Let It Snow

by Sue Moorcroft

  It was just after lunch on Friday and Lily was at her small workstation, pleasurably knee deep in plans for the Switzerland trip, a big mug of coffee at her elbow and Paramore providing a soundtrack to work to.

  She hadn’t heard from her sister since the argument in the car park of The Three Fishes on Monday. Although Lily hated the way things were over her inconvenient desire to know people with whom she shared DNA she’d made no attempt to communicate. Maybe it was guilt … or maybe it was hurt.

  She made her tone light and neutral. ‘As it happens, I have this evening off.’

  ‘Good!’ Zinnia sounded delighted. ‘You know that new club in Bettsbrough – the Ballarat? I know someone working in promotions who’s offered me tickets to the opening shindig tonight. A crowd on opening night will get pictures on all the online nightlife sites. The club’s super-posh and we probably won’t be able to afford to get in once it gets underway.’

  Lily hesitated. ‘Don’t you want to take George?’

  ‘No, I want to take you,’ Zinnia coaxed. ‘Let’s have a fab sisterly evening. I’m sorry for how I’ve been lately. I promise not to go on about family – any family – for the whole evening. As Bettsbrough’s so near your place, I thought I could stay over,’ she went on. ‘We can have a meal at The Three Fishes and then go on to Ballarat for free cocktails. We’ll take a taxi.’

  ‘Why’s it called the Ballarat?’ Lily played for time, wondering whether Zinnia intended to keep to the letter of her declaration about family or would find a way to work on Lily to leave the village anyway.

  ‘It’s the place in Australia the woman who owns it comes from,’ Zinnia said impatiently. ‘Please say yes, Lily. My treat.’

  She said the last so plaintively that Lily’s heart melted. ‘OK,’ she agreed, opting to take the handsome offer at face value: a chance for them to get back on better terms. ‘It sounds fun.’

  Zinnia whooped gleefully. ‘We’ll get really glammed up. What time shall I get to yours?’

  After they’d made arrangements Lily spent the rest of the afternoon working on the Switzerland trip, planning the minibus road route through England and France, researching the best motels for the overnight stop in each direction, formulating an estimate of costs for Eddie, Warwick and Alfie to discuss with their parents. The Middletones needed to support themselves so far as eating and drinking was concerned and Switzerland wasn’t cheap, even if travel and accommodation expenses were being picked up by British Country Foods. Because Acting Instrumental students were making up part of the contingent, the college was hiring the twelve-seater minibus to them at cost – though the insurance doubled that.

  In just over two weeks they’d be on their way! Lily felt a ball of excitement spin in her stomach as she happily conjured up visions of Christmas markets and processions and snow. Hopefully snow. She looked at the weather app on her phone. Schützenberg was about a thousand metres above sea level but there was no snow yet. In her imagination Swiss winters always meant glorious landscapes of thick, glistening snow looking so much like scenes from advent calendars that the shutters on chalets would pop open to reveal chocolates inside.

  She became so buried in her project that she barely left enough time to shower and had to pause in drying her hair to let Zinnia in when she knocked at the French doors. Wearing a big smile and carrying an overnight bag, Zinnia gave Lily a bear hug. ‘This is great! I’m so glad you agreed to come. Do you want me to finish your hair?’

  As Zinnia was obviously determined to embrace their sisterly love, Lily relaxed and let her wield the hairdryer, lifting her voice over its drone to update her on the Switzerland plans. Then they put on their make-up, making golf-ball eyes into the mirror while applying eyeliner and mascara. They rarely went clubbing together and it took Lily back to when they were teens living at home with Roma and Patsie. She enjoyed the fuzzy feeling it gave her.

  Zinnia unzipped her bag and shook out a fuchsia pink glittery asymmetrical sheath dress, boasting one sleeve and a mid-thigh hemline. ‘Ta dah!’

  ‘Wow. You meant it when you said “glammed up”.’ Lily caught the sleeve and let the sinuous, slightly scratchy material slither through her fingers.

  ‘So what have you got?’ demanded Zinnia, throwing open Lily’s wardrobe without ceremony. ‘How about this? This would look amazing.’

  Seeing that Zinnia was brandishing a short, sequinned topaz-blue number, Lily clutched her heart and laughed. ‘I haven’t worn it since Bar Barcelona party nights. It’s short.’

  ‘Perfect for tonight.’ Zinnia laid the shimmering garment on the bed. ‘It’s a par-tay.’

  As there was nothing else in her wardrobe anywhere near as glam as Zinnia’s slinky pink outfit, Lily thought she may as well give the blue dress a try and let Zinnia zip her into it. It clung to every curve under the heavy, shining sequins. She slipped her feet into black shoes. ‘Erm,’ she said doubtfully, gazing in the mirror at what seemed to be the entire length of her legs on show. She had to admit, though, that the dress was flattering. ‘It feels really, really short.’

  Zinnia emerged from wriggling into her own dress. It wasn’t as short as Lily’s but hugged her like a second skin. ‘You look gorgeous,’ she breathed. ‘You have to wear it. Opening night at a posh club. Get us!’ Before Lily could decide to try another outfit, Zinnia snatched up a tiny cross-body evening bag just big enough for a phone and a couple of credit cards and swung Lily around. ‘Come on, let’s go before they stop serving food at The Three Fishes. Do you think Carola might give us a lift down to the pub to save us staggering about in these heels?’

  Carola took the request as an opportunity to visit the pub herself as she wasn’t seeing Owen that night, and soon the three of them were standing at the bar with glasses of wine. Carola was drawn off into a conversation with Alexia, a woman Lily knew to be connected to the village coffee shop, the Angel Community Café, where Carola worked. Vita and Isaac were serving behind the bar.

  Although she felt pretty conspicuous at being dressed for a club in the work-day surroundings of The Three Fishes, Lily had to take off her coat and sling it over a bar stool or risk cooking in the warm pub interior. Isaac’s eyebrows vanished into his hair and he paused in refilling the ice bucket on the bar. ‘Glad rags tonight,’ he observed.

  Flushing, she explained about the tickets to the new, upscale nightclub and wanting a meal first. ‘If you have any tables,’ she added, glancing into the dining area.

  ‘No prob if you can wait a few minutes. My sister’s joining the staff tonight and she’s out the back doing the formalities with Tina. I’ll get her to clear tables as soon as they come out.’

  ‘Great, thanks.’ Lily sipped her wine, deciding not to offer to clear a table herself as bending over in such a short dress might leave her feeling … vulnerable.

  As Isaac turned away Zinnia edged closer, murmuring, ‘Any progress with His Hotness?’

  ‘Ssh!’ Lily hissed in alarm. But, judging Isaac to have moved out of earshot, murmured back, ‘He’s not here for long.’

  ‘Even better.’ Zinnia grinned into her wine glass and waggled her brows. ‘Little Christmas adventure?’

  Lily gave her sister a playful nudge. ‘Behave.’ She was conscious of her heart giving a flutter but decided it was because she and Zin were having a lovely time together. Joy washed over her. If things improved between them then perhaps she wouldn’t feel the only way to preserve their relationship would be to leave the village after Switzerland. Impulsively, she gave Zinnia a hug. ‘I do love you, Zin.’

  Zinnia returned the hug. ‘I know. I love you too.’

  Neither of them said, ‘I’m sorry,’ or ‘I forgive you,’ but sisters didn’t always have to specify that stuff.

  Flora appeared from the back, recognising Lily with a quick smile but hurrying in Tina’s rolling wake to be shown how to clear a table – not difficult: sanitise, tidy the condiments then reset it with cutlery rolled in black napkins from the dumbwaiter and wine g
lasses from behind the bar.

  Lots of locals were in tonight, a crowd of men frequently referred to as ‘the blokey blokes’ grouped around the dartboard, pints in one hand while they threw darts with the other, barracking each other and dissolving into gales of laughter. Vita and Isaac were kept busy behind the bar as Tina showed Flora the ropes.

  Lily and Zinnia fell to chatting to those around them and, apart from feeling ludicrously overdressed, Lily thought she wouldn’t be too unhappy if Zinnia forgot all about going on to the Ballarat. The Christmas lights reflected and refracted from every polished surface and they were surrounded by smiling faces.

  A woman, entering via the front door, paused to take in the friendly, crowded, noisy scene. Lily froze, her glass of wine almost to her lips. It was Hayley, elegance personified in a narrow black dress with a stand-up collar beneath her open coat, which Lily felt pretty sure she recognised as Karen Millen, though she never shopped there herself unless in a seventy-per-cent-off sale. Her own shimmering sequins felt as garish as a Christmas tree. She watched Hayley thread her way to the bar.

  ‘Hello, Isaac.’ Hayley raised her voice over the hubbub.

  Isaac’s head lifted, though his hands continued to splash tonic into a tumbler containing ice, lime and gin before grabbing a fresh glass and pulling a bottle of chardonnay from the ice bucket behind him. ‘Hello,’ he replied neutrally, then, to the customer he placed the two drinks before: ‘That’ll be £8.90, please.’ He took a tenner and turned to the till.

  Tina smiled at Hayley. ‘Can I help you?’

  Hayley smiled back but said, ‘I’ll wait for Isaac.’

  Tina nodded and moved on to serve someone else.

  When he turned away from giving his customer change, Isaac’s face was impassive as he moved towards Hayley. ‘What can I get you?’

  ‘If we could have a word—’ she began.

  Isaac leaned over the bar so that his head was close to hers but, as she was leaning on the bar herself, Lily was near enough to hear. ‘I can serve you with a drink but I’m too busy to chat.’

  Hayley’s smile didn’t waver. ‘I understand. I’ll have Fever-Tree tonic with ice and lime and wait until you have a moment.’

  Isaac nodded but Lily could see from the look in his dark eyes that he wasn’t happy. He served Hayley briskly and took her money, handing her her change and moving on to someone else.

  Hayley turned away from the bar and her gaze fell on Lily. Not sure whether to feel complimented or insulted at the way Hayley’s brows flew up as her gaze fell on the sequinned dress, Lily said hesitantly, ‘Hello again.’

  ‘Well, hello. Don’t you look glamorous!’ Hayley replied.

  Lily no longer felt glamorous. She felt conspicuously shiny. ‘It’s the opening of the Ballarat in Bettsbrough tonight.’

  ‘And you got tickets? How clever of you.’ Hayley smiled a perfectly lipsticked smile.

  Lily wasn’t sure if it was genuine or condescending but introduced Zinnia as the ticket procurer.

  Flora bustled through the counter flap, took down four wine glasses and turned, skidding to a halt as she came face to face with Hayley, gazing at her with frank amazement. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

  Hayley smiled. ‘I should say the same to you. Are you working here? How nice—’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Flora, clicking back into motion. ‘Busy night. Lily, your table’s ready if you’d like to go over. I’ll bring the menus.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Lily picked up her coat, glad her conversation with Hayley had been interrupted. The older woman was so … well, just so. Groomed. Sophisticated. Polished. Assured. Lily didn’t feel any of those things.

  But then Zinnia’s phone began to ring and she fished for it in her evening bag to read the screen. ‘It’s George.’

  As she stayed where she was to take the call from her boyfriend, Lily picked up Zinnia’s coat too, intending to take both to the table when Zinnia let out a piercing squawk of dismay. ‘Oh, no! How? Are you OK? Oh, no, I can’t believe it.’

  Lily halted, alarmed.

  Without interrupting her conversation, Zinnia pulled her coat from Lily’s arms and began to wriggle into it. ‘Of course I’m coming home! I’ll be there as soon as I’ve picked up my car from Lily’s.’ Ending the call with her eyes full of tears, Zinnia fumbled the rest of the way into her coat. ‘That was George. We’ve had a kitchen fire! The fire brigade’s there and everything. It’s an absolute mess, apparently.’

  ‘That’s awful!’ Lily gasped. ‘Is George OK?’

  ‘Fine, but, oh, Lily, our lovely new kitchen! We haven’t even paid a year off the loan yet. I’ve got to go. I can’t go clubbing and leave him with it.’ She sloshed what was left of her wine into Lily’s glass.

  ‘Should I come? Can I help?’ But Lily was already talking to Zinnia’s back as she hurled herself through the crowd, waving distractedly behind her.

  With a feeling of anticlimax Lily explained the situation to Flora as she ferried crockery around. ‘So I won’t take up a dining table. I can have my fish and chips here in the bar.’ People were drifting into the dining area now tables were clear and the bar wasn’t quite so busy. She told Flora how to put the order through on the till and, giving Hayley a parting smile, slid into one of the vacant seats at a small table in the middle of the bar. She was startled when Hayley slid into the other chair.

  ‘I might as well wait for Isaac in comfort.’ Hayley smiled. ‘How has he been? I expect he’s settled in well here.’

  ‘Fine,’ returned Lily, wishing her meal would come.

  Hayley hesitated, seemingly choosing her words. ‘Is he on a nice even keel? I expect he told you that we quite recently split up.’

  Really not wanting to be part of a conversation about her boss, and wondering whether Hayley was hoping to be told Isaac was pining for her, Lily took a swig from her wine. ‘Isaac seems absolutely fine whenever we’re together. I wouldn’t worry.’ She realised that made it sound as if she was friendlier with Isaac than was the case but Hayley taking aside a member of Isaac’s staff for information made her skin itch.

  Then Flora, who’d chosen that moment to arrive with fish and chips, cutlery and condiments on a tray said with a mischievous twinkle, ‘Isaac’s doing great. He missed Doggo, of course … but now he’s got him back.’

  ‘Of course.’ Hayley gave an uncomfortable smile.

  Isaac’s first shock of the evening had been the sight of Lily and her sister shucking off their coats to demonstrate that on the scale of dressing up to the nines they’d achieved ten. The dark-haired sister was attractive in shocking pink but Lily was sexy as hell in a dress that looked to be made entirely of ice-blue sequins. Isaac’s heart misstepped as he noted what it did for her curves and shapely legs. He was usually drawn to dark-haired women like Hayley but Lily smiled and glowed like the sun glinting off frost. It was the first time he’d seen her blonde hair down and it was just long enough to fall to her breasts, curving around them almost like a pair of hands …

  Impatiently, he told himself to stop thinking with that part of his body and concentrate on his work. The bar was crowded enough to keep the staff on their toes and it was Flora’s first night. He’d purposely left her in Tina’s hands to demonstrate to other team members that being sister to the relief manager at The Three Fishes wouldn’t get her special treatment.

  The second shock of the evening had been when he heard Hayley speak his name. Irritation prickling through him, he’d wanted to say, ‘What are you doing here again?’ Instead, he’d made her wait until he wasn’t as busy which, in his estimation, might be a while.

  When he spotted her talking to Lily an hour or so later he felt uncomfortable, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was Lily’s wary expression and stiffly folded arms.

  Tina was serving at the same time as keeping an eye on Flora so once Lily had been served her food Isaac slipped over to their table and touched Hayley’s arm. ‘Would you like to follow me?’ He picked
up her drink and led her to a small table in the corner of the dining area. He didn’t get a drink for himself or give any indication that this was a social event.

  Gracefully, Hayley sank into the chair opposite him and smiled. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Busy,’ he replied economically. ‘What can I do for you?’

  Her smile widened. ‘I’d hoped to see Doggo.’

  Isaac was swamped by a wave of anger. Leaning his arms on the wooden table, he dropped his voice so Hayley had to crane close in order to hear. ‘Surely you don’t think you can just turn up out of the blue and I’ll stop work to take you up to my accommodation to make nice with Doggo?’

  The smile became fixed. ‘It was … an impulse.’

  ‘But uncharacteristic of you to not only spend another of your evenings off to come here but to expect me to stop work. Is something else motivating your actions?’

  The smile vanished and her chin lifted. ‘Like what?’ There was a hint of injury in her tone.

  People who didn’t know how to read her might let that hint of injury make them doubt their instincts. But not him. ‘I think what brings you here is me.’ He held up a hand as she tried to interrupt. ‘No, I don’t mean that I suspect you of wanting to reverse the break-up. I’m sure you’re entirely comfortable with your decision to move on with your life. I think it’s what I represent – failure.’

  Hayley frowned, obviously wrong-footed but, rather than rush into a slew of questions, she propped her chin in her hand and waited.

  ‘That I cut my losses at the Juno was, to you, a failure. But it led you to fail too,’ he expanded. Ignoring the shocked widening of her eyes he pressed on in his softly spoken assault. ‘You’ve realised you failed me when I sailed into trouble – the rat to my sinking ship. When you kindly recommended me when Mr Tubb was looking for somebody it was out of a need to reassure yourself that you’re a good person. And now you’re circling back to see how I’m doing in that job to fulfil a need to square your conscience. You think that you’ve rehomed me, like Doggo.’