by Heidi Swain
‘Dolly tells me there’s been a rather unfortunate pudding placement,’ she laughed. ‘Give us a flash!’
I gave everyone a quick glimpse to get it over with.
‘Very eye-catching,’ said Mr Matthews, who had just wandered in and turned rather pink.
‘Hence the cardigan,’ I explained, turning red myself. ‘The jumper was actually a gift from Dolly,’ I added, lest everyone assumed it was something which I had packed from home or purchased on purpose.
‘Well I like it,’ said Beamish, following in behind Mr Matthews.
‘Of course, you do,’ said Rose, rolling her eyes.
‘What are you going to do this afternoon, Hattie?’ Mr Matthews asked. ‘You’ll be far too hot serving dinners and supervising the party with that extra layer on.’
‘I was rather hoping Beamish might turn the heating down a bit.’
‘No chance,’ he said, ducking out again. ‘That thermostat stays exactly as it is and I’ll know if anyone’s been in the boiler room. I’ve got the place rigged.’
Mr Matthews was right. As the children excitedly took their place for dinner and pulled their crackers, the noise level as well as the temperature, began to rise. They were all much amused to be waited on by their teachers and TAs and by the time the main course had been served, I was sweltering.
‘Take it off for pity’s sake,’ said Dolly when she spotted me fanning myself with a menu next to the serving hatch. ‘No one’s going to notice.’
I did as I was told and kept my arms folded until it was time to clear plates and then I held the stack in front of me. I think my struggle made the meal even jollier for the staff but I was nowhere near as amused.
‘We get extra play today, Miss,’ said Charlie, one of the boys in my class, as I handed out the snowman-shaped ice creams.
‘I know you do, you lucky things. That’s so we can all have our dinner.’
‘Will you sit in here, on these titchy chairs?’ he giggled.
‘We will,’ I told him.
‘However, will Mr Beamish fit on one of these?’ he gasped.
‘He’ll break it,’ joined in his neighbour. ‘It’ll never take his weight.’
I imagined there were going to be more than a couple of faces pressed up against the windows when it was time for us to eat.
‘Come on, you two,’ I said. ‘The sooner you’re done, the longer you’ll have outside.’
As it turned out, Mr Beamish managed admirably on his chair with his knees peeping above the top of the table. I did notice him shifting a couple of times so he couldn’t have been all that comfortable, but he didn’t let on.
‘Party time!’ yelled the children as they were led back into school.
‘Party time,’ the staff responded, rather less enthusiastically.
By the time the support staff, including Beamish, had hastily rearranged the hall, set up the snack table, fired up the candy floss machine (which in my opinion was pure madness), found an age-appropriate playlist and checked there were enough prizes for the games, Dolly was looking exhausted.
‘Are you all right, Dolly?’ I called over to her.
I tried to sound casual so she didn’t think I was fussing.
‘I’m done in,’ she shocked me by saying and I wasn’t the only one taken by surprise. A fair few heads swung around in her direction.
‘In that case,’ said Mr Matthews, sounding more authoritative than I had ever heard him, ‘I’ve got just the job for you.’
Dolly readily accepted his suggestion and initially I wasn’t sure if that was because he was the boss or if she was really feeling that tired, but on closer inspection, I decided on the latter.
‘Do you think she’s all right?’ I asked Beamish as Mr Matthews fetched her a chair and sat her down next to the snack table which she was going to be supervising.
‘On any other day I’d say yes, but she does look tired, doesn’t she?’
‘I’m beginning to wonder if having me to stay is a bit too much for her,’ I frowned. ‘She won’t let me do a thing back at the cottage.’
‘Oh no,’ said Beamish. ‘I’m certain that’s not it. If anything, I think having you there has been a tonic. She was really quite unwell when she caught that cold.’
This cold which had plagued her had been mentioned before, but Dolly had never spoken about it directly to me and I couldn’t remember any telephone conversations where she’d sounded bunged up.
‘She kept herself shut away for a good couple of weeks,’ he went on, ‘and of course these last few weeks of term are always heavy going. You’ve been a great help, Hattie, and think about how energetic she was on the ice.’
That was true. She had positively whizzed around the rink putting many of the youngsters to shame.
‘These next few months are going to be such a change for her,’ Beamish continued. ‘Not coming into school is going to take some getting used to, even if she does keep saying she’s ready to give it up. It’s all bound to take a bit of a toll.’
‘And I should be with her, shouldn’t I?’ I said, biting my lip. ‘That’s when she’s really going to need me and I’m going to be halfway across the world.’
‘You haven’t gone yet,’ he smiled, nudging me. ‘There’s still hope.’
Thankfully, there was no time for me to try and work out if there was a hidden meaning behind that comment. Beamish went back to his chores and I didn’t have a chance to talk to Dolly either as the hall doors were wrenched open and the children charged in, drowning out the requests from their teachers not to run amok.
‘Every year I tell myself I’m calling in sick on party day,’ said Rose, less than half an hour later, ‘and every year I turn up.’
‘It really wouldn’t be fair to let everyone else take the strain, would it?’
‘No,’ she said, ‘I suppose not, but my god it’s tempting.’
‘Here we go, look,’ said Paul, who had been trying to get everyone’s attention so he could set up a quiet game of pass the parcel, ‘reinforcements.’
Three members of the PTA had kindly shown up to help out and just as Paul was on the point of shouting himself hoarse, Alison marched in from reception and gave three sharp blasts on a whistle. The children stopped in their tracks and we quickly corralled them into two circles.
‘Run back to class and get my whistle would you please, Hattie?’ Paul asked me, looking a little embarrassed. ‘I should have thought of it earlier.’
The afternoon was exhausting, but great fun and the children weren’t the only ones with sweaty face by the time three o’clock rolled around. Thanks to Dolly being in situ next to the snacks there were far fewer children feeling nauseous than I had expected, and the only injury was a grazed knee.
‘Well if you will skid across the floor with bare legs,’ I heard Rose saying to a tearful girl as she led her out.
‘Not a single clash of heads,’ Paul said cheerfully, as the children lined up to go back to class. ‘I’d call that a success, wouldn’t you?’
As far as I was concerned the whole day had been a success. I’d had a far better time than I imagined I would and I was looking forward to getting home with Dolly and ticking a few things off the Wish List. I was definitely in the swing of it all now; my festive memory slots were filling up fast and keeping busy was helping distract me from mulling over the unfortunate Christmas card incident, my crush on Beamish and my silence about Jonathan.
‘How are you feeling?’ I asked Dolly as I emptied the last of the snacks which had been subjected to so many hot little hands, into a bin bag.
‘Much better,’ she said. ‘I’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching you joining in wearing that jumper.’
I’d forgotten all about my flashing boobs.
‘I think we can safely tick Christmas clothes off the Wish List,’ I laughed. ‘And Christmas party.’
‘Yes,’ she smiled back. ‘This wasn’t quite what I had in mind when we added that one, but this afternoon just abou
t covers it.’
‘And tomorrow it’s the bake sale and auction in town. I can’t wait to see those.’
‘Steady on,’ said Dolly, still smiling, ‘you’re beginning to sound almost enthusiastic about it all.’
‘I think she’s found her festive mojo at last,’ laughed Rose, who was sweeping nearby.
‘And don’t forget we’re going to see the Winter Wonderland,’ Beamish reminded me. ‘I’ve got a match tomorrow afternoon, but after that I’m at your disposal.’
‘Lucky Hattie,’ said Rose, waggling her eyebrows.
‘And there’ll be another advent candle lit on Sunday,’ said Dolly, ignoring Rose. ‘And the carol concert Monday evening.’
‘Well, there you are then!’ I laughed. ‘You lot are positively smothering me in all this festive cheer, so it’s little wonder I’m finding my Christmas spirit, is it?’
Chapter 17
I slept from the moment my head made contact with the pillow that night until Dolly came in with a cup of tea the next morning.
‘Morning, Dolly,’ I yawned, snuggling down even deeper into the warm, soft bed. ‘What time is it? Have I overslept?’
‘Not really,’ she told me, kindly keeping her voice low so as not to pull me too far out of my delicious slumber. ‘But I’ll be leaving in a minute and I didn’t want you to wake to an empty house.’
‘Of course,’ I said, ‘it’s the auction and bake sale today, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ she confirmed, ‘and I’m getting a lift into town to help get things set up.’
‘You aren’t going to be on your feet baking all day, are you?’ I asked, finally opening my eyes properly.
As well as selling cakes, I knew that the town hall would be opened up to anyone who wanted to try their hand at a bit of festive baking and Christmas cookie decorating. I was surprised Dolly hadn’t added it to the list as an event for me to take part in.
‘No,’ she said. ‘Jemma from the Cherry Tree and her team are in charge of baking. I’m serving teas.’
Not baking then, but on her feet all day nonetheless.
‘I bet it’s going to be busy, isn’t it?’
‘Oh yes,’ she nodded. ‘It’s hugely popular. Practically the whole town turns out today.’
‘Please don’t overdo it, Dolly,’ I pleaded. ‘Yesterday was hard work and you really should be putting your feet up today.’
She laughed and headed back towards the stairs.
‘There’ll be plenty of time for me to do that in a few days,’ she reminded me. ‘I’ll see you later, won’t I?’
‘Of course,’ I said, sitting up and turning on the bedside light. ‘I’m very much looking forward to it. I wouldn’t dream of missing out on all the fun. I’ll even help serve teas with you if you like.’
‘That would be very much appreciated,’ she smiled, ‘and if there’s a space, you might even try your hand at transforming a cookie or two.’
The list wasn’t completely forgotten then.
‘And watch out for Beamish,’ she added, ‘he’s on mistletoe duty this morning before his match. Apparently, it’s been a bumper year!’
Dolly left a little while later and I indulged in a far lazier start to the day than usual while mulling over the best route around the square which could keep me furthest away from the greenery sale. Not that, given what he’d said, I was really expecting Beamish to attempt another kiss, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
I sang along with the radio as I made my breakfast, almost wishing it really could be Christmas every day, and then had a long bath. I had the feeling that this weekend was going to be the pinnacle of my stay in Wynbridge. Whether that was because there was so much going on, because I was feeling relieved that my parents hadn’t responded to my card and I wouldn’t have to tell Jonathan what they’d said about it, or because I’d finally rediscovered my love of Christmas, I couldn’t be sure, but I was feeling happier than I had in a very long time.
Happily humming away, I styled my hair into a messy bun, piled on plenty of insulating layers, added a swipe of rose-tinted lip gloss, (more a concession to the Wynbridge wind than vanity), and was good to go.
‘See you later, Tiddles,’ I called over my shoulder as I grabbed my cottage key and bag and opened the door.
‘I seriously hope that isn’t a new nickname for Dolly,’ said a voice I recognised.
‘Jonathan,’ I gasped. ‘Oh my god! What on earth are you doing here?’
I couldn’t believe my eyes. I stood, rooted to the spot and feeling rocked to my very core. I blinked, twice, and looked again. He was still there.
‘Freezing on the doorstep at the moment,’ he half smiled. ‘Are you going to let me in?’
‘Yes,’ I said, taking a step back. ‘Of course, yes. Crikey. Sorry. It’s just such a shock to see you. I can’t believe it.’
‘A good shock, I hope?’ He frowned.
I realised that I hadn’t leapt on him, thrown my arms around him or smothered him in passionate kisses, each, if not all of which, were most likely the reactions he had been expecting, but the shock of opening the door and finding him standing there had halted me in my tracks.
‘Of course, it’s a good one,’ I laughed, putting my key and bag back on the table and reaching out to him.
‘I was rather hoping that you’d throw yourself at me,’ he said, confirming my thoughts as he looked into my eyes and wrapped me in his arms, ‘but I can see now that you obviously haven’t got the energy.’
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that and didn’t try to fathom it out as I succumbed to a long and lingering kiss. I was deep in shock and my head was all over the place so I assumed that was why the kiss didn’t elicit the knee-weakening, butterfly-awakening feelings I usually experienced when he swept me into his arms.
‘You weren’t really just going out, were you?’ he throatily asked, sounding a little breathless and thankfully unaware of my somewhat passionless response to our reunion.
I wished I felt as seduced as he sounded, but then I supposed I’d come back to life in a minute.
‘Yes,’ I said, thinking of the market square and my promise to help with the teas. ‘I was heading into town.’
‘What, like that?’ Jonathan asked, letting me go and taking in my hair, face and clothes in one disparaging look up and down.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Sorry,’ he said, unbuttoning his jacket. ‘That probably didn’t come out right.’
There was no probably about it.
‘It’s just that you don’t really look like you, Hattie, that’s all.’
‘How do you mean?’ I asked, looking down at my multiple layers of wind-defying clothes.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘you’re usually so smart. You never leave the flat, not even to buy milk, unless you’ve done your hair and make-up.’
So, it wasn’t my well-padded figure he was referring to, but my face. I should have been offended, but having so recently decided that all the effort I used to put into getting done up to go out had been a waste of time, I knew he wasn’t aware of my change of heart and shrugged his comment off. Now I would rather save the contents of my make-up bag for special occasions, as opposed to trips to Tesco Metro, but of course Jonathan hadn’t been brought up to speed about that yet.
‘I’m wearing lip gloss,’ I pointed out.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m not criticising.’
His tone suggested he was.
‘What are you doing then?’ I remarked.
I suppose his surprise was only to be expected. The version of me standing in front of him, wasn’t the one he was familiar with at all and given his preoccupation with style, labels and how he wanted the world to see him, us really, I supposed it was a bit of a wonder to find me on my way out looking like I’d made zero effort at all.
‘Shall we start again?’ he suggested. ‘Unless you really are in a rush to get off somewhere?’
‘I was,’ I told
him, taking off my coat again. ‘But I’m not now.’
I was crushingly disappointed to have my plans scuppered and I felt incredibly guilty for feeling it. The man I was going to be spending the rest of my life with had just undertaken an extraordinarily long journey to pay me a surprise visit and I was smarting over missing out on serving some teas in the town hall.
‘I’m still amazed that you’re even here.’ I said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into my voice. ‘I thought you were staying in Abu Dhabi for at least another week.’
‘That was the original idea,’ he said, heading towards the stairs, ‘but there’s been a bit of a change of plan.’
‘Right,’ I said, ‘I see. Well it really is lovely to see you.’
I hoped that didn’t sound like an afterthought.
‘Well, that’s a relief,’ he smiled, ‘for a second when you answered the door, I thought you were going to close it again. Now, I’m just going to freshen up, so why don’t you make us some coffee, the good stuff I sent, and then I’ll tell you what’s going on?’
‘All right,’ I smiled back, watching him awkwardly negotiate the narrow stairs and thinking how he didn’t fit into the fabric of the place at all. Beamish on the other hand was double his width and yet moved freely within the confines of the cottage.
I had just finished filling the cafetière when I heard, rather than saw, Jonathan coming back down.
‘Jesus,’ he swore as his head made crunching contact with the beam at the bottom of the stairs. ‘God, I hate this place.’
I didn’t comment.
‘I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay here,’ he groaned, rubbing at the vivid red mark across his forehead. ‘You’re almost as tall as I am. How the hell have you coped? It’s so fucking cramped.’
I winced at his choice of word, remembering I had used it myself when I first arrived, before Beamish corrected me. However, I refused to feel offended by Jonathan’s mean-spirited comment because in the past I had bumped my head plenty of times in the same spot, so I knew exactly how much it hurt.
‘I’ve learned to duck,’ I told him, setting the coffee down at the table.
‘I take it Dolly isn’t here?’ he said as I set out two cups.