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A Year at The Cosy Cottage Café_A heart-warming feel-good read about life, love, loss, friendship and second chances

Page 30

by Rachel Griffiths


  “What? Why?”

  “Your cheeks just went bright red… as if you suddenly got hot.”

  Camilla smiled. “I’m absolutely perfect, thank you. I’ll get these for James but keep looking for Laura.”

  She paid for the toys then the stallholder wrapped them in tissue paper and put them into a bag, which she handed to Tom.

  “Oh it’s all right. I can carry them.” Camilla held out her hand but Tom shook his head.

  “Allow me. You can keep your hands free for shopping then.”

  “But you have shopping to do too.”

  “Not as much as you and besides, you need one hand free to do this.” He took her hand as they walked out of the chalet.

  “Of course I do.”

  Camilla smiled and squeezed his fingers.

  They went from chalet to chalet and she bought gifts for her mother, Dawn, Rick, Allie and Honey. When they reached the end of the row, she groaned.

  “What’s wrong?” Tom leaned closer to look at her.

  “I just realised I’ll need to get something for my dad. I haven’t bought him anything in years as there was no point, obviously, but now he’s here and staying for the foreseeable future, I need to get him something but I have no idea what.”

  Tom frowned. “It’s a difficult one but everyone needs something to drink out of, right?”

  He pointed at a stall opposite and Camilla saw that it sold kitchenware.

  “You could get him a tankard. That’s a suitable dad present, right?”

  They made their way over to the chalet.

  “These carved pewter tankards are nice.” She held one up. It had an elaborate Celtic band around the middle.

  “That is nice. Does he have any Celtic roots?”

  Camilla chewed her bottom lip. “I think there was a Welsh great grandfather in the mix somewhere.”

  “There you go then! Perfect.”

  Camilla paid for the tankard then they went back into the fresh air.

  “Okay, I think I just need something for Laura. But what about you? You haven’t bought a thing yet.” Camilla gazed up at Tom, enjoying the warmth in his soft brown eyes and the way his skin glowed in the cold. He was so handsome that she was breathless just looking at him.

  Tom nodded at the bags he was carrying. “It looks like I’ve bought plenty though doesn’t it?”

  “Give me some of the bags.”

  “Nope. You need to keep looking for Laura. Don’t worry about me, even if I don’t get anything today, I’ll pick something up next week when I go back to Brighton. They’ll be away for Christmas anyway, so if I get them something to take, it’ll need to be small enough to fit into their suitcase.”

  An hour later, following another stop for roasted chestnuts and a coffee, they came across a bookstall selling beautifully illustrated versions of children’s fairy tales. Camilla bought two collections for Laura and picked one up for James, explaining to Tom that she couldn’t resist buying books for her niece and nephew.

  “What time is it?” Tom asked.

  Camilla checked her mobile. “It’s one-thirty. I can’t believe it. Where did the morning go?”

  “Are you tired?”

  “Not really. Are you?”

  He shook his head. “Let’s walk for a bit then and see what else is here.”

  They wandered along, holding hands and enjoying the pretty chalets, the colourful strings of lights that hung from lampposts and food stalls and the Christmas carols that filled the afternoon air as they flowed from speakers positioned around the market.

  At the end of the path was a large Christmas tree decorated with hundreds of round white baubles. As the approached, Tom sighed audibly.

  “What is it?”

  “Look closely.”

  Camilla did and she saw that the baubles all had pictures of dogs on them.

  “It’s a rescue charity that supports dogs.”

  “By selling baubles?”

  “All sorts of things but this is what they do at Christmas. I’ve seen them around before.”

  He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.

  “Pick one.”

  “Oh… Uh…” Camilla gazed at the baubles and saw greyhounds, Yorkshire terriers, labradors, poodles and more.

  “How about this one?”

  Tom held out a silver bauble with a handsome British bulldog on it. The dog’s bottom teeth protruded slightly from his jaw and he wore a red Santa hat on his large head.

  “He’s gorgeous! Looks just like HP.”

  Tom nodded then handed a twenty-pound note to the fairy holding a collection tin.

  “Thank you kind sir!” she said. “We don’t have any change though unfortunately, so do you want to give me something smaller?”

  Tom waved a hand. “I don’t want change. Hope you raise plenty today for the dogs.”

  “Merry Christmas!” the fairy said, offering Tom and Camilla a broad smile.

  Tom gave the bauble to Camilla.

  “Merry Christmas, Camilla.”

  “Don’t you want to keep it?”

  “No. It’s for you. So you can remember today. If you want it of course.”

  Camilla slid the bauble into her handbag then zipped it carefully.

  “Thank you. I can’t wait to put it on my tree.”

  As they wandered around, they passed an ice rink and bumper cars, both of which Tom asked Camilla if she wanted to try but she laughed and declined. They had lots of shopping bags and she suspected that the skating needed to be booked in advance. There were teenagers whizzing around on the ice and she didn’t fancy getting bumped, plus the queues were building for the stalls and the Christmas market was getting really busy.

  “Ready to make a move then?” Tom asked. “Just thinking that with the drive, it’ll be about right then to get back for HP and give him his dinner.”

  “Yes, okay.” Camilla nodded as they turned and made their way back to the car park.

  “Let’s pick up something for lunch on the way back.”

  They stopped at the German Sausage factory stall and Camilla bought them a tray of frites to share. They ate as they walked, savouring the hot salty chips.

  Once they were inside the car and her shopping bags were safely stowed in the boot, she realised how tired she was. The combination of good food, hours in the fresh air and the emotions that Tom stirred in her, had all combined to make her sleepy. And as Tom pulled out onto the main road and Silent Night flowed from the car radio, Camilla tried to stay awake, but soon found herself drifting into a delicious snooze.

  Camilla pushed open her front door then turned and waved at Tom. He beeped the horn before driving away. As she closed the door behind her then set her bags on the hall floor, she smiled. It had been a wonderful day and she’d enjoyed Tom’s company immensely. But she couldn’t deny that having to say goodbye just then in the car, was difficult. She’d fallen asleep on the journey home and only woken when they’d reached Heatherlea. Tom had smiled when she’d apologised and told her that he completely understood and planned to have a nap once he’d fed HP. It had made her feel a bit better but she also felt sad that she hadn’t made the most of his company in the car. However, yet again, she realised that Tom made her feel incredibly relaxed. So relaxed that she was able to sleep in his company.

  Was that a good thing? She wasn’t sure. Especially if she’d been dribbling.

  She unhooked her handbag from around her body and went to hang it on the banister but then noticed that it was bulging and remembered the bulldog bauble. She took it out of her bag, went into the lounge then hooked it onto a branch of the Christmas tree, right at the front. It was a gift from Tom and she knew she would treasure it, just as she’d treasure the memories of their day out.

  Camilla knew that she was acting out of character, she knew that she’d never allowed herself to get this emotionally attached to a man before, and she wanted to stop herself caring about Tom, but she also knew, without a doubt, that it was
far too late for that.

  13

  The rest of the weekend passed quietly. Camilla had hoped that Tom might text her to invite her round that evening or the next day, but the text he sent her at ten-thirty Sunday morning said that he’d fed HP after he’d arrived home on Saturday, then lay down on his bed for a nap and hadn’t woken until six am on Sunday. He’d had errands to run, like food shopping and cleaning the car, and he said he hoped to see her in the week. She wondered if he was being deliberately cool, if he was really that cool about their relationship, or if he was trying to remain in control of his own feelings.

  Camilla had gone to Jackie’s for Sunday lunch and enjoyed her time there with Dawn, Rick and the children, and felt some hope that things would work out all right for her parents after all. It was still a bit strange having Laurence around but she knew she could get used to it. And seeing her mother so happy, positively glowing in fact, made Camilla want it to work out with all of her heart.

  The week passed in a blur as she was busy meeting clients before the start of the Christmas break. Being self-employed, it was tempting to keep working right up to Christmas Day but for the first time in years, she found that she didn’t want to. She wanted to enjoy some time with her family and, if possible, some time with Tom.

  On Thursday evening, Tom sent a text to ask her to meet him at The Red Fox on Friday for lunch. He said he was taking a half day in order to travel back to Brighton that evening. Camilla’s heart had sunk. She hadn’t realised he was going on the Friday but comforted herself with the fact that he’d said he’d be back for Christmas, as the locum vet covering him couldn’t do Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.

  Camilla replied and told him she’d be there at one. And she was, walking into the pub with her heart in her mouth. She hadn’t seen Tom since the previous Saturday and she’d missed him. So much so that she had an ache in her chest and worried that she’d become emotional when she laid eyes on him.

  Tom was already at the bar and he smiled when he saw her. The pub was warm and cosy and Camilla removed her hat and gloves as she approached Tom.

  “Hey there, beautiful.” Tom kissed her cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  “You have?” Camilla unbuttoned her coat and shrugged out of it then hooked it over her arm.

  “Yes, of course. It’s just been a mad week. What with call-outs and emergency surgeries and the like, you’d think every animal in the vicinity was trying to get their ailments out of the way before Christmas.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “I’m exhausted. The last thing I feel like on a Friday is travelling back to Brighton. I’d much prefer to spend it in front of the TV with a delightful companion.”

  “I’m sure HP would like that too.”

  Tom frowned. “I meant with you.”

  Camilla laughed. “I hoped you did.”

  “What can I get you?”

  “I’ll have a coffee, please.”

  Tom paid for two coffees then they took them to a table near the fireplace.

  “What have you been up to?” he asked as he hung his coat over the back of a chair.

  “Work. Sunday lunch with my parents. You know… the usual.” She huffed. “Actually, not the usual. It’s still really strange saying my parents rather than just my mother.”

  “It will probably take a while to get used to it. How’s it going anyway… with your mum and dad?”

  “They seem happy.” Camilla worried her bottom lip. “At least, that’s how I think they seem. It’s almost like he never went away.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Anyway, what time are you leaving?”

  “About four. I was thinking later initially, but if I hit traffic, I don’t want to be too late arriving. I’ve already packed what I need for the weekend.”

  “What about Christmas presents? You haven’t had time to get any have you?”

  A grin spread across his face. “Don’t tell them but I ordered from Amazon. I had a delivery yesterday to the surgery, so Mum and Dad are all sorted.”

  “I like your thinking.”

  “Camilla… I had a great time on Saturday. I didn’t want the day to end.”

  She swallowed hard. “Me either.”

  “I’d like to do it again some time. If you would?”

  “What go to a Christmas market?”

  “Not just that. A day out. Wherever you fancy. Before or after Christmas.”

  “That would be lovely. Why not both?”

  As she gazed into Tom’s eyes, his pupils dilated and her stomach fluttered. She could look at him all day long and not get bored.

  “What’re you doing this weekend?”

  “I promised Allie I’d help her pack food parcels for the elderly folks in the village. She does it every year… fills boxes with her cakes, jams and a bottle of something then delivers them to anyone she knows who is in need of a treat.”

  “Your weekend will be taken up visiting then?”

  Camilla nodded. “I don’t mind. I always end up thinking about how lonely it must be when you don’t have anyone around. Lots of people don’t, especially if their friends and partners have passed on.”

  Tom nodded. “Life can be lonely whatever age you are but especially if you’re elderly and can’t get out and about.”

  Camilla sipped her coffee as she pondered his comment. She’d never thought of herself as lonely, preferring to see herself as a busy career woman with friends and family to visit and her own pretty little cottage to go back to. However, since she’d spent time with Tom, she found being alone hard. It was as if she missed his gentle presence, his warmth and his smile and she thought about him constantly. She’d never had a man take up so much of her heart and mind before and she wondered if he thought about her too.

  But he probably didn’t. She knew men liked her looks and that they wanted her company, especially if they wanted an attractive companion for an evening out or a weekend away, but she’d never had a deeper connection with those men, even if they’d slept together. It had been physical and fun and nothing more. But with Tom, they’d kissed but not even had sex, and yet… he was under her skin and there was nothing she could do about it.

  “Do you want to go back to mine?” she blurted.

  Tom placed his mug on the table and met her gaze.

  “Don’t you want to eat here?”

  Camilla took a deep breath. “I just thought you might want to be alone.”

  “Oh…” He reached across the table and took her hands. “Camilla… I…”

  She stood up and pulled him up quickly, before she could change her mind or allow doubt about how he felt for her to enter hers.

  “I have some fabulous coffee there and a cold chicken and ham pie that Allie gave me yesterday. It’ll be delicious with potato salad.”

  Tom grabbed his coat and helped Camilla into hers then they hurried from the pub and made their way to her cottage, giggling along the way like mischievous Christmas elves.

  Camilla set the table in her small kitchen then went to the fridge and got a bottle of wine out. She held it up for a moment to read the label then paused. Tom had to drive to Brighton later, so giving him wine was not a good idea. Besides, she was so nervous that she realised she might neck a glass or two and that would be wrong. Because she wanted to be fully alert for whatever might happen between them.

  She put the wine back in the fridge and got the pie out along with a tub of potato salad, also courtesy of Allie, and placed them on the table. Then she filled a jug with water and slices of lemon and put that on the table between the wine glasses.

  “Tom?” she called him but he didn’t appear, so she went through to the lounge and found him standing in front of her bookshelves.

  He smiled at her. “You really like to read, huh?”

  She nodded. “Always have. I forget that the shelves are so full most of the time as I’m rushing around, but all except for those on the two shelves at the bottom – and they
’re my to-be-read shelves – have been devoured over the years.”

  The bookshelves took up the wall opposite the window and were groaning with the weight of all her books. For Camilla, the books were part of her life story. She’d read some of them more than once as she liked to revisit stories and characters she’d grown attached to on a precious reading, but she also had an addiction to buying more books, so she’d made room for the TBR books too.

  “And is this you?” Tom held up a gold frame that held a photograph.

  “Yes. Me and Dawnie in the local park. I was eight there and she was six.”

  “Did your mum take the photo?”

  She shook her head. “That would’ve been Dad. After he left, the photographs stopped for a while. Mum just didn’t have the heart for it.”

  “My mother was the keen photographer in our house. She has boxes and boxes of photos of me. And what for?” He shook his head. “After she’s gone, who’s going to want them? I certainly won’t. They’re of my most embarrassing years.”

  “Embarrassing?” Camilla eyed him. She couldn’t imagine him looking anything less than gorgeous.

  “Oh yes. I wasn’t always so… dashing!” He laughed and it lit up his whole face.

  “You weren’t?”

  “Uh uh. First there are the faded baby pictures with me in all sorts of horrendous outfits, closely followed by me as a toddler with a bizarre bowl cut. My mother cut my hair herself for years and boy does it look like it! I have kind of a cowlick going on so a fringe never did sit right. When my adult teeth came in wonky, and it was not a pretty sight, I had a brace fitted. There are about two years of photos of me looking extremely awkward and uncomfortable as I try to smile with my mouth closed. Next up, is young adult me… very thin and with no fashion sense at all, and by that I mean I wore whatever was in fashion even if it didn’t suit me and then… I learnt to hide from the camera.”

  “I would love to see those photos. I bet they’re not half as bad as you think.”

  “Perhaps one day I’ll show them to you. After I’ve had a few drinks.”

 

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