Snowflakes and Cinnamon Swirls at the Winter Wonderland

by Heidi Swain

  ‘But that’s absurd, Hayley.’ Jemma laughed. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy it?’

  I couldn’t tell her that because I didn’t go in for telling lies. Not anymore.

  ‘I do enjoy it,’ I said instead, ‘I just choose not to do it publicly.’

  ‘Well, I hope you change your mind about that pretty sharpish.’

  ‘Why would I?’

  ‘Because I would love it if you came up with some designs, in exactly the same sort of style as these,’ she said, waving the flyer under my nose, ‘to print on cards, stationery, mugs and cushions, all sorts of things. I want to stock and sell them in the café.’

  ‘Be serious!’ I blurted out, drawing the attention of the couple with a pushchair standing nearest.

  ‘I am being serious,’ she said, looking at me as if she really meant business. ‘You have a phenomenal talent, Hayley, and more than that, a great eye for detail. The town is crying out for more local artists and craftspeople to represent the area, and I think your work would more than happily sit side by side with those who are already here. It’s certainly good enough.’

  I really didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t often that I was at a loss for words, but this was right up there with my top floored moments.

  ‘Think about it, please,’ she said, ‘and in the meantime, stop hiding your light and let folk congratulate you on a beautiful job very well done.’

  ‘Does that mean that everyone knows?’ I squeaked.

  My stomach squirmed as I took in the crowds and the number of people carrying flyers. Flyers designed by me, which were now out in the public arena. I mentally crossed my fingers in the hope that they would be more focused on the details of the Winter Wonderland than the person who had worked so hard to try to depict it.

  ‘Pretty much,’ she smiled, waving to Tom and her two children. ‘You think about what I’ve said, OK?’

  ‘OK,’ I promised, ‘I’ll certainly give it all some thought.’

  Having tucked the rest of the flyers into one of my bags, I decided against biting into my bun, despite the tempting scent of spices, now that my appetite had been well and truly curbed. I made my way over to The Mermaid, where I had agreed to meet the others for the countdown to the switch-on.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked Anna, herself the picture of rosy-cheeked health as she tucked into a hog roast roll from Skylark Farm. ‘You look a bit peaky.’

  ‘I’m all right,’ I nodded, feeling guilty for assuming that she was the one who had let my artistic cat out of the bag. ‘Where are the others?’

  ‘Jamie, Catherine and Angus are chatting to Ed, the lad from the owl sanctuary, and his mum, Mags. Apparently,’ she explained, ‘the boy is the brains behind the whole thing. He has a real passion for wildlife and has taken in injured and abandoned birds ever since he was a young lad.’

  ‘I bet that’s made for an interesting home life,’ I smiled.

  There had been a girl at school who had been mad keen on saving hedgehogs. She was always in the paper appealing for pet food. I bet birds made far more mess than the hedgehogs.

  ‘And what about Molly and Archie? Where are they?’

  ‘Where do you think?’

  ‘Don’t tell me they’ve gone back to the hall?’

  ‘No,’ said Anna, grinning. ‘A taxi back to Molly’s place. Apparently, that’s where Archie’s going to be staying over Christmas.’

  ‘Well I never,’ I laughed as I tried to imagine Archie Connelly living in Molly’s incense-filled little cottage. ‘I bet he heads back to the hall for his dinners though.’

  Anna gave me a sideways glance and I felt a little panicked.

  ‘Did that sound bitchy?’ I gabbled. ‘Because I didn’t mean it to, I just meant—’

  ‘That Molly can’t cook for toffee,’ said Anna, finishing my sentence. ‘I know that, we all know that, even Molly, so no, you didn’t sound bitchy at all.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Well,’ she said, linking arms as the local radio presenter took to the stage in front of the town hall for the official Wynbridge Christmas lights switch-on, ‘I was just thinking that with Jamie and I loved up and Molly and Archie tucked up in the woods, all that’s left to do now is to find a man for you.’

  ‘You know full well that I’m not in the market,’ I reminded her.

  ‘That’s as may be,’ she said, pulling me into her side, ‘but let’s see if you’re still of the same opinion after the greenery gathering, shall we?’

  So much for her forgetting all about our stupid bread-based bet.

  After the town and trees were lit and the smoke from the fireworks had finally cleared, everyone either headed home or into the pub. As ever, The Mermaid was packed but I didn’t have to worry about joining the queue because I had barely crossed the threshold before half a pint of cider was thrust into my hand.

  ‘I saw you outside earlier,’ said Gavin, ‘and I had a feeling you’d end up in here.’

  ‘You’ve got a bloody cheek,’ said Anna, stepping between us, trying to prise the glass from my hand.

  She looked absolutely furious, as well she might, given that I hadn’t let her or anyone else at the hall know that I had met Gavin in secret and set a few things straight. Had I relinquished my grip on the glass, I was certain my ex would have ended up wearing its contents.

  Gavin looked at me and shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘It’s fine,’ I told Anna, putting down my bags and pulling the glass free. ‘We’re fine,’ I added. ‘I should have told you before, but we’ve sorted things out. Well, enough to be civil to one another at least.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ she frowned.

  ‘Because I didn’t think it would matter,’ I said simply.

  ‘And it’s nothing to do with you,’ muttered Gavin as he followed me away from the queuing hordes.

  ‘That’s not fair,’ I said over my shoulder. ‘She’s my friend and she cares about me, so really it’s everything to do with her.’

  I felt bad for Anna and knew that I would have to apologise before bedtime.

  ‘So why didn’t you tell her we were talking again?’ asked Gavin as we wedged ourselves into a corner.

  I didn’t feel comfortable being in such close proximity to him, especially with so many pairs of curious eyes trained on us, but there was barely room to breathe let alone cordon off any personal space.

  ‘None of your business,’ I shot back and Gavin laughed.

  ‘Seen much of your mum and dad since you moved?’

  ‘I haven’t seen them at all,’ I told him, ‘I’ve been too busy at the hall.’

  Gavin nodded, took a pull at his pint then reached down and lifted one of the flyers out of my bag.

  ‘Good this, isn’t it?’ he said, his eyes scanning the information.

  ‘Should be,’ I agreed, trying not to think of him and his mates rocking up to see Santa and finding me in the dreaded elf outfit I just knew Angus had tucked away somewhere for me.

  ‘I meant this,’ said Gavin, waving the paper, ‘although the weekend sounds like fun too.’

  I narrowed my eyes and wondered if he had been the one to spill the beans. Surely not.

  ‘Can we expect the pleasure of your company at the Winter Wonderland then?’ asked Anna, who had managed to get served and fight her way through the crowd to us in record time.

  Her tone was just bordering on the right side of civil, which I was sure was for my benefit rather than Gavin’s.

  ‘Perhaps,’ he smiled, turning his blue eyes on her. ‘I know my sister’s little ’uns would love it.’

  That was a marked improvement on the thought of him descending with his scaffolding crew.

  Anna looked at me and raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Don’t look so surprised,’ said Gavin, giving her a nudge when he spotted the look. ‘I’m a great uncle. I often take the girls out. I’ll have you know, I take my family responsibilities very seriously.’

 
Anna didn’t look all that convinced.

  ‘Well,’ she said primly, ‘it’s good to know there are some things in life that you take seriously.’

  Gavin’s hand flew to his heart.

  ‘Ouch,’ he yelped, ‘you got me.’

  A smile tugged at the corners of Anna’s mouth as I rolled my eyes.

  ‘Hayley knows that I’m sorry, Anna,’ Gavin went on, sensing her frostiness towards him was melting a little. ‘So can we at least try to get along?’

  ‘Gavin,’ said Jamie, catching us up before Anna had a chance to answer. ‘I thought I heard your voice.’

  That was an outright lie. It was so noisy in the pub it was impossible to distinguish one voice from another. My friend’s eyes flicked to me and I did my best to let him know that the situation was fine. No fisticuffs required.

  ‘I just wanted to congratulate Hayley on a job well done,’ Gavin said. ‘I’ll be off in a minute.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I asked.

  ‘This,’ he said, waving the flyer about again. ‘It’s one of your designs, isn’t it?’

  I stood rooted to the spot, opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water. Anna burst out laughing.

  ‘My god,’ she said, ‘you should see the look on your face, Hayley.’

  ‘It is yours, isn’t it?’ Gavin asked me again.

  ‘She tried to tell us,’ said Anna, when it became clear that I was keeping my lips sealed, ‘that she wasn’t going to do it anymore because every time she did, something in her life went wrong.’

  ‘But you convinced her to change her mind?’ smiled Gavin, making Anna blush.

  ‘I was part of the posse who cajoled her into having another go after the pair of you parted company, yes,’ she confirmed, bobbing her head.

  How did he do that? Not ten minutes ago she had been all set to drown him in cider and now she was sounding almost coquettish. It was one heck of a skill.

  ‘But I’m done,’ I said, finally finding my voice. ‘I don’t think I’ll carry on.’

  ‘You need to go and find Jemma,’ said Gavin with a grin. ‘If you have a chat with her, you might just find yourself being cajoled all over again!’

  There was no way I was going to tell him in front of the others that I’d already seen her, but at least I now knew who had let my artistic cat out of the bag.

  Chapter 21

  I was pulled out of my slumber ridiculously early the next morning, ridiculously early for a Sunday, anyway.

  ‘Hayley,’ came Dorothy’s voice through my bedroom door. ‘Are you awake?’

  I ignored her, hoping she would go away, but it was no good. My manners got the better of me.

  ‘A bit,’ I groaned, pulling the eiderdown further up the bed and over my head.

  The Sunday lie-in was sacrosanct as far as I was concerned, but apparently my roommate hadn’t received the memo. I heard the door knob being turned and knew that I was done for. There was no way I would be able to go back to sleep now.

  ‘You haven’t forgotten, have you?’

  ‘I think I might have,’ I replied, peeping over the top of the covers and squinting as the light from the sitting room shone like a beacon across my bed.

  I had no idea what it was that I was supposed to have remembered, but that was probably because of the amount of local cider I’d drunk at the post switch-on celebration in the pub.

  ‘It’s stir-up Sunday,’ said Dorothy. ‘Today’s the day I make the puddings and everyone has a hand in giving them a stir and making a wish.’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ I croaked, wondering why she had to start so early. ‘Of course.’

  Not surprisingly, stir-up Sunday wasn’t a tradition kept in my childhood home. My mother had been all about the microwave when it came to heating the sweet post-turkey pud.

  ‘Well, come on then,’ said Dorothy, tugging at the corner of the blankets, ‘up and at ’em or you’ll miss your turn.’

  ‘Don’t wait for me,’ I told her as I turned over and hunkered back down. ‘I haven’t got anything to wish for this year.’

  ‘Now, I don’t believe that,’ she laughed, flicking on my bedside lamp before she left, ‘I don’t believe that at all.’

  I wasn’t the only one looking a little bleary-eyed around the breakfast table, but the heady aroma wafting from the huge bowl of brandy-infused mixed fruit Dorothy was attending to was enough to make me feel tipsy all over again.

  ‘I know I haven’t been here for all that many switch-ons,’ said Anna, bouncing into her seat and handing her other half a box of paracetamol and a glass of water, ‘but that was definitely my favourite so far.’

  It had been a good night, you only had to look at Jamie’s bloodshot eyes to see that, but Little Miss Designated Driver was rather too perky for my liking.

  ‘How’s your head this morning, Hayley?’ She beamed, taking back the box from Jamie, popping out two pills for him and then sliding the packet over to me.

  ‘Fine,’ I said, pushing the box back. ‘Nothing a cup of tea and a bacon butty won’t set to rights, anyway.’

  ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the bacon,’ said Dorothy, ‘but the pot’s fresh.’

  ‘I’ll do breakfast this morning,’ said Anna, jumping back up and pecking Dorothy on the cheek, ‘you concentrate on the puds.’

  To my amazement our beloved cook didn’t object, and in no time at all Anna set down platefuls of fried breakfast for us to feast on.

  ‘I have to say I was surprised to see you three drinking with Gavin of all people last night,’ said Mick, who had also been tempted from his bed to join us.

  ‘Yes,’ said Jamie, who appeared to be feeling ever so slightly more human now he had a plate of food in front of him, ‘how did that happen, Hayley? Have you really made up with him?’

  Dorothy tutted and shook her grey head.

  ‘It wasn’t some playground spat they had,’ she reminded him. ‘The blaggard broke her heart.’

  ‘You make him sound like some love rat from a Jane Austen novel,’ frowned Anna as she thoughtfully buttered her toast. ‘Which is exactly what he is, isn’t he?’ She gasped, as if only remembering the truth now. ‘So yes, Hayley, how exactly did we end up spending the evening with him?’

  She knew that Gavin and I had met and cleared the air, but she was obviously as puzzled about his unique ability to make a woman forgive and forget as I was, although, in my case, I wasn’t going to forget what he had done in a hurry. His abhorrent behaviour had ensured I was sworn off all serious relationships with men. Or at least I was supposed to be. The unforgettable kiss with Gabe and the feelings the mere thought of him aroused had made my new plan tough to stick to.

  ‘Although,’ she went on before I attempted to frame an answer, ‘I can’t help but notice how he has made some sort of effort to make amends for his behaviour.’

  Jamie nodded in agreement and attacked his chipolatas with gusto.

  ‘And how do you work that one out?’ scowled Mick.

  ‘Well, if it wasn’t for him,’ chewed Jamie, pointing his loaded fork towards one of the flyers we hadn’t handed out, ‘then no one would be any the wiser that it was Hayley who’d designed these.’

  ‘But she didn’t want anyone to know,’ said Mick exasperatedly, ‘so I fail to see how him letting it slip has led to his redemption.’

  ‘Because he happened to tell Jemma,’ I explained, picking up the thread, ‘and now she’s got it in her head that I can come up with some unique designs to print on mugs and cushions to sell at the café.’

  Mick raised his eyebrows and looked at the flyer again.

  ‘And stationery,’ chipped in Anna. ‘You said she mentioned stationery as well.’

  ‘She’s completely bonkers,’ I continued, shaking my head.

  I didn’t add that I had spent half the night staring at the ceiling imagining what it would actually feel like to create something shop-worthy and then seeing it sitting on the café shelf, before be
ing selected, paid for and taken away to be displayed and treasured.

  To say it was the stuff of dreams didn’t even come close. But it was just a pipe dream, wasn’t it? Something to be fantasised about in the wee hours and then set aside when it was time to get up and start vacuuming again.

  ‘So, you aren’t going to do it, then?’ asked Jamie, sounding disappointed.

  ‘You could start really small,’ said Anna. ‘Just a couple of designs on one sort of product to begin with to see how they go.’

  ‘That’s a good idea in theory, but you all seem to be forgetting,’ I reminded them, ‘that I already have a job. One that I’m really rather fond of.’

  ‘But that doesn’t mean that you can’t combine it with another,’ said Catherine.

  I hadn’t heard her enter the kitchen. The last thing I wanted was for her to think I was planning to hand in my notice, especially after I had only just moved in. I wasn’t going to do anything that would jeopardise living at Wynthorpe Hall.

  ‘I’ve just been reading an article about women who manage to combine day jobs with bespoke craft businesses,’ she said, laying the most recent issue of Country Living magazine down on the table.

  I looked at the competent women smiling out of the pages. Women with style, substance and business acumen, all proudly showing off their accomplishments.

  ‘But what you’re also forgetting,’ I sighed, ‘is that I’m Hayley Hurren from Wynbridge. The woman who put her life on hold because of her teenage mistake. How would my tight tops and skinny jeans look amongst this lot? These women are in a different league to me.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Catherine. ‘It doesn’t matter what sort of clothes you wear. And I can’t see a single paragraph on any of these pages that spells out the mistakes these women may or may not have made in their lives. What happened in their pasts may even define their current successes, but we don’t need to know that, do we? This feature is all about utilising skills, seeking out opportunities and biting the bullet.’