If Only

by Yvonne Beattie

  “It’s snowing!” I announce excitedly. “The weatherman got it right! It looks so beautiful.”

  “About time,” Joel lifts his glove-covered hand up to catch a snowflake.

  “Maybe we’ll get up onto the mountain in the next couple of days, eh?”

  “I sure hope so, Rach. My snowboard is itching to get going,” he says while doing a ‘snowboard in action’ movement, then rubs his hands together and we continue walking.

  As we round the bend towards Maggie’s address we are confronted with a stunning little cottage, set back from the road with a beautiful ivy made arch over a wooden gate that is painted white with blue flowers stenciled at the top of each pole. It’s idyllic and exactly what I would imagine her to live in. It’s by no way what I would class as an average old person’s house, but it’s quaint, very fitting with its surroundings, and immaculately kept on the outside.

  As I hug Joel goodbye, we both get a scare when Maggie loudly knocks on the front window motioning him to come on in too.

  “Ah, no, I’m not going to impose on your evening, Rach. Just tell her I’ll see you both when I pick you up,” he tries to slink away but Maggie is too fast.

  Her front door is thrown open and she’s outside like a bumblebee on a mission, “There is plenty to go around, the more the merrier!” She then stops and looks up to the sky, eyes wide and a smile forming, “Oh! It’s snowing! Oh, I do love the snow, you know. I was quite the skier in my day, these old hips are no use to me now though. At least I’ve got the memories,” she ponders for a moment looking thoughtful.

  “Maggie, come on, let’s get inside,” I take her arm and we head back to her door. “It’s freezing out here and you’ve only got on a thin blouse.”

  “Gosh, Rachel dear. You sound just like my mother, God rest her soul,” she closes the door behind her after she’s ushered us both inside. “Now, you two take your boots off over there and I’ll go and get the kettle on, unless you’d like something stronger? A sherry perhaps?”

  I can’t help but feel comfortable and at home, “I think a hot drink would be lovely, it’s pretty cold out there.”

  “If you’re sure I’m not imposing, a hot drink for me too would be great, thank you,” Joel shouts after her and raises his hands towards the ceiling while looking at me in puzzlement and mouthing, ‘sorry’.

  I smile and see him visibly relax a bit, but still looking guilty, then I whisper, “It’s cool, honestly, you’ll love her.”

  As we walk through to her sitting room I think we are both very surprised by what greets us. From outside, her cottage looks small, quaint and oldie-worldie. From inside though, Maggie’s cottage is anything but small. It’s like we just stepped through a magic portal. The presumed small sitting room is anything but that, it is huge and completely open plan with her kitchen, a study area, dining area, lounge area, and looking at the back of the room she has doors that span the full length of the wall onto her garden, which although it is dark, is lit by fairy lights along the very large garden perimeter. She has a beautiful summer house which looks like Santa’s grotto given the decoration around it. I’m in awe. It’s like a fairy tale. She has skylights over her seating area and I can already see snowflakes forming beautiful intricate patterns on them, and a wood burning stove that is belting out much appreciated warmth. Her décor is minimal which surprises me as given her age I would have expected lots of Doulton figurines, lace doily’s and carnations. Instead, her walls are painted with soft neutral colours, and she has splashes of colour here and there. She has amazing works of art that look like originals adorning her walls, elegant floor sculptures of the human form, and lots of brightly coloured tulips, which I am guessing must be fake given the season.

  “I know, I know, not what you were expecting?” Maggie breaks my thoughts and I look at her and Joel and realise he is looking just as shell shocked as I am.

  “Wow,” he breathes out. “I’m an architect by trade, Maggie, this place is absolutely amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it. Your artwork is truly breath taking. Did you do it?” he asks her and I’m stumped for a moment as it didn’t cross my mind for a second that it might be her handiwork.

  She smiles playfully and looks twenty years younger for a moment, “Actually, some of it is. Not all of it, just some, I used to enjoy sculpting and painting when I was younger, but I’m a bit long in the tooth for it these days. These fingers of mine don’t quite work the same as they used to unfortunately.”

  “Amazing, Maggie. Honestly, I so wish you had said you were still churning out these wonderful creations as I would commission you myself,” Joel can barely scrape his chin off the floor as he walks around each piece like we are in a museum.

  “Bless you, lovely boy. Now, come and sit down, you can have a nosey around after we eat,” she motions for us to take our places at the table which she has covered with selections of cheeses, different hams, jam’s and chutney’s, crackers and breads. It looks delicious.

  “Sorry Maggie, I’m trying to find words here,” I tell her as I plunk myself down at the table. “You are some lady. You didn’t have to go to all this bother, geez, it’s just as well Joel is here too.”

  “Well, I have a bit of a confession to make,” she purses her lips and looks slightly mischievous. “Marty is actually popping in past too. I’m not sure what time yet as he had something to take care of, but I hope that is ok? You see, I know I’m a little meddlesome, but I called him this afternoon and made him explain to me what happened the other night. He wasn’t overly forthcoming mind, but I coaxed it out of him because, my dear, I know he likes you. And, although he likes to play the tough guy, he is rather scared of little old Maggie here.”

  “Oh,” I hear my mouth make a noise and realise I am now feeling a bit uneasy. I had tried to call him earlier after I saw his note, but it just went straight to his voicemail and so I didn’t leave a message.

  “That’s great, Maggie,” Joel breaks my thoughts and I turn to look at him inquisitively. “I’m owe the guy an apology, a huge one in fact,” he looks down guiltily.

  Maggie leans over and pats his hand, “Don’t you worry, lad. Marty is learning to be a very forgiving chap. I’m sure you had your reasons, though I’m slightly intrigued as to what they are. I mean you bat for the other team, don’t you?”

  Joel immediately straightens up and looks at Maggie, then at me simultaneously surprised yet angry, “I… ah… Rachel…”

  My mouth is open but I have nothing to say, I clutch the table waiting for him to kick off at me, but I didn’t tell anyone, I haven’t even seen Maggie to tell her either. I wouldn’t have even if I had, he told me not to tell anyone.

  “Calm down, lad,” Maggie takes the stage front again and we both snap our eyes back over to her. “I’m old, remember? I’ve been around the block, several times. It’s obvious,” she shrugs.

  “How…? I mean, what… I mean, why? I mean…. obvious? You think he is obviously gay? I’ve known him my whole life and I hadn’t a clue,” I ask her incredulously.

  I turn as I hear a noise and see Joel has started chuckling. I look back at Maggie and she is smiling widely, “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  Joel nods. Maggie then starts telling him the story about her first husband as she told me the day I went up the funicular railway with Marty. She elaborates a bit more with having a bit less surrounding chaos and a bit more time in the confines of her own home, and I notice that Joel is just as obviously smitten with her as I am. She has this knack of pulling you in and making you feel good, at peace, relaxed.

  We chatter for a good couple of hours, picking our way through the food she has laid out and I reach into my bag, remembering that I didn’t yet give her my book and sweets.

  “Maggie, sorry it’s nothing too exciting, but I just finished reading this novel. It’s by my all time favourite author and I thought you might like it. Oh, and some boiled sweets, you’ve probably had them before though as they’re local,” I hand them a
cross the table to her as Joel lathers a hefty spoonful of jam onto a slice of cut bread.

  She studies the front cover of the book then turns it over checking out the back cover, all while looking at it like it’s the first gift she’s ever been given. I can’t tell whether she likes it or whether she is insulted that I gave her a second hand book.

  “Umm, it’s ok if you don’t want to read it, or maybe you’re not even big into reading, but it’s such a nice story, I finished it the other night and thought I’d pass it on. Don’t worry if you don’t want it, I can put it into one of the local charity shops. Joel’s sister is up here with us too and she said she read it this afternoon, she usually likes thrillers but she said she enjoyed it too,” I ramble on.

  She lays the book flat on the table and presses her palm over it, “Rachel, my sweet, sweet dear, this is possibly the best gift I’ve ever been given. I love to read, very much in fact. What a thoughtful thing to bring me,” she smiles and I notice her eyes have glazed over slightly and it takes me aback.

  “You’re welcome,” I smile at her but wonder what is going on inside her head. I feel a small lump form in my throat as bizarrely, I feel some emotion stir inside me too.

  With that, the front door bangs closed as someone comes in, presumably Marty, and I swallow that emotion quick smart.

  “That’ll be Marty, he’s ever so light handed when it comes to shutting doors,” she grimaces and purses her lips again, then stands to go and greet him.

  He opens the door to come through just as she gets there and I immediately see the love between them.

  “Hey, Mags,” he says, as he grins at her while leaning down to pull her into a hug.

  “Oh, you big oaf, get off,” she swats him away playfully while he laughs and I can tell this probably happens every time he comes over.

  She straightens herself and turns back toward the table looking quite happy, as if life is just how it should be.

  “Come and sit down, Marty. You had better hurry though as Joel here is giving you a run for your money. You young chaps eat so much these days,” she pretends to look annoyed but glances quickly over at me and I see the glitter of jest in her eyes, as I try and catch my breath knowing Marty is now in the room.

  “Hey, Marty,” Joel stands up and holds his hand out to Marty. “I’m really sorry about last night. I was drunk and well out of order. There is nothing at all between Rach and I, she’s like my little sister,” he pauses and frowns, “Which actually makes this all a little more weird, but we’re not blood relatives…”

  Marty laughs as they shake on it, “Don’t worry, mate. We’ve all had our moments. I’m sorry for hitting you,” he shrugs and sits down beside me.

  “I think I more than deserved it. Cheers for seeing me and Rach home. She told me you carried me,” Joel shakes his head as his eyes go wide. “That cannot have been an easy feat.”

  Marty snorts, “Nah, the adrenaline was running through me like wildfire, I was so pissed off. Just forget about it.”

  Maggie grabs Joel’s attention and they start chatting about art, so I take the opportunity to finally turn and look up and into Marty’s eyes, which are looking earnestly at me.

  “Rachel, I’m so sorry,” he leans towards me and takes my hand. “I really went off on one, I’ve got a bit of a temper when it comes to things I really like I’m afraid…” he squeezes my hand slightly.

  “It’s fine, Marty. Honestly, I’m not impressed with the fact that you wouldn’t listen to me, but I do also realise you were protecting me by getting Joel off of me. I just wish you hadn’t completely gone off on one. I was very grateful you helped me get Joel back to the chalet though, and to be honest, it did reiterate to me that you are still one of the good guys,” I give his hand a small squeeze back.

  At that, he leans closer to me and gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek and I feel my insides somersault like something just sprung alive again.

  “Start again?” he asks me with pleading eyes.

  I can’t help but smile shyly, “Yeah, I’d really like to.

  “Thank God,” he looks relieved. “I’ve been beating myself up all day about last night.”

  Chapter 16

  “Come on you lot,” Simon barks for the forth time. “We are going to be queuing for hours at this rate,” he grumbles impatiently under his breath, once again.

  After we left Maggie’s last night, Joel headed home on his own and Marty and I took a short drive on the snowy roads in his 4x4 wheel drive and parked up to chat some more. He apologised profusely about being so bad tempered at the bar, to which I continually reassured him it was ok; even though, deep down, I know I will be watching out for that temper again. I guess I can see both sides of the coin, but it also worries me that he seems to keep bringing it up, and apologising yet again.

  Although I was initially quite annoyed, I’m now really glad that Maggie took the liberty of talking to him and asking him over to her house with us, it definitely broke the ice and undeniably made things much easier for us. It’s not like I have an abundance of time left here, we only have another week of our holiday to go before we head back home after Hogmanay and New Year.

  I clamber through to the front door in my sallopettes and multiple layers of clothing, all ready and set to go skiing. I feel ridiculous, I look like the abominable snowman, and I am not entirely sure how I’m even going to be able to walk outside in the snow, let alone ski with all this clobber on. I haven’t skied since I was about five years old. I remember it being easy peasy then, but alas, that was twenty years ago.

  “Ready?” Bex grins at me excitedly. Her and Joel have been skiing with their parents every year pretty much since they could walk, and I can tell how excited she is at the arrival of the snow. It was their family I tagged along with when I was little, my parents are not skiers and always opt for sunnier climes when booking holidays.

  “I think so,” I answer her nervously and grab my ski jacket and bag. “There is always the café, if not.”

  Bex scoffs, “You’ll be fine. I’ve booked you into the ski school to start you off, it’s like riding a bike, you never forget. A little refresher and you’ll be as good as Jayne Torvill.”

  “Bex, I was five the last time I skied, and Torvill was an ice skater, not a skier,” I reply impatiently.

  “Well, you know what I mean,” she shrugs happily. “Honestly, it’ll be fine. You’ll be great, you’ll see,” she pats my arm reassuringly.

  “Come on then, girls,” Joel shouts on us as he jumps into the car, which has been running and defrosting for the last fifteen minutes or so.

  The steps from the chalet down to the driveway are completely snow covered with footprints carved out of them from the guys before us. I grab onto the handrail as I slowly take one step at a time. I feel Bex coming behind me doing the same but also using my shoulder for support and I can’t believe we both make it down without falling.

  Then, as we let go of one another, she instantly bites the dust, and as I almost start laughing, I feel my feet going from under me and before I know it I’m lying flat out in shock. Bex starts laughing first, then I catch on until Joel and Simon both clamber impatiently back out of the car again to get us both up and into the car. Of course, they both manage it sure footed.

  “It’s going to be night fall before we even get to the base of the mountain,” Simon moans again.

  “Give it a rest, Si,” Bex pats his knee. “You’ll be wishing we were even later after I whip your ass on the black slopes.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re all talk, my beautiful,” Simon grins at her. “You’ll be wishing you had stuck to the red slopes, or better still, stuck to looking pretty and not trying to outdo the men.”

  “I don’t think so. Let’s just wait and see,” she says competitively with a smug grin.

  “I’m sticking to the green runs… if I even make it that far,” I quietly add.

  “I enjoyed the red ones last year, the black runs are really steep and wer
e super icy I recall from last year,” Joel says.

  The roads are pretty treacherous as we head up the mountain, most of the roads have been gritted, but as we climb further up, the colder and icier it gets and I find I’m holding on to the car door handle a bit more tightly than is comfortable. I pull my ponytail out slightly to slacken it and push my shoulders back and together in an attempt to loosen off a little.

  “What is Marty doing today?” Bex asks me.

  “Oh, he’s working, he said,” I reply with a hint of a smile to myself at the sheer thought of him.

  “What does he do? Apart from help everyone out all the time,” she asks sarcastically.

  “Uh, I’m not actually sure, he said he was working and I, um… I didn’t think to ask him…”

  I think back to last night as he dropped me off and it didn’t even occur to me to ask where he works. He doesn’t know I’m a piano teacher, he hasn’t asked either. We’re not quite there yet, I suppose. I don’t even know what we talked about the other day, the conversation was free flowing and easy, and frankly, I don’t really care what he does. What I do know is that I can’t wait to see him again later on. I’m delighted he asked to see me again, especially with it being Christmas Eve. And last night, well… we were kind of making up for lost time, he is such a good kisser.

  “What did you guys talk about?” she asks, completely ignoring my swooning.

  “Well, everything and nothing, I suppose. Nothing deep and meaningful,” I answer her with a nonchalant shrug. It’s not exactly a big deal.

  “Obviously,” she frowns at me.

  “Right, get out you lot,” Joel instructs us as he finds a parking spot after slowly winding up the mountain and bumping our way across the gravelly yet snow covered car park, following the lead of another car.

  The view from the car park is beautiful, more so than the other day it seems. The whiteness of the snow somehow creates a cosy feeling with the sun gleaming through the clouds and the blue sky scattered around. Dust particles of snow in the air and lots of people milling around in their multi-coloured ski gear. I can’t help but get excited to head up the mountain.