by Lynsey James
The vein in Gary’s forehead grew larger and looked like it would pop any minute. He strode over to where I was sitting, his mouth set into a stern line and his eyes ablaze with anger.
‘We’re supposed to be a family-friendly store, Alice. I don’t think giving kids mini bottles of alcopop really gives the right impression, do you?’
A rogue giggle escaped from my mouth; from the look on his face, I thought Gary might spontaneously combust.
‘I’m sorry, really I am.’ Once I was sure I wouldn’t laugh again, I peeked up at him, daring to meet his gaze. ‘You have to admit, it was a little bit funny though. And we can give them replacement presents from the real box of gifts can’t we?’
Gary folded his arms and began pacing back and forth again. ‘It’s not quite as simple as that, I’m afraid. We were thinking of closing the grotto early anyway. The store isn’t making much money at the moment and we haven’t had the footfall we expected, but this screw-up was the final nail in the coffin…’
I winced at the word “coffin”, but tried not to show it. Even that simple word conjured up hundreds of memories I’d do anything to forget.
‘I’m sorry, Alice… I’m afraid you’re out of a job.’
My head snapped up and I felt my jaw drop. ‘Gary, please… I-I need this job! I know it’s only temporary, but I’ll be stuck without it. Is there any way I can stay? I-I’ll stack shelves, clean the toilets, anything!’
He shook his head gravely and ran a hand over his tired face. ‘I’m afraid not; we’re struggling to afford our Christmas temps as it is, so we’re looking to make any savings we can. Besides, I don’t think this was ever really your cup of tea was it? I mean, you were on bloody Broadway! I can’t imagine you found being a department store elf very exciting.’
I opened my mouth to disagree, but even I wasn’t that good of an actress. Instead, I sighed and got up from my seat; it was time for me to leave. Alice, exit stage right.
‘Thanks for the opportunity, Gary. And for the record, being an elf here was more than exciting,’ I added with a little chuckle.
He managed a smile as he escorted me down the stairs to the shop floor.
‘You never know,’ he said, ‘this could be a blessing in disguise; you could be lighting up the West End this time next month!’
‘I don’t think so…but thank you.’
I smiled and turned my back as I prepared to leave Fox’s department store for the final time. My shoes jingled and attracted everyone’s attention as I crossed the floor. I probably looked absolutely ridiculous, but I didn’t really care. As I took in the store’s various sights and smells and the beautiful items that lined its shelves, my heart sank. Although being an elf had been the job from hell, I would be really sad to not have a reason to visit Fox’s every day.
I was so engrossed in looking around my now former workplace that I didn’t notice someone coming through the revolving doors. With just a split second to spare, I managed to avoid a full-on collision by swerving out of the way. The man heading towards me was too distracted to notice; his phone was wedged between his ear and his shoulder as he hissed replies to whoever was on the other end. As he passed me, his shoulder bumped mine, knocking my bag to the floor.
‘Hey!’ I yelled, hoping to draw his attention to the fact he’d just bumped into me without saying sorry.
All I got for my trouble was a vague wave in my direction as he continued his argument and made his way towards the back of the store. My gaze followed his bottle-green tartan jacket and russet-brown hair until he disappeared from view. I hoped the person he was on the phone to was giving him hell.
Outside the store, I found Frank sitting in his stained and grubby Santa costume, minus his beard. His eyes were firmly fixed to the pavement and he was taking swigs from a bottle of whisky while picking at his once-white fluffy cuffs.
‘You too eh?’ He grunted out a hollow chuckle and patted the pavement next to him. ‘There’s room for a little’un if you fancy joining me?’
I paused for a second, unsure of what to do. The way I saw it, I had two choices: I could keep walking and stay in the little bubble of loneliness I’d carefully crafted over the last three years, or I could take a minute to talk to someone who was just as down on his luck as I was.
I chose the latter and crouched down next to Frank, who was just finishing off the remainder of his whisky.
‘Yup,’ I replied, ‘me too. Gary said the store isn’t making enough money or getting enough customers, so they were thinking of closing the grotto early anyway. I don’t think seeing little kids running round with pairs of edible knickers helped though!’
Frank let out a throaty laugh that was closely followed by a wheezing cough. He picked up his bottle, remembered he didn’t have any more and discarded it with a disappointed sigh.
‘Nope, probably not. Having a Santa who’s either drunk or hung-over probably didn’t create a very good impression either,’ he said with a sad smile. ‘So what’s next for you? We worked together for two whole weeks and I don’t think we even said two words to each other.’
I blushed as I realised I hadn’t been the most forthcoming of people to work with. I had my reasons, of course, but Frank wasn’t to know that.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘I tend to keep myself to myself these days. The last few years have been… Well they haven’t been easy. I’m not really sure what’s next for me. What about you?’
‘Back to doing what I was doing before, probably. Sitting in my flat with my best friends Jack and Daniels, passing the time away. What a life eh? Can’t you go back to what you were doing before?’
Lying in bed crying because I lost the man I love and life is shit without him? Yup, sounds good to me.
‘Not really,’ I admitted, ‘I don’t really want to go back to that.’
He put a hand on my shoulder and smiled. ‘You’ll find your way; people like you always do. It’s people like me who tend to slip through the cracks…’ He trailed off, as though he was lost in his own thoughts. ‘My own fault though. Anyway, you don’t want to be wasting your time talking to an old drunk like me. Go on, off you go.’
He waved a dismissive hand and picked up his empty whisky bottle again. Reluctantly, I took it as my cue to leave; I didn’t want Frank to be alone, but he’d made it clear he was happy with his own company.
‘Have a good Christmas,’ I said as I walked away. He raised his bottle in reply before pulling himself to his feet and stumbling off in the opposite direction.
I sighed as I watched him go; it seemed like the most wonderful time of the year was steadily growing worse.
Frank’s question stayed with me as I trudged off towards home: what’s next for you?
Knowing me, it’d be holing up in my little cottage and keeping the world at bay, like I always did. One thing was for certain: I’d be going nowhere near the Silver Bells Theatre or their bloody pantomime.
Absolutely not.
Chapter Four
Never one to mind her own business, Mum was quick to come up with lots of ideas for my newly acquired free time. She came over to my cottage that night, armed with suggestions and bags of her trademark enthusiasm.
‘Now that you’re back out there, you can come to all my groups with me! There’s pottery on Mondays; bums, tums and thighs on Wednesdays; and bingo on Thursdays. You’d love the bingo, Alice; it’s great fun.’
‘By “back out there”, do you mean I’m not an emotional wreck who can’t stop crying any more?’ I smiled lightly, but the memories were all too real. It wasn’t so long ago that I’d been wrapped up in my duvet and surrounded by tissues, empty ice cream tubs and photos of Jamie.
Mum became flustered, thinking she’d offended me, and began to babble. ‘No, darling, I just—’
I put up a hand to stop her. She really did treat me like I was made of glass sometimes.
‘I’m just kidding, Mum! Count me out of the bingo though; that’s a bit too hardcore for m
e,’ I said with a wink.
‘Well, what about getting involved with the pantomime then? I overheard Christabel saying they’re short of performers and backstage crew. With you on board, they might be able to pull off a successful show!’
I rolled my eyes and groaned. ‘For the last time, no! When Jamie died, I swore I’d never go back on the stage again and that’s final. Let them screw up their own production; I’m sure they don’t need any help from me.’
Mum shot up from the chair and grabbed her handbag and cardigan. ‘You know, it was really hard for your dad and me to watch you crumble after Jamie died. When you came back from New York, we didn’t know if you were ever going to be the same again. I know you might think I’m interfering, but I’m your mum and I just want what’s best for you.’
‘Mum, I’m—’
‘But when you started going to the B&B’s Breakfast Club, I thought you might finally be ready to join the world again. Even more so when you took the job at Fox’s: I thought you might start to build up your network of friends again. But you’re still keeping everyone at arm’s length aren’t you? You can’t hide yourself away for ever, Alice; Jamie wouldn’t want you to do that.’
At the mention of his name, something inside me snapped. The day had been stressful enough without bringing Jamie into it.
‘Oh so I’m disappointing him as well as you, am I? Good, that’s great to know. I’m not “hiding myself away” either; I happen to like my own company! I might not be out gallivanting every weekend or doing six shows a week in the West End, but believe it or not I like my life. It might not be what I planned, but it’s how things have turned out, OK?’
Mum’s shoulders fell and the anger melted away from her face. ‘What happened to you? You used to have such big dreams; you’d never have settled for “how things have turned out”. Whenever life threw something unexpected at you, you’d find a way to overcome it or turn it to something positive. I’d really like to see that Alice again; that was my girl.’
I was sure I could hear her voice wobble and see tears spill down her face, but she sharply jerked her head away so I couldn’t see. She mumbled a goodbye and ran out the door, sprinting down the hill as fast as her tiny little frame would carry her.
Hot salty tears pricked my eyes and ran down my cheeks before I could stop them. I hated the thought of disappointing my mum, especially after everything she’d done for me. The idea that Jamie would be disappointed in me too, however, stung more than I cared to admit. Although I knew my life wasn’t exactly fizzing with excitement and a new adventure round every corner, I’d still thought I was doing pretty well. I’d dragged myself from the depths of despair and could now call myself a mostly functioning adult of twenty-seven. I had my own cottage that I loved, occasionally ventured out to the Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club, and had even dipped my toe back into the world of work.
It wasn’t enough though. As much as I hated to admit it, my mum was right. As long as I kept pushing people away, I’d never truly move on from Jamie’s death.
And this is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year, I said to myself, merry bloody Christmas to me.
*
Now that I didn’t have to don my pointy ears and massive shoes at Fox’s, I had time to go to the Breakfast Club again. As I stepped into beautiful Sunflower Cottage on a rainy Friday morning – seven Fridays before Christmas, according to a chalkboard in the hall – I felt a sense of calm wash over me. I always did when I came to the B&B; it was one of those places you couldn’t help but love. A collection of glorious smells wafted out from the kitchen to meet me in the lobby, making my mouth water and stomach growl.
‘Hello?’ I called. It looked like I was the first one there, which was unusual. What if they’d changed the day and I hadn’t realised? Just then, the kitchen door swung open and out popped Emily, one of the B&B’s two main proprietors.
‘Hi, you, long time no see! How’ve you been?’ She came over and enveloped me in a friendly embrace. She smelled of cake batter and freshly baked bread.
I nodded and mumbled a reply, not wanting to say too much in case the whole drama with my job and Mum came spilling out. Nobody would want to hear about that, I guessed.
Emily ushered me through to the cosy dining room and let me pick a table. I selected one by the window, so I could watch the snow that had just started to fall outside. It was in its own private corner, away from everyone else. Just the way I liked it.
‘It’s great to have you back,’ she said. ‘What do you fancy? We’ve just had new menus printed; why don’t you take a look and I’ll come back later.’
I picked up the laminated menu with a picture of a sunflower on the front and studied it. They’d added some new dishes since I was last there: eggs Florentine, home-made muesli and freshly made bagels with salmon and cream cheese. There was so much to choose from that I didn’t know where to start. Should I stick to my favourite of chocolate pancakes or stick my neck out and try something new?
Decisions, decisions…
My musings were interrupted by the front door swinging open and a loud voice booming ‘SHOP!’ As soon as I realised who it was, my insides curdled. Standing in Sunflower Cottage’s foyer was none other than the inimitable director of the Silver Bells pantomime, Christabel Grant herself.
I heard the kitchen door swing open and Noah appeared, a bright smile lighting up his handsome face.
‘Morning, Christabel, are you here for the Breakfast Club?’ he asked.
‘Indeed I am!’ Her voice was so loud it made the whole room vibrate. ‘Please make sure my table by the window is free and I’ll have your delicious eggs Benedict, please.’
She strode into the dining room and I immediately felt a shiver of apprehension travel down my spine. It was easy to see why she was the Silver Bells Theatre’s fearless leader; she was a huge, intimidating sort of woman with an angular face and a crop of sleekly styled brown hair. Her outfit reminded me of a school headmistress’s: a starched white shirt, grey pencil skirt and black blazer. She didn’t look like the carefree, jovial kind of person who usually ran an amateur drama group, that was for sure.
Her keen blue eyes fell on me and she approached my table like a lion would approach an unsuspecting gazelle. She stared at me for what felt like hours and I felt a chill run down my spine. For a moment, it looked like she might come over, but instead she walked past me to the table she wanted to sit at.
I breathed a sigh of relief when Emily reappeared and broke the eerie silence in the dining room.
‘Have you decided what you fancy off the menu yet? We’ve got some fab new dishes for you to try.’
‘I’ll have the chocolate pancakes, please.’ Now that Christabel’s laser-like stare had been diverted elsewhere, I felt a little more at ease. ‘Better the devil you know and all that.’
‘Perfect, I’ll get Noah on the case!’
She lifted the menu and headed off towards the kitchen. I couldn’t help but notice the spring in her step; it had been there ever since she’d made the move to Luna Bay from Glasgow a few months previously. She’d been so uptight at first, but now she was a permanent resident of Cloud Nine. I smiled; it must be wonderful to feel so blissfully happy all the time.
A memory from my days in New York drifted into my mind. Jamie and I are on the pond in Central Park, sitting in our rowing boat and swapping stories. He’s so funny that he makes my sides split with laughter and happy tears stream down my face. The sun is shimmering on the water, bouncing off the leaves on the trees. I can’t imagine a more perfect day; Jamie’s smiling as he rows and that look on his face when he thinks of another story is priceless. It’s little moments of perfection like these that I wish would stretch on for ever. Being on Broadway in front of hundreds of people was always my dream and to actually get to do it is amazing, but Jamie is the dream I never saw coming. He sneaked up on me when I wasn’t looking and I’ve never been happier…
Emily setting my plate of panc
akes down in front of me snapped me out of my dreamy reverie.
‘You looked miles away there,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘Where were you – anywhere nice?’
I shook my head. ‘Nah, nowhere important. I just let my mind wander a bit, that’s all. These look brilliant by the way. Can’t wait to tuck in!’
‘Well I’ll let you enjoy them then. Bon appétit!’ Emily walked towards the dining room door then turned back to face me. ‘By the way, it’s lovely to see you back, Alice. I missed you.’
I felt a lump form in my throat; nobody had told me they’d missed me in such a long time. Tears welled up at the backs of my eyes – happy ones this time – but I managed to keep them at bay.
‘Thanks,’ I choked out, ‘I missed you too.’
She smiled, told Christabel her eggs Benedict would be ready in a couple of minutes then went off to join Noah in the kitchen. I felt my dining companion’s gaze on me as I ate; she knew how to intimidate someone when she put her mind to it.
‘You’re Ruth Woods’s daughter aren’t you?’ she suddenly piped up. ‘Annie isn’t it?’
I swallowed a mouthful of pancakes and gulped, daring to meet her gaze for the first time. ‘It’s Alice actually.’
Christabel nodded slowly and kept her eyes firmly on me, as though she was sizing me up. ‘I thought it was you when I walked in, but you had your head down so I couldn’t see you properly. Last I heard, you were dazzling audiences on stage in New York. What brings you back to Luna Bay?’
I narrowed my eyes in suspicion as I pushed some pancakes round the plate. I’d been back in the village for three years and the reason for my return had been pretty well discussed at the time. I also knew that Christabel knew full well why I was back in Luna Bay; the reason behind my return had spread round the village like wildfire three years ago. Everybody knew exactly what had happened.
‘Personal reasons,’ was the excuse I ended up using, ‘plus I fancied a change of scenery.’
I had an inner wry smile at my little theatre pun, but kept my guard firmly in place. She rested her chin on a pair of balled-up fists and studied me for a moment. I felt like one of those stuffed animals in glass display cases at the Natural History Museum. I’d always loved the awful attempts at taxidermy.