Runaway Christmas

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Runaway Christmas Page 3

by Swati Sharma


  “I’ll be down in the cafe,” he said as he walked towards the stairs. Shutting the door, I leaped towards my suitcase and pulled out an emerald green sweater and a pair of jeans. It took me just a couple of minutes in dressing up. Wearing my Vans, I reached for my parka, flanked it over my shoulders in a stylish way and made my way to the cafe. While I had decided to stay and have some time off, I wanted to do it in style.

  Living in London had diminished my IQ to the dangerous level. How could I forgot that wearing Vans in knee deep snow was just the easiest way to get the frostbite and it’s not London where you can just throw your jacket over your shoulders and would be good to go. It’s Sprinklefield where even wrapping yourself in the thickest layers won’t save you from the chill down your spine. It was not snowing right now but the icy cold winds had numbed my senses. The village square was merely ten-minutes walking distance from the B&B but only after first few steps, my toes had started to hurt and despite zipping up my jacket, I was feeling cold. Today the temperature had drastically dropped compare to yesterday.

  “Are you ok?” Connor asked as he noticed that I was struggling to walk or to breath or to just being on my toes.

  “Nope” I snapped. I was not at all ok. In fact, I was far from it.

  “I think we should go back. It’s getting windy and you are looking very pale. Maybe we can come back later” he looked at me with concern and when I didn’t reply because I was simply too numb to react, he pulled me closer and wrapped his arm around me as a gesture to warm me up. Suddenly I felt the urge to snuggle in his arms. Though it won’t be right, there was something about him which was making it impossible for me to stay back from touching his face or running my fingers through his thick manes. I willed my wandering mind to not think about it and to concentrate on getting somewhere warmer, probably warmer than his arms. Honestly, it was nice of him to try to provide me some heat by keeping me close to his body but it wasn’t actually helping.

  “Maybe you are right. I don’t want to be out here even for a second longer” as soon as the words tumble out of my mouth, Connor held me by the elbow and helped me walk faster towards the B&B. The flurry had started.

  Chapter Five

  As we reached the B&B, there was the swarm of people gathered right outside its entrance. First I thought that people were trying to take the shelter from the rain and snow but as we moved closer, I noticed the commotion. There was an old man lying right on the steps of the hotel and was wailing in pain while Martha and Charlie were leaning over him and others were trying to help him get on his feet. But as someone touched him, he screamed in pain. Connor let go of my arm and rushed towards the man.

  “Jesus, how did you fall?” he knelt on the floor and asked everybody to step back. “Pete, help me!” he asked a young boy who was standing there and was on the verge of crying. Pete rushed towards the man lying on the steps and helped Connor to get him on his feet. The man cried but managed to get up. Connor and Pete held his shoulders from either side and took him inside the hotel while the man kept on screaming and cursing the rain. Martha and Charlie trailed them to the couch in the reception whereas the crowd dispersed and picked their way through the fast falling flurry. Once they cautiously helped the old man to the couch, Connor pulled out his phone from his jacket and called the doctor. Martha’s face had drained of any color.

  “Are you ok?” Charlie took the seat next to the old man.

  “I think I have hurt my back!” the old man replied. “Bloody rain made the stairs slippery and I slipped,” he said as he rested his head on the couch and closed his eyes. He was soaking wet and by the look on Martha’s face, she was not only worried about him but also about her couch.

  “I have called the doctor. He would be here in a while” Connor kept his phone back in his pocket and came back to the old man. “Do you think we should take you to the hospital?” he took his palm in his hands and asked him politely.

  “Don’t worry, I will be fine. Can you put on the fire? I am freezing!” he asked Connor. As he went to light the fire, Martha offered to make the nutmeg tea and asked Pete to accompany her. On way to the kitchen, I heard her babbling about not knowing where anything in the kitchen was. Later Connor told me that the old man was Jack Stuart, apparently, the chef at the cafe and Pete had recently joined him and was learning to bake and cook under his guidance.

  Twenty minutes later, by the time doctor had arrived; Jack had had two cups of tea and couple of Advil. “He has strained his back, there is spasm. I would suggest him to take the rest for a week or so and use cold and hot pack alternatively. I have also prescribed few medicines but the most important thing is rest” he looked sternly at Jack. “How many times have I asked you to take it slow Jack? You are not getting any younger” he eyed him over the rim of his spectacles.

  “I am alright” Jack waved his hand in the air as a way to dismiss the concern and tension in the room and as he tried to get on his feet, he winced in pain.

  “Easy boy!” Connor leaped towards him and signaled Pete for help. With a lot of struggle and great difficulty, they managed to help Jack to the room next to the staircase which Martha suggested should be his abode for now because the weather was getting worse and there was no way that anyone could drive him back to his home which was thirty minutes from the B&B. Charlie brought the fresh pair of his clothes for Jack from his room next to the reception area and asked Connor to help him change. He politely asked all of us to leave the room.

  Martha asked Pete to take charge of the kitchen because the Cafe was filling fast and they hadn’t served anyone in last hour. It’s a small village with a closely knit community and every customer who came to the cafe asked about Jack first and then placed their order. I was surprised that how fast the news could spread in the area. Though everyone was ok to wait as they knew that currently, almost everyone in here except the two waiters was tending to Jack and people over here were quite patient, now they were getting agitated. If it would have been London, people would have wreak havoc for the delay in service. But Sprinkerfield was not like London, it might have been brutally cold in temperature but the atmosphere was warm with love and care.

  “I can’t take the charge of the kitchen” Pete muttered under his breath.

  “What? Why?” Martha touched his hand softly. The crease on her forehead had intensified.

  “I have just started to learn. I can’t even make the sausage without burning it at least once. How can I take the charge of the Kitchen?” I swear he was on the edge of breaking down.

  “Umm....don’t say that Pete. I trust you. Jack told me just another day that you are such a great help to him and you make the best sandwiches in the town” as Martha said it, it was more like she was assuring herself instead of Pete but he was not having it. His body was visibly shaking and I could see tension mounting on Martha. She slightly craned her neck to have a good view of the Café “this is the best time of the year for business” she muttered and looked back desperately at Pete.

  “I am sorry but I can’t do it Martha. I am too new for this” he pleaded. Martha looked crestfallen. “I would have mended the kitchen myself but then who would take care of the reception? You know that Charlie has issues with his lungs or I would have asked him to mend the reception” she said.

  “Err....If you don’t mind, I can help” I said in small voice. I could feel the tension rising in the cafe; people were getting restless for warm coffee and food.

  “How can you help dear?” Martha drifted her gaze from Pete to me. She looked at me in confusion.

  “I can bake and cook. Though I have never cooked for so many people, but I can and I am sure that Pete can help me” I tried to sound positive but as soon as I said it, I realised that I might have just invited the trouble.

  “Can you?” Martha’s face lit up.

  “My mom has taught me everything from soup to pie. Though I don’t cook very often, I can definitely whip up a fairly decent meal” I chimed. True that was!
/>   Chapter Six

  As I tied the apron around my waist and secured my hair in a bun, I struggled to think about the last time when I had cooked a proper meal. Standing by the kitchen counter Pete looked at me with hope and relief in his eyes. I swear I had seen the horror flashing on his face when he realised that Jack might not be able to handle the kitchen for next few days and he would be asked to take the charge. From across the kitchen, he winked at me as a gesture of thank you and smiled wryly.

  I switched on the coffee machine and grind up some fresh beans while Pete cleaned the leftover breakfast crumbs on the kitchen top. Pete turned on the ovens, lined the tins and I had started working on the dough for Focaccia. As I mixed the flour, semolina, and yeast with a couple of generous pinches of salt in a large bowl, I had started to get excited. I had always loved baking but my job had taken up the majority of my time and in the quest of making it big in the city and pleasing my moody boyfriend, I had stopped baking because I simply didn’t have enough time or motivation to do it. But today as I sifted the flour in the bowl, the memories of me baking bread, scones, pizza bases, michettes, puff pastries, pies and cupcakes with my mom during holidays came rushing back to me and filled me with warmth. For a very tiny second I craved to be at home with her but then I was interrupted by the lurking figure by the kitchen door. I looked up and found Connor looking at us.

  “Hey” I smiled as I floured the surface before emptying the mixture into it and started kneading expertly. I was pleasantly surprised as my hand naturally found the rhythm.

  “You are good at it. It’s surprising though that a girl like you knows her way around the kitchen” Connor smiled gently.

  “What do you mean by a girl like me?” I raised an eyebrow. What kind of girl did he think I was?

  “Don’t get me wrong. I mean look at you, you look too posh for stuff like this” he fixed me with his gaze and I wouldn’t blame him for it. Looking at his creased, half hanging-out checkered shirt from the crushed pair of old chinos and unmade hair, I could only imagine how prim and proper I would be appearing to his melting golden eyes in my straight jeans, fitted pullover, and tied hair. Slowly I felt the blush spreading across my cheeks. Suddenly I had started to feel hot, though I was not sure if it’s because of his presence or because of ovens which Pete had heated up for baking the bread.

  “I have lined all the tins with olive oil. While you are doing it, I am going to prepare the sandwiches” Pete pointed at the dough which I was sort of rolling on the kitchen surface. He sliced the white bread loaf which Jack had made earlier for the lunch before his fall. Apparently, he had gone out to the shop across the street to get the cheese for the sandwiches when he slipped and fell. Though Martha was not very happy, she had to close the café for lunch. Pete told me that people would have left by now but since it was snowing like crazy outside, people had to stay back and Jenny, one of the two waitresses of the café took care of the rush. She brewed fresh coffee and served it with cookies.

  Now it’s five in the evening and we had to hurry up and made enough food to feed a small army because one thing was for sure, nobody was moving from the café tonight.

  “Can I help you guys?” I was wrapping the bowl in the plastic to set the dough aside for an hour when Connor walked back to the kitchen to see how it was going.

  “Can you bake?” I looked at him inquisitively. Was it some deliciously sexy dream or was I losing my mind?

  “Not really but I can eat” he grinned as he ran the hand over his flat belly. For some reason, I was afraid to look into his eyes in that moment. My heart was beating so fast as if I had just run a marathon.

  “We will serve you shortly, sir” Pete chimed in.

  “I am starving mate” Connor gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder before heading back to the café.

  I found myself looking longingly after him when Pete said “he is taken!”

  “Sorry?” I looked at him confusingly before it hit me what he meant. “Oh! Don’t worry. I am not interested. I barely know him” I waved my hand in the air to waive off his concern.

  “Good for you! His fiancée, Tania, is one insecure girlfriend. If she would have seen you eyeing him lustily, she would have gouged your eyes out with her claws” he rolled his eyes as he carefully placed the cottage cheese sandwich on the grill.

  “Wow! Connor seems pretty nice, wonder what he has seen in her. Glad he is off the hook now!” the words slipped out of my mouth and Pete’s eyes widened beyond belief. By the time I realised my mistake, the damage had been done.

  “Did you say they broke up?” Pete’s jaw nearly dropped on the floor.

  “I didn’t say anything” I tried to avoid looking at him and busied myself in defrosting the fish chips which Pete had just taken out of the refrigerator. “Ok. Listen, Connor told me about it last night and he had scrapped off the deal of refurbishing his cottage, for which I came here in the first place. I can’t be the one going out and about the town and telling everyone about it, so please pretend that you don’t know anything about his breakup. He will tell everyone whenever he decides to tell” I pleaded and suddenly my palms got all sweaty in sub-zero temperature. Why on earth did I have such big mouth?

  “Relax. I got it!” Pete poured me a glass of water which I gulped down in one go. “Glad they broke up. She was such a snotty bitch, He definitely deserves someone better” he actually looked happy at the news.

  For next four hours, I and Pete worked on the great batches of dough which had risen quite well, expertly setting them into tins, baking focaccia, icing cupcakes, making sandwiches, grilling cheese toasts, frying fish chips and sausage rolls and endlessly filling the coffee cups. The café was packed with the people and the entire place was filled with delicious aroma. It was ten in the night when the snowfall came to the halt; people took advantage of it and hastened to leave for their homes. One by one, the tables started to get empty. “I think you should go home, Jenny. Your father just called, he is really worried” Martha came in as we were cleaning the mess that four hours of baking and cooking had caused.

  “Oh! I totally lost the track. I’ll leave in a moment” Jenny took off her apron, washed her hands in the kitchen basin before grabbing her coat from the closet at the back of the kitchen. Pete offered to accompany her to the cab and Martha thanked him for his chivalry. Before going back to the reception, Martha told me that they usually close by eight in winters because winters over here had always been brutally freezing and full of snow and the town gets deserted maximum by this time. It sounded awkward to the ears of a London girl because back at home, people usually start to unwind by this time; they book Uber and head to the pub with their friends, colleague, boyfriend and girlfriend and don’t call it a day before midnight.

  “I’ll see her off and will be back in a moment” Pete accompanied Jenny out of the door and from the corner of my eyes I saw him placing his hand on the small of her back and she slightly leaned into him. It was such a cute sight. Pete told me during our extra long baking session that he met Jenny in high school and didn’t fall in love with her until they started working here together which was a pure coincidence. Though Jenny was working here to earn enough money for her college fees, Pete had started to work here because he wanted to become a chef just like his step-dad, Jack.

  After dropping off Jenny, Pete came back and helped me in cleaning the kitchen counter, mopping the floors, loading the dishwasher, rearranging the furniture in the café and we decided on the menu for the breakfast next day. Before he retired to his room on the terrace, he promised to meet me in the kitchen at seven in the morning. The cafe was entirely silent, Martha and Charlie had also gone to their room and I think Connor had also left when I was busy because I hadn’t seen him after our conversation in the Kitchen. For the first time in a long time, I was feeling extremely accomplished despite being tired to my bones. I made myself a cup of cinnamon tea and treated myself with four bourbon biscuits. I choose a table by the window for my midnight s
nack or rather I would say my dinner for the night. Looking out of the window, I marveled at the beautifully falling snow which had just started and gleamed like the speck of gold under the street lights. I didn’t remember when was the last time when I had a moment of quiet and silence to myself. It felt different, it felt strange but it felt good. As I sipped from the large cup of tea, I reached in the pocket of my jeans to take out my phone and when I looked its lifeless screen I remembered that it had died a long time back. I found myself wondering that how was it even possible that I didn’t feel the need of it since I had arrived here. It was such a refreshing change that not even once I had thought about the unopened mails mounting in my inbox or thought about how many likes I had got on the picture of my new Stella McCartney Ivy coat that I had posted on my Instagram before leaving for Sprinklefield. Honestly, in that moment, I couldn’t care anymore. Once I finished my tea and biscuits, I washed my dishes and switched off the lights but the café was still illuminated in the golden glow of the fairy-lights on the Christmas tree.

  As I took the stairs to my room, I realised how tired I was. It was indeed a busy day which was very good for Martha’s business but was very tough on my feet. My feet were sore and throbbing, while my back was aching. Right now all I wanted to do was to get into a hot bath. In the back of my mind, I thought about the L’Occitane’s Lavender bubble bath bottle that I had packed in my bag and had started to feel relaxed just at the thought of it. As I opened the door of my room and switched on the lights, I was greeted by the unexpected but indeed a very beautiful and delightful sight.

  Chapter Seven

  Connor was sprawled on his back, right across the bed. In my bed, in my room! The jumper he was passed out in, was twisted up around his body and showing the hint of the pale skin which practically looked translucent under the yellow lights. Such a tease it was. He looked adorable and hot. What had I done to deserve such a surprise? Not that I was complaining.

 

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