All I Want For Christmas (A Sweet, Contemporary Romance) (Romance In The Lakes Book 1)

by Tracey Mayhew

  I flounder for a minute; I really didn’t expect that she would be this mad over me not calling her. “I was going to-”

  “I’m only messing wid ya!” Sofia cries, her Italian accent slipping through, as she runs behind the counter, practically jumping on me.

  “Oof!” I cry, more than a little surprised by her sudden change – I swear her mood swings give me whiplash, sometimes.

  “It’s so good to have you back!” she squeals, practically jumping up and down whilst still hugging me.

  “Er, Sofe… you’re kind of strangling me,” I gasp, gently pushing her away.

  “Oh my God, I’m sorry!” she exclaims, stepping back and looking between Holly and I. “The old gang’s, finally, back together! It’s been so long!”

  I glance at Holly and grin; it’s true, it’s been a while since we were all in the same room together.

  “So, are you back for good?” Sofia asks.

  I shake my head, my stomach churning for some reason; this isn’t the first time I’ve had to field this question today. “Only until Boxing Day,” I reply.

  “But that’s only a month!” Sofia points out.

  “Nothing escapes you, does it, Sherlock?” I mutter, picking up the cloth again and wiping down the counter; I try not to notice that it’s the same spot I’ve already cleaned.

  “Don’t do that, Jess; don’t get snarky with me,” she warns. “You know, Mum will kill you when she finds out you’re leaving again.”

  I pause, looking up at Sofia. “Does Jackie know I’m here, yet?” I ask, feeling a sudden longing to see her; Jackie de Luca is my godmother and the closest thing I have to a mother since…

  Sofia shakes her head. “No, she’s gone to the cash and carry with Dad; Tony’s minding the bar. He says hi, by the way.”

  I smile to myself; Tony’s Sofia’s oldest brother and manages The Green Dragon, the pub their parents own. He was also the guy that stepped up to take me to our summer prom when I was seventeen and Mark Stevens ditched me for Lyndsey Tolson; it wasn’t the best time of my life but Tony had made it a lot more bearable.

  “Mum’s going to flip when she finds out you’re here,” Sofia continues. She looks at me. “But, don’t worry; I won’t tell her for you.”

  I smile gratefully. “Thanks.”

  “But, a word of advice: make sure you do it soon, otherwise the gossips will get to her first and she’ll never forgive you.”

  “You’ve been warned,” Holly jokes, picking up a pile of dirty plates as she heads out to the kitchen.

  As soon as she’s out of earshot, Sofia turns to me. “How’s she been today?” she whispers, nodding towards the kitchen.

  I shrug. “Okay, considering. We had the Knitting Club in earlier-”

  Sofia rolls her eyes. “Oh, I can imagine how well that went.”

  I smirk. “They insisted on telling me all about how she’s been coping – or not coping, more to the point.”

  Sofia is about to speak but stops as Holly’s voice drifts out to us. “I can hear you, you know! If you’re going to talk about me, at least have the decency to do it when I’m not around!”

  Sofia and I stare at each other for a moment, two naughty children caught in the act, before we burst out laughing. “I thought that’s what we were doing,” I point out.

  “Well, I guess that’s my cue to go,” Sofia announces, swishing her sleek black hair over her shoulder. She points at me. “Come by The Dragon tonight, okay? Mum and Papa would love to see you.”

  I nod; it was high time I went to see Jackie and Vinnie.

  Poking her head into the kitchen, she calls, “See you later, Holly!”

  “Bye!”

  Heading towards the door, Sofia looks back at me. “See if you can get her to come with you tonight, yeah? She needs a night out.”

  I scoff. “I can but try. Listen, could you ask everyone not to mention I’m back; I want to surprise Jackie and Vinnie.”

  Sofia grins. “Sure thing,” she promises as she turns and leaves the tearooms.

  Watching her go, I shake my head as I return to my task, doubting that even wild horses would be able to get Holly out of the house tonight, or any other night, for that matter.

  Chapter 6

  Thank God, it’s over. I’ve survived my first day – and don’t I know it?

  Honestly, I’d forgotten how busy it could be, even in the off-season; I mean, there may not be loads of tourists but the locals in the area do enjoy hiking whatever time of year it is and the villagers love coming here to swap news and stories. My return has also peaked everyone’s interest and we’ve had people coming by all day to welcome me back and to see how I’m doing, many of them telling me how relieved they are that I’m here to help Holly out.

  All except one notable exception.

  I’m not sure what I had been expecting, on that front; had I really expected Dad to just walk in, order a cup of tea and we’d have some kind of grand reunion, magically putting everything that’s happened behind us? Clearly, on some level, I had been. I almost want to laugh at myself for being so naïve; Mum always said Dad and I were too stubborn for our own good and, I guess, I’m now realising just how true that is. Maybe I should swallow my pride and be the one to make contact first; after all, I was the one that left.

  Maybe I will…

  “Auntie Jess!”

  At the sound of her voice, I look up, grinning, as Amy crashes through the door, dropping her school bag on the floor as she runs towards me, her mousy-brown hair flying wildly behind her; rounding the counter, she throws her arms around me like we haven’t seen each other in years. “How you doing, Ams?” I ask, noting how hard she’s hugging me.

  “Good, now you’re here,” she says. Stepping back, she glances around the tearooms, still needing to be tidied. “Do you need a hand?” she asks eagerly.

  “Just a sec.” I reach out, stopping her. I look at her for a moment; despite her smile, I can tell she isn’t her usual self. She looks tired and her black uniform only serves to make her look all the more pale. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you a hot chocolate with the works?” I smile as her eyes light up at the prospect and I’m glad to see that even the small things still bring light to her eyes. I point to the nearest table. “Go on: sit.”

  She does as she’s told, without question, no doubt eager for the treat coming her way.

  “So… how was school?” I ask, tentatively, avoiding the question I really want to ask.

  “It was okay, I guess,” she mutters quietly.

  “Where’s your brother?”

  She glances out of the window at the darkening road outside. “He was talking to Jake; he said he’d be here in a bit.”

  I nod, heating up the milk for Amy’s drink. “Do you think he’d want one?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know.” She looks around. “Where’s Mum?”

  I nod towards the kitchen as I pour the milk into the cup and add the hot chocolate powder before adding whipped cream and marshmallows. Carrying Amy’s hot chocolate, I glance into the kitchen as I pass, glad to see Holly’s not in there – she’s probably taking the bins out or something. “Look, I should warn you,” I say, sitting down opposite her, “your mum knows you called me.”

  She sighs, dropping her head. “I figured as much.”

  I hold my hands up. “I had to tell her.”

  “Is she angry?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “No-”

  “Ah, just the person I was waiting for.”

  We both turn at the sound of Holly’s voice to find her standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her eyes fixed firmly on her daughter. Amy immediately starts to speak.

  “Mum, I know you must be mad, but-”

  “Stop, right there, young lady,” Holly instructs, walking towards us. “What on earth gave you the idea to call Jess in the first place?”

  “Well, I knew you wouldn’t,” Amy explains hurriedly, “but I figured you needed someone to talk to
-” She pauses as she realises Holly’s smiling. “Why are you smiling?” she asks, clearly suspicious.

  “Because I should be thanking you,” Holly acknowledges.

  “You should?” Amy asks, glancing at me.

  “Yes; for doing something I should have done long ago.” She hugs her daughter. “Thank you, baby.”

  Amy smiles. “That’s okay; me and Josh didn’t think you should be going through this alone.”

  Releasing her, Holly continues, “Speaking of which: where is your brother?”

  As if on cue, Josh walks into the tearoom, the complete opposite of his sister: whereas Amy’s uniform was still relatively neat, Josh’s looks crumpled, his shirt untucked, his tie already off and half hanging from his pocket. His black hair is sticking up all over the place and he looks like he would rather be anywhere else but here; there’s a look in his eye that wasn’t there the last time I saw him, like he’s angry at the world.

  It doesn’t take a genius to work out what’s made him feel like that.

  Not for the first time today, I curse that man who’s caused so much pain to the ones he is supposed to love. I just don’t understand how he could have done what he had and then just abandon them.

  I push these thoughts from my mind; they’re not important. I need to focus on helping Holly and the kids through this.

  “Hey,” Josh mumbles, barely sparing us a glance as he slouches onto the nearest chair, his focus now on his phone.

  There’s a moment of awkward silence; it’s clear to me that things have changed, the dynamics are different in this family.

  Holly watches Josh for a moment, clearly not knowing what to say to him.

  “How was school, Josh?” I ask, eager to break the growing tension.

  Josh barely looks up from his phone as he shrugs, mumbling something I can’t quite make out.

  I glance at Amy, who raises her eyebrows at me before taking a sip of her drink.

  “Right, well, I just have a few things to do before we can go,” Holly announces, clapping her hands in an effort to appear cheerful.

  “Have you made any cakes, Mum?” Amy asks eagerly.

  “No, I haven’t had time today, sweetheart,” Holly mutters as she returns to the kitchen. “We’ve been busy.”

  I purse my lips, saying nothing; Holly had had plenty of opportunities to bake but every time I suggested her doing just that, she magically found something to distract her.

  As she disappears, Amy slouches in her chair, sighing moodily. “She never has time to make cakes anymore,” she grumbles.

  I smile encouragingly at her; Amy loved helping her mum in the kitchen after school. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was angling for a job here someday. “She will; it’s just going to take time.”

  “I guess…” she mutters, dejectedly.

  Unable to bare Amy’s disappointment, I continue, “Hey, why don’t you and me work on her together? We’ll soon get her back in the saddle.”

  Behind us, Josh scoffs. “You’re hoping, ain’t ya?” he mutters, finally looking up from his phone. “She hasn’t done anything since Dad left.”

  I can hear the bitterness in his voice and realise that, clearly, Holly isn’t the only one angry about this situation; I make a mental note to catch him alone sometime so that we can talk – it may help if he could vent to someone. Looking between the two kids, I say, “Listen, I know your Mum; yes, she’s been knocked for six by this but she will pick herself up again.” I wink at Amy. “And we can certainly help her along a bit.”

  “Yeah, we totally should,” Amy agrees enthusiastically.

  “Great and we’ll start by getting her to make some cherry scones.”

  “What? That’s not fair!” Amy cries. “You’re only saying that because they’re your favourite.”

  “Yeah, so?” I retort. “Let’s not forget, this is my plan and I travelled all the way from London for you; I deserve a treat.”

  Amy pulls a face, returning to her hot chocolate. “Whatever,” she mutters, and despite her best efforts of trying to hiding it, I can see she’s smiling.

  After finishing up in the tearooms and saying goodbye to Holly and the kids, I return to my flat – my extremely quiet, empty flat; it’s strange being surrounded by silence after spending the whole day chatting to people.

  I drop into the nearest armchair with a sigh, my feet throbbing, my back aching. Why is it that you can go a whole day without noticing these things and then, when you stop, you realise just how much pain you’re in? God, I must be getting old.

  As I sit there, my mind drifts to Josh; he was so different from the last time I’d seen him. Then, he had been only too keen to talk about his football practice and his mates over pizza, yelling at Amy when she had revealed he had a crush on a girl and blushing when I teased him about it.

  I smile, glad I have that memory because, judging by how he was tonight, it may be a while before the old Josh makes an appearance. He’s clearly holding on to a lot of anger; anger that I know will do him no good in the long run. I must admit, it was a shock seeing him like that; I only hope he lets me help him.

  Closing my eyes, my thoughts drift to my relationship with my own father; we’re not angry at each other, not really… we just don’t know how to be around each other now that Mum’s gone. When she passed away, we were both in a lot of pain and I’d held on to a lot of anger at the world for taking her from us. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to talk but the only person I wanted to talk to was my mum; ironic, really, when you think about it. In the end, Dad and I just co-existed for a while, both of us finding it easier to find solace in other places than in each other.

  I found solace in anger and booze for a while (hence, the reason I don’t drink now).

  My dad, however, found solace in the past; he surrounded himself with everything that reminded him of Mum, refusing to move forward, to say goodbye.

  Once I’d sorted myself out (with the help of my friends), I’d tried to help him, tried to make him realise Mum would want him to move forward but it was too late; he was stuck and nothing would move him out of the rut he was in.

  Glancing at my phone, I realise just how much I’ve missed him – and not just these last three years; he’s the only parent I have now and I need him. And, more to the point, he needs me, whether he wants to admit it or not.

  Grabbing my phone, I decide to face my issues head-on; if Dad won’t call me, then I’ll have to be the one to call him, won’t I? We both need to stop these childish games. I smile; in my head, I can hear Mum echoing that exact sentiment.

  I scroll through my phone, stopping as I find the number. Pressing the phone to my ear, I wait, listening to the tinny ringing sound.

  “Hello?”

  I can’t help it; tears cloud my vision. I don’t know what I was expecting but his voice is still as strong as ever; that same voice that had told me off when I’d stepped over the line growing up, the one that had comforted me when I’d told him about Mark and Lyndsey a week before prom. Pushing past the lump in my throat, I say, “Hi, Dad; it’s me.”

  “Jessica.”

  My heart sinks at the use of my full name; it’s like there’s still a gaping chasm between us. To be fair, there probably is: three years is a long time. “Yeah…”

  The silence seems to drag on, until Dad finally speaks.

  “So, you’re back,” he states. “And will you be staying long?”

  I’m not sure if I’m imagining it but do I hear hopefulness in his voice; does he want me to stay? Does he want us to reconcile, to get back on track? I can only hope… “I’m here until Boxing Day,” I tell him, wishing I could gauge his reaction; the man gives absolutely nothing away over the phone, he never has. “Um… Dad, I was thinking of coming over to visit you in the next couple of days, if that’s okay?”

  There’s a pause and I wonder if I’ve overplayed my hand; would this scare him off, have him pushing me away again?

  “Yes, that should
be fine, Jessica,” he replies, his tone still formal.

  But, I suppose, it’s better than nothing. “Okay, great,” I murmur, unsure of where to go from here.

  “Right, then, Jessica; I better let you go,” Dad announces suddenly, as if eager to be off. “I’m sure you have far better things to be doing than talking to me.”

  Was that a jibe? Instantly, my defenses go on the alert but I bite my tongue; I’m not going to rise to it. I won’t. “Actually, I did say I’d meet Sofia at the pub; you know, catch up with Jackie and Vinnie,” I tell him.

  “Well… have fun.”

  Here goes nothing. “You could come, if you want,” I suggest.

  “I don’t think so, Jessica,” he replies coolly.

  My heart sinks but I pick myself up. “Okay, well… I’ll see you in the next couple of days, I guess.”

  “You will, indeed. Goodbye, then.”

  “Yeah… bye,” I mutter as I hear the line go dead.

  I stare at the phone for a moment; well, at least I’ve made contact with him again, I suppose. I feel my stomach churning at the thought of visiting him; I don’t know what to expect on that front. Our conversation had been a weird one: starting hopeful (at least, I think it did) but quickly turning formal and distant; what will it be like when we’re actually in the same room, sitting opposite each other?

  Pushing those questions from my head, I stand and make my way to the bedroom to freshen up before heading out to The Green Dragon where, I have no doubt, I’ll get a very warm welcome.

  Chapter 7

  The Green Dragon is a welcome sight, I can tell you. It’s just off the main square of the village, all whitewashed stone with a thatched roof; there’s a sheltered area in the front for smokers and a beer garden out back with a glorious view of Ullswater. I pick up my pace, eager to get inside, out of the icy evening air and wrapped in the wonderful aromas of Vinnie’s cooking.