Let It Snow

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Let It Snow Page 19

by Sue Moorcroft


  Isaac set Doggo free to dash in circles, spraying snow in his wake, ears flying and tongue lolling.

  ‘He’s a wag with a black-and-white dog attached.’ Lily laughed, watching Doggo roll exuberantly, pedalling his paws.

  Isaac slowed his steps, which made Lily automatically do the same. He dropped his voice. ‘What are the plans after the singing gig at the Christmas market this evening?’

  She shrugged. ‘Kirstin’s provided me a list of eating places but apparently it’s much cheaper to buy bratwurst and other goodies at the market.’

  ‘And then?’ Isaac asked patiently, his eyes fixed on her as they walked. ‘I’m hoping to separate you from the rest of the party and maybe doing something vaguely date-like.’

  ‘Oh!’ She flushed, feeling suddenly shy. ‘That would be lovely.’ Ahead, the others had strung out around the tiny white church and the tall wooden cross beside it. The teenagers were apparently not yet tired of throwing snowballs or finding untouched snow in which to leave a boot print and Neil, Franciszka and Carola strolled in their wake, chatting to Max who was pointing to the various peaks. ‘But what do we say to the others?’

  ‘How about you say, “I’m going out with Isaac” and I say “I’m going out with Lily”?’ He tried to take her uninjured hand but with his ski mittens and her insulated gloves, their hands slithered apart.

  Lily’s butterflies dive-bombed back into her tummy. ‘It seems kind of … particular.’

  He slowed to a stop. His voice was soft and low. ‘If looking “particular” makes you uncomfortable we can take Doggo and walk somewhere, but I’d like to spend time with you. Not the you looking after the Middletones, not the you doing business with British Country Foods, not the you anxious about the various parts of your family, not the you serving at The Three Fishes. I want a couple of hours of just Lily.’ His earring peeped out from his woollen hat beside the ends of his dark hair.

  ‘Sounds lovely,’ she murmured.

  Doggo raced back in a shower of snow to see what was keeping them and they went to join the others to hear Max telling them that the two-metre-tall sticks along the trail showed how deep the snow would get in the depths of winter. Emily looked at him with frank disbelief. ‘They’re taller than me. You can’t get that much snow.’

  Max grinned. ‘Believe me – you can! In January and February you’d sink without trace.’

  The temperature was beginning to fall as the shadows lengthened so they headed back, slithering down the steep trail through the spiky green pines to Schützenberg to get ready for the Christmas market.

  As they reached the car park fresh flakes of snow began to fall, stinging skin like love bites from the Snow Queen.

  Isaac was still enjoying the ‘king of the road’ feeling he got behind the wheel of the minibus, as the snow drifted down like feathers in the darkness. Boys and their toys, he thought, steering the large vehicle out of Toblerstrasse to pick up the others. Everyone was thanking him and praising him for dropping everything to come on this trip but he was having a great time, especially with Lily jiggling with excitement in the seat beside him.

  When they reached the Little Apartments the others bounced into the minibus in various stages of anticipation and nervousness to join Franciszka in the back.

  ‘Everyone got their overshirts, hats and scarves?’ Lily demanded, craning between the headrests. Amidst assurances that they had Isaac set off downhill to the car park near the central square.

  His role was over once he’d parked and Lily had bought the parking ticket until the group needed to be conveyed home but he strolled along with them beneath the Christmas illuminations anyway, pulling up his hood as snow tried to find exposed flesh on which to bestow its nippy kisses. The increasingly nervous-looking singers pulled black smocks over their coats and put on red woolly hats and scarves. Eddie swung his guitar onto his back in its gig bag and Warwick carried his keyboard in a case, Alfie taking charge of the stand and Neil the PA. All at once, they looked like a group.

  They followed Lily’s phone map app through the swirling snow, along a couple of small streets until they reached the gently sloping town square surrounded by tall buildings painted in pinks, greys and blues, snow outlining the sills and shutters. On some, the rendering was beautifully painted with curlicues or geometric designs. ‘Pretty,’ Lily breathed, eyes reflecting the thousand lights suspended like stars in the night sky above rows of stalls like little red chalets with snow on the roofs. Each stall glittered with stars and lanterns so the entire market seemed luminous.

  The jaunty red stalls sold everything from food to decorations to jewellery to glühwein. The aisles were thronged with shoppers, colourful ski jackets much in evidence along with sturdy boots and hats of every description. Delicious smells of hot bratwurst and waffles rose on the air, causing Warwick, Eddie and Alfie to take deep, appreciative sniffs.

  ‘Apparently the British Country Foods market stall is near the carousel.’ Lily pointed with a gloved hand up the slope to where painted horses on barley-twist poles were performing their up-and-down waltz, gleeful children clinging to their backs.

  Isaac could see over the bobbing heads of most shoppers. ‘Kirstin’s there already.’

  ‘Good.’ Lily’s led the way towards the stall. Not being a Middletone Isaac was happy to step aside and watch as Lily and Kirstin kissed cheeks. Then Lily inspected the stall, something she described as ‘checking the merchandising’ while two smiling ladies served a crowd of customers with marmalade and chutney, pork pies, Cornish pasties, Scotch eggs and crumpets. Lily shook hands with the ladies and Isaac heard her repeat their names: Melina and Sarah.

  Lily had pushed back her hood under the shelter of the stall and her blonde hair glowed beneath the lights. Her smile flashed as she consulted Carola, checking her watch, her head tipping back as she laughed. The Middletones clustered around, listening, smiling.

  She was like a beacon to the others, he thought. It only took a courteous request from her and Kirstin brought out an electrical lead. The teen boys and Neil set up the PA and instruments under a canopy beside the stall, presumably there to prevent anyone getting fried if snow made contact with an electrical instrument. Eddie and Warwick played a few chords then Lily lifted her eyebrows at Carola, who nodded. The group formed up beside Warwick and Eddie.

  All eyes were on Carola as she made a ‘Ready?’ face at everyone then counted Warwick and Eddie in. Their heads nodded as they burst into the introduction to ‘I Wish it Could be Christmas Everyday’. Around them, people paused, turned, came closer, some buying glühwein or hot chocolate at nearby stalls as they prepared to enjoy the free entertainment.

  The song was greeted with applause when they finished and Kirstin stepped forward, speaking in her own language and then switching to English to say, ‘And so our British friends, the Middletones, have driven all the way from England to be the guests of British Country Foods and to sing for us.’

  She stepped aside and Carola brought them in for several traditional carols like ‘Once in Royal David’s City’, ending with ‘Silent Night’. A number of people joined in, Isaac noticed, some singing the German words and applauding enthusiastically at the end.

  The audience swelled and Isaac saw Tubb, Janice, Garrick and Eleanor join the fringes of the crowd.

  Lily’s face shone. She looked so happy at their reception that he knew she must have been hiding a few doubts behind her apparent confidence in the project she’d put together. They began ‘Let it Snow’ and, obligingly, the snow began to fall more heavily, as if it, too, wanted Lily and the Middletones to look good. Melina emerged from the British Country Foods stall to offer bite-sized samples of food, savoury on one platter and sweet on the other. Isaac swiped a piece of tea bread as she passed and popped it in his mouth, savouring the sweet, light bread studded with raisins and sultanas. Kirstin glided around with her iPhone, taking photos and videos for social media.

  In another ten minutes the Middletones had comple
ted the set, ending with a rousing rendition of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’, greeted with applause and even a whistle or two. Carola beamed, her pale hair escaping from beneath her red hat. ‘Thank you for making us welcome. The Middletones will be singing here again on Saturday afternoon and evening.’

  Kirstin moved forward to add, ‘And our stall will be here to bring you delicious British food until the market ends on Sunday.’

  It was over. The crowd began to disperse, some to browse the wares on the BCF stall and chat to Sarah or Melina. Garrick, Eleanor, Tubb and Janice smiled and said their hellos. ‘I hope you don’t mind us just dropping by for such a short time,’ Isaac heard Garrick say, a knitted hat low on his forehead. ‘We’re on our way out for a meal.’

  Isaac saw a shadow pass over Lily’s face as she watched her brothers leave to spend the evening together. Warwick and Eddie stowed their instruments and the PA in the back of the stall and the Middletones divested themselves of their black overshirts.

  Kirstin took Lily aside. ‘You are invited to the village’s advent brunch on Saturday, I think? Would you think about singing there too? It would just be a couple of carols. It’s not a commercial opportunity for us but Los is keen on community events.’

  ‘I’m sure we would,’ Lily agreed. ‘It’ll be an experience.’

  The others were evidently focused on more immediate experiences. Warwick gazed lustfully at the nearby bratwurst stall. ‘I’m freakin’ starving. I’m going to get me one of those awesome big sausages.’ Eddie, Alfie, Emily and Charlotte fell in with the awesome big sausage idea and Franciszka and Neil drifted off in another direction. Isaac hung on, beginning to feel the bite of snow in the air despite his heavily insulated outdoors clothes and, finally, Lily and Carola ended their conversation with Kirstin and joined him.

  Lily’s face was wreathed in smiles and even Carola seemed to have put her misery about Owen aside to beam right along with her. ‘That went well,’ Carola said.

  Lily put her good arm around the older woman’s shoulders. ‘Well? It went brilliantly! We were the dog’s bollocks!’ She turned to Isaac. ‘Did we sound OK?’

  ‘Fantastic.’ He didn’t have to augment reality at all. ‘Everyone loved it, tapping toes and nodding their heads. One elderly couple even smooched.’

  They spent the next hour sampling the delights of the market, buying thick, delicious-looking chocolate, admiring glass ornaments and wooden carvings, consuming bratwurst and beer at wooden tables and benches where they found the teenagers already eating. Waffles smothered in black cherries followed. ‘That was gorgeous,’ Carola said, smacking her lips. ‘But I’d love a cup of tea.’

  Although they laughed at her Englishness Isaac fetched three cups from a kiosk that was smothered in gold tinsel, silver baubles and white fir cones. The snow had slowed to the occasional flake but the air was so cold it squeezed their lungs.

  Sorting out his Swiss francs ready to pay, Isaac looked back at where Lily was leaning over the table talking earnestly to Carola and thought what a great time he was having with the Middletones in Switzerland.

  But man how he was itching to get Lily on her own.

  In the event, it proved easy. The market closed at eight. They collected their things from the BCF stall and found their way back to the car park. Isaac drove them up the hill, first to the Little Apartments, where most alighted. Eddie took his guitar but the rest of the equipment was left in the bus ready for the trip to the trade show tomorrow. Back at Los and Tanja’s home, Isaac parked the minibus and they followed the path, considerately already cleared, to the annexe.

  ‘Anyone mind if I flop down and watch DVDs? There’s season 7 of The Walking Dead here,’ Franciszka said as soon as she got inside, throwing off her coat, pulling the box set out from under the TV and grabbing the remote all in one movement.

  Wondering whether she’d noticed the sparks between him and Lily and was helpfully keeping out of their way, Isaac said, ‘That’s fine, we’ll take Doggo for a walk and maybe get a drink.’ He had to raise his voice over Doggo’s excited basso profundo bark as he flew about like a spotted rocket, bouncing off Isaac’s stomach and whizzing around Lily. Upon seeing Isaac grab the lead he performed a last pirouette before standing stock still to have his harness fitted.

  Lily’s eyes shone as she laughed. ‘What a head case you are, Doggo.’

  They stepped back outside into the cold and dark, following the path back to the street and turning right down Toblerstrasse. Making sure he was on Lily’s right side, Isaac took her hand though it wasn’t satisfactory through two pairs of gloves. After an initial caper at the joy of being in the snow again, Doggo settled down to sniffing everything in his path.

  ‘I like the Switzerland Lily, always smiling,’ Isaac said, grinning down at her as they walked.

  Her brows quirked. ‘Don’t I smile in England?’

  ‘Of course, but here it seems to be almost constant, as if you’re just having an amazing time.’ They passed beneath street lights and turned left down the hill into the town. Lights glittered like fireflies on every balcony, making the snow-coated roofs glow in the darkness. The headlights of vehicles glided up and down the hill and passing people were all garbed in the uniform of boots, coats, hats, scarves and gloves.

  ‘I am having an amazing time,’ she admitted. ‘It seems hard to believe it’s actually happening.’

  ‘I suppose it’s the “getting away from it all” thing as well.’ He clicked to Doggo to wait at the road before they crossed and continued downhill, the snow crunching at the edges of the path.

  Her smile dimmed. ‘Getting away from the trouble in Family Number One, do you mean? That doesn’t stop me worrying about them.’ She sighed. ‘And I’m only pressing my nose against the glass of Family Number Two to watch them living their lives.’

  He slid his arm around her, enjoying the closeness even through their down-filled coats. ‘Is that how it feels?’ It caused a tug in his heart.

  She slid her arm around him too. ‘That’s how it is.’ They tramped in silence for a minute, boots clomping on the pavement before she added, ‘It’s good to see them contented. I’m more and more inclined to leave things as they are. There are worse things to be than friends with your brothers.’

  He thought about it as they bore left again, still going downhill, towards a place he’d researched online this morning when she’d been off doing her stuff at the Food, Lifestyle & Health show. ‘Is this because of Zinnia?’

  ‘Not because she’s gone into a giant sulk about Tubb and Garrick. It’s more that my transparency with her caused trouble. At the moment, I have a good relationship with my brothers but if I tell them who I am, I have no idea how they’ll react. Also—’ Lily gave a little skip ‘—I’m leaning more towards staying in Middledip. Zinnia’s backed off and is feeling remorseful for hurting me. Mum and Patsie are having problems but it doesn’t seem to be my fault. I don’t even know if Tubb will come back to live in the village.’ She sighed, then she managed another smile. ‘My quest’s over. The ending isn’t quite what I once hoped for but that doesn’t make it a bad result.’ She transferred her gaze to a structure dripping in Christmas lights and with an outdoor area where the illumination was ultra blue. ‘Is that where we’re heading?’

  ‘It’s a skating rink next to the lake. I know you’re not up to skating with your injured hand but there’s a bar and Doggo can go in. I found it online this morning.’ They paused at the lake for Doggo to drink the ice-cold water noisily then crossed the final road and joined a path across a footbridge edged in yellow lanterns.

  ‘Stunning,’ Lily breathed, the lanterns reflecting like floating gold in her eyes.

  The blue lights illuminated an ice-skating rink currently populated by a gaggle of children bundled up in coats and hats and two teenagers flicking around a puck with hockey sticks. Lily’s smile returned to full power as she watched. ‘Look at the little ones pushing plastic penguins along to help them balance!’r />
  ‘Fantastic,’ he replied, looking at her instead.

  After watching the children for a few minutes they went indoors to a busy bar. They hung up their coats and Isaac got the drinks while Lily found a small table. The bar was alive with customers of every age from eighteen to eighty and Isaac had to fight his way back.

  Isaac picked up her left hand from the table. ‘Still multicoloured.’ He turned it gently. The Steri-Strip had come off and the tear in her skin was healing cleanly.

  ‘The swelling’s going down.’ Her head was close to his as she inspected the maltreated member. ‘It’s just sore now instead of going durr-dum, durr-dum all the time.’

  He touched the pad of his thumb to the purple and blue bruise on the palm as he asked her about all the things he’d never had a chance to discuss with her: where she’d gone to uni, whether she’d been brought up in Peterborough, whether she’d ever been to Juno Lounge – he was surprised to realise he felt a distance of more than miles from the Juno now – and where she liked to go on holiday. What kinds of films did she like? What music did she play while she worked and how was her design business going?

  Her mouth drooped glumly. ‘I’ve put so much into this project that once it’s over I don’t have much on the boil, to be honest. I’m going to have to either find some more project work, though it isn’t thick on the ground, or admit defeat and try and get a full-time job.’

  He hadn’t realised this last was a possibility. ‘What will happen about The Three Fishes?’

  She shrugged. ‘I suppose I’ll leave. It’s great to work a part-time job around a business but I can’t see how it would work with a full-time job. I like the community aspect of working at the pub but I only took that job to get to know Tubb.’ She arched a brow. ‘By that time you’ll probably be a qualified instructor in all that yomping and climbing stuff and be working in another country.’

 

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