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A Winter's Wish

Page 16

by Alice Ross


  ‘Aunty Amelia, please can we hurry up,’ urged Sophie. ‘I want to show Thomas my colouring in before he goes to bed.’

  Amelia pulled a rueful expression at Phil.

  ‘Look, if you need to talk, you know where I am,’ he said. ‘Any time.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Amelia. And she meant it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Truth be told, after his meeting with the repulsive prospective new managers of the pub earlier that day, magnanimity hadn’t been the only reason Phil had gone to the hospital to see Mr Russell. After having the Dunns in his flat, sniggering over their bathroom antics, Phil had felt like the place had been contaminated – the last vestige of his old life soiled by their flabby intrusion. Not wanting to stay there a minute longer, he’d headed straight to the hospital where he’d had the pleasure of not only seeing Mr Russell looking so much better, but also of spending more time with Amelia. So thoroughly miserable had she seemed, that he hadn’t been able to stop himself offering a friendly shoulder to cry on. Completely ludicrous given he had enough troubles of his own at the moment and could do with several willing shoulders at his disposal.

  Somehow in the hospital, though, despite his dwindling spirits, he’d managed to put on a show, dredging up what remained of his sense of humour. But he and Amelia evidently weren’t the only ones with things on their minds. Standing across the bar from Phil was Stan Suffolk, looking equally as dejected. Obviously the goodwill supposedly accompanying this time of year had gone AWOL in the post en route to Buttersley.

  ‘You all right?’ he asked.

  Stan shook his head and puffed out a desolate sigh. ‘Not really, but you don’t want to listen to my woes. How’s old Mr Russell? I heard you and Annie’s sister found him in the street.’

  Phil nodded as he poured Stan’s pint. Word of his and Amelia’s part in Mr Russell’s drama had zipped around the village quicker than a bee on acid. ‘I’m just grateful we were there. Poor soul was terrified enough without having to cope with it all on his own. I visited him earlier today and he’s looking loads better. Amelia was there too. I have to say, she’s been an absolute stalwart. I would’ve completely flapped without her help. Jake said she was a bit scary when she first arrived, and I must admit, at first I thought she was a bit stuck-up. But once you get to know her, she’s actually all right.’ And she was. In addition to being very attractive.

  Stan nodded. ‘I agree. I’ve seen her a few times now and she’s actually quite good fun. See, that’s another reason we’re all going to miss you when you go. Not only do you serve a mean pint, but you take time out to go hospital visiting as well. Not that you’ll be bothered. I bet you can’t wait to jump on that plane.’

  Phil bit the inside of his cheek as he pushed Stan’s pint across the polished bar top. Apart from that short conversation with Amelia in the hospital, he hadn’t voiced his true feelings to anybody else. But, with Rachel on Skype again last night, prattling on about that bloody awful house, and how she’d seen the perfect sofa for the living room, he feared he could be nearing crisis point.

  ‘To be honest, mate, I’m a bit apprehensive about it all,’ he tentatively replied, as Stan handed over his money. ‘I mean, it’s not like it’s Margate and if you don’t like it you can just nip back, is it?’

  Stan gawped at him. ‘You’re not serious. I’d kill for a chance like that. It’ll be amazing.’

  ‘Possibly. But it’s a massive move. I mean it literally is the other side of the world.’

  ‘It’s still only a plane ride away. And the world’s so much smaller these days.’

  ‘But it’s not … here, is it?’ pointed out Phil, aware of how pathetic that sounded.

  By the expression on Stan’s face, he obviously thought so too. ‘Well, of course it’s not here,’ he said. ‘That’s the whole bloody point.’

  *

  Following her evening out with Dan, Ella had been in a surprisingly good mood. Even all the ribbing from her brothers hadn’t dampened her spirits. Despite her, frankly, underhand reasons for agreeing to go out with him in the first place – to see Jake in the pub – she’d actually had a really good time. They’d talked about all kinds of things, and the fact that he hadn’t looked at her like she’d just crawled out from under a stone when she’d admitted to having no clue about her future had given her practically non-existent confidence a little boost.

  For some reason, which she’d attributed to her two white wine spritzers, she’d felt a little light-headed when Dan had dropped her home. Pulling up outside the house he’d turned to her and said, ‘Thanks for coming out. I had a great time.’

  Ella couldn’t stop her mouth stretching into a wide grin. ‘Me too,’ she replied, looking directly into his lovely brown-flecked-with-green eyes.

  A few strange seconds of silence had then followed, before Dan had cleared his throat and said, ‘Well, I’ll, er, see you tomorrow then.’

  ‘You will,’ agreed Ella, looking forward to it already. ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘Night.’

  Back in the house, it wasn’t until Ella had changed into her pyjamas and was brushing her teeth that she realised she hadn’t given Jake a single thought from the moment Dan had asked her what she wanted to drink.

  Unlike today.

  Today was the Children’s Christmas Party at the Stables. Yet another opportunity for her to spend time in the same room, breathing the same air, as her hero. Her nerves were whirling more than the beaters on Annie’s food mixer. And at the rate Annie had been churning out cakes over the last few weeks, that was saying something.

  The back of the tearoom had been decked out with white sheets covered in silver snowflakes and stars to resemble Santa’s grotto. And in the middle of it all, on a makeshift throne, sat the main man himself, aka Derek Carter, the vicar, in all his white-bearded, red-suited glory.

  Ella had never seen the place so busy. All the extra tables and chairs they’d managed to squeeze in were occupied, while on the floor, children crawled, hid under tables, rolled about, played tag, or just sat. Ella tried desperately not to trip over them as she dished out the never-ending orders of drinks and confectionery. She was on her way back to the kitchen to pick up another load, when she noticed a harassed-looking mother, a baby in a sling on her front, and a toddler clamped to her leg, crouched down to a little girl of about four, who was breaking her heart in the corner.

  ‘Can I help?’ she asked.

  The mother gazed up at her imploringly. ‘Her present from Santa contained an empty box. I’ve told her it’s a mistake and it doesn’t matter, but she thinks it’s because she must have been naughty and now she’s not going to get any presents on Christmas Day.’

  ‘Of course it doesn’t mean that,’ said Ella. ‘Santa is sometimes so busy that little mistakes like that happen. Would you like me to go and speak to him about it?’

  The little girl stopped crying and looked up at Ella through tear-stained eyes. ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Do you want to come with me? Because I’m sure he’d like to explain to you himself.’

  The child looked at her mother, who nodded. ‘I think you should. I’m sure Santa will be very upset when he finds out what’s happened.’

  ‘Come on then,’ said Ella, holding out her hand.

  Santa, just as Ella had predicted, had been gutted when he found out about the mistake. So much so, he’d given two more presents by way of apology. The little girl had skipped back to her mother delighted.

  ‘Thank you so so much,’ the older woman had gushed. ‘I would’ve taken her myself but this little one …’ she pointed to the toddler still attached to her leg ‘… is completely terrified.’

  ‘It was no problem,’ said Ella. ‘Glad I could help.’

  ‘See,’ remarked Dan, when they were both in the kitchen a few minutes later. ‘I told you you were great with kids.’

  ‘Hardly,’ replied Ella, secretly puffing up with pleasure at the compliment. ‘The mother just needed a
hand, that was all. Anybody would’ve done the same.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have. I’d probably have made them all cry.’

  Ella laughed, before loading up her tray and re-entering the throng. She’d just finished dishing out the order when she heard a little familiar voice cry her name.

  She spun round to find Thomas threading his way towards her. With Jake behind him. As Ella’s eyes met his, her heart stuttered and for a brief second, despite all the clattering chaos in the room, nobody else existed.

  ‘Thomas at party,’ Thomas announced proudly, as he reached her and held out his arms. ‘Thomas like parties.’

  ‘Well, I’m pleased to hear that,’ chuckled Ella, swiftly pulling herself together. She bent down and scooped him up. ‘Because this is a very special party. Santa has made a special visit to see you all here.’

  She turned around so Thomas could see the guest of honour. But the makeshift throne was empty. ‘Oh,’ she exclaimed, ‘Santa must be having a little break.’

  Thomas’s blue eyes grew wide. ‘Ooo. Thomas go find Santa.’

  Ella laughed and set him down on the floor. When she straightened up again, it was to find Jake tantalisingly close to her.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, stomach flipping over.

  ‘Hi,’ he said. In that soothing, intimate tone that made her nerves clatter.

  ‘Sophie not coming?’ asked Dan, suddenly appearing from nowhere.

  ‘She’s at her friend Bethany’s,’ Jake informed him. ‘Bethany’s parents are bringing them up later.’

  ‘Dan, you couldn’t be a sweetheart and unload the dishwasher could you? Poor Amelia’s done it so many times, I don’t like to ask her again,’ chipped in Annie, also appearing from nowhere.

  ‘Of course,’ said Dan rubbing his hands on his apron. ‘I’ll do it straight away.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Annie then turned imploring eyes to her husband, ‘And you couldn’t be an absolute gem and take over as Santa, could you? Derek isn’t feeling well.’

  Jake’s brows shot to his hairline. ‘You are joking.’

  Annie grimaced. ‘I’m not. And you know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.’

  Jake shook his head, feigning despair. ‘Honestly, the things I do for you.’

  Annie laughed. ‘Thanks so much. You’ll need a couple of cushions though. You don’t have quite the same girth as our portly vicar.’

  ‘I’ll run over to the manor and pick a couple up, if you like,’ offered Ella, wanting, as always, to be involved in anything concerning the object of her long-held desire.

  ‘Oh, would you?’ gushed Annie. ‘That would be a huge help. You can change in the staff room at the back,’ she said to Jake.

  Ella’s head spun as she all but skipped over the courtyard to the manor. She definitely definitely hadn’t been mistaken this time. There had been something in that look she’d exchanged with Jake. Something so delicious it turned her legs to jelly just thinking about it.

  The cushions duly sourced and tucked under her arms, she flew back to the Stables as fast as her quivering legs would allow.

  ‘Thanks so much, Ella,’ said Annie, the moment she set foot back in the tearoom. ‘If you don’t mind taking them straight to Jake, that would be great. And can you ask him to hurry up, please. The little ones are getting impatient.’

  Ella nodded, before weaving her way through the melee to the staff room. She knocked tentatively on the door, her heart pounding wildly.

  ‘Come in,’ said Jake.

  Pushing open the door, Ella found him wearing the red Santa trousers and a white T-shirt, which displayed his toned torso to perfection.

  ‘I, um, got the cushions,’ she said, all other words failing her at the magnificent sight before her.

  ‘Great. You couldn’t give me a hand to strap them on, could you?’

  Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Was this what it felt like to die and go to heaven? Because it seriously could not get any better. Alone with the man of her dreams, and about to get so close to him she might pass out.

  ‘If I hold them on, we could use my belt to secure them,’ Jake suggested.

  Ella nodded. Taking the few steps necessary to reach him, she handed him the cushions, and he passed her the belt.

  As Jake pressed the cushions to his flat stomach, Ella, using both hands, reached the belt behind him. Resulting in her arms being practically around him. She was so close she could breathe in his intoxicating scent. She tilted up her head to him. He met her gaze.

  She closed her eyes. This was it. Jake O’Donnell was going to kiss her.

  But he didn’t.

  ‘You okay there?’ he asked. ‘You look a bit … odd.’

  Ella’s eyes snapped open. Jake was looking down at her with a bewildered expression.

  ‘Oh, er, sorry,’ she muttered, mortification sweeping through her as, with shaking hands, she buckled up the belt and took a step back from him. ‘I, er, just felt a bit woozy there.’

  ‘I hope you haven’t caught the same bug as Santa,’ said Jake, shrugging on his red, fur-lined jacket. ‘There are all kinds of nasty viruses buzzing about at this time of year.’ He buttoned up the jacket and did a twirl. ‘How do I look?’

  Bloody gorgeous, Ella wanted to say. ‘Like Santa,’ she managed instead.

  Ella didn’t immediately follow Jake back to the tearoom. She couldn’t. Racked with a crippling cocktail of mortification, embarrassment and humiliation, she needed a few minutes to compose herself. Obviously she didn’t do a very good job.

  ‘You okay?’ Dan asked the moment she reappeared. ‘You look a bit weird.’

  Ella shook her head. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied.

  ‘You couldn’t clear table five, could you? They’ve just ordered another load of stuff and there’s nowhere to put it.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, seizing the chance to do something – anything – to distract her from the most cringeworthy moment of her life. Because if she sat and dwelled on it, she just might cry.

  *

  There was nowt as queer as folk, Stan concluded, the morning following his chat with Phil in the pub. Phil’s lukewarm attitude to his imminent new life in the sun completely baffled him. Although blurting out that spontaneous remark to a practical stranger had possibly not been one of his better moves, he’d sincerely meant what he’d said to Amelia in the Cash and Carry: that he’d give anything for a fresh start. He really would. Especially one that involved endless sunshine, beaches, barbecues, no Bernie McCorkindale and – most poignantly at that particular moment – not a kids’ Christmas party in sight.

  The very last thing Stan wanted to do today – with the glaring exception of having another baby – was attend the Children’s Christmas Party at Buttersley Manor. Muttering something along those lines to Bea at breakfast, as she’d attempted to shovel porridge into Maddy’s reluctant mouth, he’d been informed that as it was his daughter’s first Christmas, the least he could do was make an effort. Stan had briefly considered retaliating with a comment about how he would’ve liked to have been involved in the choosing of Maddy’s first Christmas tree. But he hadn’t. There was no point. It would only lead to another row and he really couldn’t face it. He’d decided that the best thing to do was to try and survive the holidays with as little drama as possible.

  Precisely why he was now in Buttersley Manor’s car park, unclipping Maddy from her car seat, ready to hit the Christmas party.

  ‘Well, isn’t this exciting,’ he said to her. ‘Your very first rave.’

  Maddy stared back at him with huge blue eyes. And a protruding bottom lip.

  ‘I bet lots of your little friends from playgroup are here. It’s going to be so much fun.’

  Maddy narrowed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. Stan resisted mirroring the action. Which required yet more restraint when a familiar red Mini suddenly appeared.

  ‘Oh look. It’s Zara,’ exclaimed Bea.

  ‘Fan-bloody-tastic,’ muttered Stan under his breath.
r />   ‘Hi all,’ said Zara, hopping out of her car in a hideous red jumper with Rudolph’s beaming face and a flashing pink nose on the front. ‘How are we?’

  ‘Very excited,’ gushed Bea. ‘Maddy can’t wait for the party.’

  Looking down at his daughter in his arms, Stan suspected Bea might be exaggerating a tad. He furrowed his brow. Maddy did the same, glowering back at him.

  ‘My two are hyper,’ chuckled Zara, as her daughters clambered out the back of the car. ‘They’ve hardly slept.’

  ‘Well, in that case,’ chuckled Bea, ‘let’s go inside and get this party started.’

  *

  Despite the never-ending activity in The Cedars and, indeed, in Buttersley as a whole, Amelia had never been more miserable in her entire life. Imagining Doug’s “goings on” had been torture. Now fully aware of them, she felt like she’d been run over by a fleet of articulated lorries. Still, though, she determined not to let her feelings show. With Christmas merely days away, and everyone else in such high spirits, it wouldn’t be fair. If she wanted to wallow in misery and self-pity, she could go back to London. But she’d rather have Thomas’s chicken head hat surgically attached to her head than do that.

  From her very first morning in the village, when she’d taken Pip for a walk, Buttersley’s constant sparkle – a combination of glistening frost, twinkling festive lights, and its colourful mix of characters – had entranced her. Her life in London seemed depressingly grey in comparison. She didn’t have the strength to face it again yet. She needed to be somewhere where people cared about one another, where there was space to breathe, where she could just be herself without people mounting a heap of expectation on her. She needed to be in Buttersley. But if she was going to stay, she had to put on a brave face. Despite her very best efforts, though, the face she applied evidently wasn’t quite as brave as she’d hoped. Annie had enquired just that morning if she was okay.

  ‘You look a bit pale. Are you sure you’re over your tummy upset?’

 

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