The Next Forever

by Alix Kelso

“Something came up. Look, it’s fine. He’s just a man I happened to say hello to a few times in the park. He’s a customer who came in to order a wedding cake. That’s all.”

  Irene arched an eyebrow. “That’s all, is it? Well, that evening I saw the two of you sitting together on that bench, you looked pretty cosy.”

  “Looks can be deceiving.”

  Irene drummed her fingers on the counter for a few seconds, and Chrissie could feel her mother’s eyes boring into her.

  “You give up much too easily when it comes to matters of the heart,” Irene finally said.

  Chrissie stared. “That’s not true.”

  “Oh, I’m afraid it is. After what Steven did, it’s little wonder you’re nervous about men. But that was twenty-five years ago, Chrissie. It’s long past time to move on.”

  Chrissie barked out a laugh. “I’m not the one who cancelled dinner. His choice, not mine.”

  “So if his choice was to ask you out again, what would you say?”

  Chrissie narrowed her gaze. “You want me to agree to go out with someone who already ditched me once?”

  “Did he have a good reason to cancel?”

  “Mother—”

  But Irene waved a hand. “I didn’t come here to argue, so I’ll say this and then I’ll be on my way. It’s time you had a man in your life, Christine. You’ve raised your daughter, you’ve worked hard for her and for yourself, and you’ve set up this lovely business. Now, it’s time for you.”

  “Very inspirational.”

  “Don’t be flippant, Chrissie, it doesn’t suit you.”

  Chrissie gave an apologetic smile. “I know you’re just looking out for me.”

  “So, if this man calls and asks you out again, you’ll say yes?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Irene nodded. “Good enough.” She checked her watch. “Right, I’d better go, or they’ll start the book club AGM without me and we’ll all be signed up to a year of Tolstoy and Henry James and I’ll be forced to tender my resignation.”

  “And what a loss that would be to the other ladies.”

  Irene gave a sarcastic smile and left, and Chrissie thought about what she’d said. If Keith McGraw called and asked her out again, what should she say? No woman wanted to be at the beck-and-call of a man. She had her pride and self-respect to think of. Still, Keith had seemed upset about the matter, saying again and again how his young friend needed his help with the wedding arrangements. It was sort of sweet that the man was helping, and surely it said something about him?

  Chrissie sighed. All of this was entirely academic. Keith had cancelled their dinner and that was that. It would be up to him to get in touch if he wanted to arrange something else.

  And if he did get touch and ask her out again, what would she say?

  Chrissie scowled and scooped her finger into the icing on the wedding cake. Tasting it, she curled her lip in displeasure.

  It was much too sweet. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed before.

  22

  That Thursday night, The Crooked Thistle was packed, and the thirst of the gathered punters appeared to be unquenchable. That was fine with Keith. He’d always liked the sound of a cash till ringing.

  Sophie and Janice were working behind the bar and Keith was impressed at how much help Janice had been. Since their talk two days before, a sort of calm had descended on her, and it was a relief to finally see her without tears in her eyes.

  As Keith watched Janice serve a customer and make easy small talk, he pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. He’d called Chrissie, several times in fact, but had only got her answer machine, and she hadn’t yet returned his calls.

  Was she ignoring him? It stood to reason that she would be. He’d asked her out to dinner and then cancelled fewer than three hours before they were supposed to meet. That sent a terrible message. While he’d been glad to help Big Kev with the ceremony rehearsal – and the young man had certainly needed some help – Keith hated that it had been at the expense of his plans with Chrissie. And he especially hated the idea that she’d probably got the wrong end of the stick as a result.

  Keith strained to hear a customer order, and while he prepared the drinks, he thought about Chrissie. They couldn’t have spent much more than three hours together since they’d met, and yet something about her made Keith want to turn those three hours into three more, and then three more after that. He knew almost nothing about her, but wanted to know everything. After so long spent convincing himself that his days for romance were now behind him, all he wanted was to steal one more romantic moment with Chrissie.

  Whenever he thought of that kiss they’d shared beneath the cherry blossoms in the park, he felt a little jolt of excitement that told him there was still hot blood running in his veins. And whenever he thought about that plumbing catastrophe at her house, when he’d rushed upstairs to find Chrissie dripping wet with a look of bewildered astonishment on her face, his heart actually did a little flip inside his chest. She’d looked beautiful, standing there with her hair hanging wet and her skin glistening damp with water. Her dress had been soaked, too. Remembering how the soft fabric had clung to her waist and her hips caused him to forget what he was now doing and add cola to the vodkas he was preparing instead of tonic.

  Scowling, he poured away the wasted drinks and began again. But it wasn’t just that Chrissie was an attractive woman, although he wondered if she knew how attractive she was. What really got to him were the ghosts that hid behind the violet sparks in her eyes. He hadn’t recognised those ghosts for what they were at first, but he recognised them now. And he wanted to know what had caused them so that he could do whatever had to be done to exorcise them.

  With a jolt, Keith set down the empty tonic bottles. He hadn’t understood until now that this was what he actually wanted to do, and the realisation hit him with some force. He didn’t just want romance with this woman. He wanted to know who she was and who she’d been and who she wanted to become.

  “Um, are those drinks ready yet, mate?”

  Keith turned and saw the customer waiting with his cash ready, peering at the drinks still sitting beneath the lager tap and the vodka optics. Pushing away the mad thoughts that had seized him, Keith served the order and gave the customer his change and busied himself dealing with a spillage on the floor.

  “Are you okay, Keith?” Janice asked as she poured a pint and shuffled her feet to let him push the mop around the wet patch on the floor.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Still not heard from your new lady?”

  Keith scowled. “I suppose women don’t like it when men ditch them so they can run off to help their pals.”

  Janice waved a hand. “That’s not really what happened. And if Chrissie is as decent as you say she is, I’m sure she understands, so—”

  Before Janice could finish, Keith’s phone rang in his pocket. Grabbing it, he peered at the screen hopefully. He didn’t recognise the number, but that didn’t mean Chrissie wasn’t calling from another phone.

  Keith answered the call, hope twisting in his stomach. But when the caller identified himself, Keith’s smile disappeared. A few moments later, however, those sweet tendrils of hopeful excitement were once more swirling, and Keith found himself nodding into the phone and contemplating an idea that was ridiculous and crazy and almost certainly doomed to failure.

  But one he wanted to try, just the same.

  Keith ended the call. “Sophie, Janice, can you two hold the fort for ten minutes?” Then he dashed for the back door before either of them even had time to answer.

  Keith stood at Chrissie’s front door and drew in a breath.

  What he was about to do was madness. His brain told him to turn around and go back to his pub and forget this whole crazy thing. Chrissie would never agree to it anyway – in fact, it was so ridiculous, she’d probably laugh in his face – and he ought to save himself the embarrassment and leave while he still could
.

  But he didn’t leave. Instead, he reached out and rang the doorbell, laughing when he realised his eyes were closed tight as he did it.

  When the door opened, it was Alison who stood there, holding a squirming Poppy in her arms.

  “Keith, hello. I didn’t know Mum was expecting you.”

  “She’s not.”

  Poppy grinned and reached out towards Keith, clutching a plastic toy in her pudgy little hands. Keith smiled at the child and winked and the little girl screeched with laughter.

  “Mum! Keith’s here for you,” Alison shouted down the hallway before turning back. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but she’s pretty annoyed that you asked her out to dinner and then ditched her.”

  Keith put his hands up. “I know, and I’m sorry. Which is what I’m here to tell your mother.”

  Alison seemed to consider this. “Hmm. Well, good luck.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “You seem like a nice guy. Don’t let her steamroll over you.”

  “Alison, who’s at the… oh, Keith.”

  When Alison stepped away, Keith saw Chrissie walking down the hallway. She wore loose trousers and a floaty top and her hair was scooped back in a headband, and seeing her caused Keith’s pulse to race.

  “Am I interrupting anything?” he asked.

  As Alison walked off towards the stairs, Chrissie moved to the door. “I was doing my accounts.”

  “Oh, sorry, I, um…” Keith took a step back, his courage failing at her cool tone. “This is a bad time.”

  But Chrissie shook her head. “It’s fine, I was about to put the kettle on.”

  She opened the door wider and beckoned him inside. He followed her to the kitchen and stood rocking on his heels while she filled the kettle and dropped teabags into mugs. A stack of paperwork sat on the kitchen table next to a laptop with spreadsheets open on the screen. Beside this work there was a pile of well-thumbed baking books, one or two of them open to pages that showed elaborately decorated cakes and desserts.

  “Chrissie, I’m here to apologise again for Tuesday night,” he said.

  Her back was turned as she poured hot water into the mugs and stirred the teabags. “Something came up, I understand.”

  “I really wanted to go out with you, Chrissie.”

  She passed him his mug of tea and leaned back against the counter to sip her own. When she didn’t gesture to the kitchen chairs and stayed standing, he shuffled his feet, feeling awkward.

  “It’s fine, Keith,” she said, blowing on her tea before taking a sip. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

  Frowning, Keith set the mug on the counter. “Chrissie, listen, I feel bad about Tuesday night. I feel bad about the two nights before that, too. I’d like to spend time with you. I’d like to get to know you. Do you think you might want that too?”

  His question seemed to startle her, because she stared for a moment, eyes wide. “You seem like a nice man, Keith. But I’ve been thinking about things and I don’t have space in my life for complications such as dates that never happen. And I don’t have space in my life for men who ditch me at the last minute, either.”

  Keith gulped. She was direct, and then some. “I hate knowing I messed you around, Chrissie. It wasn’t what I wanted. Big Kev needed my help.”

  Chrissie’s face softened, if only a little. “Keith, you told me this on Tuesday. You’re doing a nice thing for that young man. But I’m too old to play second fiddle in someone’s life. So, I think that—”

  “No, wait!” Keith said, holding up his hands. “Give me a chance to make up for it. There’ll be no cancellations, no changes to the plans, I promise.”

  “Look, why don’t we wait and arrange dinner some other time, when we’re both not so busy. You’ve got these wedding plans you’re involved in, I’ve got my cake competition and my family and—”

  “I don’t want to wait.”

  Chrissie paused and watched him, her gaze searching his face. Keith took a deep breath. It was now or never. And never wasn’t something he was prepared to contemplate.

  “Come away with me, Chrissie.”

  She continued staring and then her surprise gave way to a frown. “What?”

  “I want you to come away with me, away from Fairhill, just for one night. Remember that VIP whisky trip I told you about, the one I was supposed to go on last weekend? I got a call from the hospitality manager at the distillery. They had a cancellation for tomorrow night and they wondered if I’d like to take the spot. I said yes. Will you come with me?”

  But she only continued staring. “Are you mad?”

  “Probably.”

  “Look, maybe you’ve got the wrong impression about me, Keith, but—”

  “We’d have separate bedrooms. That goes without saying.”

  Her hard stare gave way to something a little softer and Keith grabbed at the chance to explain.

  “We’d drive up tomorrow, see the distillery and go on the tour. Get out and enjoy a bit of the countryside. Have a meal at the hotel in the evening. Then we’d go to our separate bedrooms. And the next day we’d enjoy breakfast together, maybe do a little more touring around, and then come back home. The whole thing is my treat and no strings attached. So, what do you think?”

  She didn’t immediately reject it out of hand, which Keith thought was a good sign. Still, she wasn’t exactly jumping up and down with excitement.

  “Look,” Keith said, “those evenings we sat together on the bench in Couper Park were lovely, Chrissie. I liked sitting with you and talking with you. But every time we try to organise something, it’s a disaster. So, when I got that call from the distillery, I thought it might be perfect. We could get away from everything, just for one night. I want to get to know you. If the only way I can do that is to drive us up into the Highlands for a few hours of peace and quiet, then so be it.”

  She laughed then and Keith thought that maybe he might be close to convincing her that his mad idea wasn’t in fact so mad after all.

  “Being whisked away up north sounds very nice, Keith,” Chrissie said. “But I’ve got a business to run and customers to keep happy. So do you, for that matter. I can’t just take off on a whim—”

  “Yes you can, Mum.”

  Keith turned and saw that Alison had appeared behind him in the kitchen, Poppy still cradled on her hip.

  “Alison,” Chrissie hissed, “if I say I can’t take off on a whim, then I mean it.”

  “But you can take off,” Alison said. “You just told me tonight that you were ahead with your cake orders.”

  “Yes, and customers will be coming to the shop tomorrow and on Saturday to collect those cake orders,” Chrissie said, her tone sharp. “How are they supposed to do that if I’m not there?”

  “I can look after the shop while you’re gone,” Alison said. “It’s not like I have to do the baking. All I’ll be doing is handing over cakes and checking payments. If any orders come in, you can call customers back when you come home to make sure everything’s okay.”

  Chrissie’s eyebrows scrunched together. “You have your own job to go to, Alison.”

  “I’m off tomorrow and Saturday. Granny can look after Poppy while Gregor’s working if she becomes too much of a handful at the shop.”

  “Look, it’s too late notice and—”

  “Mum, please,” Alison said. “You need a break away. You know it and I know it. It’s been tough these last few weeks, on all of us. Maybe a night away will do you some good. Maybe it’ll do us some good, too.”

  Keith saw Chrissie’s resolve waver then. Something in what Alison had just said had clearly had an effect. He saw her consider her daughter for a second or two, thinking this over.

  “Maybe it would be nice if you and Gregor had some time together without me here,” Chrissie finally said, before turning to Keith. “And maybe it would be nice for me to have a night away, too.”

  “So, you’ll come?” Keith asked.

  He watched as her interna
l debate continued. Finally, a smile came to her lips. “I don’t know, Keith. For all I know, you could be a serial killer who invites women on overnight trips before murdering them and stashing their bodies in your pub cellar.”

  “You can check the cellar if you want, but the only strange thing you’ll find down there are the two crates of pomegranate liqueur I ordered by accident a few years ago and never managed to flog to any unsuspecting punters.”

  A surprised laugh escaped her, and Keith knew he had her then. “Will you come with me, Chrissie?”

  She studied him a moment longer. At last, a smile crept to her lips and she rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’ll come. This is a completely batty idea, but I’ll come.”

  “It’s not batty, Mum,” Alison said as Poppy squirmed in her arms. “It’s romantic.”

  “Are you sure you can cope in my shop by yourself?” Chrissie asked, turning to Alison.

  “Absolutely,” Alison said.

  “Gregor isn’t allowed anywhere near the place, do you understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “I mean it, Alison. He’s not allowed to fix anything in this house or in my shop. He’s not allowed to help customers carry cakes to their cars. In fact, he’s not allowed into the shop for any reason.”

  “I understand,” Alison said as Poppy began squirming once more. “Listen, I need to get Madam here to settle in bed. Third time lucky. Goodnight, Keith.”

  Once Alison had gone upstairs, Keith watched Chrissie chewing on a nail. “I must be mad, leaving them here unsupervised.”

  “They’ll be fine,” Keith said, but he saw the worry on her face. “Listen, if this is too much at too short notice, that’s okay. Family comes first, and if you don’t want to leave them here alone, then—”

  “No, I might not want to leave them here alone, but I should,” she said. “Alison’s right. They need some time on their own. And you’re right too, Keith – maybe a night away from everything will be lovely for me. For us.”

  He liked how that sounded – us. The grin was spreading on his face before he could stop it.