Kate was quiet. She’d never had such candid conversation from her mother. Was it possible there was more depth to her than Kate had given her credit for?
“Anyway,” said her mum. “Enough of this nonsense! I bought a fabulous Chanel purse at the airport with Gerry’s traveler’s checks.”
Maybe not.
“Mum, would you like to come back to England for Christmas?” Kate asked. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone for the holidays.”
Kate wasn’t sure exactly how she would work such a scheme and keep everyone happy, but equally, she couldn’t very well leave her mum stranded alone at Christmas.
“Alone?” trilled her mother. “Alone? I’m the life and soul of the complex, darling. I’ve had more offers of Christmas dinners than I know what to do with!”
“Have you heard from Gerry?” Kate asked.
“No,” said her mum. “But while I was burning his clothes on the beach, I met a charming gentleman called Alejandro. Owns a bistro on the hillside. How I’ve not met him before I do not know!”
Kate rolled her eyes as her mum extolled the virtues of Spanish men of a certain age.
“Anyway, my darling,” she said finally. “I have to go and get ready, as Alejandro is picking me up later so I can sample some of his delights.”
Kate wasn’t sure if Alejandro’s delights were on the bistro menu or a euphemism for something else. Her mum rang off, none the worse, it seemed, for her ordeal with the Barbadian police force or her unwitting embroilment in multimillion-pound yacht theft.
By now Kate was really hungry. No sooner had Kate ladled a large helping of slow-cooked stew into her bowl than her phone blipped. It was Richard. He had a business meeting with some clients in Great Blexley that would finish at about half nine and would Kate like to meet up?
Kate didn’t really want to turf out again. She’d already thawed her feet in front of the fire after she got back from Blexford Manor; she didn’t want to be refrozen anytime soon. And the hill was still closed. And her little car was pretty well snowed into its parking spot outside the house.
Her phone blipped again:
Don’t say no. I couldn’t stand it. I want to see you. Badly!
Rxxx
Kate pushed her fork into a dumpling. Dammit, she thought, but she knew the distraction would be good for her. If she stayed in, she’d spend the evening thinking about all the things she’d miss when she was back in London. Or worse, she’d spend the evening pining over Matt, and that would do her no good at all. Better to risk pneumonia than end up melancholic, she decided.
She messaged Richard and they arranged to meet in the Tipsy Goose. She took a taxi, which cost her a small fortune as it had to go the long way round—what with the hill being closed—past the manor and down the A-roads to finally end up at the pub. She consoled herself with the promise that she’d walk home later.
Richard had already had a few drinks. By all accounts his business meeting had gone well and he was in a celebratory mood. When he kissed Kate hello, it was with a hunger that took her by surprise. Their conversation was spirited; Richard’s adrenaline was high from the deal he’d struck with some Norwegian investors, and Kate found his positivity infectious.
He was good to be around. Ambitious. Intelligent. His self-confidence could be described as arrogance, and his cocksure attitude might, under different circumstances, have been unappealing. But not tonight. Tonight she basked in it; he was fired up and she was the center of all his attentions. She needed this.
Everyone in the pub knew Richard. Everyone wanted to be his friend, but he only had eyes for Kate. Me, thought Kate, he just wants me. Kate was spellbound, flattered; she was intoxicated by the attention he lavished on her.
His kisses numbed the ache in her heart and silenced the siren that repeatedly wailed Matt’s name through her brain. His hands found their way inside her jumper and wandered over her body in a way that was only just on the side of acceptable in public. Somewhere deep inside, a part of her that had been lying in wait stretched and woke up. And when Richard leaned into her neck and asked in a low deep whisper if he could come back to her place, Kate said yes.
They stumbled up the hill, laughing and slipping, pushing each other against garden walls and fences to steal hot kisses in the cold night. Chilled hands fumbled between layers of wool and cloth. Grasping and rubbing. Only the freezing temperature prevented them from dispensing with Kate’s house to have sex in the nearby field. Richard was wild with lust and Kate was only too happy to reciprocate.
As they started along the lane that led to the green, Kate’s inner self suddenly found its voice. Doubt began to fill her head and squeeze her stomach, but she pushed it away. Hard. She needed this. She needed to forget. Just let her forget for one night!
Kate hurried Richard across the green toward Potters Copse. The noise from the Duke’s Head spilled out into the night. They had a live band playing. People stood outside, smoking and drinking. Richard tugged on Kate’s hand.
“Hang on a minute, babe,” he said. “I need to take a piss.” He nodded toward the pub.
“We’re literally five minutes from my house,” said Kate.
“I can’t wait,” he said. “It’s all those pints. I’ll only be a second!”
Kate’s inner voice got louder. Didn’t he realize she had to do this before her sensible side took control again?
Richard disappeared into the pub and Kate followed behind. The splintering crash of drums and roar of sweaty-headed men hollering into microphones brought Kate’s mind into sharp focus. She was instantly sober.
She scanned the pub in time to see Matt standing at the bar. He watched Richard go into the toilets. Something flickered across his face, a vague recognition, and then he spotted Kate.
Kate turned and walked smartly out of the pub. She wasn’t going to fight with Matt and she certainly wasn’t going to speak to him if she could help it. Indignation burned through her. She banished her inner self with its sensible suggestions to the farthest recesses of her mind. She was going to have sex with Richard tonight and it would be bloody brilliant!
She didn’t recognize the people outside the pub. They must have come up for the band. Kate parked herself on one of the benches beneath a patio heater and waited.
There was a commotion inside the pub. Shouts that had nothing to do with the band. The music tapered off and died. Kate had a sense of foreboding. She could hear muffled voices trying to soothe the situation. Then Barry’s voice over the din:
“Take it outside, fellas!”
Kate stood up and went to the door in time to see Richard storm through it.
“What the fuck is your problem, mate!” he yelled over his shoulder.
“Are you gonna tell her, or am I?” Matt shouted behind him.
Kate’s stomach lurched. Richard was marching across the green, but Matt was on his heels. Kate followed. Richard was a big guy; she didn’t want him to get into a fight with Matt. Matt was persistent.
“What’s it to you?” Richard sneered.
“Tell her!” Matt shouted.
“Stay out of it, friend,” said Richard. “You don’t want to start with me!”
“I’m not your friend,” said Matt.
Matt caught up with Richard and grabbed his jacket, spun him round. Richard swung a punch at Matt, but Matt ducked down swiftly and then back up and jabbed Richard hard in the face. Richard lost his balance and toppled backward.
Kate rushed over and knelt by Richard. His nose was bleeding.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” she yelled at Matt.
“Tell her!” said Matt.
Richard sat up, wiping his bloodied face with his hand.
“If you give so much of a shit, why don’t you tell her?” Richard spluttered.
Matt looked from Kate to Richard and b
ack again. The anger seemed to drain out of him.
“He’s married, Kate,” said Matt quietly. “I overheard him talking to his wife in the toilets. Giving her some bullshit about having to stay in town to close a deal. I think it’s pretty clear you’re the deal, Kate.”
Matt turned and went back into the pub.
“Anything you need a hand with, Kate?” came a booming voice. It was Barry. He was standing by a picnic bench with his arms folded across his broad chest.
“I’m fine, thanks, Barry,” said Kate.
“If you need anything, just holler,” said Barry. “I’m good at putting the rubbish out. I’ve dispatched bigger things than that shower of shite!”
He looked pointedly at Richard as he said it. Big as he was, Richard was wise enough not to pick a fight with Barry.
“Thanks, Barry,” said Kate. “I’ve got this.”
“Okay, folks,” said Barry. “Let’s let the lady have some privacy.”
The small crowd that had come outside to watch the show filtered back into the pub after Barry, leaving Kate and Richard sitting in the snow.
Kate was dumbfounded. She had a sick feeling in her stomach. Richard dabbed at his nose. Kate’s jeans were wet through, her legs freezing where she knelt. Her head reeled.
“You’re married?” Kate asked.
Richard didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at her. She said it again.
“You’re married!”
He looked at her then. There was no remorse in his expression, only annoyance that he’d been found out, a defiance in his countenance that spoke volumes.
“Yes,” he said. “I’m married.”
“Aren’t you going to try to excuse yourself?” asked Kate. “Tell me your wife doesn’t understand you? Tell me you lead separate lives?”
“Would you believe me if I did?” he asked.
“No,” said Kate.
“Well, then,” said Richard, as though that should be an end to it.
“Was it all a lie?” she asked. “Was your son even in hospital?”
“That part was true,” he said.
“Your poor wife,” said Kate.
She felt sick, imagining his wife sitting at home with the children while her husband was out on business. Kate recalled his hands on her body and shuddered. She didn’t suppose she was his only conquest; she wondered how he managed to keep them all separate.
“Don’t you worry about my wife,” said Richard. “She has a nice life.”
“You make her sound like a free-range chicken!” Kate shouted.
Richard started to get up. Kate couldn’t believe him. Most of all she couldn’t understand how he was the one in the wrong and she was the one being made to feel awkward.
“Why go to all that trouble?” Kate asked. “All the seduction? The meals, the cozy drinks together. The texts! All that bullshit about being jealous of my other dates. Why?”
Richard brushed the snow off his jeans; under the streetlamp the wet denim showed darker than the rest. Kate stood and tried to get Richard to look her in the eye. She searched his face for an iota of remorse. There was none.
He pulled his jacket around him and looked down at her.
“The thrill of the chase, baby!” he said.
Kate laughed mirthlessly.
“Are you kidding me?” she said. “Who the hell do you think you are? A Wall Street trader from the eighties?”
He ran his hands through his hair and spat blood out onto the snow.
“I take it tonight’s off, then?” he said.
“You make me sick,” said Kate.
“Shame,” he said. “We would have been hot together.”
“Are you a sociopath?” Kate shouted. “Do you not feel any remorse at all?”
“Grow up, Kate,” said Richard. “You think this little chocolate-box town is the real world? I’m out day after day, closing deals, making the kind of money you could only dream of . . .”
“Don’t patronize me,” said Kate. “Your business prowess has nothing to do with you being a lying arsehole! And cheating on your wife does not make you a grown-up. You used me.”
“I didn’t use you,” said Richard. “You were a willing participant. You wanted it as much as I did.”
“Not anymore,” said Kate.
She turned and walked away. Richard didn’t follow. Kate was relieved. She didn’t want any more of a scene than they’d already created. If he did follow her, she was likely to punch him in the face as well. She felt dirty. Angry tears pricked at her eyes. “Idiot,” she said to herself.
She marched through the copse, untouched by its nighttime beauty. She didn’t see the little lights hanging in the trees. The secret Christmas wonderland was lost on her tonight. Creatures of the dark scurried out of reach of her stomping boots as she tore through the thicket.
It wasn’t snowing, but the sky was full. The white paths glittered in the light of the cold round moon. Kate wanted to scrub herself. She wanted to find Richard’s wife and tell her what kind of a man she was married to. She wanted to go back and find him and pummel him with her fists.
She was still livid as she turned into her street. As she marched toward her house she saw something move. Kate looked up. Laura was standing by her gate. Laura saw her and held up two family-sized bars of chocolate.
“Someone rang me and told me you might be in need,” said Laura as Kate reached her.
“Who?” Kate asked.
“Who do you think?” said Laura. She turned slightly to the side and pushed her hip out. A bottle of wine protruded out of her deep duffle coat pocket. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s crack this bad boy open and you can tell me all about Dick!”
Kate had never been more grateful to see her friend. And what a friend she was: two small children at home who would be up at five a.m., but instead of getting an early night she was here, on a mercy mission at eleven o’clock at night. Kate wondered how she would manage without Laura when she moved away.
Laura listened while Kate lamented her fated romance and didn’t say I told you so once. They curled up in the sitting room with just the light from the fire and the tree lights and talked and laughed, and ate chocolate until long after the witching hour.
Ben was at home with the children and Laura had a full night pass, and when they had exhausted all the unpleasant names they could think of to describe Richard, Laura settled into the spare room for a rare night of unbroken sleep.
Kate lay awake for a long time after. Her anger was exhausted, but the humiliation still stung. By morning everyone in the village would know. The thought of it made her cringe in the darkness. She was a fool. She wondered what lies Richard would conjure for his wife to explain his bloody nose.
She poked her arm from out under the duvet and grappled around her bedside table for her phone. Then, under the harsh glow of its light in the dark room, she systematically deleted every text and phone message from Richard, deleted his number from her phone, and blocked him from all possible social media avenues.
As the pale dawn light began to leak through the gap in the curtains and Kate had purged herself of feelings of revenge and resentment, telling herself that someone like Richard didn’t deserve even her tiniest consideration, she finally fell asleep.
At ten o’clock Laura came in and woke Kate with breakfast in bed: hot buttery toast, boiled eggs, and tea in mugs the size of vases. Laura was showered and dressed, and they shared breakfast before she dashed back to her waiting family.
The wine-tasting date began at four p.m. The vineyard was half a mile north of Blexford Manor. In the snow she would have to allow an hour to walk there to be on the safe side.
She still had a few things she wanted to stock up on for Christmas, so she decided to spend the day making lists of what she’d need. She would pick up some wine at the vine
yard, but she wouldn’t go overboard, as Mac and Evelyn had been over to France a while back and returned home with as much booze as they could legally transport in one car.
Most of the vegetables for Christmas dinner would come from the garden, but there were some bits she needed besides. Patrick wasn’t fully back on his feet yet, but two of his sons were managing the farm, and his wife and youngest son ran the farm shop.
Kate emailed a list of things she needed to the shop, and within ten minutes she had a reply telling her Andy would deliver it all to her door tomorrow. That took care of the extra veg, salad, sausages, bacon, and ham joint. She’d put her name down for a turkey weeks ago, and Andy would deliver that at the same time.
She checked the larder and noted down a few extras she could pick up at Evelyn’s shop. She was aware that she would be gone in just a few days, but she was confident that any store-cupboard leftovers could be dished out between Laura and her dad.
In the back of the store cupboard were four large biscuit tins. Each held a Christmas cake that Kate had made on stir-up Sunday. She’d been feeding them with brandy ever since. One was for her and Mac. Two were orders for the café, and the last was for Matt.
Kate paused after she’d pulled them out and laid them on the worktop. What would she do with them? She would have to get them to the café somehow, but she really didn’t want to see Matt. Even less so after last night’s excruciating embarrassment. Now he would think she was pathetic as well as jealous! She decided she would leave them with Evelyn when she went in to get her shopping.
Lists complete, Kate set off for Evelyn’s. The sky was a strange yellow-gray, bulbous with snow but keeping hold of it for now. The sun was thin and watery and without the wind of the last few days, it actually felt marginally warmer.
Kate took the long way round so she could drop some mince pies in at her dad’s en route. She bumped into one or two people along the way and felt a niggling paranoia that they looked at her strangely.
She was acutely aware that she’d been unwittingly cast into the role of mistress. She hoped that if they did know about last night, they also knew she hadn’t embarked on an affair with a married man on purpose. Perhaps she should wear a sign around her neck: I didn’t know he was married!
The Twelve Dates of Christmas Page 29
