by Katie Ginger
Nell giggled. ‘I’d love to help but I can’t afford to buy any to donate out of the business account. Not with doing this romantic Christmas escape idea. I might be able to get some out of my own money. It’s not like I’ve got loads of Christmas presents to buy and I’ve already got most of yours and wrapped them too.’
‘Really?’ She nodded and another strange moment passed between them. She wondered if Tom felt it too because he was beginning to blush, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was or what it meant. Nothing was different between them, was it? ‘You don’t need to buy anything. I’m sure we’ll think of something. I’ll bring some greenery along with me too. I’ve got some left over from the wreaths I’ve made so far.’
‘There’s an idea,’ said Nell.
‘Another one?’ Tom teased. ‘Don’t hurt yourself.’
‘Ha ha.’ But while he might tease, she’d just had another great idea to boost her business. At least, she thought it was a good idea. ‘How about we host a wreath-making session here? Not massive ones like you made me but smaller ones, and then we can decorate the care home with them? I’ll still come on Sunday and help you decorate with what they’ve got and then we can top up with some of the wreaths made here afterwards.’
‘But there’ll be loads. If everyone makes one each what will we do with what’s left?’
Nell shrugged. ‘I don’t know. You could sell them and donate the money to the care home? Tracey’s always going on about wanting to get the residents out and about a bit more, and I’m not that far from them. We can do it here in the dining room.’ She motioned around at the large redundant space they were sitting in. She really needed to get more use from it and what better way than to invite the older generation. Maybe she could convince the choir of St Herbert’s Primary School to stop by for a little carol singing practice. That would really put smiles on the residents faces.
Tom was nodding faster and faster the more she spoke. ‘And I tell you what,’ he replied, now as excited as she was. ‘I bet I could get our lovely mayor along. She owes me a favour after I heavily discounted her wreath for the town hall. It might raise your profile a bit locally and show the Langdon Mansion Hotel, and anyone else who didn’t know it already, that you’re not the type of person to put spiders in their soup.’
‘I like it,’ she replied, over her mug.
‘I’ll ring Tracey now and see when she’s free.’ Tom stood and found his mobile in the pocket of his coat. He dialled and leaned on the back of his chair as he spoke. From her place as spectator, the conversation seemed positive but there were some long silences where Nell couldn’t discern what Tracey was saying. Finally, Tom rang off. ‘Are we on?’ she asked, pressing her hands together in prayer.
The grin that gripped his face was mirrored on her own, but she still hung on until he said the words. ‘Yep. We’re definitely on.’
‘Yay!’ Nell jumped up and grabbed hold of Tom, pulling him into a tight embrace. For a second, she felt his cheek press into her own and a surge of affection shot through her body. The force with which she’d grabbed him knocked him a little off balance and she held on to his arms to stop herself falling too. Instinctively, his hands went around her waist. They righted themselves and for a fleeting moment she didn’t want him to let go. Then she remembered it was Tom and told herself not to be so stupid. Tom was blushing furiously too.
After ensuring her feet were both flat on the ground, Nell brushed her clothes down, feeling more self-conscious than she ever had before. Harry liked to remind her, she was British, and there was only one thing to do in embarrassing moments when you’re British. She cleared her throat. ‘More tea?’
Chapter 11
The clean, cold November air seeped into Tom’s bones no matter how many layers of clothes he had on. Under a pale, watery sun, it was the perfect day to decorate the care home and bring some warmth and festive spirit to the residents. They were generally a happy and congenial bunch aside from the one or two curmudgeons who liked a moan, but overall, the residents were always up for a bit of Christmas fun.
The care home, located in the middle of town, was equidistant from Tom’s house and Holly Lodge and he’d been able to roll out of bed as late as possible which he’d needed after another headache had come on last night. He’d gone to bed early and this morning, the pounding behind his eyes had faded and he was feeling much better.
Stepping out of his van, Tom shivered a little and pulled his coat tighter around him. He’d even worn a woolly hat and gloves; anything to keep him warm against the wind. As he began unpacking all the stuff for the care home – the spare decorations he had left over; tinsel, baubles and all the stuff from the shop he’d set aside – his mind wandered to the American staying at Holly Lodge.
How was a man like Tom supposed to compete in the world of women when there were men like that? Superhero lookalikes that if he stood next to them, he’d look like a weedy nerd. Nell’s eyes had sparkled when she’d seen him. A sparkle that he’d give absolutely anything to see in her beautiful round eyes, but a horrible sinking feeling told him that wasn’t ever going to happen. ‘You look so pretty today,’ he said to himself in a terrible American accent, then scoffed. He’d told Nell she looked pretty hundreds of times, but her eyes never lit up like that when he said it. And yet, when he’d caught her as they’d nearly fallen over, it felt so right to him – so perfect. Like his were the only arms capable of holding her as lovingly and carefully as she deserved. Nell was prone to flights of fancy and almost believed in the romcom movies she watched, but Tom had read enough true stories to know that sometimes, people did meet coincidentally and fell in love. As long as that didn’t happen with her handsome American guest, he thought. Tom shrugged a box forwards as Nell pulled up, parking next to him. The gravel crunched under the wheels of her car, then under her boots as she climbed out.
‘Good morning,’ she sang happily. It was wonderful to hear her so positive after the rough week she’d had. She’d always loved her life, but these bad reviews were making her restless. It was understandable, but he wished he could reassure her. Jealously, he suspected some of her good mood was due to the American. Under her giant Russian-style faux fur hat and with her flared jeans sticking out the bottom she looked like she’d stepped out of a 1970s fashion magazine. Her hair was curling in the slight dampness of the air and shiny lip gloss drew his eyes to her lips, but her face fell as she spotted the side of his van. ‘What happened to your van?’
Tom’s shoulders tensed. He should have parked in the corner next to the big prickly bush so she wouldn’t have seen it, but he’d been excited at the prospect of Christmasifying the care home and too busy finding a space big enough to open the back doors fully to think about it. ‘Oh, that.’ He kept his voice calm. ‘Just a little prang on the roundabout last Saturday.’
‘It doesn’t look like a little prang. It’s scraped right through your logo.’
How right she was. It had scared him to death, and he hadn’t slept properly since for fear of what might have happened and as his health worries intensified. The thought of the kids in the car, scared and shaken, still filled him with guilt a week later. His throat closed over at the memory trapping the fear and worry deep down in his belly. Nell ran her hand over the rough metal. He’d have to take it to the garage and get it sorted out. What would people think if he kept driving around town like that? A scraped-through logo didn’t exactly speak of a florist who took care. And Janie had been amazing when he’d got back and mentioned briefly what had happened. She’d immediately dived into his filing cabinet and pulled out the insurance details for him in case he needed to call them. Her age, cheerful demeanour and happy-go-lucky attitude belied a spot-on business sense and organised mind which had been exactly what he needed in his frazzled state.
‘Hang on,’ Nell said, scowling. ‘Did you say last Saturday? Why didn’t you say something when we were at the hotel that night?’
‘Just leave it, Nell, okay. Like
I said, it’s just a prang. How’s the hotel?’
Suspicion writ large on her face, as his tone was entirely unconvincing. ‘The hotel is absolutely fine, thank you and don’t change the subject. As soon as I saw you in the hotel, I knew something had happened. You were really weird Saturday night. You were so quiet.’ There was the slightest edge of annoyance to her voice because he hadn’t confided in her, but it softened almost immediately. ‘Why didn’t you just tell me? I could have helped.’
‘I don’t know. It just slipped my mind,’ he lied.
‘How can it have slipped your mind? This was quite a “prang”.’ She made speech mark signs in the air with her fingers.
‘Why are you doing that?’ he asked teasingly, trying to lighten the mood.
‘Doing what?’
‘Making the bunny rabbit ears in mid-air.’ Nell scowled, unimpressed. ‘Nell, honestly, it’s fine. I just don’t want to talk about it, okay?’
‘Why not?’ Normally, he’d tell her everything and not just brush it off, so he knew this was an unusual response, but he just couldn’t bring himself to go through it all right now. ‘If it was just a prang, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. These things happen all the time. It could have happened to anyone.’
Tom took a deep breath and asked again if she’d let things be. He’d been stupid not to just tell her about it. Hiding it had made things so much worse. He should have known Nell would need to know everything so she could make him feel better. Tom had an enduring love of Christmas and had been so excited this morning. Now it was all leaching away and being replaced with guilt and shame. She’d hate to know he felt like that, but he just couldn’t bring himself to open up. The fear inside him was too strong. You didn’t have to be a genius to know it was an unhealthy response, but one he didn’t have the strength to fight this morning. ‘Can you help me unload some of this lot, please?’
‘No, not until you tell me exactly what happened.’ Even though she shivered as the cold wind whipped around the sides of the van, she crossed her arms over her giant parka, defiant and unmoving. At least she tried to cross her arms over; the coat was so big she didn’t quite manage it.
‘It’s freezing out here, Nell. I’m not standing in a car park in the cold explaining again.’
‘But you haven’t explained anything at all.’ Her arms fell back to her sides. ‘I’m not trying to nag you, I’m worried about you. Come on, Tom, talk to me. Don’t shut me out. Who else was involved? You looked so pale the other night. Why don’t you want to talk about it?’
‘Because it was my fault,’ he replied sharply. As he’d imagined and feared, Nell’s face registered first shock and then unease. She’d be disappointed in him – he was disappointed in himself – and he hated it. Forcing his fingers underneath his hat he scratched his head. ‘I checked before pulling out, but I didn’t see anything.’ Tom snatched up some willow branches from the boot of the van. ‘Look, I really don’t want to talk about it, Nell, okay. I feel terrible enough as it is.’
He knew he should tell her about all the other things that were going on with his sight: the swimmers, the time it was taking for his eyes to adjust to darkness, the accidents he’d had in the middle of the night when he’d bashed into things walking to the toilet. And of course, the headaches. They were the most worrying thing.
‘Okay,’ she replied, her voice quiet, accepting the matter was closed. She moved beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder giving it a squeeze, then drew it down his back. It was supposed to be a friendly gesture but his feelings for Nell surged at her touch. He so wanted to turn around and let her hug him, but it was getting harder and harder to be close to her knowing she’d never feel the same way. ‘I’m here if you need to talk though, Tom. You’re my best friend. And I know you, don’t beat yourself up, okay? Accidents happen all the time.’ Maybe he was projecting his own disappointment onto her as she didn’t seem to blame him. He nodded but didn’t turn around and was grateful to hear her voice happy and cheerful once more. ‘What do you want me to take then?’
Tom tried to put some life back into his voice and drag himself out of the bad mood. ‘Can you bring that box and I’ll carry some of this heavy stuff.’
‘Okay. Wait, is that a tree?’
This time he found some of his Christmas spirit returning. ‘Yeah. It was on sale and I just couldn’t resist. I might need to buy some more baubles.’
‘I love that you love Christmas so much.’ She leaned gently into his shoulder and rested her head there. The smell of her perfume carried on the wind and the familiarity of it calmed him.
‘You do?’
‘Of course. I always have. It’s one of my favourite things about you.’ Lifting her head and stepping away, she said, ‘Shall I tell you my favourite Christmas joke?’
The final remnants of tension floated from his muscles. ‘Go on then.’
‘What do Santa’s elves learn at school?’
‘I don’t know, what do Santa’s elves learn at school?’
‘The elfabet!’ Tom rolled his eyes. ‘Do you see? Because they’re elves and they learn the elfabet. It’s like the alphabet but for elves!’
‘Nell?’
‘Yes?’
‘Stop talking and take that box.’
Both grinning and with arms laden, they walked inside.
Tracey was busy bustling around, settling her residents in the TV room and finding jigsaw puzzles and activities for them. It was hot with that stuffy, slightly damp warmth that comes from having the radiators on full blast, and after stashing some boxes in the corner of the room, Nell and Tom immediately began to strip away their outer layers.
‘Hello, you two,’ said Tracey. ‘We’re all really looking forward to this, aren’t we, guys?’ A few members of staff lifted their heads and waved a greeting. ‘A bit of Christmas sparkle will cheer us up a treat.’
‘Well, you know Tom’ said Nell. ‘Nothing stops him at Christmas time.’
Putting the exchange outside behind them, he beamed. ‘Yep. Mr Christmas is here and ready to get to work.’
‘Is that my grandson?’ Nigel’s voice boomed from the corner of the TV room. Edith was sitting beside him as usual.
‘It is, Grandad. I’m just coming over.’
‘And where’s that lovely young lady of yours?’ Tom cringed. Grandad loved a massively unsubtle hint.
Nell bounded over and planted a big kiss on his cheek. ‘Here I am, Nigel. You’re looking well.’
‘Am I?’
‘Yes, you are.’ She adjusted the brown and red plaid blanket on his knees. ‘And I got you a present.’
‘Lucky me. Anything good?’ He shifted, sitting up a little. Tom found a chair for Nell and one for himself, carrying them over and putting them in front of Nigel.
Nell ran back to her handbag then handed Nigel a tin of his favourite biscuits. They were hideously expensive Italian ones: handmade affairs from an artisan baker in town. Nell had made the mistake of buying them for his grandad one birthday and the old boy had acquired a taste for them. She’d already eased the lid open a little so he could get to them easily, which was typical of her kindness.
‘I think I know what this might be. You always bring the best treats, Nell.’ He opened the box and sniffed in the delicious scent of the almond biscuits.
‘Hey!’ said Tom. ‘I’d like to remind you that I smuggled in your favourite sherry last year.’
‘Tracey found that within two minutes of it being on the property, boy,’ Nigel said with a grump. ‘She put me on more stingy rations than I had in the war. I think there’s still some left actually.’
‘I did not,’ Tracey shouted, coming over and pausing with her hands on her voluminous hips. ‘Cheeky devil. I let you have more than was good for you.’
‘I’m 87, what’s the point in being good?’ Though his eyes were cloudy and unseeing, there was still a life to them that spilled out encouraging those around him to feel the same way.
‘Tom,’ Tracey continued, ‘I’ve added our decorations to your pile, but we haven’t got much. I’m a bit worried the rest of the place is going to look like a bit of a poor effort.’
‘Not by the time I’m done,’ Tom replied. ‘This isn’t even half of what I’ve got in the van. And I brought a tree. It’s a fake one, but it’s nice and big and I thought it’d go well in the TV room. There’s plenty of stuff for everywhere else.’ He pointed to the boxes they’d brought in so far and Tracey’s eyes lit up.
‘Let’s crack on then, shall we?’
With a sweet peck on Grandad’s cheek, Nell followed Tom, leaving Nigel to enjoy his biscuits. The decorating began and Tracey put on a CD of Christmas songs on the old stereo in the corner of the room. Tom glanced at Nell from time to time and was pleased to see her enjoying herself. There were one or two moments when he caught her looking at him, but his heart didn’t sing at the idea. He knew it was only because she was worried after the car accident.
After decorating the TV room with a beautiful garland over the fireplace, paper chains made with the residents hanging across the ceilings, and tinsel over the picture frames on the walls, all they needed was the tree. They loved getting the residents involved and many enjoyed a singsong while hanging up a bauble. There was a lovely sense of friendship in the care home and Tracey was a wonderful, caring manager, encouraging everyone. Tom decided he’d have to get Tracey a present for Christmas too, not just the box of chocolates he’d got her last year. He wanted to get her something special. They all worked together to get the lights up around the ceiling, and some star-shaped willow decorations he also planned to sell in the shop, laughing and joking with Nigel and Tracey as they did so.