Let It Snow

by Sue Moorcroft

  Carola moved closer to Gabe, patting the space she’d made between her and Lily. ‘Sit down and get the benefit of the fire, Isaac.’

  After a hesitation, Isaac smiled. ‘Thanks.’ He sat down, his wide shoulders filling the space, his arm touching Lily’s. She lifted her wine glass to him. ‘Thanks for the drink.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  She lowered her voice, which had the effect of making him dip his head close to hers in order to hear. It hadn’t been premeditated on her part but she found herself enjoying his proximity and the whiff of shaving gel. ‘Was it a smooth move on your part to get the Middletones down here to fill up your bar? Or were you just hit with the urge to buy a large round of drinks?’

  He laughed under his breath. ‘Neither. I’d talked to Mr Tubb about reinvigorating our social media channels and I was looking around Facebook when I saw Carola had posted a pic of you guys. I invited you on impulse. But it’s true I’ve noticed people go home early on winter’s evenings sometimes and your singing made them stick around.’

  ‘But,’ she said, watching Doggo shove his head onto his master’s thigh and Isaac lifting his large hand to fondle the dog’s ears, ‘you’ve no need to implement initiatives, have you? You’re just minding the place for Tubb while he’s off sick.’

  When he shook his head his hair slipped over his forehead. ‘I just like to do the best job I can – within the bounds of this being someone else’s pub. It took me a while to appreciate the charm of The Three Fishes but it’s growing on me. I like living in the country.’ He went on, telling her about his childhood when his dad had worked on a farm and he and Flora had had a lot of freedom.

  As she listened, sipping her wine, she envisioned him as a boy, climbing trees and lending a hand on the farm. Doggo moved over to hook a big paw over her knee. As he’d obviously intended, she took over the ear fondling, letting the silky fur pass through her fingers. It was nice to be this side of the bar, relaxing, she thought. Cosy. She could admire her handiwork with the lights around the bar a jumble of glowing colours above the bijou Christmas trees.

  ‘Of course, Dad was well then,’ Isaac sighed. ‘Before bloody ME got its horrible claws into him.’

  ‘Poor guy,’ she sympathised. She thought about the evening his parents had come to The Three Fishes and the gaunt, pale man who’d leaned heavily on a stick. ‘By the way, sorry I was eavesdropping but I heard you saying to your family that you might be here for Christmas Day. Do you realise there’s a lunch and that Chef doesn’t work on Christmas Day?’

  His eyebrows lifted. ‘So Nate runs the kitchen?’ Nate was the second chef.

  She laughed. ‘None of the kitchen staff come in. Tubb cooks it all himself. It’s his foible. Apparently he knows what it’s like to have nowhere to go and no one to be with on Christmas Day so he opens the pub. There’s just the one menu for the Christmas Day lunch – two if you count the veggie option. Last year, Janice did desserts but otherwise it’s down to him.’

  ‘Fucksake,’ he murmured under his breath, frowning blackly. ‘I hope everyone wants salad. There are about fourteen people booked.’

  A laugh shook through her. ‘Oh, dear. But fourteen’s not too bad, not when you’re serving more or less the same thing to everybody and you have a catering kitchen. My parents have often given dinner parties that size. And besides, the kitchen staff do a lot of prep for the Christmas lunch before they leave on Christmas Eve.’

  ‘So you could do it?’ Isaac asked in a hopeful-but-not-optimistic way.

  Lily put up her hands to halt him there. ‘I’m expected at Mum and Patsie’s for Christmas lunch. Otherwise I would at least take Janice’s role and do the desserts.’

  Further up the table Gabe was trying to get the singing going again, teaching them all his own words, singing, fairly melodiously, ‘We wish you a merry Christmas and a sausage on a string. We hope it will choke you for making us sing.’ A wave of laughter greeted his ditty and people began to join in, putting great whooshes of emphasis on ‘We WISH you a merry CHRIStmas’ and trying to come up with silly words to trump Gabe’s.

  Beneath the noise Isaac said with mock solemnity, ‘I wonder if I can get your mums to disinvite you? Tell them I want you?’

  When he smiled something twirled inside her. Was it because he’d said he wanted her? He’d said it in innocent enough context but his gaze was … well, she was pretty sure it was interested. And what Zinnia had said about a little Christmas adventure flashed into her mind. She’d only slept with one man since calling it quits with Sergio and it had been too soon, a brief rebound affair, a rite of passage as a single-again woman. She was thirty-six, for goodness’ sake. Forty was only a few years away and wasn’t that when everything from skin elasticity to eyesight began to suffer? She shouldn’t let life pass her by. And sex was part of life wasn’t it? She was acutely aware of the warmth of his arm and his thigh brushing hers.

  Playfully, she narrowed her eyes at Isaac. ‘Patsie does the most incredible side dishes like sweet potato and cream cheese with cashew nuts. It’s a meal not to be missed and don’t even think about getting me disinvited … no matter how much you want me.’ She added the rider experimentally and saw something flare in his eyes, giving her reason to believe he hadn’t missed the way she’d batted the ‘want’ word back at him.

  ‘Shame I can’t tempt you.’ His eyes smiled and there was an instant of hesitation, of connection, before he rose, returning to his usual, workaday self. ‘Then I’ll have to get Chef to talk me through how to manage on my own. C’mon, Doggo. The kitchen’s shut now so you can come in the back with me until closing.’ He said his goodnights and left Lily staring after him, thinking that he definitely could tempt her. In fact, she wished he would.

  The next morning was icy cold when Isaac took Doggo out. Huge purple clouds piled up in the sky and the wind whipped the branches of the trees and made Isaac’s face sting. He pulled down his beanie hat and tugged up his coat collar.

  Doggo raced around with his ears back as if iron cold was his favourite thing, his breath a small white cloud around his snout. He looked at Isaac, eyes shining and tail beating as if to say, ‘Isn’t this great?’ Sometimes he raced back and pranced around Isaac’s feet, then arrowed off again to sniff and snort at the scents lurking in the nettles that edged the path.

  Isaac soon covered a couple of miles across the playing fields and down the bridleway at the edge of the Carlysle Estate, vaulting a stile and following the path into the woods around a small lake. The path crossed Little Lane then ran by the stream that fed the lake and over a fallen tree used as a bridge. Soon he was heading towards the ford that stood across the road and down the bank from The Three Fishes. His original plan had been to continue on the footpath around the top end of the village, the newer part, and back into the Carlysle Estate via the home farm to emerge again in Port Road near the playing fields. However, he’d kept an eye firmly on the sky, which had become increasingly dark. The ford would allow him to cut short his walk and head back to the pub, avoiding whatever was brewing in those purple clouds.

  As he strode, his mind wandered to Lily. He was building up quite a store of mental images of her. Most prominent was how she’d looked in that short, tight, shiny blue dress a few evenings ago, her blonde hair hanging loose, but even in her pub uniform of black polo shirt and trousers, designed to be effacing, he was aware of her. Last night she’d looked different again in blue jeans that clung and a lilac jumper bearing a picture of a white kitten in a snow globe. He found himself smiling as he remembered her teasing him, flirting, daring him to react. No matter how much you want me. Lying sleepless in bed a couple of hours later he’d wanted her so much his quilt had been in danger of combusting.

  Like a saddo, he’d even viewed the video of the choir he’d taken to watch the way Lily’s lips moved.

  Then suddenly he had a brand-new image of her because there she was as he rounded a curve in the path, standing by the ford and wearing a navy coat em
broidered with flowers and a turquoise scarf that fluttered in the wind. She was watching the thunderclouds boiling across the sky. Her hair was pulled into a ball atop her head and tendrils flew around her face. He wanted to take out his phone and take a picture to capture her intensity. Girl and sky.

  Before he could do anything so stupid Doggo gave a bark and plunged into a gallop, tail beating as he recognised a chum.

  Lily turned. ‘Hello, Doggo,’ floated back to Isaac on a gust of wind.

  Doggo treated her to his happy dance before racing back to Isaac as if to say, ‘Look who I found!’ Lily watched Isaac approach with a smile.

  ‘It’s wild this morning.’ He watched the wind trying to blow her hood up onto her head.

  She shoved it back, her eyes sparkling. ‘It’s crazy. I was going to go for a walk but the sky looks ominous.’

  ‘Not working?’ Isaac stuffed his hands in his pockets, Doggo’s lead jangling from his wrist.

  ‘Day off.’ A smile lit her face. ‘I’ve pressed the button on everything I need to do with my designer’s hat on for Switzerland – the Food, Lifestyle & Health show and the Christmas market. I’m thinking about either calling in at the Angel café or calling one of my old friends in Peterborough to make good on one of those vague social media exchanges about meeting up.’ She grinned. ‘You’re looking pretty off duty yourself.’

  He rubbed his stubble. ‘It’s good to have a couple of down hours before I start on my working day.’

  A gust of wind pushed her an involuntary step towards him. ‘Whoo! I think I’d better go back.’ Barely were the words out of her mouth when thunder rumbled overhead. Doggo’s tail ceased to wag and he curled it between his legs instead. Lily sent an apprehensive look skywards. ‘Make that I definitely need to go back.’ Then she jumped as a hailstone bounced from the top of her head. ‘Ow!’

  She hastily dragged up her hood as, with a great clap of thunder, more hail flew on the wind, plopping in the stream beside where they stood. White balls bounced from the ground and from poor Doggo, who hunched his spine and rolled his eyes, scrabbling at Isaac’s legs as if trying to scale them. Isaac gazed around at white missiles bouncing from the ground and from their coats. ‘Hailstones? They’re huge.’ As they came under still heavier bombardment twigs began to snap from trees that bowed before the howling wind, creating an astonishing level of noise.

  Isaac grabbed Doggo’s harness and clipped on the lead. ‘Come on, let’s make a run for the pub.’

  ‘You’re always sheltering me from inhospitable weather.’ But Lily picked her way across the ford and scrambled up through the moving curtain to the road, squeaking and trying to hold her hood to shield her face from the vicious white onslaught. Isaac grabbed her free hand as she slithered on the marble-like chunks of ice that drummed on the road. Ice stung their faces and slid into the collar of Isaac’s coat. Doggo whined, too upset and worried to even growl back at the ever-louder thunder, skittering between them as they ran, in danger of sending them flying.

  It looked as if someone had covered the tarmac of the car park with white marbles when they rounded the corner and Isaac let go of Lily’s hand to fumble with the door key, hampered by Doggo trying to shelter between the door and his master’s legs. Turning her back on the driving hail, Lily crouched to pull Doggo into her embrace. Shielded, he immediately calmed, though his tail tip quivered as if to signal ‘I don’t know what’s going on but I don’t like it!’

  When Isaac flung open the door Doggo launched himself into warmth and safety, almost knocking Lily onto her back. Possessed of slightly better manners, Isaac helped her inside and slammed the door. The hail clattered against the wood as if angry at being cheated but at last they were safe from its spite.

  ‘Phew, that was Siberian.’ She wiped her damp pink face with her hands. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ He pulled off his hat and, turning it inside out, used it to dry his face. It was too early for anyone else to be at the pub. Even Franciszka wouldn’t be in to vacuum carpets and clean the loos for another hour.

  Doggo, restored to his usual ebullient self now the attack of the hailstones had stopped, raced ahead and was already rolling on the landing carpet when Isaac got there. ‘Stop it!’ he commanded. Then, to Lily: ‘Would you like to go into the kitchen? I’ll get his towel.’ He let himself into his own room while Lily crossed the landing, chatting to the dog. When Isaac caught up with them, she’d hung her coat on the back of a chair. Isaac grabbed Doggo and briskly rubbed his black-and-white coat. Doggo tried to play tug o’ war with the towel, growling with a ferocity belied by the furious wagging of his tail.

  ‘Has he settled down in the village?’ Lily asked, leaning on the table, laughing when Isaac used the towel to tow Doggo around the kitchen floor.

  ‘Apparently. I sprint up regularly to take him to the dog loo and maybe throw the ball for him. With that and long walks, he’s doing OK.’

  ‘And how about you? How do you like living here?’ Her blue eyes were watching him now. Tendrils of hair had escaped her bun and frizzed around her head as if she’d received a static shock. She wore no make-up this morning and her skin was pink and fresh.

  ‘I like it but I won’t be settling. I came here as a stopgap before I set off on my change-of-career adventure.’ He let go of his end of the towel and Doggo pounced on it, shaking it savagely. Then he dragged it into his bed and lay on it as if to show it who was boss.

  Lily gave a reminiscent smile. ‘I didn’t intend to stay here long, either. Then I fell in love with the place.’ Her smile became wistful. ‘How long I stay is up for debate. Zinnia extended an olive branch by inviting me out on Friday but I know she’d like me to move on after Switzerland.’ She sighed.

  Isaac moved closer, captured by the regret in her eyes. ‘It seems unfair if she expects you to change your whole way of life to accommodate her insecurities.’

  She pulled a face. ‘Agree. But I can’t push her on it now she’s up to her ears in the aftermath of the fire. I’ve made up my mind to forget it for now and just enjoy the run-up to our trip.’ Wistfulness gone, she sent him a mischievous glance. ‘Like you, I’m ripe for a little adventure.’

  All at once the atmosphere was charged. There was something in her gaze, the deliberate way she delivered the words as if he was meant to pick up a cue. It made him imagine what it might be like to share an adventure with Lily, an adventure that might also be called a fling and involve hot kisses and discarded clothes. As if the vision were controlling him he inched closer. ‘Intriguing,’ he murmured. Her eyebrows rose as if encouraging him to go on and he told himself not to, even while his mouth said, ‘You’re intriguing. I’ve been trying hard not to like you.’

  Interest sharpened her gaze and she replied seriously, ‘How’s that going?’

  He sighed. ‘You’re hard to get out of my mind. I like you more all the time. I’d love to …’ He looked at her mouth. Stopped. Collected himself. ‘But I really am not staying long. If Mr Tubb decides to retire then he’ll sell. If he comes back then he won’t need me. Either way, I’m gone. I think you have a right to expect more than that.’ Tentatively, he looped his fingers with hers, not sure if it was wrong to even discuss it or worse to let her pass out of his life without acting on the attraction he felt.

  ‘Expect?’ she said softly. ‘I expect little from men. Maybe it’s because I was brought up in an all-female household but I honestly don’t think I’ve relied on one in my life. Even Sergio. It wasn’t that hard to part from him – and we were married.’ This time it was she who took a tiny step closer.

  Another inch and they’d be touching.

  His hand tightened on hers. ‘A gorgeous, sunny woman who doesn’t mind men who don’t want to be relied upon. My Christmas may have come early.’ His heart rate had picked up at her nearness, at the fresh, damp smell of her hair.

  Lily laughed. Her low, husky chuckle always caught his attention. When somebody said something witty first her eyes would
smile, then dance, before the chuckle escaped onto the air to touch a chord deep inside him. He leaned forward and kissed her.

  It wasn’t really a decision. It was a compulsion; something to which he could only give in. Her mouth was warm in a cold face, sweet and tender. When he pulled back she looked at him unspeaking, her eyes soft and unfocused. He did it again. And she did it back.

  Her arms slid up around his neck, her body slowly settling against his by voluptuous degrees. Pleasure rushed through him, sensitising his skin and heating his blood, sharpening his hunger for more. He ran his palms over the smooth contours of her back, her mouth moving sensuously against his, her tongue stroking and teasing as he returned the caress. He felt, rather than heard, a groan in the back of his throat.

  Then his conscience brought him up short. Reluctantly, he paused. ‘I know I’m only temporary, but I am your line manager. I’ve always avoided this situation.’ He groaned against her skin.

  Slowly, slowly, slowly, her embrace slackened. Then, smoothly, she stepped back with a regretful but understanding smile. ‘Of course. I remember how uncomfortable Sergio used to get at being hit on by girls working at Bar Barcelona. He said it was a minefield.’ She glanced out of the window. ‘Looks as if the hailstorm’s over. See you next time I’m on shift.’ Pulling her coat from the back of the chair she swung it around her and shoved her arms into the sleeves, stooping to give Doggo a farewell pat in passing.

  Isaac watched, struck dumb by her decisive reaction, unable to frame a way of saying, ‘Hang on, I was still making up my mind,’ or, even, ‘I was hoping to be persuaded.’

  At the door, she paused. ‘It didn’t seem to bother Tubb that Janice worked for him.’ She grinned and then she was gone, clattering down the stairs, leaving him staring at empty space and hearing the echo of the back door closing.

  ‘I just earned my moron credentials for an entire decade,’ he said aloud, hearing his own incredulity on the empty air. Doggo thumped his tail but remained in his cosy bed by the radiator. ‘She told me she didn’t have to rely on men, she proved it by making a move and I shut her down. And then she pointed out the absolutely bleeding obvious, that our boss is in a relationship with a member of his staff so relationships aren’t a problem here. This woman really writes her own rule book.’