by Heidi Swain
He sounded almost impatient. Perhaps Dolly wasn’t the only one who needed an early night.
‘OK,’ I said, ‘well, thanks again.’
‘No need to thank me,’ he sniffed. ‘A trip to the Cherry Tree Café isn’t exactly a hardship.’
‘Fair enough.’
I really wasn’t sure how to read him. I’d never seen him without a ready smile on his lips and a warm remark to accompany it.
‘It won’t be a very early drop off though,’ he said gruffly. ‘I haven’t got to go to bed tonight worrying about that blasted boiler, so I think I deserve to get up when I wake up, rather than when my alarm dictates, don’t you?’
‘Absolutely,’ I agreed, pointing at Dolly who was now yawning again, ‘and you aren’t the only one.’
*
In spite of the very grown-up things that had happened over the last few days, waking up in the cottage on the first day of the Christmas holidays, I felt about ten years old. Dolly and I had a great day planned – baking at home, followed by tea in town and finishing with the Santa parade and the last opportunity to indulge in some late-night shopping. And I was still hoping there would also be time to squeeze in a visit to the Winter Wonderland before the Wynthorpe clan closed their doors at the end of the weekend.
I couldn’t help thinking that the prospect of it all felt almost as exciting as the arrangements I had made for the previous weekend. I only hoped Jonathan didn’t have plans to arrive and scupper these too.
For someone who had decided to end her long-term relationship I was hardly mourning its death. If anything, I felt better than I had in ages. It was as if Jonathan had been slowly poisoning me, then Dolly had rescued me and provided the antidote to draw him out. Her remedy, combined with my contrasting friendship with Beamish, Mum’s revelations and Jonathan’s show of aggression had completely vindicated my decision to break it all off and there was no way I was going to let him tie me up in knots and have me thinking what he’d done was my fault. I may have been facing the new year with no job and no roof over my head but, in the exciting build-up to Christmas, they felt like minor details.
All I had to do now was work out how to tell Jonathan that our relationship was over, but even that didn’t feel quite such a daunting prospect with him so far away, and I certainly wasn’t going to let thoughts of it ruin mine and Dolly’s plans.
I could hear my friend moving about in the kitchen and threw back the covers, much to Tiddles disgust, and went down to join her.
‘Morning, Dolly,’ I smiled as she set the radio to Classic FM and the angelic voices of the King’s College Choir filled the room. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘If I didn’t know better,’ she said, turning the volume down a notch, ‘I’d say I was a little hungover.’
‘Well,’ I laughed, ‘the fizz was pretty free-flowing yesterday afternoon.’
Dolly nodded and stirred some dissolvable painkillers into a glass of water. She must have been feeling rough. I don’t think I’d ever seen her take medication before, not even when she broke her wrist the year we became firm friends.
‘And how are you feeling about this exciting new phase of your life?’ I asked. ‘Has it sunk in yet?’
‘No,’ she said, grimacing as she took a swig. ‘It just feels like the Christmas holidays as opposed to holidays for ever and no going back.’
‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll grace them with your presence at some point. What’s in that bag?’
‘Something for you,’ she told me. ‘It was propped up against the front door and there was a note pushed through the letterbox.’
Apparently, Jemma at the café started early and, as Beamish had woken even earlier than his usual time, he’d been and got the bits and pieces I’d asked for already. His note was brief, brisk almost, and given the strange mood he’d fallen into at the end of yesterday I wasn’t surprised he hadn’t slept.
‘What is it?’ Dolly asked, distracting me from wondering what might have caused it.
‘Everything we need to tick off something I added to the Wish List after you’d gone to the bed last night,’ I grinned, grabbing the list and handing it to her.
‘Oh, how lovely,’ she smiled back, her eyes shining. ‘I haven’t made a gingerbread house for years!’
‘Me neither,’ I said, opening the reusable shopper which was stamped with the Cherry Tree logo. ‘Not since I moved into the hotel, but let’s have some breakfast first. I’ve a hankering for a bacon butty this morning.’
‘I think I’ll stick to toast,’ said Dolly, looking a little green around the gills.
After breakfast I cleared a space at the table and we set about following the list of instructions Jemma had included with the kit. Apparently, the houses had been a popular addition to the café’s seasonal market stall and as we set to, I could see why. Everything was conveniently labelled and already weighed out so there was very little for me to mess up.
‘Mum and I always used to make a house when I was little,’ I told Dolly as I began to stir the ingredients together. ‘And we would spend ages decorating it. It was never quite straight and there would always be one wall or one side of the roof which wanted to give up before the others, but we tried our best.’
‘That sounds like a very happy memory,’ Dolly smiled.
She was feeling a little brighter now the painkillers had worked their magic and she’d had something to eat.
‘It is,’ I smiled. ‘And I’ve realised in the last few days, that I have lots of them. Ever since I had that first email from Mum they’ve been crowding in thick and fast.’
‘I’m sure they’ve always been there.’
‘I’m sure they have too,’ I agreed, stirring faster, ‘but all the time we were divided after Jonathan’s meddling, I never allowed myself to think about them. I put both my parents and the happiest memories of my childhood out of my mind and never let them in.’
I would never be able to forgive Jonathan for that. When he came on the scene things between me and my parents were already fragile but he made sure he smashed the relationship we had left to smithereens and if he’d had his way, we never would have found a way to repair it.
‘Just think if that card hadn’t been sent,’ I said, feeling a shudder run through me as I imagined myself accepting Jonathan’s proposal and moving abroad.
‘Best not to,’ said Dolly, patting my hand and leaning closer in to check we were doing everything in the right order. ‘Now come on, concentrate on the job in hand.’
I did my best, but it was hard work trying to banish thoughts of my deceitful other half, and I wasn’t the only one struggling to shove him out of the spotlight.
‘You know,’ Dolly said bitterly, as we carefully slid the tins into the oven, ‘I can’t help thinking he’s made a fool out of both of us. He knew I had misgivings about him after he decked that poor chap, and he also knew I’d never voice them for fear of losing you. That said,’ she added with a frown, ‘I never would have suspected him of orchestrating you cutting your parents out of your life. Granted, some things might not have added up, but that was too extreme to be plausible. Or so I thought.’
‘That’s because you see the good in everyone, Dolly,’ I told her. ‘You’re the sort of person who always hopes for the best in others as well as in life. I used to be like you.’
Her expression changed as she turned to face me.
‘Don’t you let what that man’s done change that, Hattie.’ She said sternly. ‘There are still folk in the world with pure goodness running through their veins.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Yes, she said, ‘Beamish for a start. There’s a man with not an ounce of malice in him.’
‘All right,’ I conceded. ‘I’ll let you have Beamish, but he’s the exception, not the rule.’
Slowly the smell of gingerbread permeated every nook and cranny in the cottage and I was relieved the walls were going to need trimming so we would have plenty to nibble on as we shaped the
framework of the house once it had cooled. There were also a couple of boiled sweets left over after we had crushed enough to make the stained-glass windows.
‘More snow,’ muttered Dolly, as she stood at the kitchen window.
‘Really?’
‘Yep,’ she said, shifting over so I could see, ‘look. There’s not much to speak of yet, but if it keeps up . . .’
‘I’ll end up snowed in for Christmas,’ I grinned.
I rather liked the thought of being cut off from the rest of the world. I could always find somewhere with enough signal to Skype my parents to wish them seasonal salutations and the Wynbridge wind could stir up deep enough snowdrifts to keep Jonathan at bay should he decide to try and make a return visit once I had told him what I had decided.
‘You don’t sound as though you’d mind being here a bit longer,’ Dolly chuckled.
‘Of course, I wouldn’t,’ I laughed. ‘I can’t imagine there’s anywhere more perfect in the entire world than Wynbridge to spend Christmas in.’
‘Well I never,’ Dolly smiled, ‘you really have had a festive turnaround, haven’t you?’
‘Just a bit,’ I smiled back.
‘In that case,’ she said, ‘I hope you know that you would be more than welcome to spend Christmas with me if you wanted to.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ she confirmed. ‘Unless you’d rather be with your parents. I had thought about asking before, but didn’t want you to feel obliged.’
‘Obliged?’
I had no idea why she would think I’d feel that. I had assumed she hadn’t mentioned me staying on because she was looking forward to having the cottage to herself again.
‘Because I’m here all on my own,’ she said, colouring slightly.
‘You mean, you wouldn’t want a pity guest staying under your pretty roof,’ I teased. ‘Someone who was staying because they would otherwise feel guilty about leaving you on your lonesome.’
‘Something like that.’
I was trying to make her laugh again, but it didn’t work. I hoped I hadn’t offended her.
‘Oh Dolly,’ I said, pulling her into a gentle embrace. ‘I’ve never known anyone with as many friends as you’ve got. I’ve barely ever seen you on your own, but none the more for that, I would love to spend Christmas with you.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘But what about your parents?’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘we’re definitely going to see each other within the next few days and I’m really looking forward to spending time with them and getting everything straightened out, but I wouldn’t want to put our first get-together under too much pressure.’
‘That does make sense,’ Dolly pondered, ‘Christmas can be tricky. Everyone has such high expectations and with everything else you’ve had going on between you.’
‘Exactly.’ I enthusiastically agreed. ‘So, I’m more than happy to keep our first few visits brief. I’m sure everything will be fine but I don’t want to force the situation and rush things.’
‘That’s fair enough. Very sensible actually.’
‘I think so,’ I said. ‘And of course, that means I can spend Christmas with you Dolly, and we’ll be able to add even more things to the Wish List, won’t we?’
Dolly smiled again and I knew she believed that I was staying because I wanted to, not because I felt sorry for her, which was totally true.
‘That’s settled then,’ she said, sounding as pleased as I was about the arrangements. ‘And Angus will be over the moon about this weather,’ she added, looking out of the window again as the snow began to fall faster. ‘This is just what the Winter Wonderland needs.’
‘I was so disappointed to miss my visit,’ I told her.
‘Well, we’ll just have to see if you can get there this weekend,’ said Dolly. ‘I’m sure Beamish will be happy to take you.’
Given the funny mood he’d fallen into all of a sudden, I wasn’t so sure.
‘I’m certain he’d do anything for you, Hattie,’ she said lightly.
My heart hammered at the thought.
*
I’d forgotten how long it took to make a gingerbread house, but spending the rest of the day shaping, constructing and decorating was a pleasurable luxury. The only thing I didn’t enjoy was how my mind kept flitting back to Jonathan and how I was going to break the news of our break-up to him. I had been naïve to think that I could shut the imminent task out, even with the distraction of Christmas and the ever-growing Wish List.
‘If I were you,’ said Dolly as she took a step back to admire her creative skills with the piping bag. ‘I wouldn’t put it off much longer.’
‘You’re right,’ I agreed. There was no need to ask what she was referring to. ‘I’m going to do it tomorrow.’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I’m pleased. It will be a relief to get it off your chest and out of the way. It’s one thing to have made the decision but now you need to act on it.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘And I can’t imagine it’s going to come as a complete surprise to him, can you?’
Dolly let out a long breath.
‘Who knows?’ she said. ‘He’s hardly predictable, is he? I mean, anyone in their right mind would be thinking that they’d cooked their goose, but this is Jonathan we’re talking about and I’m not sure he knows what his right mind is.’
‘He always thought the rules didn’t apply to him, didn’t he?’
There was no denying his arrogance. I had once considered it confidence, but now the scales had dropped I had recategorised an awful lot of his personality traits.
‘At least he’s stayed away like I asked. I told him to leave me alone and I haven’t heard a peep out of him.’
It was out of character for him not to keep pushing and doing what he wanted as opposed to what someone else had asked of him. Perhaps the marks he’d left on me had shocked him into submission.
‘That’s true,’ said Dolly. ‘And I’m certain however he reacts you’ll feel better for having it all sorted. And remember; he can’t reach you through the screen or down the telephone line. You have to be strong.’
‘Yes,’ I said, imagining what a relief it would be to have it ended, ‘yes, I’m sure you’re right. Now,’ I added, keen to move our thoughts on, ‘let’s get ready to go, otherwise we’ll miss our table at the Cherry Tree.’
Apparently, it wasn’t unusual to have to book a table at the café at peak times now and, as Dolly and I climbed out of the taxi she had insisted on because of the snow, I could see that this particular evening was indeed a peak time for the town. It felt even busier than the night of the switch-on but that could have been because I felt such a part of the place and knew so many people.
We had barely taken a step before we stopped to talk to someone. Three weeks was all it had taken to integrate back into this warm and vibrant community which had welcomed me with open arms. I had no idea what my future now held, but I couldn’t help wishing, as Dolly and I finally made it over the café threshold, that it would include Wynbridge or a town very much like it, assuming there were any others left.
‘Welcome, ladies,’ said Jemma as she came over to talk us through the menu she had put together for the evening.
The place was chock-a-block and yet she was the epitome of calm. Everything was running like a well-oiled machine and I admired her immensely.
‘It’s a set menu this week,’ she explained. ‘Makes our lives so much easier. Shall I give you a moment or would you like to order drinks now and I can come back for your food order in a minute?’
‘Let’s do drinks now,’ said Dolly.
‘And I want to thank you for the gingerbread house components, Jemma,’ I smiled up at her. ‘What an inspired idea to sell everything in kit form.’
‘It’s been so popular,’ she laughed, ‘I can’t think why I didn’t come up with it sooner. We’ve sold biscuit and cookie sets before at Christmas, but this has been the
most ambitious so far and totally worth it. So many people have said they’ve never made one but the kits have encouraged them to have a go.’
‘Well, it certainly made it easy,’ I agreed. ‘We’re thrilled with ours, aren’t we, Dolly?’
‘Yes,’ Dolly agreed. ‘It’s a total triumph.’
‘I’m asking for photographs of the finished houses to pin up on the wall,’ Jemma continued, nodding to where there was a vast cork board displaying community news and events. ‘And next year we’re thinking about adding a gingerbread house competition to the bake sale.’
‘That’s a lovely idea,’ said Dolly. ‘I’m sure you’ll be inundated with entries.’
I didn’t reckon much for the chances of some of them transporting all that well.
‘Including yours I hope, Dolly,’ Jemma went on with a cheeky wink. ‘You’ll be able to enter two now you’re going to have all this extra time on your hands.’
‘Now there’s an idea,’ I laughed.
‘It’s a shame you won’t be here to take part, Hattie,’ Jemma rushed on.
I was itching to tell her that I might come back to compete, but kept my lips locked.
‘And if you do find yourself at a loose end, Dolly,’ she continued, pointing at the board again. ‘I’m in need of weekend staff.’
‘Thank you, Jemma,’ said Dolly. ‘I’ll keep it in mind, but I wouldn’t hold your breath.’
Jemma grinned and headed back to the kitchen.
‘You know,’ I said, nudging Dolly as I leant forward to read the small print on the advert, ‘when I grow up, I want to be like Jemma.’
‘Don’t we all,’ Dolly laughed.
The Santa parade was a sight not to be missed. The pavements were lined three deep in some places as the Wynthorpe Hall sleigh made its way sedately around the market square pulled by a couple of stout ponies. I was fairly certain it was Angus Connelly at the reins but I couldn’t be sure.
The lap ended under the huge Christmas tree and the adults began to line up, their children bouncing about them while they waited for their turn to be handed a gift from Santa himself. I was surprised I recognised so many of the rosy-cheeked little faces and Dolly and I waved enthusiastically back to a few who spotted us amongst the crowd.