she found Isaac immediately behind her.

  In the light from the headlights that came on as Zinnia’s car started up he could see tears glittering on her cheeks like ice crystals. Isaac stared down at her. The car headlights swept across them and then Zinnia’s car drove on.

  For several moments the wind buffeted, threading icy air into collars and up sleeves. Isaac’s hair blew into his face and he felt the first sting of rain. Then it came faster, heavier, hitting his scalp like pellets. Lily groaned, ‘Oh, great!’

  Isaac reached into his pocket for his key and heard himself say calmly, ‘It’s going to pour down. I’m going in for a hot drink. Fancy one?’

  He threw open the door on a gust of wind as the sky broke and all the rain it held fell out.

  As Isaac moved forward an eager Doggo did the same. Unfortunately, as he was on the other side of Lily, the taut lead caught painfully across the backs of her legs. Wrong-footed – literally – she stumbled over the threshold behind Isaac. Part of her wanted to turn tail for home but the rain and gusting wind tried to get in behind her and, reflexively, she closed the door. ‘Um, thanks,’ she muttered.

  ‘No prob.’ Isaac strode upstairs behind Doggo as if assuming she’d accepted his invitation to join him in a hot drink and would follow. As her other options were to stand alone at the foot of the stairs or brave the monsoon hammering down outside, reluctantly she did so. When she gained the landing Doggo was rolling and wriggling on the carpet to dry himself. ‘No, Doggo!’ Isaac’s voice floated from an open doorway and Lily and Doggo both followed it.

  She’d been up to Tubb and Janice’s flat and knew the kitchen. A pine table stood in the centre and she hung her coat on the back of one of the chairs, trying not to meet Isaac’s gaze as she sat down.

  He fed Doggo, then filled the kettle as rain hit the window like handfuls of gravel. ‘Sounds like quite a squall,’ Isaac commented, glancing at the dark glass and taking down two mugs. One bore the picture of a Dalmatian and the words Kind, intelligent and batshit crazy.

  Lily cleared her throat. ‘The radio said it might turn to hail or sleet. We’re heading into a cold snap.’

  ‘Oh?’ He fished a carton of milk from the fridge. He seemed no keener to meet her gaze than she was his.

  Crap. That almost guaranteed he’d overheard. She sighed and decided to get the embarrassment over with just in case he’d invited her up here on the assumption she’d be an easy conquest – though he hadn’t struck her as the sort. ‘Sorry you were treated to a sisterly spat. Contrary to what you might have observed so far, Zin and I do love each other. Luckily, she’s funny and warm as well as opinionated. Did you hear much of what she said?’ She tried to sound nonchalant but her cheeks were burning.

  He turned to the kettle as if he needed to check he’d turned it on, although it was already making growling noises. ‘Not all of it,’ he answered vaguely. ‘Maybe I automatically switch off when it comes to sisters. You met mine, yesterday – Flora. Always on my case about something.’

  Diverted, she regarded him with interest. ‘She’s your sister? She seemed nice.’

  ‘As sisters go.’ But he smiled as he finished making the coffee and carried the mugs to the table. Lily took hers with thanks. He’d given her the Dalmatian mug.

  A ting! hit the air and Isaac pulled out his phone. He hesitated and frowned at the screen.

  ‘Do you need to answer?’ Lily asked politely. ‘Or I can leave if you need to make a call.’

  ‘It’s voicemail.’ He tapped a couple of times, listened, then slid the handset onto the table. ‘The call came in when I was in a no-signal area hiking around the fens. My accountant. It’s after office hours now so no point calling till tomorrow.’ He rubbed his temples as if the mere idea of it made his head ache. ‘Giving up the lease at Juno Lounge and winding up the business produced a lot of paperwork and process.’

  ‘Oh.’ She added milk to her coffee. ‘I hadn’t realised you were a leaseholder. I’d assumed you were just the manager.’

  His jaw tightened. ‘It was my business so it affected me pretty badly when it went belly-up. It was nothing I did wrong but it hurts.’

  ‘I’m sure.’ She wrinkled her forehead, trying to bring to mind what had happened to Juno Lounge, the kind of place that once had been very much part of the scenery. ‘I suppose it was affected by the closure to the parkway, was it?’

  He nodded. ‘A bridge was suddenly found to be failing dangerously and that was it. Road closed. It cut the lifeblood to the Juno. There was a back lane access but it was small and out of the way. With the parkway closed large, jolly “Open as usual!” signs had no effect. People found other places to go and in no time I was in the crap.’ He paused to sip his coffee.

  ‘Can’t you insure against interruption to business?’ she asked sympathetically. No wonder he always had shadows in his eyes.

  ‘You can.’ He nodded. ‘But it only applies to specific circumstances and a bridge that had gradually deteriorated wasn’t an “insured peril”. Two bridges further up were found to need work too, which proved the death blow. The brewery bought me out of the lease, in the circumstances, but it wasn’t a generous offer. They’re more able to afford to sit out the months while the bridges are repaired than I am but they must still be losing money, as I closed up in July. They expect to reopen in March but by then I’ll be on my way. I’m sick of the hospitality business.’

  She gave a quiet snort of laughter. ‘I keep saying the same. Then I end up working in a bar.’

  ‘Well, I won’t,’ he said positively, dark eyes flashing. ‘I’m working here because I need to do something while I tie up the loose ends.’ Then he became more cheerful as he told her about the outdoorsy instructor courses he was to take, calling up a website on his phone to show her pictures of people in backpacks and helmets. While he waxed enthusiastic, Lily found herself relaxing, listening to him talk about hill walking and kayaking rather than what he might have overheard.

  Until he moved the conversation on. ‘So you have a brother as well as a sister? Does he live locally?’

  Lily half-dropped her mug, splashing the dregs of her coffee down her jeans. ‘Sorry!’ she gasped. She used her sleeve to mop the splashes from the table. Doggo trotted over and licked up the splashes on the floor. ‘What do you mean?’

  He was staring at her warily. ‘Um … I thought I heard your sister mention a brother. Sorry if I got it wrong.’

  She polished at the table some more with her now damp sleeve. She’d almost prefer he’d heard the bit about asking out the hot boss rather than this. ‘You didn’t get it wrong,’ she
admitted reluctantly. ‘I have two half-brothers. Do you—’ She regarded him anxiously. ‘Do you mind not mentioning them in the village though?’ Her tummy turned over at the thought.

  ‘If that’s what you want,’ he replied uncertainly. Rain or hail flung itself at the window anew, making Doggo growl. Now still didn’t seem like a good time for Lily to leave but she began to wish she hadn’t allowed herself to be ushered up here for coffee. She should have run into the pub and sheltered for a bit … though she wouldn’t have wanted Zinnia to follow her in there and run her mouth off.

  A sigh rasped through her like physical pain. Now she’d made such a dramatic appeal, she’d have to explain it so that he understood how vitally important silence was. ‘Thanks,’ she said quietly. ‘As the relief manager, I think it’s probably best if you have some insight into the story. Zinnia’s getting agitated and uncontrolled. She’s badgering me here at work, as you’ve seen. My family’s non-conventional, as I told you.’

  ‘Because you have two mums.’ He nodded.

  ‘Exactly.’ She paused to gather her thoughts, gazing at the table top. This wasn’t a subject she discussed much outside of her family. ‘The trouble is that Zin was conceived by artificial insemination and the anonymous donor gave—’ her cheeks burned ‘—what he gave knowing what he was doing. But my mum, she had an affair and I was conceived. It was only when she ended the relationship that she understood how badly she’d used him. He’d fallen in love with her – he was older and maybe she’d thought he was past all that – and he was gutted. She never told him about me because she saw how unforgivably she’d messed with his life. He had a wife and two sons who were sixteen and twenty-one at the time.’

  Isaac was silent, his gaze sympathetic.

  She tried to laugh but it emerged brittle and hard. ‘Zin and I are only three months apart. It caused remarks all through school. Though we consider ourselves sisters others considered us stepsisters as we have no blood tie and different surnames. Thing is, there’s no manual on how to be a child from a same-sex relationship. I feel I’ve missed out on half of my family but Zinnia’s the opposite and says she’s got two amazing women as parents and has no need to know her sperm donor.’

  For several moments she fell silent. The rain continued to pound and Doggo yawned and stretched out against the radiator. ‘Mum let me think my father was a one-night stand,’ she continued eventually. ‘Then I caught her crying over his obituary and in the emotion of the moment, she told me.’ She shook her head. ‘I felt gutted, cheated, and the only way I could think of making it up to myself was to try and find my half-brothers. It was a compulsion.’

  Her eyes prickled and she realised it was a relief to be able to talk about it with someone other than her family. ‘I found my eldest brother straight away via the internet. I know where the other one is but I haven’t met him, his wife or two kids.’

  Isaac had apparently become too invested in the story to listen in silence any longer. ‘What did the one you’ve met say to finding out he had a half-sister?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she admitted frankly, feeling the familiar snake of worry. She had to pause to swallow. ‘Because of something very specific I heard him say I know that if I tell him he could refuse to have anything to do with me. So I’m not brave enough to try.’

  She propped her head on her palm. ‘It’s a mess. My parents are worried. Zinnia’s got all pugnacious, scared of having to share me. She can’t stand not knowing. She wants me to choose her, I suppose, as if it were a competition. It’s like a new, prickly Zin has turned up in my life and I’m feeling pressure to leave the village but not until—’ she hesitated ‘—until I’ve met the other brother. I’m resentful that Zin’s being difficult but also feeling guilty because I’m scaring her. And my mums too,’ she added fairly.

  ‘Wow,’ he said.

  She glanced at him. ‘So I hope you see why it’s important that you don’t mention my brothers to anyone. I think whether they ever learn who I am is up to me.’

  To her relief, Isaac nodded understandingly. ‘Of course.’

  Chapter Six

  Tuesday morning. Bleurgh. Isaac was making notes to help his accountant sort out the Juno’s VAT and tax situation. When his phone sounded an alert he stopped to read a text from assistant manager Tina.

  Vita should be on with Andy and me tonight but she has a tummy bug. Baz has plans and Lorna can’t get childcare so have asked Lily to come in and Vita will take Lily’s shift on Friday.

  Isaac returned, Thanks for letting me know and for sorting it out. Andy, in his late fifties, had taken early retirement from whatever his job had been and worked part-time in the pub. Well … worked? He certainly enjoyed being behind the bar, but leaning on it, talking to the punters – all while getting paid. When Isaac had gently challenged him on it the first time they were on shift together he just laughed. ‘All learned from our glorious leader!’

  Prickled, Isaac had raised eyebrows. ‘If you’re referring to Mr Tubb, he’s entitled.’ As the subtext was plainly ‘And you’re not’, Andy had taken a huff and had since only accepted shifts on Isaac’s days off.

  He looked forward to seeing Andy’s face when he discovered tonight that Isaac and his family would be eating at the pub. His parents hadn’t seen The Three Fishes yet. His mum had never been completely on board with his relationship with Hayley because of the age gap yet had reacted with exasperation rather than sympathy when the end had come. Exasperation was probably his mum’s normal state. His dad suffered from ME and Isaac supposed that she hadn’t expected to greet her sixtieth birthday having been his carer for a decade and living on benefits.

  He hoped Lily wouldn’t mind working with lazybones Andy. What a troubled story she’d told him last night. For the weeks he’d known her a sunny smile had been her default expression but last night worry had puckered her forehead and drawn down the corners of her mouth. It had tugged at Isaac’s heart.

  He turned back to his notes, trying to pull together everything the accountant needed. Apart from the accountant’s bill, HMRC was his final creditor. As soon as the ‘closed’ notices had gone up at the Juno he’d satisfied his payroll and other creditors and sold fixtures and inventory so he had a reasonable idea of what he was worth, which was a whole hell of a lot less than he used to be worth, but he was not sure where he was emotionally. That was harder to determine.

  When Flora phoned Isaac at six thirty in the evening his paperwork had prevented him managing the trip into Derbyshire he’d hoped for, but at least he’d managed to walk the circuit of the bridleways around the village twice, which totalled over six miles according to his app.

  ‘Hey!’ Flora breezed. ‘We’re in the pub car park.’

  ‘On my way down,’ he responded. ‘Has Dad got his chair?’

  ‘No, he’s having a good day and says he’s OK on his stick.’

  Isaac pulled on his jacket and, closing the door to his rooms behind him, ran downstairs and out of the back door. Spotting Flora waiting beside her aged Ford Mondeo in the car park lights, he gave her a quick hug.

  She hugged him back. ‘If you can help Dad, I’ll bring Jeremy and Jasmine.’

  ‘Yep, great,’ he agreed.

  But his mother, Stef, was first out of the car. ‘Evening, Isaac,’ she said, pulling her coat close around herself and shivering. ‘Blimey, it’s parky. Nothing to stop the wind, out here in the sticks.’

  ‘True.’ He gave her a hug, glad to see her even if he knew this was probably the first of many complaints he’d hear this evening, then went around to the other side of the car in time to help his dad to his feet. ‘Hi, Dad. How are you doing?’

  ‘Much as usual, thanks,’ puffed his dad. Unfortunately, ‘usual’ for Ray O’Brien was weak and exhausted since ME had ravaged his body and made him prone to infections and depression. But he gave Isaac a smile and told him it was good to see him as he leaned on his arm for the short walk to the pub’s front door.

  Flora’s kids
, four-year-old Jasmine and six-year-old Jeremy, were leaping from the car, trying to evade Flora’s guiding hands, shouting, ‘Uncle Isaac, we’re going to eat dinner at your pub!’ And, ‘Have you got burgers?’

  Isaac grinned at their excited faces haloed with brown curls. ‘We might have burgers for good children. Not sure about you though,’ he added.

  ‘We’re good!’ they chorused. Jeremy usually fitted that description but Jasmine greeted mischief with open arms whenever she met it. Isaac had missed them after he’d left Flora’s for The Three Fishes.

  He led the party into the warmth, exchanging greetings with regulars such as Lily’s friend and landlady Carola with her boyfriend. Lily and Andy were working behind the bar. Lily smiled while Andy pretended he was too busy serving to have noticed Isaac coming in.

  Ray looked pinched by the time he released Isaac’s arm and dropped down into his seat in the dining area. ‘I’ll keep my coat on till I just warm up. Lovely in here, boy, isn’t it?’ He gazed around at the tinsel on the beams and baubles fixed to the old stone walls.

  ‘It’s a nice change.’ Isaac hooked his own jacket around a chair, making sure he got one that gave him a view of Andy, now leaning on the bar and chatting while Lily pulled pints. Andy realised he was being watched, straightened up and moved slowly in the direction of a waiting customer, still talking.

  Isaac’s mum took the seat between Isaac and Ray, leaving Flora and the children to sit together on the other side of the table. ‘I cannot comprehend why you gave up Juno Lounge for this little place,’ she said, proving the visit to rural life hadn’t softened her up much. ‘Were you just in a mood because of Hayley?’

  ‘The relationship with Hayley ended afterwards,’ Isaac pointed out. He’d made it sound like he had a choice about letting the Juno go so as not to worry his parents. Better his mum make a few caustic ‘cannot comprehend’ remarks than worry about him losing a heap of money.

  ‘Still, it’s nice that folk talk to you when you come in,’ she said, as if realising she’d been unnecessarily negative.