by SL Beaumont
“I have to go back up to London tomorrow for the day to do some studio work, but I thought we could hang out tonight,” he replied.
“I’d love to. But I need to help decorate the tree first,” she replied, leading him into the sitting room, where Ellie was issuing instructions as to the placement of the large Christmas tree.
The next two hours were spent decorating the tree. By the time they had finished, Ellie’s sitting room had been transformed into a beautiful homage to Christmas. Stephanie had chosen a red and gold theme for the tree from the enormous box of decorations that Ellie had tucked away in a cupboard under the stairs. The tree stood tall and straight, nearly to the ceiling. Stephanie attached the decorations evenly, red and gold baubles of varying sizes graduating from smaller near the top to large at the bottom. She stood on a stepladder and draped strings of tiny lights around and around the tree. She flicked a switch and watched with delight as the little white lights flickered on and off at varying intervals. She positioned a row of red column candles along the mantelpiece above the ornate fireplace and placed clusters of smaller candles either side of the firebox. James brought in several armloads of firewood from the shed outside and filled up two large cane baskets, adding more to stoke the fire which had been burning all day.
Whilst Ellie was repositioning photos on top of the grand piano, Stephanie unpacked a box of crystal Christmas ornaments, admiring each as she carefully pulled it from its wrapping—a snowman, Santa, elves, reindeer, a miniature church, a Nativity scene, and many others.
“These are beautiful, Grandma,” she commented setting them among the photos.
Ellie smiled. “I have been collecting them since I was a little girl.”
Stephanie stood back to admire the room. She reached into another box labelled ‘Christmas Decorations Number 4’ and found around a hundred little glass tea-light holders. She grouped them on each of the side tables scattered around the sofas and armchairs in the large room, placing a candle in each.
“This is going to be beautiful in the evenings, when everything is lit,” she said.
Ellie put her arm around Stephanie’s waist and kissed her cheek. “It already is. Thank you, my darling. I am getting a little old to decorate it this beautifully. Now would you two like something to eat before you go out?”
* * *
After dinner Stephanie and James drove to the Smuggler’s Inn to meet other friends who had returned to Carlswick for the holidays. The Smuggler’s Inn was one of the oldest buildings in the village with a sign that read ‘Since 1550’ hanging above its low Tudor doorway. The flowering hanging baskets and window boxes of the summer had been replaced with Christmas baubles and lights. Tiny decorated trees with sparkling lights twinkled in each window and the words ‘Merry Christmas’ had been stencilled onto the glass. The front section of the inn was a traditional old style English pub with a low ceiling and plenty of dark stained wood. At the rear an extension had been added which housed a stage and dance floor.
The other members of The Fury and their friends had gathered around a large table at one side of the front room.
“I love this place. These guys were so good letting us play here when we were starting out,” James said as they crossed the room to join them.
“Hey, I didn’t know they let famous rock stars into this pub,” Stephanie teased as she sat down opposite a good-looking dark skinned guy.
“Yeah, just don’t tell anyone—it’s about the only place that we get left alone now,” Dave replied, fiddling with the multiple studs and rings lining his earlobe.
“Really? I was joking, but are you getting recognised everywhere now?” Stephanie asked, glancing at James.
He shrugged. “A bit.”
“A lot,” Dave corrected. “Especially if you are the ‘hot’ guitarist. The girls don’t wanna know a mere keyboard player.” He tossed his short dark dreadlocks as he feigned a hurt look.
James choked on his laugh. “Do you really want me to tell everyone about the girl you were with in Hamburg or the one in Amsterdam or the two in Edinburgh?” he threatened.
Dave laughed. “Touché.”
“What’s this about girls?” Jack, The Fury’s spike-haired drummer had just returned from the bar in time to catch the end of the conversation. He slid onto the bench beside Stephanie. “Stephanieeee,” he said by way of greeting before planting a loud, wet kiss on her cheek. He leaned past her and wiggled his eyebrows at James, who glared at him in return.
“Just hearing about Dave’s European conquests,” she replied, smiling at Jack.
“Ah. Y’know, they all felt sorry for him. It must be hard being the ugly one. I keep telling him that chicks don’t like all those piercings,” Jack said.
“At least I got some action. Jack is such a sweat dog after a show that no one wants to come near him until he’s hit the shower,” Dave retorted.
Jack threw a beer coaster at him. “I could tell you some stories about those showers, but there are ladies present.”
James looked around the room. “Where’s Liam?” he asked, looking around the pub for the band’s lead singer.
“He’s found love,” Dave said rolling his eyes. “Yet again.”
James snorted.
“He’s still up in London, hangin’ out at some girl’s flat. We’re meeting him at the studio tomorrow,” Andy said, joining in the conversation.
James went to the bar to buy the next round of drinks and Andy leaned across the table to get Stephanie’s attention.
“I was hoping to see you. Y’know we’re playing two nights at The Roundhouse with The Angels & Rockers before Christmas and two nights in the week leading up to New Year?” Andy said. “You should come and hang out with Anna. They will be wrapping her latest movie any day now and I know she misses you.”
“I miss her too,” Stephanie replied. “We spent so much time together whenever I came out from New Zealand to stay with Dad, but I haven’t seen her since uni started.” She paused. “So are you two officially going out, yet?”
Andy shook his head. “You’ll have to ask your best friend about that.”
“Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about next week,” James said, returning from the bar as Andy was drawn into another conversation. He placed a glass of red wine in front of her and took a long sip of his beer. He slid in beside her on the bench seat and slipped his free arm around her back, pulling her close.
“Yeah?”
“How would you like to stay with me over those couple of days?” he asked, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair off her face and tuck it behind her ear.
“At your hotel?”
“Yeah—we all have our own rooms,” he said. “Are you blushing?”
“No,” Stephanie answered. She dipped her head. “Well, maybe a little,” she admitted.
James lifted her chin gently with his fingers, leaned across and kissed her. “So?”
Stephanie smiled at him. “Sure, I’d love to.”
James held her gaze. “Fantastic.”
Michael joined their group a little while later. Stephanie pulled an empty chair from another table in beside hers and signalled for him to sit beside her. James and Andy were at the bar, deep in conversation with one of the barman.
“Hey, I had an interesting conversation with Grandma this afternoon,” she said to Michael.
He pushed his glasses back up his nose as he sat down. “Oh yeah?”
“The short of it is that I think ‘the map will be protected by the remaining two’ could mean David and Ellie—the remaining Wakefield siblings after Sophie’s death. I started looking inside photo frames that Grandma has on display, in case it’s hidden there,” she explained.
“Why?”
“She said that David liked to look at the old family photos and move them about as he got older and something just clicked in my mind,” Stephanie said.
The door of the pub banged as a new group of people arrived. Stephanie’s cousin
Matt broke away and strode towards their table. He was tall and broad, with short cropped blond hair and a crooked nose that was the result of too many altercations on the rugby field. Stephanie jumped up and threw her arms around him.
“How are you, cuz? Still hanging with the wrong crowd, I see,” he said, nodding towards James, at the bar.
She punched him lightly on the arm. “Stop it. You promised that you would play nicely, now that we know he’s one of the good guys.”
“Do we?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Yet to be convinced. Anyway, what’s up?”
“We were just discussing a treasure map that our great-grandfather found. It would appear that Uncle David has left it hidden somewhere,” Stephanie replied.
James returned to the table at that moment. “What’s this about treasure?
Stephanie explained.
“That’s funny. My brother Alex went through a phase a couple of years back, where he was obsessed with finding an old treasure map,” James commented.
They all stared at him. “And did he find one?” Michael prompted.
James shrugged. “I dunno. I tried to have as little as possible to do with him, remember. It was just after Dad died, and I figured it gave him something to focus on.” When they all continued to stare, he added. “Yeah, I know—caring and sharing—not natural, so don’t knock it.”
Chapter 7
Monday 19th December
The best coffee in Carlswick was to be found at The Café, owned by The Fury’s bass player, Andy. James held the door open for Stephanie and as they entered they were immediately engulfed by a warm spicy scent of ginger intermingled with pine and citrus.
Andy had clearly embraced Christmas with a passion. The Café’s interior was strung with hundreds of soft twinkling lights. Every table had colourful tea light candles burning in an odd assortment of little jars, and a large Christmas tree stood at one end of the counter, making access to the kitchen somewhat difficult. Rock music continued to blast from the speakers.
Andy grinned at them as they approached the counter and indicated towards a table on the far side of the room, with a flick of his head.
“‘Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows’,” he quoted.
They followed his gaze. Michael was facing them, laptop open in front of him. Sitting opposite Michael was a girl with long auburn hair. Stephanie felt James go very still beside her at the same time that Michael looked up and saw them. He blushed.
The girl turned in her seat. Victoria.
She stood and walked toward them, a smile held firmly on her face. She was beautiful. Tall and willowy with glossy hair that curled over her shoulders and down her back. She was dressed casually in jeans tucked into black boots and a black cashmere sweater.
“Hi,” she said.
“Victoria,” James replied, scowling.
“I, ah… wanted to apologise for what happened in the summer. I had no idea what Alex was up to,” she said wringing her hands.
“If you had no idea what he was up to, then you have nothing to apologise for,” James replied.
“I know, but I still feel bad.” She put her hand on his arm.
James took a step back, forcing her to drop her hand, and instead put his arm around Stephanie. “In that case, I think it’s Steph who is owed the apology.”
Victoria turned her attention to Stephanie, taking in James’s arm around her waist. She tilted her head slightly. “Yeah, my apologies, Stephanie.”
Stephanie simply nodded.
“Coffee, I think,” she said and moved past Victoria to sit on one of the bar stools at the counter. Behind her, Victoria shrugged at James, as if to say, I tried, and returned to sit with Michael.
“How long did you say you were back for, Steph? I can’t entice you into working a couple of shifts?” Andy asked.
“No way. You are getting none of her time,” James replied, joining her at the counter. He glanced over his shoulder at Michael and Victoria, frowning.
“What if I want to?” Stephanie asked. “I had fun working here over the summer.”
James glowered at her and she laughed. “I would love to, Andy, but I am afraid it looks like I will be a little busy,” she replied.
“That you will,” James replied, leaning over to kiss her.
“Oh, please. You will scare my customers away,” Andy grimaced.
“Speaking of such things, is Anna coming down for Christmas?” Stephanie asked. “She wasn’t sure, when I last spoke to her.”
“I don’t think so. I talked to her this morning and there’s been some hitch with filming and they are going to keep going up until Christmas Eve and start again on Boxing Day,” Andy replied.
“Oh, no. Hopefully I will get to see her one evening in London this week?” Stephanie suggested.
Victoria stood to go, pulling on a long dark blue overcoat. “See you all later,” she called and left the café.
“That’s an odd couple, don’t you think,” James commented as they watched her leave.
Stephanie slipped off her bar stool and wandered over to Michael’s table. “What did Victoria want?”
Michael looked up and shrugged. “Just saying hi,” he said. “She was asking about you and James. She feels bad after what Alex did.”
“Huh,” Stephanie said, wandering back to sit with James.
“Actually, Mike?” She turned. Michael’s concentration was now focused on his laptop, where he was tapping away furiously.
“Mmm?” He glanced up for a second, before looking back at the screen.
“I’m up in London for a few days this week. Why don’t you come up for a day?” she suggested.
“Cool,” he replied without pausing. “Actually, super cool—we can visit that, ah, shop, Steph,” he finished hurriedly, blushing.
“Shop?” James asked.
“Ah, Christmas gifts, y’know,” Stephanie replied, giving her shoulders a nonchalant shrug and shooting a glance at Michael. “Hey, I want to pop by the museum before it closes,” she said looking at her watch, as Andy placed two perfectly made lattes on the counter for them.
James rolled his eyes at Andy.
“You don’t have to come with me. I know that stuff bores you senseless,” she said.
“I know, but I don’t care what we do, I just want to spend as much time with you as possible over the next two weeks. Okay?” James replied.
They finished their drinks, and as Stephanie stood to put her coat on, she caught Michael’s eye. He waved one hand by way of farewell.
“See you at the Smuggler’s tonight?” Andy called.
The Carlswick Museum was housed in an old stone building at the edge of the village green. Stephanie and James were the only visitors. James wandered around the exhibits, trying to mask his impatience as Stephanie painstakingly went through a bound folder containing the local newspaper from 1914, the year that Michael had determined from David’s memoir that their great-grandfathers had found the treasure map. The weekly newspapers were filled with highly censored wartime news. She almost missed the tiny photograph and article in the bottom left hand corner of the centre page of a May edition.
Local Lads Find Smuggler’s Chest
Heart beating excitedly she called to James. Together they read the article.
Local boys James Knox and Thomas Wakefield made an exciting discovery at Calder’s Cliff last week. Whilst fishing, the boys ventured into a cave in the cliffs, and discovered a battered chest half buried in the sand. “We thought we had found pirates’ gold,” the boys said, but alas the trunk was empty. It is however, thought to have come from a ship wrecked off the coast some 200 years earlier, a local expert confirmed. The trunk has been given to the Carlswick Museum.
A grainy black and white photo of the two boys with the trunk concluded the article.
“You were named after your great-grandfather?” Stephanie commented.
James nodded. “So if the trunk was empty, where did the idea that they had fo
und a treasure map come from?” he asked.
“Family legend, I guess,” Stephanie said, carefully lifting the binder holding the newspapers and carrying it over to the reception desk.
“So there’s no way to know if the map that David found is the same one that these two apparently found,” James said following her.
“Yes, love?” The woman behind the desk looked up.
“This article mentions an old trunk that was found in 1914 and it says that it was given to the museum. You don’t still have it, do you?” she asked, looking around. “It was our great-grandfathers who found it.”
“Mmm… I am not sure. Let me see,” the woman said, turning to tap into the computer on her desk. After a couple of minutes and much um-ing and ah-ing, she exclaimed, “Yes, we do. It’s in the shipwreck room—there are a number of trunks, but I believe the one you are looking for is labelled number forty-nine.” She pointed down the hallway.
“Thanks,” Stephanie said, returning the newspaper binder to its bookshelf and following James.
The shipwreck room was jammed with rusted, broken paraphernalia; bits of petrified wood, anchors and a battered, but intricately carved torso of a woman, which had been the figurehead on a ship wrecked further up the coast. There were piles of torn nets, antique buoys, several battered and broken trunks and a strange lamp. They were studying it when the curator, a smartly dressed, middle aged woman, walked into the room.
“Hi. Annie said there was someone asking about an old chest. Ah, that’s a smuggler’s signalling lamp,” she explained. “It was held in the crook of the left arm, like this, with the right hand over the end of the spout which emitted the light, signalling a message. A single candle’s light inside the lantern could be seen well out to sea,” she explained.
“Huh, fascinating,” Stephanie said. “Smugglers were prevalent in this area, weren’t they?”
“Very. Especially by the end of the 17th Century, when customs duties and other taxes imposed by the Crown made everyday items such as candles, beer, tea, tobacco and the like, very expensive. Living conditions were hard and smuggling offered an alternative to a life of poverty. It became an exciting way of life for many, avoiding the Customs House men and the Excise officers. The local boat builders became very adept at devising secret compartments which outwitted many a Customs officer as he rummaged through cargo looking for contraband.