by Annie Lyons
‘Are you okay to discuss this without Susie?’ asked Ben. ‘I mean I’m amazed she’s let me come out on my own tonight, let alone make decisions about the shopping evening.’
‘It’s fine,’ she said and she realised that it was. ‘We can always firm things up with her later if there’s anything she disagrees with.’
‘Oh believe me, she’ll find something,’ said Ben with a wry smile. ‘And thanks by the way.’
‘For what?’
‘For not leaving me to be a Billy No-mates. I thought I was going to have to befriend the landlady,’ he said, gesturing at the sprout-faced woman behind the bar. He leant forward and whispered, ‘And to be honest, she scares the pants off me.’ Lizzie laughed. ‘What can I get you then?’ he added.
After he returned with their drinks, they firmed up the plans for the shopping evening relatively quickly. He agreed to provide the food and she the drink. They split the costs of an advertisement in the local newspaper and Lizzie said that she would arrange for a local author to sign her books in the coffee shop. It all seemed reasonably straightforward.
Once this was sorted, it would have made perfect sense for them to drink up and go. So Lizzie surprised herself when she pointed at his empty beer glass and said, ‘Would you like another?’ She was buoyed by the wine but was also anxious that he might decline her offer.
Ben smiled. ‘Why not? The night is still young. Thank you.’
After that, Lizzie felt herself relax in his company. He was funny and interesting; attentive and really quite charming, nothing like the disagreeable man she had met a few months back.
At one point, she turned to him and said, ‘Can I tell you something?’
‘Have I got spinach in my teeth?’ he joked.
She laughed. ‘Not today. The thing is, I have to confess that I really didn’t like you when we first met.’
Ben looked contrite. ‘Oh. Well I have to confess that I wasn’t over-keen on myself at that point,’ he said.
‘Sorry,’ she said.
‘No, I’m sorry to be honest. I’m a bloke, you see, and we have a tendency to mask our hurt with extreme bouts of grumpiness.’
Lizzie smiled. ‘Susie assured me that you weren’t all bad.’
‘Praise indeed from my meddling sister.’
‘You’re a great team.’
‘Why thank you,’ said Ben giving a little bow. ‘I owe her a lot, as you know. When someone crushes your dream with the heel of their designer shoe, it takes a special person to drag you back from that. Susie basically bullied me back from the brink of despair. Only a sister could do that.’
‘I can vouch for that,’ said Lizzie.
Ben gave her a searching look. ‘Susie mentioned that you lost your sister. I’m very sorry, Lizzie. I can’t imagine how that must feel.’
‘Like part of you has been ripped away,’ she said. She’d never voiced this sentiment out loud but it felt right somehow.
‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated, his eyes looking deep into hers. Dark brown eyes, she noticed. ‘Susie drives me up the wall sometimes but I couldn’t imagine life without her.’
Lizzie nodded. ‘Sometimes I think I’m okay – sometimes life seems almost normal but then I remember that she’s not here any more and I feel lost.’
‘You must have been very close.’
‘We were.’ Lizzie was lost in a memory of Bea but then she could hear her sister shouting in her head. For God’s sake, Lizzie. You’re out with this gorgeous man. Don’t bring down the mood by guffing on about me! She glanced up at Ben. He was looking at her with concern. She smiled to reassure him. ‘Anyway, enough about me. I want to hear about you. What about this crushed dream? It seems to me you’ve done a great job at rebuilding it.’
Ben hesitated and Lizzie wondered if she’d asked too much. She understood the desire to hold back. Opening up your heart is not something you do readily, especially if it’s already wounded and you need to protect it. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,’ she added.
Ben shook its head. ‘It’s fine. I was just wondering where to begin.’ And so he poured out his heart. He told her about his ex-wife, Fran, how he’d thought she’d shared his dream of opening a coffee shop and how wrong he had turned out to be. He told Lizzie how he would spend evenings discussing his plans whilst she listened. He would bake and assemble the lunch-time offerings and the establishment would become well-known for its excellent coffee. The staff would wear their own clothes with black aprons to give it a casual yet professional air. He would allow local artists to hang their pictures on his walls and run monthly book groups or possibly low-key music gigs. After an exhausting day, he would return home to Fran’s welcoming arms and they would share a bottle of wine, tales of their day and passionate sex. He’d talked of marriage and children and a dog.
Lizzie listened, finding that with every shared confidence and revealed hurt, she started to understand him a little more and to like what she discovered. He was just a person dealing with past hurt, just like her.
He told Lizzie that he’d talked to Fran about opening another coffee shop in time, perhaps a small, neatly branded chain. Fran had smiled and nodded but as he recalled, said very little. He realised now that she had been humouring him. When a cancelled work dinner had brought him home unexpectedly one evening to find Fran in bed with his best friend, he had cursed himself for not reading the signs.
‘I don’t think anyone would have seen that coming,’ observed Lizzie.
Ben gave her a grateful smile. ‘No, but I started to doubt what I thought I knew about people and about myself. Do you know what I mean?’
‘I do. I really do.’ So much of what Ben was telling her resonated with Lizzie. It was different, of course, but pain is pain. There are different degrees of hurt, different causes and reasons but the end result was the same. You had to find a way to rebuild yourself, to carry on and move forwards. Lizzie and Ben shared that need.
‘Sorry,’ said Ben finally. ‘Here I am going on about all this crap and you’re dealing with losing your sister. You must think I’m a loser.’
‘I don’t actually,’ said Lizzie. ‘I’m pleased that you feel you can talk to me about it.’
Ben smiled. ‘I don’t find it easy to talk to many people but there’s something about you, Lizzie Harris,’ he said, staring into her eyes.
Lizzie felt her cheeks flush and cleared her throat. ‘Well I’m glad we got everything sorted for the shopping evening. At least we won’t get into trouble with Susie.’ She couldn’t meet Ben’s gaze. She was out of practice at this flirting lark but also wanted to give herself a little more time.
‘Well that has to be a good thing,’ smiled Ben. ‘Now, shall I walk you home?’
‘If you like,’ she smiled touched by his chivalry. They walked side by side and Lizzie noted how comfortable she felt with Ben. She wasn’t sure if anything would develop, had no idea if she even wanted it to, but she was glad to have him as a friend. As they reached the door of her flat, they turned to one another. Ben smiled and put out his hand. Lizzie offered hers in return. He shook it warmly, his smile transforming into a broad grin. She laughed.
‘Thank you, Ms Harris,’ he joked. ‘Pleasure doing business with you. And I enjoyed our chat.’
‘Me too,’ she smiled. And with that he turned and headed into the night, his arm held high in a final wave of goodbye.
Lizzie was still smiling as she let herself into her flat. It may not have been a date in the text-book sense but she had definitely come out of the evening with a new friend and that had to be a good thing.
***
The shopping evening took place a few weeks later and Lizzie had found herself thinking about Ben a great deal since their evening in the pub. She felt comfortable talking to him and got the sense that he was a person she could trust. She wasn’t sure where these thoughts were taking her beyond friendship, but she did know that she had bought a new dress for the event.
She had seen it hang
ing in a charity shop window during one of her afternoon walks with Bambi. It had taken her a couple of days to pluck up the courage to ask to try it on and as she entered the shop, she had bumped into Carol.
‘Try it on and I’ll give you my expert opinion,’ she trilled when Lizzie explained what she was up to. As Lizzie stepped out of the changing room, Carol gasped. ‘It’s as if it was made for you! And it’s very daring,’ she added with a wicked raised eyebrow gesturing at the closely fitting, low cut bust.
‘Is it too much?’ asked Lizzie, eyeing herself critically in the mirror.
‘No-o! You can get away with it. You’ve got such a lovely figure. I don’t know why you keep it hidden all the time in those jeans and jumpers.
Back at her flat, Lizzie was having doubts. ‘Is it too much?’ she asked Bambi, who was sitting under her tiny Christmas tree watching The One Show.
‘Ro!’ answered Bambi helpfully.
Lizzie sighed. ‘Oh gawd. Dutch courage,’ she said, pouring herself a glass of wine. ‘I blame you,’ she said to the photograph of Bea which sat on the side. It was a beautiful picture of Bea. She had always been photogenic but she looked particularly stunning in this one. It had been taken at Bea’s wedding – well, the civil ceremony that Lizzie had attended. Bea had phoned her sister one day and arranged a meeting the following week. ‘Oh and wear something smart.’ Lizzie hadn’t questioned this but did as she was told. She was astonished to find Bea and Joe along with one of Joe’s friends waiting for her when she arrived.
‘We’re getting married! And I wanted you to be one of the witnesses because I knew you wouldn’t want to come to a church wedding even though you should really be my chief bridesmaid.’
Lizzie had been astonished but she’d been swept along by the force of Bea’s positive energy again and it had been a wonderful day. She had been concerned that the happy couple were missing out on their big church wedding and also surprised that Stella would allow this to happen.
‘We’re having a blessing in the church,’ Joe told her. ‘Bea talked Stella round. You know what she’s like,’ he added, gazing adoringly at his new wife.
Lizzie had taken the photograph with Bea’s camera on the steps of the town hall. Her sister had looked so happy, laughing and obviously deeply in love with Joe. Lizzie picked it up and stared into her sister’s emerald-green eyes and smiled. ‘Wish you were here, sis.’ It was then that she thought of Bea’s fifth letter and decided that now would be a good time to open it. She retrieved the envelope from the side and turned it over. Bea had written, ‘Open me before Christmas,’ on the back. Lizzie hooked her little finger in one corner and ripped it open. She unfolded the letter and a card fell out alongside it. It was addressed to Sam. She put it to one side and started to read.
Dear Lizzie,
Five letters in and you’re still reading – I’m impressed, little sis! I hope you enjoyed the trip to see Grandpa. I bet you cried like a muppet. Am I right? Of course I am.
So this letter is all about Christmas and you know how much I love Christmas. If it’s not decked in holly or festooned in fairy lights, it’s not festive enough. It’s probably the day I’ll miss the most, apart from Sam’s birthday.
As I can’t be there to celebrate with the family, my next heartfelt wish is for you to do it for me. Joe will no doubt appreciate having you there and although Sam might pretend he’s okay, I know he’ll find it hard. We’ve always had a lot of fun at Christmas so I want you to try and pick up the baton. Of course you won’t be anywhere near as good as me at charades and I could beat you hands down in a sprout-eating contest but that is the cross you’ll have to bear, my lovely sis.
I know Christmas hasn’t been your favourite time of year for a while, but I do remember us having terrific fun when we were growing up. What about that year we caught Dad drinking the sherry we’d left out for Father Christmas? He pulled an innocent face and told us that he was thirsty and you gave him a proper telling off. You were only about five – very fierce and very funny. Even Mum still talks about that and laughs.
And then there was the time when Uncle Lawrence came to stay when we were teenagers. He wound up Mum because he took us to the pub on Christmas Eve and bought us drinks. Then he tried to out-sing the choir at Midnight Mass and all Mum’s friends were tutting much to her endless embarrassment. She was still fuming on Christmas Day so that when he made a comment about the Christmas pudding, she stood up and poured the brandy butter over his head. We watched open-mouthed and then he and Mum started to laugh and we all joined in. Lawrence said, ‘But Stell, I only wanted a spoonful!’ and everyone fell into hysterics again. Happy days.
So I want you to go along and make new memories like that, Lizzie Lou. Yes, there’s a good chance that Mum and Grandpa’s bickering will drive you crazy and Mum will boss everyone out of the kitchen but I truly believe that Christmas is about family and you could be at the centre of it if you wanted to. If all else fails, you will get to see my boy opening his presents on Christmas Day. Trust me, there is no better gift than that in the world. So Happy Christmas, lovely Lizzie. This is a wish and a gift all rolled into one.
Love you. Bea x
PS please could you pass the enclosed card on to Sam on Christmas Day and hug him very hard for me.
Lizzie wiped her eyes and smiled to herself. She felt strangely excited about this wish. She had actually been wondering about asking her mother this very question but hadn’t plucked up the courage as yet. It was odd to think that her thoughts were running in tandem with Bea’s somehow but she took heart from this. It was as if she was ordering these thoughts; making sense of her life and reaching out towards the life she wanted. She resolved to phone her mother in the morning but for now she had to make an appearance downstairs.
‘Come on, Bambi. Good dog!’ Bambi trotted obediently towards her. ‘Now I’m sorry about this,’ she said plonking a pair of reindeer antlers on his head. ‘But Carol was insistent.’ Bambi gave a resigned bark and followed her down the stairs. She opened the door of the shop and switched on the fairy lights. She stood back for a moment. It looked really rather magical in the twinkling half-light.
‘Oh this looks gorgeous and so do you!’ said Carol appearing at the door with a friendly-looking rotund man at her side. ‘Lizzie, this is my Trevor. Trevor, say hello.’
Trevor grinned and shook her hand. ‘Nice to meet you, love. Carol’s told me a lot about you.’
‘It’s lovely to meet you too,’ smiled Lizzie. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘Ooh glass of white thanks Lizzie, and Trevor will have an orange juice.’ Trevor nodded agreement, obviously used to his wife taking charge. ‘Right well come on, Trevor, I’ll show you what’s on my Christmas wish list,’ she said with a wink to Lizzie. A steady stream of customers was coming through the door now and Lizzie welcomed them with a drink and a friendly smile.
The evening passed in a blur. Lizzie was delighted when Joe and Sam turned up to support her. Sam declared ‘books were boring’, which Lizzie saw as a challenge and set about finding him a selection of suitable stories that she thought would appeal. She felt proud to introduce Sam to everyone and Carol and Susie declared him to be ‘adorable’.
Lizzie was kept so busy in the bookshop that she didn’t have any time to go next door to see how Ben and Susie were doing. Every time she thought she might have time to slip to the coffee shop, another customer appeared with a purchase or a query. She told herself that she didn’t need to worry. Susie and Ben would have everything covered and yet she had a feeling like an itch that made her long to just pop in and say hello. She glanced down at her dress. It would be a shame if all her effort was wasted. After the last customers had left, Lizzie collected the empty wine glasses onto a tray and carried them next door, leaving Carol and Sam minding the shop with Bambi. As Lizzie walked through the door she spotted Susie in conversation with Joe so she slipped past into the kitchen.
Ben was covering some leftovers with cling-film and gl
anced up as she entered.
‘How was that for you?’ he grinned.
‘Great. I thought it went really well,’ she said, putting down the tray and pulling self-consciously at her dress.
‘I like your dress,’ he commented. ‘You look suitably festive.’
She pulled a face. ‘Like a Christmas tree?’
He laughed. ‘If you like. Or the fairy on the top.’
‘Oi!’ she cried but she was laughing too. She had drunk two or three glasses of wine tonight and was feeling courageous. ‘Anyway,’ she began, looking at the floor. ‘I was just wondering – ’ What was she wondering? If he wanted to go for another drink? If he liked her? If she liked him? If he wanted to get to know her better? Yes, all of those things.
‘Yes?’ he asked teasingly.
‘If I could get the recipe for your cheesecake.’ Cheesecake? Lizzie? What are you blathering on about?
‘My cheesecake?’ Ben’s mouth twitched with the hint of a smile.
‘Yes please. I want to make it for Christmas.’
‘You do?’ She nodded. ‘Okay,’ he smiled. ‘I’ll dig it out for you.’
‘And furthermore – ’ Furthermore? Heavens, she was drunker than she realised. ‘I wanted to thank you for everything you did this evening.’
Ben gave a little bow. ‘Well that is a relief. For a second there I thought you were going to ask me out.’
Lizzie’s mouth dropped open. ‘Well I – ’
‘Because if you had asked me that,’ said Ben walking round the counter and standing in front of her, ‘I might have said yes.’ Lizzie looked up into his eyes and felt her body grow light. Ben put a hand out to her cheek and moved in closer. Lizzie held her breath. ‘But as you’ve just come round to compliment my cheesecake, I’ll say thank you and goodnight,’ said Ben stepping backwards with a grin.
Lizzie hit him on the arm and laughed. ‘Well how about it?’ she said. She realised that she really wanted this to happen. It felt right.