She meant Adam, Sadie thought, dipping her head to hide the blush that was creeping up her cheeks. He’d been a rock since the shop had opened, cheerfully doing everything asked of him and more besides – Sadie had caught herself admiring his skill with their customers more than once as the days passed by and she could tell from the flirtatious smiles they sent back that plenty of other women appreciated his unselfconscious charm too. But it was more than just a physical attraction, she decided; she liked everything about him, from his passion for nature to his gentle, self-deprecating humour. In fact, the twenty minutes they spent together in the car travelling to and from the city was fast becoming one of the bright spots of Sadie’s day. She found him incredibly easy to talk to and they had so much in common – she’d lost count of the number of times they’d spent the entire journey laughing. But as lovely as it was to get to know Adam better, Daniel still loomed large in her life and his assertion that he saw a future for him and Sadie simply muddied the emotional waters. The only way to deal with her conflicting feelings was to push them to the back of her mind and focus on her work. After Christmas, she told herself. I’ll think about it all then.
Somehow, Sadie juggled Lissy’s end-of-term commitments without feeling as though she had totally failed as a parent but it came as a relief when school broke up two days before Christmas Eve. She’d reluctantly agreed months earlier to Daniel’s demands that he had Lissy on their first Christmas Day apart, anticipating that he might change his mind and jet off somewhere exotic and non-child-friendly with his new girlfriend instead. But Daniel had surprised her; now that he was embracing his role as a father in a way he never had before, Sadie was faced with the prospect of spending Christmas Day on her own. Unwilling to give Daniel even more time with Lissy, on the first day of the holidays Sadie packed a bag of games and toys and told Lissy she was going to visit Mummy’s work. Adam took the extra passenger in his stride, spending the drive into Chester playing I Spy instead of chatting with Sadie. She didn’t mind giving up his attention in favour of Lissy; it made her heart melt to see them getting along so well.
At the shop, everyone made a big fuss of Lissy.
‘Wow,’ Elin said, when she popped in with a chocolate snowman lolly for the little girl. ‘She is such a mini you.’
Sadie laughed. ‘She might look like me but when it comes down to getting her own way, she’s definitely her father’s daughter.’
Cat looked up and gave Sadie an enigmatic look, before busying herself with her work again. Lissy sat downstairs at one of the long trestle tables, colouring or playing with Sadie’s discarded icing bags, enjoying the attention she was getting from the Smart Cookies staff. The system was working well, until a large last-minute order came in from a luxury hotel in the centre of Chester.
‘They want how many festive gingerbread men?’ Sadie squeaked, when Clare passed on the message.
‘Four hundred and fifty,’ Clare repeated. ‘By tomorrow.’
Cat rolled up her sleeves and fired Sadie a determined look. ‘Right. We can do this. You can ice the stock we have already and I’ll bake some more.’
Sadie was so engrossed in her work that it took her a little while to notice Lissy was no longer perched at the long table. ‘Lissy?’ she called, frowning. ‘Where are you?’
Cat looked up. ‘Is she in the toilets?’
Lowering her icing bag, Sadie went to check. There was no sign of her daughter. Feeling uneasiness wash over her, she hurried upstairs.
‘Have you seen Lissy?’ she murmured to Adam, once he’d finished serving his customer.
He shook his head. ‘She’s not downstairs?’
‘No.’ Sadie looked around with a rising sense of panic. ‘Did she come up here? Has she gone outside?’
Cat was upstairs too, her face tense. ‘She’s not under the tables. Let’s spread out and check the Court. If she did wander out, she can’t have gone far.’
Trying hard to control her breathing, Sadie scanned the bustling courtyard. But with only two days until Christmas, the public was out in force buying last-minute presents; it was hard to find anyone in the crowd, let alone a five-year-old.
‘Please let her be okay,’ she mumbled to herself, pushing her way through the shoppers as tears pricked her eyes. ‘Please let one of us find her.’
But it was hopeless, she realised, as terror took over her heart. Once or twice, she caught a glimpse of auburn hair and forced her way towards it but it turned out to be someone else’s child. Breaking into wild sobs, Sadie climbed up onto an empty chair and opened her mouth. ‘Lissy! Lissy, where are you?’
People stared up at her as though she was mad. ‘Please,’ she cried. ‘I’ve lost my daughter. She’s wearing a blue dress and has red hair like mine. Please help me find her.’
Word started to make its way through the shoppers and they began to look around. Then, just as Sadie thought she would lose what little self-control she had left, a shout rang out. ‘Here! She’s over here!’
Sadie pushed her way forwards, not caring who she elbowed in her efforts to reach Lissy. When at last she arrived at the spot, she almost hardly dared to look. What if it wasn’t her, she thought wildly. But it was – she stood holding Adam’s hand under the branches of the fairy-lit oak tree. Tear-stained and terrified, Lissy’s small face dissolved into tears the moment she saw Sadie. ‘Mummy!’ she cried. ‘Mummy, I was so scared.’
Sadie gathered her daughter into her arms and held her as tightly as she dared, raining kisses onto the top of her curly head. ‘You’re safe now,’ she said, through her own tears. ‘That’s all that matters. You’re safe.’
She glanced up at Adam, almost too grateful to speak. ‘Thank you,’ she mouthed.
‘No problem,’ he said with a gentle smile. ‘No problem at all.’
*
‘Are you sure you don’t want to go home?’ Cat asked Sadie, for the fifth time. ‘You’ve both had a terrible shock.’
They were sitting at the long table in the basement, Lissy clinging onto Sadie and only letting go to take a bite of a chocolate pancake from Jaren that was bigger than her head.
‘No,’ Sadie said, stroking her daughter’s hair. ‘We’ve got so many gingerbread men to decorate – I can’t go.’
‘So take some with you,’ Cat said. ‘Work on them once Lissy is asleep later and bring them back tomorrow. We’ve got time – we can spare you for a few hours.’
Sadie shook her head stubbornly. ‘We’ll never get them all done. I need to stay here.’ She tried to get up but Lissy moaned, tightening her grip.
‘Face it, Sadie,’ Cat said in a kind voice. ‘You’re not getting anything else done this afternoon.’
Clare poked her head around the top of the stairs. ‘I’ve got an A-level in Art. If someone shows me what to do with a piping bag, I could probably copy Sadie’s designs.’ She hesitated and looked embarrassed. ‘I’m not saying they’ll be anywhere near as perfect but they’ll do the job.’
‘See?’ Cat said, making a shooing motion. ‘You’re not indispensable after all.’
Sadie glanced up the stairs, where Adam was serving behind the counter. ‘I need to give Adam a lift—’
Cat let out an exasperated growl. ‘He’s a big boy – he can get the bus. Now go – none of us is getting anything done while you’re in the way.’ She smiled, to let Sadie see that she was only joking. ‘We’ll see you in the morning.’
Defeated, Sadie managed a weary nod. ‘Okay. I’m gone.’
It wasn’t until later that evening, when she was tucking an exhausted Lissy under the covers, that the full emotional fall-out hit Sadie. She knelt at her daughter’s bedside, stroking her sleeping head and letting enormous silent tears drop unchecked onto her lap. And afterwards, when she’d had no more tears left, she’d sat at her kitchen table, surrounded by gingerbread men and icing sugar, staring at nothing, reliving the moment when she first realised there was no way she could find Lissy in the crowd. Eventually, she gave up any
pretence at work and sent a text to Daniel:
Could you have Lissy tomorrow? I need to go into the shop.
His reply was almost instant.
Of course. Your place or mine?
Sadie sighed; if this evening had been anything to go by, Lissy would want the comfort of familiar things around her:
Here. Can you arrive by eight o’clock?
See you then, was his response.
And then Sadie went to bed. She lay awake for what felt like hours, then eventually fell into a dreamless sleep that was broken only by Lissy crawling into bed and nestling against her.
*
Getting ready to leave Lissy on Christmas Eve was even harder than Sadie expected. Daniel arrived just before eight and frowned when he saw her subdued expression. ‘Cheer up,’ he told her when she opened the cottage door to let him in. ‘It’s nearly Christmas.’
Sadie tried her best to dredge up a smile. She’d already decided not to tell him about the events of the day before; not until she had time to explain properly. ‘Take it easy with her today,’ she told Daniel, nodding to where Lissy was curled up on the sofa, watching a dinosaur cartoon. ‘She was up in the night.’
‘Sure,’ he nodded. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Fine,’ she said quickly. ‘Nothing to worry about.’
The weight of Sadie’s mood lifted slightly when she picked Adam up. He did almost all of the talking, describing two customers who had almost come to blows over the last angel biscuit in the shop and taking deliberate care not to ask her how she was feeling. At the shop, Cat gave her a long, warm hug and then pushed her towards row after row of gingerbread men. ‘Ice,’ was all she said.
Sadie didn’t leave the basement kitchen all day, although she checked in with Daniel often. Visitors came and went; Elin stopped by with a cuddly woolly mammoth for Lissy, Andrew and Earl had found what seemed to be the world’s largest toy school bus and had wrapped it in dinosaur paper. Jaren brought over some Stroop waffles – sweet waffles that needed to sit on top of a hot drink to melt the toffee inside – and a pair of exquisite wooden clogs. Seb had nothing for Lissy but presented Sadie with a bottle of ready-mixed cosmopolitan with a label that read: God knows you’ve earned it. And Sadie said thank you over and over, and hid her face more often than she cared to admit because their kindness was overwhelming.
When the enormous gingerbread man order had been delivered, the last frantic customer had been served, and the doors of Smart Cookies had finally closed, Sadie, Cat, Adam and Clare stood in the middle of the decimated shelves and gazed at each other.
‘Well, that happened,’ Cat said, shrugging in wide-eyed amazement. ‘I can’t quite believe we made it through but somehow, we did.’
‘Thank you,’ Sadie said, looking at Adam and Clare. ‘It doesn’t seem like enough just to say it so there’s a little present to show you how grateful we are behind the counter, and you’ll find a little extra bonus in your pay packets this month. We really couldn’t have managed without either of you.’
‘Don’t forget, we open again at nine-thirty on 27 December,’ Cat said, raising her eyebrows. ‘The public are going to need New Year’s biscuits and we’re going to be the only place in Chester they can get them.’
Both Adam and Clare nodded.
‘And I hope you’ve got the New Year’s Eve party at Seb’s in your diaries?’ Cat went on. ‘Friends and family are welcome too and Seb promises me it will be a night to remember.’
Adam glanced enquiringly at Sadie, who laughed. ‘Don’t tell me – you’re going to need a lift.’
Cat raised her eyebrows. ‘There’ll probably be a couple of spare beds at my flat, if you’re interested,’ she said, her tone dripping with innocence. ‘That way, no one has to worry about driving.’
Sadie was too embarrassed to look at Adam, especially when she saw Clare hide a quick smile behind her hand. Not for the first time, Sadie found herself wishing Cat could be less obvious – surely Adam had picked up the implication behind her offer? But when Sadie finally plucked up the courage to glance across, he looked exactly the same as always.
Cat took her arm as she was leaving. ‘See you tomorrow, right? Twelve-thirty at Seb’s.’
Sadie started to shake her head. ‘I’ll just be in the way. Why don’t I stay at home?’
‘Not a chance,’ Cat replied. ‘There’s no way I’m letting you spend the day on your own.’
‘Okay,’ Sadie said, giving in. ‘Twelve-thirty at Seb’s.’
The drive home was slow but Sadie barely minded the delay. Every radio station was in relentless Christmas mode; she and Adam sang along to the well-worn tunes and chatted for the entire journey. Snow began to fall as they reached Rowton, tiny flakes that danced onto the windscreen and melted into speckles of rain. When they pulled up outside Adam’s cottage, he gave Sadie a long thoughtful look. ‘I’ve tidied up. Want to come in for a coffee?’
Sadie watched the snowflakes whirl this way and that outside the window and thought she knew how they felt; the temptation to say yes to Adam was almost more than she could resist but at the same time, her mind was full of Lissy and getting home.
She cast an anguished look at the clock on the dashboard and sighed. ‘I can’t today. Sorry.’
He nodded, a smile of understanding pulling at his lips. ‘Another time, then.’
An awkward silence began to form. Sadie reached into the back seat of the car and retrieved a gift-wrapped box exactly the same size and shape as a Smart Cookies gift box. ‘Merry Christmas. I think you can probably guess what it is – even my parents got them this year.’
Adam smiled. ‘Believe it or not, I’ve never actually eaten one of your biscuits. So thank you – I’ll enjoy every bite.’ He pulled out a badly wrapped present that looked a lot like a glass jar from his bag. ‘Merry Christmas to you too.’
She shook her head in warm-cheeked delight as she took it. ‘You shouldn’t have.’
He shrugged. ‘Don’t get excited. I’m afraid this won’t be much of a surprise, either.’
Sadie tipped her head. ‘It’s the thought that counts,’ she said, and twisted around to plant a kiss on his cheek.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then Adam slowly turned his head until he was facing her and gazed into her eyes. Sadie felt her pulse start to quicken as she psyched herself up to close the distance between them. And then, with a muffled sound that was almost a gasp, she leaned forwards and kissed him.
It only lasted a few seconds but it was enough. ‘Are you sure you can’t come in?’ Adam murmured, when she opened her eyes. ‘Not even for a minute?’
Sadie sighed again. ‘I’m sure. But there’s always Wednesday. We could leave work early,’ she said with a wink. ‘I know the boss.’
He laughed as he got out of the car. ‘I might hold you to that.’
‘Merry Christmas,’ Sadie called, as he walked up the path. ‘See you next week!’
Turning the radio up and giving in to the DJ’s relentless festive cheer, she sang all the way home.
Her good mood vanished the moment she opened the front door and saw the expression on Daniel’s face.
‘I think we need to talk,’ he said grimly, casting a meaningful look at Lissy. ‘Don’t you?’
Chapter Ten
Christmas Day arrived silently in Sadie’s cottage. There was no excited squeal as Lissy woke up ridiculously early and discovered the overflowing stocking at the bottom of her bed; no thud thud thud of little feet as she made her way to Sadie’s room, determined to share the unwrapping of all the presents her mother had spent the preceding few days so carefully packaging up. There was no noise at all.
Sadie lay there for a few minutes, listening to the unaccustomed hush. It was still dark; the day stretched ahead of her, long and empty in spite of her invitation to lunch with Cat and Seb. Another morning she would have revelled in the luxury of having nothing to do, no one else to cook for and run around after, but the memory of having los
t Lissy in Castle Court was too fresh. Besides, this was Christmas Day and all she felt was her daughter’s absence. Lissy had cried the night before, when she’d realised that Sadie wasn’t coming with her to Daniel’s house, and no amount of reassurance that Sadie would see her on Boxing Day could placate her. Daniel had messaged late in the evening to say she’d worn herself out and was now sleeping and the thought had tormented Sadie. This was how it would be from now on, she thought, as the silence weighed down upon her; every other year, Christmas Day would be spent alone, while Lissy missed her and made the best of things with Daniel. Every other year, it would be something to dread rather than celebrate.
But it doesn’t have to be that way, a voice whispered. Daniel was offering her another option; a way to ensure Lissy didn’t have to split herself between her parents. If she accepted his offer, put everything into repairing the colossal damage their marriage had suffered, then she would never need to spend another Christmas Eve listening to Lissy sob again, or another Christmas Day aching with her absence.
Sadie and Daniel had talked for hours the night before, their voices hushed so as not to alert their daughter. Daniel had been furious; angry and scared that Lissy had been in danger but more upset that he’d had to hear it from her instead of Sadie. And as the conversation had worn on, it had inevitably swung back to their marriage. Daniel’s words still echoed in Sadie’s head the following morning: You’re not coping, Sadie. I’m not coping. And more importantly, Lissy is suffering because of us. We used to be happy once – can’t we find a way to be happy again? For her sake as well as our own.
She climbed out of bed and went downstairs, trying to ignore the small pile of unopened presents beneath the Christmas tree that was much more modest than the one Lissy had been delighted to help decorate in Daniel’s living room. ‘Daddy had to lift me up to put the star on the top,’ she’d told Sadie breathlessly when she’d arrived to pick her up the week before Christmas. ‘Isn’t it pretty?’
Snowy Nights at Castle Court Page 9