He put his phone down and grimaced. ‘I’m so sorry. Bad dad. That was my eldest, Erin. I was meant to FaceTime her at nine and I completely forgot. She’s away at university and she’s always busy so—’
But I was already standing up, smiling at him. ‘I’ll go so you can call her back. I brought a bag of crafts with me to show you the type of things I make. I can probably manage a limited stock of Christmas items if you’re interested, but not huge quantities. We can definitely talk about next year, though.’
‘Thanks. I’ll take a look.’
I headed out the room and down the stairs. ‘There’s no obligation. If it’s not what you want, please say. I didn’t have time to print off a price list so I’ll email you one later.’
We reached the front door and I swept my eyes round the gallery again, settling on the lighthouse picture. ‘I really think these are going to fly out the door,’ I said, looking back at Jed.
He smiled. ‘Thank you. That means a lot coming from the award-winning most outstanding businessperson in Whitsborough Bay.’
‘I’ll see you later,’ I said, laughing as I stepped out onto the cobbles.
Reaching the door to The Chocolate Pot, I pictured that lone sheep and the lighthouse again. Like that sheep, I’d lost my way but I saw the lighthouse when I arrived in Whitsborough Bay and knew I’d found a safe place to call home. Come Saturday, I’d be first in the queue. I didn’t care how much it cost, that painting had to be mine.
32
I was up well before Hercules rattled his crate on 1st December. The first Saturday in December was always exceptionally busy, especially in the afternoon. It was the big Christmas tree lights switch-on in town so the café would be packed with shoppers getting warm and grabbing some food and drink before joining the crowds for the build-up outside the main shopping centre. The lights were switched on at 6.30 p.m. by a Z-list ‘celebrity’ with the team from Bay Radio playing music and running competitions for the preceding hour.
The Chocolate Pot stayed open for an extra half hour until 5.30 p.m. to maximise sales, and it was always quite fraught because, as well as serving the regular customers, we were getting prepared for the special Castle Street traders’ event. At the end of Castle Street, overlooking the sea, there was a small park – Castle Park – which was home to another Christmas tree. The Castle Street traders all sponsored it and, in return, the council permitted us to hold a special traders-only event. I supplied hot drinks and Carly supplied cupcakes.
On top of all that, it was Jed’s grand opening. I’d told Maria that, as soon as it looked like a queue was forming, I’d be hoofing it across the cobbles because I had my eye on one of the paintings. When I’d emailed Jed my price list, I’d toyed with asking him to reserve me the lighthouse canvas, but chickened out. It was stupid, really, but that image and caption were so personal, so raw, that I couldn’t bring myself to let him in. Yet. Not that I had very long to build myself up to it ahead of opening day.
In my email, I asked him if he’d taken on any staff because I could vouch for Anastasia. He replied saying his youngest daughter, Lucy, was going to work there at weekends and during the college holidays but he’d give Anastasia a call. She dropped by The Chocolate Pot on Thursday to thank me for the recommendation because Jed had offered her a job for the opening weekend, telling her he’d work out her hours after that depending on how successful it was.
Yorkshire’s Best was due to open at 10 a.m. By half nine, there was quite a crowd outside, no doubt drawn by the wonderful paintings in the window. He’d picked well to showcase his talent, with a variety of settings and animals across the five canvases on display.
‘Go on,’ Maria said, nodding towards the crowd. ‘You know you want to.’
‘I can’t go when we’re this busy.’ The downstairs was already full and we were on limited staff until ten. ‘I’m sure it’ll still be there later.’
But it wasn’t. When I managed to nip out shortly before eleven, another canvas hung where the sheep and lighthouse had been. A little shocked at feeling quite so teary about it, I reminded myself that I was glad that I’d seen it and I was glad that somebody else would be able to forever enjoy it. It obviously wasn’t meant to belong to me.
I don’t think I’d ever seen more than three or four people at a time in Galley’s Gallery but there had to be ten times that in Yorkshire’s Best. I felt really proud of Jed for following his dream and making it happen, despite the knock-backs. Very inspiring.
Jed looked up from the queue at the till, smiled and winked, which made me go all gooey inside. He pointed to the corner where there was a beautiful Christmas tree made of silver and white twigs. A selection of my needle felted decorations hung from the branches, alongside some driftwood stars and a mix of other items I had left over from previous years. Wicker baskets nestled round the base of the tree contained more of each decoration. I experienced the usual thrill as I overheard some customers talking about how gorgeous they were, and watched with delight as others made their way to the till with their purchases.
Passing by the till, I caught Jed’s eye and mouthed, ‘Congratulations’ then winked at him too. He grinned before focusing his attention back on his customer.
Watching him chatting and laughing, surrounded by his stunning paintings, I couldn’t see anything of the man I’d first encountered fourteen and a half years ago. I’d been wrong about him ripping me off, and it seemed I’d also been wrong about him being arrogant. All I saw was a passionate artist who I wanted to get to know better. Whether that would lead to anything other than friendship, I wasn’t sure. What I was sure of was that I was open to the possibility of it being more. And that was a massive change for me.
‘Did you manage to get that painting you wanted?’ Carly asked as we loaded trays of cupcakes onto the tables in Castle Park ready for the traders’ switch-on that evening.
‘No. I was too late.’
‘Aw, no. Maybe he could paint you something like it?’
I shook my head. ‘It wouldn’t be the same. Everything about that one spoke to me but it was my fault for not securing it when I saw it. Damn secrecy and privacy. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s not like he’d have asked me why I chose that one and demanded to know why I’d lost my way. Valuable lesson learned. If you want something, go for it.’
‘Very valuable lesson. And are you going to learn from it?’
‘I just have.’
Carly laughed. ‘I mean, are you going to action it? I’ve seen you glancing down Castle Street every couple of minutes.’
I felt my cheeks burn and was glad they were already red from the cold night air. ‘No idea what you mean.’
‘Yes you do. You have a big fat crush on the delectable Jed Ferguson. You’re scared of it, which I completely understand after what you’ve been through, but I think he’s the one you’ve been looking for.’
‘I haven’t been looking for anyone.’
‘Because you weren’t ready until now. This year has been phenomenal for you. The business has reached new heights and you’ve explored new ground personally. You’ve opened up, you’ve let people in and it’s all been rewarding. I think you should let him in. And your foster parents.’ She nudged me gently. ‘And I need to stop telling you what to do, don’t I?’
‘No. Don’t ever stop. You’re like the voice of my conscience, pushing me into the things I already know I need to do, but am too scared to.’
‘Be brave,’ she said. ‘A few minutes of courage might change your life.’
I hugged her. ‘Thank you for everything this year. You’ve been nothing short of amazing.’
‘Have you seen what Tara made?’ Lana asked, approaching Carly after we’d pulled apart. Two needle felted star decorations dangled from her gloved hand. ‘We’ve all got a pair to represent the two star awards we won.’
‘They’re gorgeous.’ Carly raised an eyebrow at me.
‘Did you know Tara makes all the decorations in The
Chocolate Pot?’ Lana asked.
Someone shouted her name so Lana ran off to join her friends and Carly turned to me. ‘You’ve finally told them, then?’
I nodded. ‘Thanks to you. You helped me find the courage.’
She clapped her hands together excitedly. ‘I’m so thrilled for you. Jed next.’
As 6.30 p.m. approached, there was still no sign of him. I’d emailed him about the traders’ event yesterday, realising he might not be aware of it, and he’d replied to say he’d definitely attend. So where was he?
The chatter ceased and the traders turned towards Castle Street, waiting and listening. I loved the moment when cheers and applause could be heard from the top of town as that meant the switch had been flicked, the Christmas tree had been lit, and the rays of light were reaching across town.
Focusing my eyes towards the far end of Castle Street, I smiled as the zigzag of white lights strung between the tops of the buildings lit up, a small section at a time. A figure stepped into the middle of the cobbles and my heart raced. Jed. He glanced up at the lights then ran along Castle Street towards the park, the lights illuminating behind him as he ran, as though they were chasing after him.
He crossed the road as the arch at the end of the street lit up with the words ‘Welcome to Castle Street’. I missed the stars on the sign lighting up because I was focusing on Jed, running straight towards me.
‘I nearly missed it,’ he panted.
‘But you’re here now. Look at the tree.’
The white star at the top of the tree lit up, followed by all the white lights which flowed up and down the branches, then the red ones, then the green ones. The traders cheered then broke into a chorus of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’. With Jed standing by my side, smiling at me as he sang, I wondered if it really could be a merry Christmas for me for the first time since fleeing to Whitsborough Bay.
33
The tradition after the lights switch-on was for the traders to go on a pub crawl. We always started in The Old Theatre at the top of town then made our way down the precinct visiting various pubs and bars. A good night was guaranteed as everyone was in high festive spirits.
With Jed in the group, it turned out to be the best pub crawl ever. After the initial hostility towards him when they’d thought he was opening a café, the traders were keen to welcome him to Castle Street. Several of them had popped into Yorkshire’s Best and were quite rightly impressed. I could imagine them seeing potential pound-signs for their own businesses with the draw of a successful artist on the street. I’d Googled Jed and suspected many of the other traders had too. It seemed he was quite the celebrity down under and his work had earned him many accolades.
I loved how humble Jed was about his success and how genuinely interested he appeared to be in the other businesses on Castle Street and any plans the traders had for the future. Everyone seemed to want to talk to him and I was thrilled for him that they were so welcoming. The only downside of his popularity was that I couldn’t get him to myself, even for a couple of minutes. Every so often, he caught my eye and gave me a gentle smile which set my heart racing and, at one point, he sat beside me on a padded bench, his leg pressed against mine. I held my breath as I relaxed against him and found myself wishing it was just the two of us.
By the fourth pub, the group had dwindled in size and we were down to some of my favourite traders – Carly, Sarah from Seaside Blooms, Jemma from Bear With Me, Ginny from The Wedding Emporium next door, plus father and daughter team Marcus and Lily from Bay Books. My hopes that a smaller group could finally mean an opportunity to commandeer Jed were dashed by Marcus who apparently had friends in Australia and had visited a few times so they got chatting about places they’d both visited.
Pub five was The Lobster Pot, opposite the harbour on South Bay. A busy few weekends, several late nights crafting and too many glasses of wine had taken their toll and I could barely keep my eyes open. There was talk about moving on to The Smuggler’s Cavern for karaoke but my bed was calling.
‘I’m flagging,’ I announced when I finished my glass of wine. Standing up, I pulled on my coat. ‘Sorry, guys, but I’m going to have to call it a night. Enjoy karaoke.’
There were protests but I resisted.
‘I’ll walk you.’ Jed quickly gulped down the last of his pint. ‘If that’s okay with you. I was thinking of calling it a night myself. Been a big day.’
It was more than okay with me. Some alone-time with Jed, finally! Once again, I felt that gooey feeling inside and my heart started to race but I didn’t want to look too keen. ‘You’re not up for a spot of karaoke with the others?’
‘Nah. I can’t hold a note. I’d look like a right drongo in front of my new mates.’
I laughed at the Aussie phrase. ‘We can’t have that then.
Carly gave me a hug goodnight and whispered, ‘Be brave,’ in my ear.
I’d try to be.
An icy blast of air hit us the moment we stepped out of The Lobster Pot. I tightened my scarf and pulled on my gloves. As we set off along the seafront, I stopped and turned to look back at the lighthouse. Spotlights at the base illuminated the tower and I watched for a moment as the searchlight swept from side to side across the harbour.
‘Have you forgotten something?’ Jed asked.
‘Sorry. Habit.’ I turned back to him and indicated we should set off walking again. ‘I have a thing for lighthouses, particularly red-and-white striped ones. My mum loved painting but she only ever painted lighthouses and always at night with a beam of light shining.’
‘Why only lighthouses?’
‘She used to say Dad was her lighthouse, bringing her hope and light in the darkness of her depression. I’ve often wished I had one of her paintings but she destroyed them all before she died. I think it was because, without Dad, the light went out for good.’ I wondered whether to mention his painting and how much I’d wanted it, but it didn’t seem fair. It was my fault I hadn’t spoken up and I didn’t want him to feel guilty about something that he couldn’t have known.
‘That’s really sad,’ Jed said. ‘I’m so sorry. Is that why you settled in Whitsborough Bay? Because of the lighthouse?’
‘No. Fate made that decision but, as soon as I saw the lighthouse, I knew fate had made the right choice.’
‘Fate made it? How?’
‘I, erm… I needed to get out of London – long and complicated story – and start completely afresh. I sat in a petrol station, opened a map, closed my eyes, and let the pen make the choice.’
‘Strewth! You could have ended up in a right dump.’
‘I know. Although when I saw the upstairs of the café, “dump” certainly sprang to mind.’ I gave him a gentle nudge in the ribs so he knew I was joking.
‘I cringe every time I think of showing you round. I’d forgotten how bad it was up there. Even looking at the first floor through your eyes was a shocker. And I’m embarrassed about my behaviour too, trying to convince you the business was viable when it wasn’t.’
‘You were maybe a smidge pushy but that could have been my fault.’
‘It definitely wasn’t your fault. I’m nothing like that usually but all I could hear was Ingrid’s voice in my head nagging me. She said I had to charm, lie, beg or do whatever it took to make the deal. I was so desperate to get out that I cracked under the pressure. I’m so sorry. No wonder you despised me.’
‘Looking me up and down was never going to be a good starting point.’
Jed groaned. ‘Did I really do that? No! I’m so sorry.’
‘That’s okay. It was a long time ago.’
‘I know but it’s not okay. I promise I wasn’t being sleazy and checking you out. At the time, I was happily married, or at least I thought I was. It was the artist in me. The minute you stepped into the café, I had an overwhelming urge to draw you.’
I stopped and looked him in the eye, frowning. ‘Why? Why would you want to draw me?’
He smiled gently.
‘I hadn’t thought about drawing anyone for years until that moment but there was something about you. Something completely captivating. You radiated strength and confidence yet there was this cloak of sadness and fear swathed round you. I just wanted to drink you in and capture those emotions on paper or canvas. I hope that doesn’t sound creepy.’
I swallowed on the lump in my throat. Not only had he really seen me back then, he still remembered what he saw. ‘Did you draw me?’
‘I started a sketch as soon as I got home but Ingrid caught me and…’
‘And what?’ I asked when he tailed off.
He sighed. ‘She accused me of eyeing up other women and ripped it up. Anyway, I’m sorry about my behaviour when we first met and also my behaviour when I saw you at the start of this year. All I wanted to do was say hello and see whether that sadness had gone but I went about it completely the wrong way. I don’t know who that guy was but it wasn’t me.’
‘An imposter,’ I said, smiling at him. A sudden blast of icy air made me shiver. ‘Come on, let’s get moving again.’
As we set off walking along the seafront once more, Carly’s words rang in my ears. Be brave.
I took a deep breath. ‘I hope the imposter doesn’t return because I like the real Jed Ferguson. A lot.’
Jed didn’t say anything but, out the corner of my eye, I could see him smiling.
‘How are you finding it back in the Bay?’ I asked.
‘Good although a bit disorientating at times. I’ve caught up with some old friends and it’s like I only saw them the week before and I’ve caught up with others who’ve been like strangers. It’s also strange living back home with my parents – something I never expected to do. They’re great, though and it’s good for me and the girls to have some quality time with them after living on the other side of the world for so long.’
Starry Skies Over the Chocolate Pot Cafe Page 21
