The Dragon was my second home growing up; still is, if I’m honest. Jackie de Luca and my mum were best friends and, when I was born, it seemed only natural for Jackie and Vinnie to become my godparents; growing up, I’d spent a huge chunk of my childhood here - in fact, Sofia and I had practically grown up together.
As I approach, I’m greeted by a few of the regulars huddled under the shelter as they enjoy a smoke. I smile back but don’t stop long; don’t get me wrong, I’d love a catch up but the idea of doing it encased in their cigarette smoke does not appeal at all.
Pushing the door open, I step inside, grateful for the familiar warmth, and noise, of the pub. Taking a moment to look around, I’m pleased to see that nothing has changed: the low ceilings with thick oak timbers from which hang beer mugs depicting scenes of Italy, one of Vinnie’s only demands when he and Jackie bought the place (that, and the fact that they have an extensive range of Italian food on the menu); the walls lined with lamps offering a warm, orange glow throughout the pub and on the far wall the huge fireplace, with a welcoming log fire, burning brightly.
Instantly, I feel welcomed here…
“Well, hello, again.”
I turn to find myself looking at the familiar, but not altogether unwanted, man of the dog/bear attack this morning. He’s grinning down at me, holding two pints but is content to just wait for me to speak. I clear my throat, blushing, as I realise that speaking is probably the polite, normal thing to do when someone’s just said hello. “Er, hi,” I mutter.
Seriously, what is wrong with me? Why can’t I seem to string two sentences together around this guy? I mean: he’s not that special. I mean, okay, yeah, he has a lovely smile and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen (even in this light) and he may look good, not only in running gear, but also in jeans and a fleece but… at the end of the day, he’s still just a guy; a guy that I can totally talk to without getting tongue-tied. And I’ll prove it. Just give me a second to get my brain into gear…
“So… you recovered from your encounter with Yogi, I take it?” he grins.
Oh, yes, that bloody dog: the one that ruined my hoodie. “Yeah, about that…” I begin, pushing my earlier thoughts aside; I need to be focused. “My hoodie’s practically ruined thanks to Yogi.”
The man, at least, had the decency to look guilty. “I’m sorry; you have no idea how often he does that to me, too.” He winks at me. “Looks like we have something in common; perhaps, next time, we can get dirty together.”
“Yes, well,” I mutter, trying not to imagine all the ways I could get dirty with this guy…
“Geez, man, what’s taking you so long?” a voice asks, stopping as he realises his friend is talking to me. The newcomer grins when he sees me. “Jess, you’re back!” he cries hugging me.
“Hey, Joe,” I smile as I gladly return the hug; Joe Stapleton is a local sergeant with Keldsthwaite Police. “I would have thought you’d have moved on by now.” It’s no secret that Joe wanted out of the sleepy little villages of the Lake District, enticed by the city life of Manchester or somewhere equally busy.
“Well, someone’s got to make sure this guy learns the ropes, haven’t they?” he jokes, clapping his friend on the back and nearly spilling their pints, in the process. “Can you believe it’s been two years and he still needs my help in the job?”
“Shut up; you’ll give her the wrong idea.” The stranger glances at me. “Just so you know, I’m excellent at my job.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Humble, too, I see.”
Joe glances between us. “So, how do you two know each other?”
“We don’t really,” I explain quickly, ignoring the stranger’s amused look.
“She met Yogi this morning,” the man explains.
Joe laughs, clearly finding something funny in the words that I couldn’t see. “I see. Well, let me officially introduce you: Glenn, this is Jess Harrison, runaway daughter of Keldsthwaite.” I bristle at his choice of words but he either ignores me or hasn’t caught my annoyance. “Jess, this is Glenn Campbell, fellow sergeant in arms at Keldsthwaite Police.”
Oh God, he’s a policeman; now I’m left with the image of him in uniform… Pushing those traitorous thoughts aside, I raise an eyebrow, forcing myself to get back to the conversation at hand. “Glenn Campbell?” I ask. “Isn’t he a singer?”
Glenn glances down at his boots, avoiding my gaze. “Okay; my mum was a big fan,” he mumbles.
“His nickname, down the station, is Rhinestone,” Joe pipes up and I can’t help laughing along with him.
“Thanks for that, mate,” Glenn mutters, clearly embarrassed. “Well, on that note… we’d better leave you to it.”
I’m still smiling at Glenn’s discomfort; he obviously wants to go and hide in a corner to recover from this revelation. “Well, I’ll see you later.”
Joe points at me as he wanders away in Glenn’s wake. “Jess, you and me… we have to catch up, yeah?” he calls back.
I nod, wondering when I’ll have the chance to catch up with everybody; maybe I should just call a meeting in the village hall and hit it in one shot. “Yeah, okay.”
I watch them as they return to their table before I head over to the bar, crowded with regulars, either standing or perched on stools, all lost in their own conversations. “Excuse me,” I mutter, making my way to the front.
“You’re here!” Sofia cries, leaning across the bar and hugging me. Releasing me, she looks around. “Holly with you?”
“What do you think?” I ask, perching myself on a stool.
Sofia sighs, grabbing a glass and filling it with lemonade. “If anyone, I thought you’d be the one to get her out.”
“Well, she does have the kids to think about, you know,” I remind her. With her perpetual single life, Sofia sometimes forgets that others have responsibilities and can’t just drop everything for a night out.
Sofia scoffs. “Yeah, I know that, Jess; give me some credit,” she mutters. “You know there are such things as babysitters, though, right?”
I laugh at the idea. “Oh yeah; I can just see Josh going for that.”
“Josh behaved for me when I looked after them a few weeks ago,” she points out.
“That’s probably because he fancies you,” I retort. “Teenage hormones and all that.”
Sofia shudders as she pushes my drink towards me. “Okay, now you’ve made that very weird.”
I smile. “Sorry,” I say taking a sip.
Sofia leans against the bar, fixing me with a look I know all too well – unfortunately. “So… I saw you talking to Glenn.”
I nod. “That’s right,” I agree, determined not to make this easy on her.
Sofia rolls her eyes. “So what’s going on there?” she demands. “I mean, you’re back for one day and already you’re hitting on the gorgeous local cop.”
I splutter into my drink, spraying lemonade everywhere - lovely. Wiping my mouth, I ignore Sofia’s cackle of delight. “I was not hitting on him,” I protest. “We were just talking.”
Sofia glances towards the other end of the pub; following her gaze, I see she’s located Glenn and Joe. I quickly look away before Glenn catches me staring. “It’s not a crime to like him, you know,” Sofia points out. “I wouldn’t blame you.”
“Yeah, well, I hardly know him.”
Sofia pokes my arm. “Then get to know him,” she suggests.
“And, what would be the point in that?” I ask, ignoring the pang of disappointment as the words leave my lips. “I’m going back to London in four weeks.”
Sofia holds my gaze for a moment and I have the feeling she wants to say something but then thinks better of it. “You know, he’s been here two years and he hasn’t had a relationship in all that time.” She narrows her eyes at him. “I’m beginning to think he’s a monk… or gay,” she adds as an afterthought.
I laugh. “So, because someone hasn’t had a relationship in two years, you think he’s either a monk or gay?” I ask.
/> She shrugs, saying nothing; sometimes her way of thinking defies all logic.
“Sofia, where’s your brother? I need him -”
We both turn as Vinnie enters the bar, in his chef whites; the question hangs, unfinished, as he spots me sitting on the other side of the bar. His face breaks into a smile, the skin around his eyes creasing, as he reaches across the bar, taking my hands in his. Smiling back at him, I note he doesn’t look any different, apart from, perhaps, a few more grey hairs at his temples.
“Ah, ma Bella, you are back!” he cries, barely holding back tears of joy. Vincenzo De Luca is a true Italian in every sense of the word; he wears every single emotion on his sleeve and doesn’t care who knows it. Kissing my hands, he releases them before turning back to the kitchen and poking his head around the door. “Jackie, our bambina’s back!”
I cringe as I hear a crash from the kitchen.
Sofia looks at me. “Hope you’re prepared for this,” she mutters, tears already in her eyes; despite her determination to pretend otherwise, at times, she is just like her father.
Jackie appears in the doorway, statuesque and beautiful as always, despite wearing only minimal make-up; her long blonde hair is tied up and shoved unceremoniously beneath a hairnet and hat. On seeing me, she smiles but, unlike her husband, she walks over to the hatch. As she lifts it, I go to meet her. She pulls me into a hug as I, unexpectedly, break down in her arms.
Chapter 8
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, wiping my eyes with a tissue Jackie’s given to me.
“Oh, nonsense,” she mutters, waving my apology away. “If we can’t cry with family, then who can we cry with?”
I shake my head; this was not how I had imagined seeing Jackie again. I wanted it to be happier; I wanted us to hug and to launch into telling each other about what we’d been up to these past few years (admittedly, my story would be quite short and depressing, but still… it would have been preferable to this). Instead, what do I do? Burst into tears in front of the whole bloody pub, and having to be taken through to the back.
To make matters worse, I’d caught sight of Glenn’s concerned look as Jackie had ushered me through the bar.
Great job, Jess; way to make an impression, I suppose.
I’m not sure why that’s bothering me so much and, quite frankly, it isn’t something I want to dwell on, right now.
Sitting on the sofa, Jackie squeezes my hand. “I’m so glad you’re back,” she tells me. “I’ve missed you, Jess; it’s not the same talking on the phone.”
I smile, knowing exactly how she feels. “I know; you should come visit. I could show you and Vinnie around London; you could both come with Sofia when she visits next.”
She scoffs at the idea. “And who would mind the bar while we all traipse off to London?”
“Tony,” I point out. “And I’m sure Matty wouldn’t mind helping out.” Matty’s Sofia’s other brother, the middle child in the de Luca family.
Jackie watches me for a moment. “So you’re really not coming back, then?”
I can hear the sadness in her voice and it pulls at my heart. “I don’t know,” I confess quietly. “Maybe one day but… not now, not until…” I pause, not wanting to cry again. Taking a breath, I continue, “I didn’t know what it would be like coming back here,” I say, finally putting my thoughts into words.
Jackie’s eyes soften. “And what has it been like?” she asks gently.
“Weird,” I admit, after some thought. “I mean, everything’s exactly as I left it… mostly, anyway,” I add with a smile. “But… it’s all different, somehow.”
“How, exactly?” Jackie presses.
I shake my head. “It’s going to sound really stupid.”
Jackie laughs softly. “And that coming from the girl who once told everyone Paddington had been found at King’s Cross; Jess, I think we passed ‘stupid’ a long time ago.”
I blush at the, almost forgotten, memory. “You won’t let me forget that, will you?”
She shakes her head. “Not when it’s still so funny, no.” She pauses, before asking, “So…?”
I sigh, dropping my gaze to the carpet; somehow I can’t face looking at her when I say this. “It still feels so… wrong,” I whisper. “I mean: I know it’s been five years but-”
“Oh, darling, I know,” Jackie agrees, pulling me close again. “I know; I still think she’s going to walk into the pub at any moment, dragging your dad behind her.”
I close my eyes for a moment, as she begins stroking my hair, a gesture that has always comforted me.
“But your mum wouldn’t want to see you like this,” Jackie continues. “She would hate knowing that you and Thomas aren’t-”
“I spoke to Dad today.”
“You did?” she asks and I can hear the hope in her voice. “And what did he say?”
I shrug. “Not much, as per.”
Jackie remains silent for a moment and, when I lift my gaze to her, I find her watching me like a hawk. “Don’t be too hard on him, Jess,” she advises. “He lost a lot when he lost Sandy.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“He just never knew how to handle it,” Jackie reasons, “and it became easier to push people away than to actually face his feelings.”
“He didn’t have to push me away, though,” I mutter petulantly.
“I know, I know,” she sighs, drawing me to her once more. “But you had your own misguided way of dealing with it; you’ve just been better at coming back from it.”
I consider her words for a moment; I know she’s right – not that that makes this situation any easier. “I said I’d visit him in a few days but I’m not sure I can do it alone.” I look at her. “Will you come with me?”
She looks uncertain. “Jess, I’m not sure that’s wise… it may look like an ambush.”
“Please, Jackie,” I beg.
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart; you need to see him alone, otherwise it could push him further away.”
I nod, knowing she’s right - again. “Yeah… okay.”
“Don’t worry; your dad has missed you, even though he may not want to admit it.”
“So, he’s not actually said that?” I ask.
“Well, no… not in so many words,” Jackie concedes. “But I know him, so trust me when I say that he’s missed you.”
I nod, wishing I could believe her; I trust Jackie, I do, but I also know my dad and he isn’t one to back down easily. Maybe he does miss me but that doesn’t mean everything will be magically fixed with one visit, however much I may want it.
Chapter 9
“She really said that?” Holly asked, her excitement clear.
Now that the tearooms are quieter, we finally had the chance to talk about what Jackie had said to me last night; her words had kept me up half the night and I wasn’t sure whether I should call dad this morning – you know, just to keep the lines of communication open – but decided against it. Too much, too soon, might send him scurrying into hiding again.
I nod. “Yep; according to her, he’s missed me.”
“So you really do have a chance of getting your relationship back on track!” she exclaims.
See, this was why I was in two minds about telling her about my conversation with Jackie; Holly has always been the eternal optimist, hoping for the best but, more often than not, ending up disappointed – just look at her and Mike; she always thought he’d change but we all know how that ended, don’t we?
Me, on the other hand… well, I deal with things as they happen; I don’t think ahead, I certainly don’t allow myself to hope. Hope gets you hurt; it sets you up for a fall.
“I don’t know,” I mutter.
“Oh, come on, Jess; if he’s missed you, it must mean that he wants to fix things between you.”
I’m quiet for a moment, letting my doubts creep in. “What if Jackie was just saying that to make me feel better?”
Holly frowns. “Do you think she would?”
<
br /> I think for a moment; do I really think Jackie would say something like that just to make me to feel better? I shake my head. “Probably not.”
“Exactly! Oh, this is so exciting! Just think, you came back here to help me but then end up helping yourself and your dad!” Holly points out.
I nod, wondering if that could be the case. However, I don’t get long to think about it as the door to the tearooms opens and Amy comes bursting over to us.
“The tree’s going up!” she exclaims excitedly. “It’s massive this year.”
“Is it?” I mutter, my interest in this subject virtually zero.
“Yeah, bigger than the one last year,” she continues, oblivious to my lack of enthusiasm. “Jess, you’ll be around this year; will you come with us to the switch on? It’s next Saturday.”
I make a face; the last thing I want to do is stand around in the village square watching as a tree’s lit up. “Um… I would but… Someone has to watch this place, especially if your mum’s taking you.”
Holly shakes her head. “No one needs to mind this place; everyone will be at the ceremony,” she says. “I shut this place for half an hour last year so we could watch the lights being switched on and then we came back here and served everyone hot chocolate.”
“Mum made the chocolates and me, Dad and Josh served everyone,” Amy adds, her smile faltering at the mention of her father.
Holly hesitates only a moment before nudging me. “Come on, it’ll be fun,” she says, no doubt an attempt to keep the conversation flowing for Amy’s sake.
I groan, looking between them; it would be so easy to refuse them. I could stay here, in the quiet, while everyone else stood out in the cold…
“Come on,” Holly pleas, cutting into my thoughts. “It’s been ages since we’ve gone there together as a group; the kids have missed it.”
I glance at Amy to see her giving me her best puppy dog eyes. “Pleease, Auntie Jess…” she begs.
I hold my hands up in surrender, knowing I’ve lost this one. “Okay, fine, whatever,” I mutter, unable to keep the grin from my face as Holly and Amy high-five each other across the counter.
All I Want For Christmas (A Sweet, Contemporary Romance) (Romance In The Lakes Book 1) Page 4