The blood rushed to her head in a red mist. ‘No! Nothing you say will make any difference.’
Around them, the chatter stopped, and the pub went quiet. Everyone turned to stare. Ice stole up Evie’s spine, and Tim must have clocked her horror, because his expression changed to one of triumph: now he had a captive audience.
‘Come back to me. I’ll marry you. We were good together.’
Not here, not now. Her heart hammered angrily. Well, fine. If that was how the snake wanted to play it …
‘Seriously? After I found you in bed with someone else?’
Gasps of surprise echoed around the room and she heard a ripple of whispers. Evie steeled herself, determined not to let him walk all over her. He’d done enough of that when they’d been together. Back then, his subtle but perpetual criticisms had ground down her self-esteem, but now she’d put some distance between them she saw how unjustified most of them had been.
Tim’s eyes narrowed. There wasn’t a trace of remorse in his expression, only irritation that she’d brought up the subject of his betrayal. ‘I made a mistake. Just one.’ He placed his hands on her shoulders, and instantly she stiffened. ‘Don’t be heartless. Let’s move on. Put this behind us.’
She batted his hands away. ‘The fact that you’re talking in clichés suggests that you don’t mean any of this. You never had feelings for me, Tim. I doubt if you’ll ever have feelings for anyone other than yourself.’
‘Not true. I loved you, Evelyn. I still do.’
‘Really?’ she said. ‘And yet I was never slim enough or elegant enough. I never said the right things or laughed at the jokes your misogynistic friends found so funny.’
His eyes widened with surprise, and his mouth worked but no sound came out. The king of smooth talking seemed to be stunned into silence. And she knew why: she’d never stood up to him like this in the past. Her shoulders went back. Well, she was a different person now. Leaving him to move here was the best decision she’d ever made. His betrayal had broken her heart, but it had also been a blessing: the catalyst she’d needed to leave him and start a new life.
‘You didn’t love me before, and now I could never love you again.’ He opened his mouth to speak but she held up her hand. ‘And I won’t change my mind, so please leave, Tim. Now.’
The landlord, Gary, stepped forward. ‘You need me to show this gentleman the door, Evie?’
She threw him a quick smile, touched at this gesture of support, before she turned back to Tim. ‘Thanks. But I’m sure he can find it himself.’
Tim hesitated, glanced around the pub at all the angry faces watching him, then turned and left.
Evie sank back into her seat and Suzie wrapped an arm around her in a reassuring hug.
‘You okay?’ asked Natasha.
‘I’m fine,’ said Evie.
Though she wasn’t sure how she’d ever live this down. Talk about airing your dirty laundry in public! Now everyone in Willowbrook would know her secret, and that was mortifying.
Jake was working in his study when his phone rang.
Louisa.
He sighed. Not again.
‘Have you thought any more about my invitation?’ asked his sister. When he didn’t immediately respond, she prompted: ‘For Christmas?’
‘Louisa, I gave you my answer already,’ he said impatiently, and tapped his pen against the desk. Evie Miller was fitting curtains in one of the bedrooms and the sound of her humming and singing to herself travelled down the stairs.
‘But I asked you to reconsider, remember? Please, Jake. I can’t bear to think of you spending Christmas alone.’
At the other end of the line he could hear his nephews shouting and laughing. ‘Not even if it’s my choice?’
‘Not even.’ She sighed. ‘We’re not that bad, are we? I know the boys can be a bit boisterous, but you were once—’
‘Louisa,’ he cut in gently, ‘it’s not about you or the boys. Remember last year? I don’t want to spoil things again.’
‘I’m sure that won’t happen. And even if you—’
‘No!’ He sighed and stared out of the window at the frosted valley and the church spire that protruded from the village. He’d been through this several times already, not just with Louisa but with his younger sister, Scarlett, too. He was getting tired of having to explain himself.
Aware that he wasn’t alone in the house, he kept his voice down. ‘I don’t want to do Christmas at all, okay? I’m not in the mood for festivities.’
‘We can keep it low key. Scarlett agrees.’
‘That’s not fair on the kids.’
‘It won’t be the same without you, Jake. Please.’
His head began to pound. What would it take for his sister to drop this? ‘It’s better for everyone that I stay away.’
‘You can’t be on your own. What will you do?’
Ignore Christmas. Pretend it wasn’t happening. ‘It really doesn’t matter. I’ll be fine.’
She took a deep breath. ‘Listen, Jake, Scarlett and I both think—’
‘Sorry, sis,’ he interrupted. ‘Got another call coming in. Got to go.’
‘I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that to—’
He cut her off. The light went out on his phone and he stared at it, not liking himself or what he’d just done.
You’re a coward, Hartwood. A better man would grit his teeth and go through the motions for his sisters’ sake.
But he wasn’t that man. He closed his eyes briefly.
Maria had loved Christmas. She came from a big Italian family and he’d often caught her looking longingly at his nephews and niece. He and Maria had hoped one day to have children of their own. At least four, she used to tease him. And she would have made a great mother. Patient, loving, and talented in so many ways. He used to picture her at the piano, a child on her knee, another beside her.
Jake hung his head. He gripped the desk as if it was a life-saving device. What was he doing, allowing his thoughts to unravel like this?
The noise upstairs grew louder and he scowled at the ceiling. What was she singing? He recognised the song from some musical or other.
His phone began to ring again. He sighed, thinking it was Louisa – then realised it was a potential supplier he’d been trying to get hold of for several days.
‘François, hello,’ he said. ‘Did you receive my email?’
The winemaker launched into rapid French and Jake covered one ear to block out Evie’s singing. ‘Can you repeat that?’
A few minutes later, he hung up. Neither of them had been able to make himself understood. He rubbed his forehead, wishing the throbbing in his head would quieten down. The squeak of a stepladder being moved made him look up, and the high-pitched singing started up again. Exasperated, Jake pushed his chair back and stamped up the stairs.
Perched at the top of her stepladder, Evie paused to admire the breath-taking view of the diamond-encrusted hills and glittering rooftops of the village. She had been tempted to curl up in her cottage and hide for a month until everyone in Willowbrook had forgotten about the fiasco with Tim in the pub. Unfortunately, hiding was not a luxury she could afford right now. She had work to do, and top of the list was delivering another set of curtains to the Old Hall.
She turned back and got on with her task, humming as she worked (she’d been listening to The Phantom of the Opera on her way over and now she couldn’t get the tune out of her head). Anyway, on the bright side, she had exciting plans for how to improve her business, and this morning she’d been out in the village asking local shopkeepers to display posters advertising her new classes. She had also updated her page on the craft website by uploading pictures of quilts she’d made, and tomorrow she would make a new window display with some eye-catching gift ideas. Hopefully, her efforts would kick-start some interest in her shop soon.
She finished hanging the curtains, then climbed down the stepladder and stepped back to admire her work. They hung beautifully
. Made from a slate-blue satin with a scrolling pattern of silver embroidery, they gave the room a luxurious finish. She began to dress them, carefully gathering the fabric into neat, even pleats. What was it Jake had told her? Believe in yourself. She smiled and lifted her chin. Yes. The confrontation with Tim had been humiliating, but she wasn’t going to let him hold her back any more. She was determined to put her all into making the shop succeed. Energised by the thought, she started to sing again. She was just getting to the Phantom’s part when someone cleared their throat. She stopped and spun round.
Jake was standing in the doorway. And judging by the look on his face, he wasn’t there to join in with the duet. ‘Can you please keep the noise down? I’m trying to work.’ His features were all dark shadows and hard angles.
‘Oops – sorry! It’s such a big house, I didn’t think you’d be able to hear.’ Hot colour rose in her cheeks.
‘My office is directly below this room, and the noise is very distracting. Especially when I’m on the phone to a client in France.’
‘Of course. Sorry.’ She had to stop herself curtsying. What was it about the man that he seemed to have stepped out of a Victorian Gothic novel?
He gave her a curt nod, then disappeared again. As she listened to his footsteps on the stairs she wondered why, when he’d come to her shop, she had believed he had a human side. Brittle and bad-tempered was his default setting.
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the tie-backs she’d made from buttons and beads threaded onto wire and attached them to the ornate hooks in the wall. She had tied back one curtain and almost finished the second when she accidentally knocked her box of curtain hooks off the windowsill. The tiny plastic hooks scattered across the wooden floor. She crouched to pick them up, but when she tried to get up again, her hair tugged and she gave a little squeal. It had caught in the tie-back.
She twisted her head to see and tried to loosen it, but she could hardly move her head. Working blind, Evie felt around with her fingers. It wasn’t just a thin strand of hair but a thick chunk, and it was caught near the root. She twisted it one way, then the other, trying to work it loose.
Five minutes later, she was no closer to freeing herself – in fact, she might have tangled it more – and her heart fluttered with panic. She looked at her sewing bag. It was within reach, and inside it were her scissors, but she’d have to cut her hair at the root, and that would be very noticeable.
She ran through her options: Jake was downstairs in his study, but he was the last person she could ask, especially after his stern words earlier. She reached into her pocket for her phone and scrolled through the names until she found Natasha’s.
‘Nat?’ she said quietly.
‘Evie! Why are you whispering?’
‘I’ll explain later. Where are you?’
‘At home. Lottie and I are making a Christmas cake. Why?’
‘You’ve got to help me. I’m stuck …’ She explained what had happened.
‘Is Jake home?’ asked Natasha.
‘I can’t ask him. He already thinks I’m ditzy and this will just confirm it. I’d rather cut my hair than ask him.’
‘Don’t cut your hair! Whatever you do, promise me you won’t cut it, okay?’
Evie bit her lip. She couldn’t very well stay here indefinitely, could she?
‘Evie, you’ve got gorgeous hair. Promise me!’
‘Okay, I promise.’
‘Give me five minutes and I’ll sort this.’
‘Thanks, Nat. See you soon.’
She tucked her phone back into her pocket and tried to get as comfortable as she could, kneeling on the wooden floor. She opened her mouth to sing and cheer herself up, but the sound of Jake’s phone ringing downstairs reminded her of why that wasn’t a good idea. It wasn’t the first time she’d found herself in a scrape like this. When she was small she’d once got her head stuck between the wooden bars of the banister at home while spying on a visiting aunt downstairs. In the end, a spindle of the eighteenth-century mahogany banister had had to be sawn out to free her. Her father had been furious. Evie shifted on her knees. If he could see her now, he’d say, For Heaven’s sake, Evelyn, not again! Why can’t you be more careful?
She was twenty-eight years old, and still asking herself the same question.
The sound of the door opening behind her made her start. ‘How did you get here so quickly?’ she asked, and twisted her head as far as she could – which wasn’t much – to see Natasha.
‘It’s not that far really,’ said a deep male voice.
She stilled, horrified that he’d found her like this. ‘Jake?’
She heard footsteps on the wooden floor as he approached. ‘Natasha called me.’
Evie closed her eyes. Thanks, Natasha. Thank you very much. What would he think of her now?
‘I – I don’t know how it happened. I bent down to pick something up, and now I just can’t untangle it.’
He appeared at her side and bent to look. The smell of his aftershave wove through the air, stirring her senses.
‘There are scissors here if you need them,’ she said dolefully. Suddenly, cutting her hair and removing herself as fast as possible didn’t seem like such a bad option. In fact, anything would be better than finding herself trapped in this embarrassing situation with Jake Hartwood.
‘Natasha made me promise not to cut it,’ he said. She could hear from his voice that he was concentrating, and she could feel his fingers working busily to free her.
‘It might be unavoidable.’
‘Tell me if it pulls,’ he said quietly.
‘It’s not pulling.’ His touch was gentle and he worked patiently. She pictured his long, delicate fingers, and her skin tightened with awareness.
‘It could take a while.’
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she said, with a weak laugh. Of all the people to find her in this humiliating situation, why did it have to be him?
She could hear the soft, regular sound of his breathing, and it felt strangely intimate. Her muscles tensed. Her skin glowed like a log burner. Perhaps Natasha had been right when she’d said he was hot.
But it only made this more excruciating.
‘I hope your ex hasn’t bothered you again since Saturday night.’
Evie’s eyes widened with horror. A prickly sensation spread from her chest up her neck. ‘You heard about that?’ She twisted her head to try to see him.
‘Don’t move.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I didn’t hear about it. I was there.’ A short pause followed. ‘I was sorting out a delivery of wine.’
Oh, God. First he’d met her parents, and now he’d witnessed her row with Tim. What must he think? ‘Not all my relationships are dysfunctional, honest! Just those with my parents … and my ex.’
‘I believe it’s commonplace for there to be hostility with ex-boyfriends.’
‘Ex-fiancé,’ she corrected. Though why it mattered, she had no idea. The toad was out of her life for good. ‘You’re right. Still, it wasn’t nice to have it aired in public like that. I wish he’d just accept it’s over between us and stay away from me.’
‘He’s been harassing you?’
She nodded – then winced as the movement tugged at her hair. ‘Only since his girlfriend dumped him, and it was just phone calls until now. Saturday was the first time he’d come here in person. Hopefully the last.’ It worried her that he knew where she was. ‘The thing I can’t understand is, he doesn’t seem to feel any remorse for what he did. If it was down to him, we’d still be having meetings with the vicar and going ahead with the wedding.’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘God knows what kind of marriage it would have been. He hasn’t grasped the concept of fidelity.’
‘Some people regard marriage as a convenient arrangement rather than a lifelong commitment.’
‘Yes … I don’t know what I ever saw in him.’ Evie forced a bright smile. ‘Still, he did me a favour because now I know for certain that I�
��m better off without him. Without any man. And it’s good timing, really, because I need to focus all my attention on the shop and getting it off the ground.’
‘Pollyanna,’ he said quietly, and she heard in his voice the faintest of smiles, ‘do you look for the silver lining in every situation?’
‘Absolutely. And it’s true – I don’t have time for a relationship, so it’s good that he’s vaccinated me against Man Fever.’
He sniggered and she blushed, realising she’d divulged an awful lot, considering he was a client.
The room fell silent, but it was a comfortable silence. Darkness had fallen outside, and she heard the distant call of a fox. Downstairs, Smoke barked in response.
‘Thank you for your advice about my shop, by the way. I’ve drawn up some plans and I feel a lot more hopeful now.’
‘Good.’
‘Do you want to hear them?’
‘Your plans? Not especially.’
No matter how much time she spent with this man, his blunt manner never failed to catch her out. ‘Oh,’ she said, unable to hide her disappointment. Why had she, even for a second, thought that he would be interested?
‘Sewing is not my area of expertise,’ he added, in a conciliatory tone.
‘I suppose not.’
‘But I’m glad I helped in some small way. It sounds as if you’ve been putting all your energies into curtains and not enough into making the shop successful.’
‘Yes. I was. Silly of me, really …’
‘Not silly. Perhaps a little short-sighted, but when money is tight, I’d imagine that’s an easy mistake to make.’
He was right. She’d been so worried about paying her rent and bills that she’d pounced on any commissions for curtains that had come her way. Now, however, she was going to focus on her shop. Once she’d finished kitting out the Old Hall with soft furnishings, of course.
‘There,’ he said, a few moments later.
She felt her hair release and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you so much.’ She got up, rubbing her aching knees, then did her best to pat down her hair. ‘I interrupted your work – again. I’m so sorry.’
The Christmas Holiday: The perfect heart-warming read full of festive magic Page 9
