by Liz Eeles
‘I couldn’t have done it without all of you and the book club crew,’ I say, glancing at Jasmine, who’s standing in front of the window and using the side of her hand to push the tiny ash pile into an empty tissue.
‘Go on,’ she says. ‘Your public awaits. I’ll be right behind you.’
Everyone turns to look at me when I go back into the café and I start to feel a familiar gnawing in the pit of my stomach. Anyone would be anxious in these circumstances, I tell myself as Logan comes forward, takes my hand and leads me to the cake table. His boss Colin – a short barrel-shaped man with black sideburns and a comb-over – is waiting for us. I resist the urge to pull down the hemline of my dress, and clasp my hands together to stop them shaking.
Colin coughs to quieten the crowd and bows slightly to the assembled guests. ‘I won’t keep you from the magnificent cake, coffee and celebrations, I promise. But I wanted to say a few words to thank our wonderful French guests for joining us here this evening. This traditional Cotswolds Christmas party marks the end of your visit to England and I hope you’ve had a marvellous time. We very much look forward to continued successful trading with you in the new year and we wish you a joyeux noël. Finally, a thank you to Logan Fairweather, our dynamic sales manager, who organised this wonderful party with café manager…’ He glances down at the notes he’s carrying. ‘… Rebecca.’
‘Speech! Speech!’ yells Stanley from the corner where he’s been scoffing cake. I am so going to throttle him with his red and green elf hat. A band of anxiety tightens around my chest.
‘I’m not sure…’ I mutter.
‘Wish number four!’ shouts Stanley.
Conquer fear of public speaking. Why did I shove that wish on the list?
‘Of course,’ says Colin, stepping back and beckoning me forward. ‘Would you like to talk a little about the venue, Rebecca?’
I want to talk about the venue. I want to encourage people to spread the word about The Cosy Kettle, to boost business. But my nerves are getting the better of me. I glance at Flora, who’s looking anxious on my behalf, and then at Zac, who purses his lips and breathes out slowly, his eyes locked on mine. That’s it. I just need to breathe and I can do this.
‘Thank you, Colin and Logan,’ I say in a slightly wobbly voice. It’s really hard to breathe when you feel as if an elephant is sitting on your uplifted boobs. ‘It’s lovely to see you all here, in The Cosy Kettle which’ – I pause and swallow – ‘is a very special place. A year ago, where we’re standing was a dusty old storeroom but Flora and Callie from the bookshop breathed new life into the space. I was fortunate enough to be taken on to run the café and I love it. I really do.’ I look at the back of the room where the book club are lined up, all giving me a thumbs-up. ‘We welcome Honeyford residents and tourists here every day and I’m delighted to say that many of them have become friends. So it’s wonderful to see you all here tonight, enjoying the best that Honeyford can offer. Um, I think that’s it so I’ll let you get back to the party. Thank you, and have a very happy Christmas, everyone.’
Logan’s arm snakes around my waist as people raise their glasses of punch and gingerbread lattes to toast the festive season. ‘Lovely,’ he whispers in my ear. ‘Really lovely.’
Stanley sidles over and slips a piece of paper into my hand. ‘Boom!’ is all he says before scurrying off to carry out more elf duties.
I glance at the paper. It’s my wish list. Stanley has copied it down, and every single wish is crossed out. I did it! I achieved every wish and learned a lot along the way. I’m more assertive, more confident and more heartbroken than ever. I fold up the list and slip it into my clutch bag.
Twenty-Five
It’s almost eleven o’clock, the party has finished and only Logan and I are left behind. Everyone else has disappeared into the night.
‘That went absolutely brilliantly,’ says Logan, closing the bookshop door behind the last guest. He leans against the wooden frame and gives me his best smouldering smile. Good grief, he’s handsome. And he knows it. He pushes his hand through his thick blond hair and winks. ‘My promotion is in the bag – Colin as much as told me so – and that’s in no small part thanks to you, Becca. The party was amazing – just right, the café looked fabulous and as for you… you look fantastic in those very big boots and that very tiny dress.’
He moves close and puts his hands on my waist. ‘Are you up for going clubbing, then? I can’t wait to show you off to my friends. It’ll be you, me, a few Jack Daniels and then maybe back to mine for a nightcap.’
He raises his eyebrow before bending his head and kissing me. This isn’t a peck on the lips or a brief kiss in the café. This is a full-on, passionate snog and he’s very good at it. I kiss him back. I’m giving it some welly, and so is he, and it’s very, very pleasant. But that’s all. A month ago I would have expected fireworks and unadulterated lust to tingle from my head to my toes. But although my stomach flutters, especially when he runs his finger down my spine, it feels more like anxiety than anything else. The truth is, I feel more awkward than sexy. I’m all dolled up and was feeling buoyed up with confidence and relief after a successful evening, and Logan is his usual super-sexy self. But we’re just not gelling.
Before I made my wish list, if Logan had offered me a nightcap at his place I’d have bitten his hand off, but now… how do I know that I won’t end up just another notch on his bedpost? What was it Jasmine said about confident men like him? They’re often only really interested in themselves. And I really don’t know how I feel about him seeing me naked. Take off my posh frock and I go back to being my usual self and I’m not sure that’s who Logan wants. I’d have to stick my boobs out and hold my stomach in and present my best side at all times – not the side with the birth mark on my thigh. Zac saw it once, when I was wandering round in a bath towel, and reckoned it looked like a courgette… And here I am, in what should be a distracting clinch with a handsome man, and yet I’m still thinking about Zac.
I realise that I’m not concentrating on the kiss at all. My mouth and Logan’s are still jammed together but Logan has opened his eyes and is staring into my face. He drops his arms and steps away from me.
‘Is everything all right, Becca?’ He wipes the back of his hand across his lips.
‘Uh, yeah. Why?’
‘I get the feeling you’re a bit distracted.’
‘Sorry. It’s been a busy evening and I’m a bit tired.’
‘Too tired to go clubbing? Only my friends are there and I want to show you off in that dress. You look like a Christmas present that’s waiting to be unwrapped.’
He licks his lips and runs his finger down my bare arm while I try hard not to giggle. Logan is gorgeous and I’m sure he’s a lovely man underneath all the smouldering and cheesiness, but he’s definitely not the man for me.
‘That’s really kind of you but, actually, I’m exhausted after tonight. It was pretty full-on.’
‘Are you saying that you’re not coming clubbing with me?’ Logan cocks his head and grins.
‘I’m afraid not.’
Logan’s grin starts to fade. ‘You’re joking, right?’
‘No, I’m not up for going out tonight, but thank you for asking me.’
Logan looks confused. I don’t suppose women often turn him down. I can’t quite believe I’m turning him down myself. He’s perfect in so many ways – good-looking, successful, sexy. Maybe he and I would hit it off and could double date with Zac and Jasmine. But the very thought of that is like cold water being thrown over me.
Logan’s phone beeps with a text and he pulls his mobile from his trouser pocket. I spot the name Amelia before he opens the text and reads it.
‘Message from a friend?’
He smiles. ‘Yeah. Someone asking if I’m going to the club. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?’
I hesitate for a brief moment before shaking my head. ‘I need an early night. But I’m sure you’ll still have fun without me
.’
‘I’m sure I will,’ he huffs, feathers ruffled. Then he catches himself and smiles. ‘It’s a shame you’re not coming out with me. But thanks again for saving my bacon tonight. You and your friends did a brilliant job.’
‘Thanks. My friends are rather special.’
‘Especially the elf bloke. My guests absolutely loved him.’
‘Especially him,’ I laugh. ‘Stanley is one of a kind. Have a lovely night clubbing.’
Logan leans in and kisses me, but this time on the cheek. ‘Are you sure I can’t twist your arm? I promise you’d have a good time.’
‘I’m sure I would, but no thanks. You go and enjoy yourself.’
Well, that was bonkers, I tell myself as Logan lets himself out of the shop door and I lock it behind him. Rather than enjoying a night of passion with a gorgeous hunk I’ll be spending it at the cottage, in my sensible PJs, while Zac and Jasmine are probably getting it on in the bedroom next door. Merry Christmas, Becca!
I wander back into The Cosy Kettle which is looking rather unloved with dirty cups and crumbs everywhere. I’ll come in early tomorrow to clean up and get the place ready again for Christmas. It does look wonderful in its festive finery, but I’ll be happy to see it go back to its normal cosy, de-blinged self once the celebrations are over. I’m beginning to think The Cosy Kettle and I have a lot in common.
I’ve just put a handful of cups on the counter when I hear a noise in the garden. Grabbing the first heavy thing I can find – a very large china platter holding tiny cubes of cake – I walk quietly to the back door which is slightly ajar and peer around it. Someone is leaning over Santa’s sack in the gloom. Is he trying to steal presents? Summoning up all my courage, I creep into the garden until I’m within throwing distance, raise the platter with both hands and shout: ‘Oi, what do you think you’re doing?’
It’s only when the figure stands and spins around that I realise it’s Zac.
‘Hell’s teeth!’ Adrenaline courses through me as I lower the platter. ‘I thought you were a burglar.’
Zac raises his eyebrows. ‘And what if I was? You should be locking the door and calling the police, not confronting me on your own in a secluded garden.’
‘I’m all right. If you got antsy, I was going to throw this at you.’
Zac grins. ‘A big plate covered in cake? Were you going to Battenberg me to death, Rebecca?’
‘I’d have been all right. I’m stronger than I look and marzipan can be surprisingly stingy if it hits you in the face.’
‘Maybe, but I’m not sure you could wrestle me to the ground in that dress.’
‘I agree it’s not the best outfit for tackling a burglar.’
‘Far too short and tight.’
I look away so my eyes won’t betray my thoughts, because I’d so like to wrestle Zac to the ground right now… fling my arms around his neck and push him into the flower bed. It would ruin Millicent’s dress and probably give us both hypothermia, but it would be worth it to feel his arms around me.
Oh no. I’ve really got it bad which means, I realise with a sinking feeling, that I need to move out of our cottage after Christmas. I love living with Zac but, ironically, the fact that I’m actually in love with Zac means we can’t live together. I can’t be with him if he’s with my sister and, even if their fledgling relationship comes to nothing, it’s built up a wall between us.
Zac squints at me through the gloom. ‘So what’s going on then, Beccs?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What’s going on in that head of yours?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Really? You’re lying to the person who knows you better than just about anyone? You’ve got that faraway look which always gives you away when you’re fighting a battle in your head.’
‘No, really. Everything’s fine. I’m just a bit tired after this evening.’
‘If you say so.’ Zac stares at me for a moment before steering me back into the café and locking the back door behind us. ‘Hadn’t you better be leaving on your date?’
‘Talking of dates’ – I put the platter down on a nearby table and take a deep breath – ‘I want you to know that I’m OK about you and Jasmine. I haven’t mentioned it much because it’s pretty awkward. But she cares a lot about you and I love you both so it’s all right with me that…’ I stop, unable to go on.
Zac narrows his eyes. ‘Exactly how much have you had to drink, Becca? What on earth are you talking about?’
‘You and Jasmine being… you know. And it’s absolutely—’
I stop. I want to say fine. The word is on the tip of my tongue but I can’t say it. I can’t say it’s fine that Zac and Jazz are together because it’s not. I love them both and want them to be happy, but I can’t pretend.
I’m supposed to be all new and improved now my big Christmas wish has come true, and perhaps I should be able to pretend that all’s right with the world, but screw it. What’s the point of looking different and being different if all it does is make me feel even less at ease with myself? Zac and I were happy together before I started trying to be what I’m not. All that hard work and I’m pretty much still the same underneath it all, but one thing has changed. I feel braver – brave enough to tell the truth.
‘Actually Zac, I know this is going to mess up our friendship big-time, and I don’t suppose it’ll do much for my relationship with Jasmine, but I have to tell you something.’
‘What are you going on about?’ He glances at his watch. ‘It’s getting late. Logan will be waiting for you and I’m tired.’
‘He’s gone already.’
‘Gone where?’
‘To the club.’
‘Without you?’ Zac’s jaw drops and anger sparks in his eyes. ‘He’s left you here after promising to take you out? No wonder you’re being weird, Beccs. You must be so disappointed.’
‘I don’t care.’ When I shrug, the light catches my sequinned dress and tiny pinpoints of light scatter across The Cosy Kettle.
‘Of course you care. Securing a date with Logan was wish number five. But it’s his loss if he’s bailed on you. What a total arse.’
‘It was rather knackering trying to be the woman he expected.’
‘It sounds knackering, and why should you become the sort of woman he expected, anyway?’
‘You don’t expect anything of me, do you?’
‘I expect lots of you. For example’ – he starts ticking off things on his fingers – ‘paying your share of the rent on time, not leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor, making me unburned mince pies, never ever singing in the shower—’
‘I love you, Zac,’ I blurt out.
He stops and smiles. ‘I love you too, Beccs.’
‘No.’ I swallow hard. ‘What I mean is, I really love you, Zac, but I’ve been too busy trying to make my stupid wishes come true to properly realise it. And I know my feelings aren’t reciprocated and that’s all right but I just had to say it. And I’ll start looking for a new place to live on Monday. So that’s all good. Thank you very much for your time.’
Thank you very much for your time? I declare my unrequited love and then end my heartfelt confession as though I’m closing one of Jasmine’s marketing pitches. I’m still an idiot. I grab a cloth, turn my back on Zac and start scrubbing a table furiously, blinking back tears.
I’m suddenly aware of Zac standing so close behind me, his breath is warming the back of my neck. He reaches over my shoulder and gently takes the cloth from my hand.
‘What do you mean that you’re fine about me and Jasmine?’
I sniff and turn to face him.
‘You’re involved with Jasmine and that’s all right because I love you both and want you both to be happy.’
Zac slowly shakes his head. ‘I agreed to be Jasmine’s plus-one at her work do. That’s not involved.’
‘You’re involved because she stayed over that night and you and she—’ I start twitching my head and winking, unable t
o spell out what happened. I must look ridiculous.
‘She did stay over because the taxi driver was creepy and I wasn’t happy about her being in his cab on her own after they’d dropped me off. She told you that. But she slept in my bed and I slept on the sofa.’
‘The sofa?’
‘Yeah, which is pretty uncomfortable. I didn’t realise it was so lumpy.’
‘But if you and Jasmine weren’t together, why have you been so weird with me ever since?’
‘I haven’t been weird, though I guess I have been avoiding you a bit. To be honest, I was upset because I thought you were trying to set me up with your sister.’
‘Would that have been so awful?’
‘Yes.’
‘But she’s gorgeous. Why don’t you want to go out with my sister?’
‘Because, no offence, it would be off-the-scale odd. Jasmine’s lovely and all that but… she’s not you.’
‘But that’s good, isn’t it? She’s clever and she dresses like a model and she doesn’t get nervous about ridiculous things.’
‘That’s true. I bet she doesn’t pace up and down as though she’s caged in, or cry at adverts, or leave her shoes in the middle of the floor for people to fall over, or insist that the Jaffa Cake is a biscuit when the clue in clearly in the name.’
‘Exactly. What’s not to like?’
Zac smiles. ‘But I love all that about you.’
‘Even the shoe thing?’
‘Maybe not the shoe thing so much. But you’re real, Becca. You worry and feel things so strongly and it causes you pain sometimes but it makes you more human than anyone I’ve ever met. When Jazz and I went to her work do, she said I did nothing but talk about you all evening anyway. She guessed how I felt but then you were so excited about your date with Logan…’ He shakes his head. ‘Anyway, I tried to be a good friend and be happy for you so I—’
‘Hang on! Back up a bit. She guessed how I felt? What do you mean?’
Zac closes his eyes for a moment and sways gently back and forth on the balls of his feet. ‘Now isn’t the right time for a heart-to-heart.’