Kiss Me Under the Mistletoe

by Fiona Harper

  Louise didn’t question Ben’s tug on her hand—she just followed him. He took her out of the shop, down a side street and through some alleyways, until they arrived in a narrow passage between the pub and the next door cottage on the main road that separated the village from the beach and jetty. He pressed a finger to his lips and peered out over the road.

  Louise had forgotten they were running, hiding. She’d been too busy noticing the warm hand wrapped around her own. How long had it been since she’d touched someone other than Jack? And even those opportunities had been few and far between recently. How long had it been since she hadn’t felt totally alone, as if it was her against the world?

  Too long—if the warm feeling creeping up her left arm and into her chest had anything to do with it.

  ‘He’s there on the jetty,’ Ben said as he turned round to whisper to her, a wicked smile on his lips. ‘Do you want me to just run up behind him and shove him in?’

  That made her laugh softly. ‘You’d do that for me?’

  Was it sad that Ben’s throwaway remark was the nicest thing anyone had said to her in a long time?

  His smile faded and he looked down at their joined hands. Slowly, he slid his fingers from hers. ‘No … Just joking. Anyway, the tide’s out.’ He pushed his fists into his trouser pockets.

  Louise’s eyes narrowed. So what if there was mostly damp, hard sand and pebbles below all but the very end of the jetty? She reckoned the guy deserved everything he got.

  Ben leaned against the wall and looked out towards the river again. Louise kept herself in his shadow, blocking any view someone might have of her from the road. Whose idea had it been to wear a baby pink track-suit today? Honestly? She might as well have strapped a homing beacon onto her head.

  ‘He’s coming back this way,’ he muttered over his shoulder. And then a few moments later, ‘I think he’s giving up.’

  Not more than a minute after that they heard the noise of a car engine and a beat-up saloon sped past them on the narrow road. Louise sagged against the wall and let out a sigh of relief. ‘He’s gone?’ she asked quietly.

  Ben nodded. The look in his eyes—not pity, but understanding—made her feel a little wobbly.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said softly. ‘But you didn’t need to do all that. I’ve made you late for your meeting.’

  He just shrugged. ‘That’s what being part of a small community like this is all about. We look out for each other.’

  Louise nodded. That was what she’d wanted for her and Jack, wasn’t it? To be part of village life, to fit in. Then why was disappointment making her insides plummet? She hadn’t wanted to think he was doing something special for her, was she, instead of just doing a kind thing he’d do for anyone else? That would be stupid.

  They waited a minute more to be sure the car didn’t come back the other way, and then Ben moved out of the way and let Louise pass.

  ‘The ferry’s just arrived from Whitehaven pier,’ he said, gesturing to the little wooden boat rocking on the waves. ‘If you’re quick you can catch it, and then there’ll be no chance of getting caught waiting around with nowhere to run.’

  She nodded again—words seemed to have deserted her—and then she gave him a small smile and ran across the road and towards the waiting boat. When she looked back Ben Oliver was nowhere to be seen. It was only then that she realised she’d expected to find him standing there, making sure she got on the boat safely.

  Stupid, Louise. He’s nothing to you. And you’re nothing to him. Why should he care if you get on the ferry?

  But why should he care if she avoided the photographer, in that case? Why had he helped her escape?

  Louise shook the thought away with a toss of her ponytail and she clambered over the side of the ferry and sat down in the stern. Tara was right: she was spending too much time on her own. Now a good-looking man just had to be a little bit nice to her and it was making her think all sorts of crazy things.

  She deliberately focused on the little cottage that sat beyond the small pier on the other side of the ferry. Still, as the boat pulled around, Lower Hadwell came into view again. As the boat turned, Louise caught a dark shape standing on the café terrace just across the road from the pub. A man.

  Adrenalin spiked through her as she thought it might be the paparazzo, back for more, but then she realised he wasn’t wearing a blue coat, but a smart dark suit. And when the little ferry began to chug across the choppy water, the dark shape turned and made its way back across the road and up the hill.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Louise walked down to the boathouse again after she got back on dry land. When she entered she went straight to the fireplace, removed the two tiles and pulled Laura’s diary out.

  She’d lived here for decades. How had she managed to come and go as she pleased without being stalked?

  She pulled one of the dusty cane chairs over and sat down and began to read, without even cleaning it off first. Her life was a mess and she’d dearly like to lose herself in someone else’s for a bit.

  17th July, 1952

  I don’t know how I am ever going to go home again and act as if everything is normal and that this was just another job. Today was the last day of filming. I had a lump in my throat all day. Twice I had to take a break just to compose myself. I told Sam I was just tired because it was the end of the shoot.

  And Dominic and I didn’t even have any big scenes to shoot—just a couple of plain conversations in a corridor. I couldn’t hold him. I couldn’t touch him. And I wanted to so much.

  There weren’t many of us left behind, because most of the bigger scenes had been filmed earlier in the week. Only five of us actors remained. So, Sam has planned a big wrap party back in London next week. We stragglers went across the river to the little Ferryboat Inn for a drink. I had to sit there with my gin and tonic, looking across the table at the man I loved, knowing it might be the last time I’d ever get the chance to talk to him properly, all the while listening to some dull sound man drone on about all the fishing he’d wanted to do, but hadn’t had time for. Very romantic! In the end I had to get up and walk out. I felt as if I just couldn’t breathe.

  The beach at Lower Hadwell is small and stony, but it was a clear moonlit night and the warm air was a pleasure to walk in after the smoke and air of the Ferryboat Inn. I wrapped my arms around myself and tried to wish the clock backwards, so I could just have one more day with Dominic.

  That was how he found me.

  For the longest time we didn’t say anything to each other. Even if I’d had the words, I’m not sure I’d have been able to get them out.

  ‘I don’t want to lose you,’ I eventually told him.

  He didn’t need to agree. His face said it all.

  ‘I can’t see you again, not after the party next week’ was all he said, and I know it half-killed him. It certainly half-killed me.

  I nodded. ‘I know,’ I said.

  He reminded me that we’d made other promises to other people. He didn’t say much about her—Jean—only that she was fragile, that he couldn’t leave her.

  I nodded again, wishing those promises undone from both our lips. I’d known his wife, a well-known singer, had had a troubled history. There had been rumours of instability before she’d married Dominic, but everyone thought that was in the past now she had such a devoted husband. But if anyone knows that what you read in the papers doesn’t always reflect the truth at home, it’s me. Why would I want to escape my ‘fairy tale’ otherwise?

  ‘I promised her I wouldn’t leave,’ he told me. ‘She needs me.’

  I wanted to be selfish then, to tell him I needed him too, but I didn’t. What right did I have? And I was sure that Alex would not make it easy for me to break free. There’d be a scandal that could end both our careers and I couldn’t do that to Dominic. I wouldn’t want to be the reason everyone hated him.

  But then he surprised me by stepping in close, pulling me into his arms. I hung onto him, just
hung onto him, wishing the night could last forever. And then he bent down and kissed my hair with such tenderness. I could feel him shaking beneath my hands.

  ‘But I can promise you something, too, Laura,’ he whispered. ‘I will never forget you, and you will always, always be in my heart.’

  And then he ripped himself away from me and strode back up the beach, not looking back, leaving me to sit down untidily on the damp shingle and cry.

  Why? thought Louise. Why does love always have to die? Why does it always have to end badly? She had been hoping for something more than this, some hope, really. Unable to read any more, she tucked the diary back into its hiding place and returned to the house.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘Mum? Can we go outside? It’s stopped raining.’

  Louise stopped herself from putting the kettle on the Aga for a fifth time. She didn’t really want another cup of tea. It was just that, at some point this afternoon, somebody might want one.

  ‘Can we? Please?’ Jack’s voice was so high-pitched on that last word she was sure dogs would be bounding towards them from all over the district.

  ‘Can we what?

  Her son ran to the back door and opened it, letting in a gust of damp November air. Louise walked over to where he stood and stuck her head out of the door. Moisture dripped from the leaves of an evergreen bush in the little courtyard directly outside the kitchen, but the clouds were now a pale, pearly grey and she even thought she saw a hint of blue before it was hurried away by the wind.

  Fresh air would do her good. Fresh air would stop her waiting. Or wondering why he was late. Well, not late, because they’d never really set a time for him to come and go, but later than normal.

  She shook her head and reached for the scarf and hat on a peg nearby. Ben Oliver had turned all her assumptions about him on their heads once this week already. Why shouldn’t he do it again?

  The grass on the sloping lawn in front of the house was still damp, but it didn’t stop Jack deciding a game of football was the ideal way to burn off a bit of energy. They used a couple of the medium-sized stones lining the driveway to mark out the goals.

  She’d never been good at games at school, always too tired from looking after both Dad and the younger kids. Jack was running rings around her, but then he misjudged a kick and the ball went flying past her towards the edge of the woods. She ran after it and stopped it with the side of her boot. If all went according to plan, she would have at least one goal to Jack’s seven by the time they gave up and headed back inside for hot chocolate.

  She swung her leg in an almighty kick. There was a jarring pain in her lower back as it met something flat and solid and, all of a sudden, she was staring at the sky. She could hear Jack laughing his head off some distance away.

  ‘Just you wait!’ she yelled, giggling slightly herself, but the mirth stopped when she attempted to move. ‘Ouch!’

  ‘Here.’ The voice was as rich and low and she recognised it instantly. She also recognised the broad, long-fingered hand that came into her field of vision—although exactly when she’d noticed the shape of Ben Oliver’s hands, she wasn’t sure.

  Even through the wool of her gloves, his skin was warm and he gripped her hand in such a way that she knew she could give him all her weight and he wouldn’t let her fall. She winced as he gently helped her to her feet. ‘Ow.’

  ‘Where does it hurt?’

  She didn’t want to draw even more attention to her slightly-larger-than-planned and somewhat muddy backside. ‘Where d’you think?’

  ‘Do you want me to take a look?’

  ‘No!’ Louise’s cheeks went hot and she twisted out of his grip and brushed herself down, more for camouflage than for cosmetic effect. ‘Don’t tell me you’re an almost-doctor as well as an almost-gardener.’

  He laughed and she looked up at him, her irritation dissolving. It was only then she noticed the girl standing slightly behind him. She had shoulder-length, honey-coloured hair, nothing at all like Ben’s dark mop, but her eyes were all her father’s.

  Ben grabbed his daughter’s hand and pulled her forward a little. She blushed and looked at the ground. ‘Louise, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Jasmine.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, Jasmine. I’m Louise. Your dad’s been helping me out with my garden.’

  ‘I know.’ The reply was barely a whisper, and Jasmine flushed an even deeper shade of red.

  Her father may not have known who Louise Thornton was the first time he met her, but Jasmine certainly did. This kind of reaction wasn’t unusual. Louise knew she’d acted identically when she’d started going out with Toby and he’d introduced her to the latest Oscar-winning Hollywood actress.

  ‘Come and meet my son, Jack. He’s football mad, I’m afraid.’

  Jasmine shrugged and followed her across the lawn as Ben strolled along, bringing up the rear. Jack took one look at Jasmine and Louise knew he’d decided she was okay. As the child of a celebrity couple, he had an uncanny kind of radar for discerning between hangers-on and real friends. He made instinctive decisions in a second and he was rarely wrong. Now, how did she go about getting herself some of that?

  Jack picked up his football and started walking in the direction of the back door. ‘There’s biscuits inside. Want some?’

  Jasmine nodded furiously and broke into a trot to keep up with him as he raced off towards the kitchen.

  Ben fell into step beside Louise as they followed their offspring. ‘Sorry I had to bring Jas with me. I hope it’s okay.’

  ‘Of course it’s okay. Who do you think I am? The wicked witch of the West?’

  He was smirking when she looked up at him. ‘You can be a tad fierce at times.’

  Was she? Really? She fell into silence for a few seconds while she pondered his remark. What had happened to the shy, sweet Louise she’d once been? Where was the awkward girl with the too-long limbs that sprouted through the sleeves of her school blazer?

  Eventually, she said quietly, ‘If you’d been really afraid, you wouldn’t have come.’

  Ben laughed again. She liked that sound. She wondered if she could make him do it some more. Only, so far, it had only happened accidentally, when she hadn’t actually been trying to be funny at all.

  ‘True. I hadn’t intended to bring Jas at all, it’s just that …’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘… it’s complicated.’

  ‘Trust me. I know complicated. Your ex have something to do with this?’

  Ben stared off into the distance for a few seconds and she stopped walking, aware that it would be better if this conversation wasn’t overheard from the kitchen. Ben halted beside her.

  ‘Megan …’ He made a microscopic movement with his head, as if he wanted to shake it but was stopping himself. ‘She’s a good mother, really. It’s just that lately her priorities have been a little skewed.’

  Louise nodded.

  ‘She seems to think that now Jas has started senior school she can fend for herself a bit more. And, probably, she could. It’s just with the divorce still in the recent past, I think Jas feels a little neglected. Megan had last-minute plans and cancelled their Sunday afternoon together. I don’t think she even realises how shut out Jas feels sometimes.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘Since the divorce? Two years.’

  ‘I’m still waiting for mine to be finalised, but we split up five months ago.’ Louise breathed in. ‘Girls need a mother at that age.’

  She had certainly ached for her mother going through those awkward years, but Mum had died just as she was on the brink of puberty, and she’d had to muddle through on her own. At least when her sisters had reached that age she’d been able to help them along.

  She turned and smiled at Ben, tried to make herself seem less—what had he called her?—intimidating. ‘Well, Jas is very welcome here. I understand completely.’

  Ben let out a breath and smiled back, and for the first time since she’d met him, Louise felt as if she wasn�
�t a complete mess compared to him. He might be out the other side of the divorce process, but she could still recognise the scars. But if he could pull through, maybe so could she.

  Ben turned and scanned the lawn, which had sprouted magnificently since the previous Sunday, thanks to a healthy dose of West Country rain. ‘Thanks,’ he said, glancing back at her. ‘I’d better get started. It’s going to get dark soon.’

  When Louise reached the back door, Jack ran across the kitchen and skidded to a halt in front of her. ‘Jas says there’s fireworks on tonight. Can we go?’

  Fireworks? Oh, of course. Time had taken on a strange quality since she’d moved to Whitehaven. The date was … what? The second or third of November? It was only days away from Guy Fawkes’ night and there would be bonfires and firework displays all over the area this weekend. She thought the bangs she’d heard last night must have been shotguns, but now it all made sense.

  ‘I don’t know, Jack. What time is it? And where?’

  ‘I’ll ask Jas!’ He raced out of the kitchen before she could quietly explain that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to be out in public, that maybe the Olivers wouldn’t want a couple of extras tagging along. She fiddled with her cup of tea while she waited for her son to return but, after a couple of minutes, she decided he must have found something else to get all hyper about and had lost interest.

  They didn’t need to go out to see fireworks. Whitehaven was perched high on a hill and there would be great views from the attic windows. They could stay here and watch at a safe distance.

  Ben knocked softly on the back door. There was no reply. He stared at the chunky Victorian handle for a second, then gripped it, the brass chilly against his palm, and turned. The door swung open on surprisingly creak-free hinges.

  ‘Hello?’

  Louise was standing at the old butler’s sink staring out the window. He could hear water sloshing and see bubbles splashing and a moment later she dumped an upturned cup on the draining rack. It fell over. She didn’t even look at it, just grabbed the next bit of crockery off the pile and started washing again. He coughed.