Snowflakes over Moon Cottage: the perfect cosy winter romance for 2018 (Animal Ark Revisited Book 4)

by Lucy Daniels

  ‘That would be lovely,’ Miranda replied. She pulled out a chair and sat down facing Susan, leaning an elbow on the table beside her. ‘So what did Mandy have to say the other night about that young vet … what’s his name again …?’ She gazed at Susan, eyebrows raised to quizzical, head on one side like a bird.

  Susan resisted the urge to roll her eyes or laugh. Miranda must be pretending she’d forgotten Toby’s name. Her mum loved all kinds of gossip, but especially if it was about attractive young men of Susan’s age. Sometimes she seemed more like a friend than a mother. ‘You mean Toby?’ she said.

  ‘Oooh yes.’ Miranda pulled her chin in with a self-satisfied look. ‘Toby, that’s right. How’s he getting on?’

  Susan paused to set out a mug for herself and a bone china cup and saucer for Miranda, then turned and put her hands on her hips. ‘Mandy says he can hardly move for middle-aged ladies chasing him round the consulting-room table.’ She grinned, then turned again to grab teabags from the cupboard and milk from the fridge.

  If Miranda had been hoping for romantic gossip, she must have been disappointed, but she hid it well as she raised a single eyebrow. ‘I’m not surprised,’ she said with a little laugh. ‘Middle-aged womanhood can be lonely, you know.’

  Susan stifled a chuckle as she looked at her mother. There was no way Miranda was lonely. She had often said as much herself, surrounded as she was with friends and admirers as well as Susan and Jack. ‘Maybe you should pop in and see him yourself,’ she suggested, her voice dry.

  ‘Maybe I will,’ Miranda said and laughed again. ‘Although I’d need to acquire a pet. Maybe a cute little bunny?’

  ‘I think a cougar would be more your style,’ Susan teased, with a grin. Her mother was incorrigible. Susan had to admire her optimism.

  ‘So rude about your own mother!’ Miranda mimed being shot in the heart. ‘Oh darling, I’ve been meaning to ask, how is Mr Gorski doing?’

  Susan held on to her smile, though a wave of sadness pushed through her. ‘He’s doing okay,’ she said. ‘His sister’s there now till after Christmas, so he has company at least.’

  She and Jack had been round to see Mr Gorski a couple of times. Even the presence of his very chatty sister couldn’t hide the gap that Coffee’s cheery presence had left. And Mr Gorski was starting to have trouble hearing the doorbell. Fine while his sister was there, Susan thought, but what would happen later? She and Jack would have to keep a good eye on him when Christmas was past. The New Year could be a difficult time when you were alone.

  ‘Poor fellow.’ Miranda sighed. ‘It’s terrible to lose your companion. Life is just no fun alone. Speaking of which …’ Miranda sat up straight and looked Susan right in the eye. ‘How’s your love life going?’ she asked.

  Susan had to smile at her mother’s ability to hop from comedy to tragedy and then back to gossip again in the space of a minute. Miranda had always been this way: no subject too delicate and nothing off limits. All the same, she had hoped this wouldn’t come up. The last time they’d been together, she had told Miranda all about the cattle round-up with Douglas. Miranda had clapped her hands together and talked for hours about attractive cowboys. But Susan hadn’t had a chance to tell her about the awful phone conversation with Michael, or the fact that Douglas had overheard and then left.

  She sighed. ‘It’s not going anywhere much,’ she said. She paused for a moment as the whole thing rushed through her head again. She didn’t want to talk about it, but it was better that Miranda knew everything. ‘Michael called to talk about Jack when Douglas was here. Jack was playing with Douglas. Michael overheard them talking.’ The words were flooding out too fast. She stopped to take a breath, then began again. ‘Michael got stupidly angry that I had someone else here.’

  Miranda’s eyes opened very wide, then she frowned. ‘Michael thinks he can still order you about?’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I hope you didn’t listen.’

  Susan felt her shoulders sag. Back when she and Michael had been together, it had always been hard to tell him when something was wrong. Nowadays, she aimed always to speak her mind, but with Michael’s return she was back there again, unable to tell him what she wanted. Miranda was gazing at her. Was that pity or disapproval in her eyes? Susan couldn’t tell, nor did she want to ask. She turned away, opened a drawer and took out a teaspoon. Much as she loved her mum, she’d always had the feeling that Miranda felt she hadn’t stood up to Michael properly in the first place.

  The kettle was boiling. She picked it up and poured the hot water onto the teabags. She had to start standing up for herself, she thought. Susan knew her mum loved her, but if even Miranda thought she was a failure, then perhaps she really was. ‘He mentioned taking me to court over Jack,’ she said, looking over her shoulder. It was the only defence she could think of that might exonerate her from being to blame.

  To her relief, this time Susan could tell Miranda’s wrath was entirely aimed at Michael. ‘He threatened that, did he?’ Her tone was grim. ‘Well I wish he was here right now. I’d love to give him a piece of my mind.’ Miranda’s fingers were tapping the table as if she was itching for a fight. Susan had the oddest feeling that she might laugh. The idea of Miranda facing up to Michael was much better than the idea of Susan herself having to do it. She knew she would have to eventually, but things were so bad already that she barely knew where to start.

  Miranda was looking at her thoughtfully as she brought the tea over and set it on the table. ‘What about Douglas?’ she asked. ‘Where does he come in all this? You didn’t tell him, did you?’

  Susan shook her head, feeling miserable. ‘I didn’t tell him,’ she said, ‘but he overheard me on the phone. He stayed to tidy up, but said it would be better if he didn’t come back.’

  ‘He thought it would be better if he stayed away? Maybe he’s not the brave cowboy I took him for.’ Miranda’s voice was dismissive.

  Susan could feel her face reddening. This time it was anger rising. She glared at Miranda. ‘He is brave,’ she replied. Her voice was tight with tension. ‘He wasn’t backing out because he was scared. He said it wasn’t worth the risk that I’d lose Jack.’ At least, I hope so …

  Miranda seemed surprised at Susan’s vehemence. They stared at one another in silence for a moment. Susan searched in her mind for a new topic of conversation. She really didn’t want to carry on with this one. She lifted her mug to take a sip, then almost spilt her tea when the doorbell rang.

  ‘Are you expecting someone?’ Miranda asked.

  Susan put her mug down and shook her head. ‘Don’t think so,’ she said, pushing her chair out.

  She walked along the hallway. It would probably be someone selling something, she thought.

  To Susan’s horror, Michael was standing on the doorstep. Susan felt sick as she looked at him. He looked as dapper as ever. Every hair was in place. His suit was impeccable. How could he look so perfect when everything was awful? For a moment, Susan considered slamming the door in his face. What was he doing here? Her hands were shaking as she held them tightly balled into fists at her sides. She took a deep breath, trying to quell the fear and rage that had risen. Mandy had said she should try to talk to him and she was probably right. Susan had been trying to dredge up the courage for the confrontation. She had picked up the phone, even got as far as calling up his number, but she hadn’t known where to start. And now here he was.

  She wasn’t ready. Her mind was blank.

  ‘What do you want?’ she said. ‘I was … you said—’ She bit off the words and shut her mouth like a trap. She might not know what to say, but she wasn’t going to say the wrong thing.

  Michael frowned. He was looking directly into Susan’s face as if trying to read her thoughts. He seemed different, she thought. Last time she’d seen him, he’d been so angry. On the phone too. Now his expression was guarded. It was as if the uncertainty he’d had when he first came back had returned. ‘I wanted to talk about Jack,’ he said.

 
Susan pressed her teeth together. She wasn’t sure if she could speak, even if she wanted to. Michael had paused as if waiting for her to say something, but when she said nothing, he pushed on. ‘I didn’t want to talk again over the phone.’ Again the hesitation, the searching look.

  Susan’s mind was frozen. This was her chance to tell him what she wanted. Would her mum think better of her if she just laid into him? But she could no more do it than if someone put a knife in her hand and told her she should hurt Jack.

  ‘I think I owe you an apology.’ Michael said the words so quietly that Susan barely heard them.

  ‘You think?’ she said slowly. She stared at him. What on earth did that even mean? She shook her head, trying to lift the fog. Did he actually want to apologise? He sounded so half-hearted. There was a noise behind her in the hallway. The door, which she had been holding half open, was pulled out of her hand and opened wide.

  Miranda stepped up and stood beside Susan. Standing on the step, she looked straight at Michael. Her eyes were blazing. Susan would hardly have been surprised if she had pulled out a cross, exorcism style. She looked ready to cast out any demon. When she spoke, Susan was surprised by the calmness of her tone. ‘I’m not sure what you think you are going to achieve by coming here,’ she said. ‘Four years ago you walked out on my daughter and threw away your chance to become a father.’

  How was her mother so emphatic, yet still composed? Susan was trembling. Out of sight, a cool hand reached for hers and squeezed her fingers, sending strength into her. She pulled her shoulders back and tried to stand tall.

  Miranda was speaking again. ‘I watched my daughter as she rebuilt her life and rediscovered the strength you’d taken away,’ she said. ‘I’ve never been so proud of her as I was when she became a mother. She is bringing up my grandson on her own. She’s doing a wonderful job.’

  Miranda squeezed Susan’s hand again and the shakes Susan had been feeling subsided even more. It was amazing how much comfort was coming from that small contact.

  ‘And now you waltz back into her life without a care: wanting everything your own way.’

  Michael was gazing at Miranda as if mesmerised. Susan herself was astonished at her mum’s dignity and power. ‘You are dishonest and pushy.’ And now the voice had grown a little louder. ‘You have used every trick in the book to get her to do what you want. Nothing is too low for you.’

  Michael’s eyes widened for a moment. ‘But I …’ he stammered, then gave up.

  Miranda was in full flow again. ‘You took her out and plied her with alcohol so she didn’t know whether she was coming or going.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘Then you tell her you want a trip to York as if it’s some innocent request. Once there, you dare to announce your intentions to Jack: show him your fancy house with your fancy bedroom and tell him all this can be his. You never once thought to check with Susan whether it was okay. What kind of man would do that? Use the excitement of a child to force his mother into doing something she doesn’t want?’

  Michael was looking more and more taken aback. Miranda took a slight step forwards and he inched away.

  ‘Don’t you think you should have asked for her permission before you told Jack anything? You have no respect for her, but you should. She is the woman who raised your son. She’s done it on her own with no help from you. Don’t you think you should have checked every single detail before you acted?’

  There was a brief pause and again, Michael opened his mouth, but Miranda spoke over him. ‘You have shown her no respect whatsoever. Even today, you’ve turned up here. You had no idea whether Jack was here. Were you trying to use him again to get your way? That truly is despicable.’

  Susan couldn’t imagine what else there was to say, but Miranda showed no sign of stopping, as if she had been storing everything up, just for this moment. Michael looked so cowed now that Susan almost felt sorry for him.

  ‘Having bribed her and tried to coerce her into agreeing. Having used your own son as a weapon, you have the temerity to tell my daughter how to live her life and who she might invite into her house. Where were you all this time? Where were you when she needed you? And yet even then, you dared to use the threat of legal action to try to get your own way. Do you really think the courts would help? You, who have been absent all through Jack’s life?’ The scorn in Miranda’s voice burned like acid. She took another step forward, still holding on to Susan to Susan’s hand. She raised her arm so that their linked fingers were in view. ‘This is my daughter,’ Miranda said. She glared at Michael, daring him to interrupt. ‘She makes me proud every day of her life. She has always put Jack first. That’s how parenting should be. It took me a while to understand as well, but the needs of your young child always come before your own. And that is something my daughter knew instinctively as soon as Jack arrived. She deserves much better than the likes of you.’

  Michael seemed to have shrunk. Susan was gripping her mother’s hand. Again, strength flowed into her when her mum’s fingers pressed hers. There was so much fire in Miranda’s eyes, she seemed invincible.

  ‘I think you should go now,’ Miranda said. Her voice was still strong, but now it was dismissive. ‘I don’t know if my daughter has the patience to discuss any of this with you. I know I wouldn’t, but she’s a better person than I am and always has been. Do you want to talk to him, Susan?’

  Susan was still reeling. She shook her head.

  Michael opened his mouth yet again, but Miranda raised a hand and pointed. ‘Go,’ she said. ‘Go now. You have no right to be here. This is harassment. If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to call the police, you understand? Wasn’t it your glittering legal career that made you reject my daughter and your son? You know as well as I do that lawyers who’ve been in trouble don’t get on well.’ The fingers holding Susan’s were now gripping so tightly it was almost painful, but Susan squeezed back. Thank you, Mum.

  Michael blinked like a sheep. Miranda was still pointing him towards his car. He stared at her for a moment, then turned and slunk away. He opened the door of his car, climbed in and drove off without looking back.

  As the car rounded the corner, Miranda breathed out a long breath. She’d been holding herself so rigid that it almost seemed like she was deflating, but when Susan looked into her face, satisfaction blazed from every feature. Miranda smiled. ‘I’ve been wanting to do that for years,’ she said.

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’ Susan felt an unexpected feeling of peace. She had no idea how she was going to sort things out with Douglas, but Michael suddenly seemed much less of a threat. She turned suddenly and hugged Miranda tightly to her. ‘Thanks for everything.’

  They broke apart, and Susan was suddenly aware they were standing on the front doorstep. She felt as if there could be eyes behind every curtain.

  Miranda caught her glance and sent Susan a sudden conspiratorial grin. ‘Oh don’t worry about them,’ she said. ‘I don’t care what they think and neither should you. The main thing is that he’s gone.’

  ‘You were wonderful,’ Susan told her. They stepped back into the hallway and she closed the door.

  Miranda placed her hands together, fingers entwined, then pushed them out in front of her as if stretching. ‘It felt good,’ she admitted. ‘And for the moment he’s off your back. I’m not sure what comes next, but right now …’ she shrugged her shoulders, the movement exaggerated and comical, ‘… I fear our tea may be cold. Will you go and put the kettle back on, or shall I?’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It had been pouring with rain all day and now it was turning stormy. Susan had spent the afternoon entertaining Jack, who had been a little crestfallen to wake up to another wet and windy day. They’d made gingerbread men while listening to a festive playlist and made Christmas cards for Miranda and their extended family and even one for Frostflake and his littermates. It was now properly dark outside. Susan stood up to draw the curtains. Outside the window, beyond the rivulets running down the glass, the white icicle ligh
ts on the house next to Mr Gorski’s danced back and forth as the gusty wind caught them.

  She pulled the curtains on the driving rain and wandered into the kitchen, feeling restless. The euphoria following Miranda’s speech had lasted through the night, but now a more sober feeling had replaced the joy.

  Nothing with Michael was resolved. Miranda had been very loving afterwards and that was wonderful. But she had made it clear she wasn’t going to interfere further. She would leave it to Susan to choose whether she wanted to contact Michael again. ‘You know him better than I do,’ she’d admitted. ‘When he came to the door, I could see you weren’t ready and I was angry he was forcing it on you. But it really is up to you to decide what’s best for Jack.’

  Michael’s visit had unnerved her. Though Susan had welcomed Miranda’s assertiveness, the fact that Michael had been trying to apologise nagged at her. It was itching at her that she didn’t know what he was saying sorry for.

  The phone in her pocket buzzed and the usual surge of hope that it might be Douglas rose, only to be quelled when she looked at the screen. It was a message from Mandy.

  Hello, it said. This is a reminder from your friendly neighbourhood man-advisor, that you should call up the lovely Douglas. Go on, cowgirl. Get out your lasso! What’s the worst that can happen?

  Susan grinned. Mandy was incorrigible, but she really couldn’t call Douglas yet. Not while everything was still up in the air with Michael. Douglas was bound to ask. If she told him the truth, he would just repeat his opinion that it wasn’t safe: that he wouldn’t risk her happy life with Jack. And she wouldn’t lie to him ever again. She had to do this properly or not at all.

  I can’t, she texted back. He’ll ask about Michael. Mum might have given him a piece of her mind, but I still have to make mine up.

  Frustration rose as she pressed send. This whole situation was stupid. She was hoping against hope that Douglas would wait for her, like Mandy had said. The spark between them had been real, hadn’t it? But no man would wait indefinitely. She had to pull herself together and call Michael. She just had no idea what to say. She wandered back through into the living room. Jack was there, playing with Lamby on the couch, bouncing him in the air and making whooshing noises. They had watched The Snowman earlier. Maybe Lamby was flying to Lapland to dance with Father Christmas.