Christmas at The Little Duck Pond Cafe: (Little Duck Pond Cafe, Book 3)

by Rosie Green

  It’s very tempting. But how weird would it look? The brand new am dram member managing ten minutes of her first meeting before fleeing in terror! It would be all round the village in a matter of hours.

  No, I’m here and I’m going to get through this. Even though I have a horrible feeling that any minute now, Ethan will pause in running though the scenes being rehearsed today, so he can introduce me to everyone. He keeps catching my eye, as if to say, I’ll be with you in a moment.

  It doesn’t help my nerves that we’re all sitting on chairs arranged in a big circle - and the person directly opposite me just happens to be Ethan!

  He’s not wearing his riding breeches today. Obviously. But he’s looking even more gorgeous in a pair of worn pale blue jeans, lumberjack boots and a black sweatshirt that is fitted just enough to hint at what I can tell are deliciously hard muscles beneath. His deeply sexy brown eyes have a slight puffiness about them today, as if last night was a late one, and his thick dark hair is sticking up a bit wildly. Although if anything, this only makes him seem more attractive – to me, at any rate - like he’s a real, flesh-and-blood man and not just a ridiculously handsome pin-up, like the posters of pop stars I used to have on my walls when I was a teenager.

  Every time I glance up, he seems to be looking my way.

  I can only hope he assumes I’m blushing because I’m nervous being among all these people I don’t know – and not because I’m remembering all the wicked fantasies I’ve been having about him lately in his Mr Darcy breeches . . .

  My heart is hammering at the thought of having to address the little group and tell them a bit about myself, which Ethan is sure to ask me to do. I rehearsed it in my bedroom earlier and it was fine – but doing it with thirty pairs of eyes all fixed on me will be a different ball game altogether!

  Then Ethan says, ‘Right, folks, I suggest we break for coffee then we can get started on the opening scene. And please introduce yourselves to our brand new member, Fen.’ He twinkles those eyes at me. ‘Go easy on her, folks. She’s never done anything like this before and I’d hate you to scare her away.’

  I smile at Ethan, grateful he’s spared me the horror of speaking to the group as a whole. Everyone looks my way and there’s a ripple of laughter. The warmth in their faces relaxes me, though, and for the first time, I think it might be okay.

  ‘Do you like flapjack, Fen?’ asks Karen, who’s sitting beside me. ‘I made some for the meeting and I know you’re a fab baker, so I’d like your opinion.’ We walk over to the little kitchen at the back of the village hall together.

  She grins. ‘Just don’t be too critical, please.’

  ‘Of course not,’ I laugh, watching her fill the kettle and start taking cups and saucers out of a cupboard overhead. She tips her homemade biscuits onto a large plate and holds it out, and I take a piece and bite into it.

  The flapjack is lovely. It’s just the right chewy consistency for my liking and the taste of the golden syrup comes through beautifully.

  ‘Perfect,’ I murmur truthfully, after a few seconds of serious munching.

  ‘Really?’ She looks anxious. ‘You’re not just saying that to be kind?’

  I shake my head. ‘No. Honestly, Karen, it’s absolutely gorgeous.’

  ‘God, that’s a relief.’ She presses her hands to her cheeks. ‘I haven’t baked a thing since school days. I’ve been so nervous about what people would think.’

  ‘You have?’ I stare at her in surprise. Karen seems so confident. But she does look hugely relieved at my verdict on her flapjack. It makes me think that maybe in stressful situations, I should try acting as though I’m not nervous at all, even though I am.

  She grins sheepishly. ‘You must think I’m mad to be nervous about a few silly biscuits.’

  I shake my head. ‘Not at all. Between you and me, I was petrified about coming here today, not knowing anyone.’

  Karen smiles. ‘Everyone will put you at your ease, I’m sure. They’re a really great bunch. Well, they mostly are . . .’

  I’m about to ask her what she means when the door opens and people start filtering in for their coffee.

  We wander back into the hall with our coffee and I notice Ethan in deep discussion over by the window with a dark-haired girl, who I haven’t spoken to yet. My eyes keep swinging in their direction as if they’re on elastic. I remember from the Pride & Prejudice programme that she’s called Cressida and she played Lydia Bennett in the play.

  Cressida is quite striking in a delicate, ethereal way, with her slender limbs and a fall of dark corkscrew hair framing her pale, pretty face. She’s impossibly slender in skinny jeans and a floral-patterned top. From what I can see, she seems to be doing most of the talking, while Ethan stands calmly listening, arms folded, nodding occasionally. I don’t know why but I get the feeling he’s forcing himself to be patient and would actually like to come and join the rest of us.

  He glances over, catches my eye and smiles - and automatically, I drop my eyes, embarrassed to have been caught in the act of looking over. But when I force myself to look back at him, my heart leaps to find he’s still gazing in my direction, despite the fact that Cressida is leaning close and talking to him. There’s a faint smile on his face and Cressida glances over to see who he’s looking at. When she sees it’s me, her lovely features harden.

  I swallow hard and a piece of flapjack lodges in my dry throat. During the ensuing coughing fit, my eyes water like mad and Karen thumps me on the back until eventually, I’m able to breathe properly again.

  ‘Are you okay?’ says a voice.

  I glance up and find myself gazing into Ethan’s mesmerising dark eyes. They’re narrowed a little with concern.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. Sorry. Bit of flapjack went down the wrong way.’

  ‘Ah, right,’ he says, looking relieved, laying his warm fingers on my arm for a moment. A delicious tingle runs through me at the contact and I smile up at him, wondering how badly my mascara has run.

  I’m vaguely aware of Cressida over by the window, arms folded, just staring at me. But basking in the lovely warm glow of Ethan’s smile, it hardly matters at all.

  *****

  I’m on a bit of a high when I leave, so I decide to call in on Ellie at the café on the way back to Brambleberry Manor.

  I need to give her the carrier full of paper napkins for the cafe, which she left in my boot last time we went shopping at the cash and carry. And I also want to see how she’s coping with the bombshell of Zak’s ex, Sophie, bursting back into his life.

  So far, in the three days Sophie’s been in Sunnybrook, Zak has apparently taken Maisie to see her every afternoon after school. At first, it was just for an ice-cream in the hotel’s café, but the visits seem to be getting longer. Yesterday, which was Saturday, the three of them went to the cinema and then for pizza, and Zak and Maisie didn’t arrive back at the flat until way past Maisie’s usual bedtime.

  When I talked to her about it yesterday, I asked Ellie if she knew what Sophie’s intentions were but she shrugged and said she didn’t have a clue and that Zak wasn’t sure either. He kept saying he was just humouring her for their daughter’s sake.

  ‘It’ll be fine, I’m sure,’ I told her.

  But I wasn’t sure at all. It was a tricky situation. I hated the thought of Ellie having her new life with Zak and Maisie turned upside down. But then again, shouldn’t Maisie have the chance to get to know her real mum?

  Driving along to the Little Duck Pond Cafe, I’m surprised to find I feel quite relaxed after the am dram meeting. Everyone was so lovely and I really enjoyed my one-to-one chats with the cast members I had a chance to speak to. The girl called Cressida was the one exception. She didn’t go out of her way to talk to me like the rest of the cast did. But I tell myself not to take it personally; maybe she was having a bad day.

  It was decided during the chat after our coffee break that I would be their prompt for the panto and help out generally with admin and costumes. A
bit of everything, really, apart from the actual acting.

  ‘Just get to know how it all works,’ said Ethan, chatting to me just before I left, ‘and then maybe one day you might fancy trying out for a part in one of our plays yourself.’

  ‘Maybe.’ I smiled at him, while privately thinking, Not on your life!

  As I left the hall, Ethan called after me, ‘See you next Sunday, Fen,’ and I turned and beamed at him, my heart tripping along with joy.

  As I drive down the road towards the café, I see Zak’s black car parked outside in its usual space, a little further down from the café entrance. Zak, Sophie and Maisie are just getting out. When I draw up and park right outside the café, Zak and Maisie both wave.

  I get out and go to the boot for the napkins. Some of the packages have spilled out of the carrier bag so I start gathering them up.

  ‘I think a trip to the theme park that Saturday would be wonderful,’ I hear Sophie say with her usual breezy confidence. ‘What do you say, Maisie Moo?’

  ‘Yes!’ Maisie shouts, probably punching the air. I can’t see because my head is buried in the boot.

  ‘No can do,’ says Zak decisively. ‘I’m in London for a late meeting on the Friday and if it runs on, I’ll probably just stay over.’

  ‘But that’s perfect!’ insists Sophie. ‘Look, I’ve got a great idea. There’s this fab country house hotel called ‘The Gables’ with an amazing pool - slides and everything. It’s near the theme park and Maisie would absolutely love it. So I could book us a couple of rooms and you can drive there after your meeting in London, and Maisie and I will join you. We’ll treat Maisie to pizza, have fun in the pool, then we’ll be right there in the morning, ready to hit the theme park!’

  ‘I don’t want to stay overnight.’ Zak sounds quite abrupt. He’s no doubt thinking of Ellie and how she would feel if he stayed the night in a hotel with his ex – even if Maisie is going to be there.

  Sophie’s right that Maisie would love it, though. I know the hotel she’s talking about. It’s got a fabulous pool for kids.

  I take my bag and shut the boot, just in time to see Sophie go over and laughingly whisper something in Maisie’s ear.

  Maisie’s face lights up. ‘Ooh, please, Daddy! Can we go to the hotel? They’ve got a swimming pool with a big slide and you promised I could go on one when I was five. And I’m five and a quarter now!’

  Zak groans. ‘You’ve got far too good a memory, Maisie.’

  ‘Please, Daddy?’ She stares up at him pleadingly and takes hold of his hand, and I really don’t envy him having to say no.

  ‘We can’t, Maisie, love. Daddy’s busy that day. I’ll take you to some water slides another time.’

  A sour look crosses Sophie’s face. Then she pastes on a bright smile the instant Maisie turns round.

  ‘Bye darling,’ she says, bending and planting a slightly awkward kiss on her daughter’s cheek. She straightens up, frowns and wipes at something on her face. Probably Maisie’s ice-cream. She reaches into her bag, takes out a compact and peers at herself in the mirror.

  ‘Bye, Sophie.’ Maisie skips over to the café and turns to wave – but Sophie is too busy checking her make-up to notice. So after a moment, Maisie gives up and follows Zak inside.

  Heading for the café entrance myself, I smile at Sophie as she gets in her car but she ignores me. Then when I look back, she’s turning her car around to drive back up the lane, smiling triumphantly to herself.

  She looks just like the cat that’s got the cream . . .

  ‘So how was the meeting?’ Ellie asks, when I go inside. It’s twenty minutes from closing time and she’s walking around with a tray and a cloth, clearing tables as the last two customers finish their cream teas. I can hear Zak chasing a squealing Maisie up the stairs to the flat.

  ‘It was actually really good,’ I say, peering at her uneasily.

  She looks really pasty and there are dark shadows under her eyes as if she hasn’t slept for days.

  ‘I’m going to be the prompt for Cinderella and help with the costumes,’ I add.

  ‘That’s great, Fen,’ she says, but she sounds oddly vague and I wonder if she even heard what I said.

  She darts an anxious glance out of the window behind me and I turn to see Sophie driving past in her red Mini Clubman. Ellie looks utterly defeated, and my heart clenches, thinking how uncertain things must seem now that Sophie is back.

  She rallies herself and says, ‘Knowing you, Fen, you’ll make yourself so indispensable, they’ll all end up wondering how they ever managed without you.’

  ‘I don’t think so!’

  ‘No, I mean it,’ she says, looking suddenly serious. ‘You’ll be great, Fen. Be careful with that Ethan Fox, though.’

  I dart a glance at her. ‘Be careful? What do you mean?’ I ask curiously.

  She shrugs. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Did he ever pay you back for those drinks and cakes the other night?’

  I frown. ‘Not yet. But he mentioned it today at the meeting and he apologised for not having any cash on him.’

  She nods. ‘Well, make sure he reimburses you.’

  ‘He will.’ I laugh to show her it’s fine. ‘I’m not worried at all.’

  ‘Good.’

  Driving back to Brambleberry Hall, despite my worries about Ellie, I still can’t stop a happy smile breaking through as I think about my chats with Ethan at the meeting. It’ll be so lovely seeing him every week and getting to know him better. I’m not stupid enough to imagine he’d ever be attracted to me in a romantic sort of way. I haven’t got Karen’s easy manner and confidence, or Cressida’s captivating looks.

  But he does seem to like me.

  I have a spring in my step for the first time in forever . . .

  CHAPTER SIX

  It’s the first Sunday in December and I’m at my third meeting of the am dram group.

  I’m getting to know the cast members and behind-the-scenes people quite well now, which is really helping to make me feel more at ease.

  Karen is playing Cinderella’s best friend, Buttons, in the panto. And the actors playing the pumpkin, and the rats, mice and lizards are all girls in their twenties. They’re great fun and often nursing hangovers on Sundays after their adventures in the pub the night before.

  Cressida is Cinderella and to be fair, she plays the part beautifully. If only she could be as sweet and kind in real life, seems to be the general (whispered) consensus.

  Ethan is directing this production so he’s not actually acting in it. But I have a lot of fondness for eighteen-year-old Daniel, who’s playing Prince Charming and quite clearly has the most massive crush on Cressida. He’s a lovely young lad and a really promising actor, although he’s quite shy. I suppose I feel an affinity with Daniel because he’s the only person I’ve ever met who actually blushes more frequently than me.

  The two guys playing the Ugly Sisters are perfect for the role. They’re both constantly cracking jokes and will have no problems at all camping it up in ridiculous dresses, massive wigs and fake boobs. Jane, who designs the costumes, is particularly relishing her work on their outfits, loving the fact that she can be as imaginative and outlandish as she likes for once.

  Another guy I really like is Mike, who’s in charge of the backdrops and stage sets. He jokes he joined the group to get out from under his wife’s feet. But it’s apparently a well-known fact that after almost twenty years of marriage, he’s still madly in love with his other half, Judy.

  As for me, apart from being ‘prompt’ for the cast and helping with the marketing side of the production – mainly leaflet distribution around the village - I seem to be hugely in demand, helping people with their lines. Two cast members in particular are always asking if I can read through a scene with them – Daniel, the Prince, and a lovely older lady in her fifties called Rosalind, who’s playing the Fairy Godmother. She’s having trouble finding the time to learn her lines with two lively grandchildren to baby-sit.

  I�
�m growing in confidence, just being with these people every Sunday, and I’m so glad Ethan asked me to come on board. I’m even starting to wonder why I was so terrified at the start.

  I guess I’m learning that fear of the unknown can be scarier than the event you’re dreading. And that the saying, ‘feel the fear and do it anyway’ is well worth adopting as my motto. I’m not saying I’m going to be Mrs Totally Fearless in future. But I can definitely sense a change happening within. I’m starting to get quietly excited about life and all its possibilities – although admittedly, these slightly breathless feelings of anticipation probably have more to do with a hunk called Ethan Fox than anything else . . .

  Today, I’m sitting with Karen and a few of the other girls in between scenes when they start to talk about the dress rehearsal in two weeks’ time.

  ‘We do the first performance of the panto for a few local schools for free,’ Karen explains. ‘And it’s become a tradition that something always has to go wrong at the dress rehearsal. The kids love it!’

  I laugh. ‘I bet they do. That sounds like fun for the audience and the cast as well.’

  She grins. ‘It is. The very first time, the hiccup was for real. We were doing Jack and the Beanstalk, and Jack’s baggy pants got caught on a stray nail and ripped right off. He was literally caught with his pants down and of course the kids all thought it was absolutely hilarious.’

  ‘They weren’t the only ones,’ laughs Rosalind. ‘We all thought it was pretty funny, too, and poor Nathan, who was playing Jack, is still the butt of all the pants jokes three years later.’

  I laugh. ‘No pun intended?’

  Karen snorts. ‘So anyway, now it’s a tradition. We always engineer an “accident” during the dress rehearsal and the kids know this and look out for it.’

  Later, when Karen goes off to have a costume fitting, I pluck up the courage during one of the breaks to go over and talk to Ethan. He’s lounging on a window sill, glancing through the script and I bring him a coffee – strong, black, one sugar, just how he likes it – and he thanks me and says I’m a life-saver because the last one he made he didn’t have time to drink and it’s clay cold.