Mal laughed, producing a leather-bound and actually very comprehensive wine list from under the bar. ‘But you should have a mug of my Kirstie’s mulled wine, there’s a double shot of brandy in every one, it’ll warm you up, if you need it, that is.’
Mal winked at Will, who maintained a steady eye contact with his pint.
‘So you’re staying up at the Pike, are you?’ Lydia turned to find herself being addressed by a woman probably a little younger than her, with a sleeping toddler nodding on her shoulder. ‘What’s it like up there now?’
‘Really lovely,’ Lydia said. ‘You should go up and visit it in the New Year,’ Lydia suggested, remembering how lonely Katy was. ‘My friend’s got two kids and she’d love some visitors. What’s your name, I’ll tell Katy to expect you.’
‘Alice, pleased to meet you,’ the girl said, smiling pleasantly before lowering her voice. ‘I think I’ve seen your friend on the school run, blonde curly hair? Keeps herself to herself, comes across a bit stuck up?’
‘No! She’s not stuck up at all,’ Lydia exclaimed. ‘She’s just really shy. If you got to know her, you’d find she’s lovely.’
‘Well, the school mums do a coffee morning at each other’s houses every other Tuesday. The next one is at my place after New Year. Here, take this lump a second and I’ll write the address down. Tell her to come along and let us have a good look at her.’
Lydia’s knees buckled briefly under the unexpected burden of the sleeping child she found in her arms as Alice scribbled her details on the edge of a beer mat.
‘So, you and Will? How long has that been going on?’ Alice asked as they exchanged beer mat and child again.
‘Me and …? Oh no, we barely know each other. I only just met him. He just asked me along for the walk.’
‘Will asked you out for a walk and then brought you in here?’ Alice looked sceptical. ‘That’s marrying talk, around here, especially coming from Will.’
‘Oh, I hardly think so,’ Lydia said. ‘He’s just taken pity on me.’
‘Fit, though, isn’t he?’ Alice said, eyeing Will’s bottom as he leaned over the bar to look at a child’s drawing that Mal was showing him. ‘All the girls round here have tried to get him over the years, me included.’ Alice sighed. ‘Never asked me to go for a walk with him.’
‘Hello, I’m Cathy.’ Lydia turned to find a lady about her mum’s age. ‘You’ve come in with Will, so how long has that been on?’
And gradually, with her mug of mulled wine in one hand, Lydia found herself travelling around the pub, manoeuvred by the natural current of the throng from one set of people to another, asking her questions, mainly about how long she’d known Will, but also making her welcome, telling her jokes, gossiping about the last person she’d spoken to or the next, and in the case of one old gentleman, finding a great deal of excuses to pat her bottom. As she settled down next to a charming old lady called Gracie, who wanted to tell her all about the trips she used to make as a young woman to a Lyon’s Corner House on Piccadilly Circus, Lydia looked across to the bar where Will was sipping his pint, watching her, that shadow of a smile edging up the corner of his mouth.
‘Sorry,’ she mouthed, thinking that intense, brooding look on his face might be something to do with her having been whisked away, but he simply raised his pint to her and turned back to Mal.
‘What I liked best about being a Wren was the soldiers, all very handsome,’ the old lady told her. ‘Kissed more than my fair share during The Blitz, let me tell you. But I was glad to come back here after the war. I’ve never seen so many busses in my life, you know. Unhealthy great things.’
‘Really?’ Lydia said, anxiously, as she watched Will finish his pint and then head out of the door. He wouldn’t leave her here, would he? Would he? Everyone kept telling her how Will liked his own company, wasn’t often seen out with a girl, was a quiet, shy sort of man, which either made him incredibly sweet or a serial killer, Lydia couldn’t decide which. Either way, it felt like a very real possibility that the prospect of making conversation with her during the mile trek back to the house might strike Will as a conversation too far.
‘I’m really sorry, I’ve got to go …’ Lydia said goodbye and made her way through the crowd, stopping to give a kiss under the mistletoe to the old gentleman who, along with the fondness for her bottom he’d already demonstrated, turned out to have a very opportunistic tongue.
As she opened the pub door, a cold blast of air instantly cooled her heated face, and she looked up and down the road. Will was nowhere to be seen, and annoyingly, having boasted about being able to find her way back easily enough, Lydia couldn’t exactly remember which direction they’d arrived from, as the village seemed to be located at the foot of more than one hill.
She stomped out into the middle of the road. ‘Bloody men. Bloody, bloody men. Drag you all the way out here for no apparent reason and then just sod off and …’
‘And what?’ Will appeared behind her, settling a sizable a rucksack on his shoulders.
‘Oh, I thought you’d gone,’ Lydia said. ‘But you haven’t. Here you are, creeping up on me again.’
‘I just went to get my stove and some stuff,’ Will said, gesturing vaguely towards a cluster of cottages. ‘Can’t wear the same clothes indefinitely, can I?’
‘Clothes?’ Lydia asked him. ‘Does that mean you’re staying another night? I thought you were coming here, to the pub, for Christmas lunch.’
‘I was,’ Will said, a study in nonchalance. ‘But then I thought I couldn’t really be arsed walking you back to the Pike and then hiking back here again. So I thought I might as well stay there as here. Makes no odds to me. And I packed my Yule log, so …’
Lydia found herself grinning, and, as she hooked her arm through his and they turned up the path back towards Heron’s Pike, she couldn’t help wondering if it was just the climb up the hill that was making her heart race.
The walk home was a good deal quieter than the walk there, but somehow Lydia didn’t mind the silence at all this time. The winter sun was already beginning to set as they rounded the last corner that brought Heron’s Pike into sight, casting a coppery pink light across the hills, making the snow-edged branches of the hedgerow glow and glisten. Without even realising it, the two of them came to a gradual halt as Lydia paused, taking in the beauty of her surroundings.
It took maybe as much as a minute before Lydia realised that Will wasn’t looking at the view; his eyes were fixed on her.
‘Lydia.’ The sound of her name on Will’s lips startled her and she looked up at him. He put down his rucksack, watching her face bathed in the glow of the molten sky. ‘Lydia.’
As if in slow motion, Will reached out one ungloved hand and touched her face, his fingers tracing their way into her hair, and he gently guided her closer to him, bringing their lips together. Quite breathless, Lydia found she was trembling as he brushed her mouth with his. At first it was the lightest of kisses but it ignited a heat that raged through her like a wildfire.
‘Lydia,’ he said again, more urgently this time, his other arm encircling her waist and gathering her into him, his kisses becoming deeper, more passionate, covering her face, and what little of her neck was exposed. ‘You are so …’ Will broke away, his rare unbridled smile, as he gazed at her, utterly charming. ‘… dressed.’
Lydia giggled and Will laughed too.
‘That was unexpected,’ she said.
‘Really?’ Will asked her. ‘I thought you could tell a mile off that I liked you.’
‘I’d hate to see what you’re like when you’re playing it cool,’ Lydia said, her mind racing to keep up with her furiously beating heart.
‘Look.’ Will paused, searching for words. ‘I’m sorry I kissed you like that, I didn’t plan to, it was just you looked so beautiful and I really wanted to. It’s not like me at all.’
‘I know.’ Lydia smiled. ‘Everyone in the pub told me all about you.’
Will shook h
is head. ‘Trust me, I didn’t expect to come up here to fix the boiler and meet you.’ He said the last word very expressly, as if he were referring to a specific person.
‘Me?’ Lydia said.
‘Yes, you, the girl I can talk to without thinking about it, the girl I want to talk to. The one whose smile makes me want to kiss her, the woman who looks so incredible wearing nothing much more than a jumper that it put me in a right awkward position …’
‘Oh!’ Lydia’s eyes widened. ‘Oh.’
‘Yeah, you. Bloody hell, Lydia I don’t do this sort of thing. Talking to girls, kissing them, at least not until I’ve known them for about a decade. But there’s something about you, Lydia, that makes me want to … to build a house for you.’
Lydia stared at him, unable to speak, her breath crystallising in the air around her.
‘It’s too soon.’ Will looked stricken. ‘I should have known, you’ve only just finished with Stephen. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I mean, just because I … doesn’t mean that you … Fuck. I’m sorry. Listen, let’s just forget it ever happened.’
Before Lydia could move, let alone speak, Will swung his rucksack onto his shoulders, and began marching down the drive towards the house, leaving her rooted to the spot, unable to quite fathom just exactly what had happened.
Chapter Fourteen
‘Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse …’
Lydia stopped outside the living room door, listening to the sound of Jim reading to the children.
‘Are there mouses in our house?’ Tilly asked him rather anxiously.
‘No, sweetheart,’ she heard Jim say. ‘And not likely to be, either, and Vincent is a very rare breed of mouse-hunting hound, and they are all scared of him.’
‘Good,’ Tilly said.
‘There are spiders, though,’ Jake said. ‘There’s one at the bottom of your bed the size of my head.’
‘Dad!’
Pushing the door open, Lydia found that Jim and the children were the only ones in the cosy room, with Vincent curled up at Jim’s feet. She noticed two knitted red and white stockings hanging above the fireplace.
‘Father Christmas is coming tonight,’ Tilly told Lydia, clenching her fists with barely containable excitement.
‘I’m getting an Xbox,’ Jake said.
‘Possibly, or possibly something even better,’ Jim said carefully, winking at Lydia. ‘So how was your walk?’
‘Good. Did you see where Will went?’
‘I sent him to find the girls; they are present wrapping in the kitchen. Katy’s more or less refused to move from beside the Aga in case it goes into decline. I think she might sleep on it tonight. Stephen’s been in his room most of the day, Alex’s been putting her feet up and bossing David; and Joanna and Jackson went out for a walk. I think she was a little put out that foxy Will asked you out.’
‘He didn’t ask me out.’ Lydia blushed as she remembered how expertly Will had kissed her, not with the panache and Hollywood style that Jackson employed, but with something more real. ‘We just went for a walk, that’s all. It was nice.’
‘Well, I’m trying to get these two to settle down to something calmer than fever pitch so that when they go to bed they won’t be bouncing off the walls. Because,’ he said, looking from one child to the other, ‘Father Christmas doesn’t come if you’re awake.’
‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ Lydia said, listening to Jim begin to read again as she walked up the hall.
‘The stockings were hung with the greatest of care,
In the hope that St Nicholas would soon be there …’
‘Who’s St Nicholas? I don’t want him, I want Father Christmas!’
Katy, Alex and the Calor gas stove were all in the kitchen, but Will was nowhere to be seen.
‘Ah, the wanderer returns,’ Katy said. ‘How was your walk with Will?’
‘What do you mean?’ Lydia asked her, defensively.
‘I mean, how was your walk. With Will?’ Katy raised an eyebrow. ‘Touchy!’
‘We just went for a walk,’ Lydia said. ‘What is all the fuss about?’
‘You tell me.’ Katy grinned. ‘All I know is that Will came in here, dumped that on the table and then went out to the boathouse for a smoke.’
‘The boathouse?’ Lydia knew she wanted to talk to Will, to see him again as soon as she possibly could, because if she could see him standing in front of her she might be able to make sense of some of what she was feeling. But there was no way she could run off to the boathouse now and ever live it down. ‘Irish coffee, anyone?’
‘Give her a break,’ Alex said, curling ribbon ferociously with a pair of scissors. ‘Let the corpse of her and Stephen’s relationship cool a little bit before you start trying to fix her up with the help.’
‘I’m just saying, it would be great if Lydia had a local love interest. She’d visit all the time, then, and I wouldn’t be so lonely.’
‘You know what you should do,’ Lydia said, heaping coffee into a cafetière. ‘Next time Jim goes to the pub, go with him and take the kids. I’ve met about twenty people today, and they wanted to know all about you. I even got you an invite to a local mums group.’ She handed Katy the beer mat with Alice’s number on it and explained about meeting her, omitting Alice’s less than flattering first impression of Katy. ‘Everyone seemed really friendly. You’ve got to get out there, Katy, make a bit of an effort. I bet you’d make loads of friends in no time.’
‘Maybe,’ Katy said cautiously, but she pinned the beer mat to the fridge with one of the assortment of magnets that lived there. ‘I’m just worried they might all club together and burn me in a wicker man.’
‘They only do that to virgins,’ Alex said, her face suddenly contorting in pain.
‘Braxton Hicks again?’ Katy asked her. Alex nodded. ‘They seem very strong, Alex. Should I call NHS Direct?’
‘What are they going to do, deliver the baby down the phone line?’ Alex asked her, her expression relaxing as the pain eased. ‘Look, this one isn’t due for weeks. And it says in my book that Braxton Hicks can be really strong. Besides, I don’t feel like I’m in labour. I mean, I’d know, wouldn’t I? If I was? There’d be screaming, and amniotic fluid everywhere.’
‘I don’t know, they sent me home four times with Jake,’ Katy said. ‘I had to beg them to let me stay in the end.’
‘Look, I’m fine now,’ Alex said, getting up, spreading her arms and waggling her fingers to emphasise her point. ‘So let’s just get on with wrapping, shall we?’
‘Don’t forget, that pile has to be wrapped in the potato print paper, and that pile in the shop paper,’ Katy said. ‘I swear I’ve spent double on them this year, since the paper obsession started. I don’t want them thinking Father Christmas doesn’t bring them their dream present, and I don’t want them thinking that Mummy and Daddy haven’t got them anything.’
‘In my day, we got an orange and a piece of coal and were grateful,’ Alex said, so seriously and so untruthfully that everyone burst out laughing.
‘There you are.’ Joanna appeared in the doorway, dressed in a luxurious charcoal-coloured mohair sweater, her hair falling in glorious coppery curls.
‘What do you mean: there we are? We’ve been here, prepping vegetables and rolling tiny sausages in bacon all day. It’s you and Lyds who’ve been swanning around, out and about,’ Alex said, a touch resentfully. ‘Just because I’m the only one who couldn’t run fast enough to escape the clutches of Martha Stewart over there.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Joanna tipped her head to one side and looked Lydia up and down. ‘How was your walk? Was the scenery invigorating?’
‘Bloody hell!’ Lydia said. ‘It was just a walk!’
‘Are you sure?’ Joanna teased her. ‘I think he’s got designs on you and, after all, you’re single now, so why not?’
‘Because her ex-boyfriend is still somewhere in this
house and, contrary to popular belief, she is not a total slut?’ Alex sighed heavily, as she dropped another present on the pile. ‘Oh, hang on, I can’t remember if I wrapped that in the right paper.’
‘I’m not saying rub his nose in it, I’m just saying if he’s interested don’t let the grass grow.’ Joanna grinned. ‘Take Jack and me, since we’ve been together I’ve kept him busy, really, really busy, so he hasn’t had a moment to have second thoughts.’ Alex and Lydia exchanged brief glances.
‘Lucky you,’ Katy said. ‘This morning was the first time I’ve had sex in weeks. If Jim’s not snoring his head off on the sofa, he’s flat out as soon as his head touches the pillow. It’s not like I miss the sex, so much. It’s the kissing. There really is nothing like a good kiss …’
‘Must be something in the air,’ Joanna said, peering at Lydia. ‘Is that stubble rash, Lydia? You look suspiciously like you’ve been kissed by an unshaven northern man.’
‘What? Where?’ Lydia ran to peer at her reflection in the stainless steel breadbin. ‘There’s nothing.’ Joanna and Katy dissolved into schoolgirl giggles, which billowed into gales of laughter as Will returned from the boathouse. He stood in the doorway for a second, glancing first at Lydia, then at the hysterical women and then at the Calor gas stove. And then he went back out of the door again.
‘Poor man,’ Alex said. ‘Go and fetch him in, someone, before he freezes to death. And you two, stop laughing. Anyone would think this was Christmas.’
Lydia found Will leaning against the wall, staring up at the wonderfully clear sky, all the secrets of the universe laid out above them, so close that you almost felt you could take a single step and walk among the stars.
‘I’m sorry,’ Lydia said, approaching him cautiously. ‘I didn’t react very well, back then when we … It’s not that I didn’t react; it’s just that I couldn’t. I was so surprised … I thought you thought I was a bit silly.’
‘I do think you’re a bit silly,’ Will said, without looking at her. ‘Weird thing is, I like it.’
The Night Before Christmas Page 19