by Clare Lydon
“I do understand what Christmas means around here. I can feel it, too. But I’ve got a lot of work to get through right up until the day and beyond.”
“And we totally understand.” Dad gave her his understanding smile. “But do think about coming home. Even on Christmas morning if you have to.”
Fran nodded. “I will.”
Under the table, Ruby squeezed her hand and let go.
Fran quivered, but didn’t dare look Ruby’s way.
“It was a good job the crackers sold, but the trees didn’t move quite as well as we wanted.” Paul sighed as he sipped his pint. “I blame Ikea.”
“What’s Ikea done?” Fran wanted to get the conversation moving again. Away from her.
“Last year, they built a store 15 miles away, and offered customers a £20 voucher if they buy their tree from them for £30. That makes the tree a tenner, and we can’t compete with that. The festival was always our biggest-selling weekend of the year until Ikea opened. Our sales were down 25 per cent last year.”
“Still, it’ll all work out. We’ve been through worse!” Mary gave the table a decisive nod. “I believe in the power of community. We told enough people today to tell their friends to come to us. Hopefully, the word will get out and that will happen. I have faith.”
“Or people will give all their money to Ikea,” Audrey chimed in. “The coffee’s cheap, too. And the cinnamon buns are delicious.”
“Audrey Parrot! Tell me you didn’t buy your tree there?” The vein on the right of Mary’s neck began to throb.
“Of course I didn’t! What do you take me for? I just go there for tealights and kitchen goods. Also, for the cinnamon buns.”
Two hours later, Victoria and Eric turned out the lights, and the O’Connells and the Bells walked home together. The Christmas trees lining Farm Lane rustled in the breeze as they passed. It was still freezing, and Fran had her coat back on which wasn’t a patch on Mary’s. The first thing Fran was going to do in London was buy a better winter coat.
They arrived at Mistletoe Farm in five minutes. Mary and Paul hugged everyone, as did Fran’s dads. Their respective parents left, leaving Ruby and Fran together.
“No chance I can persuade you to come back to London and do the gig on the 22nd at The Pennywhistle?” Fran took a gamble. “There’s still a slot on the bill and you’d be perfect. Great way to showcase ‘Pieces Of You’.”
Ruby smiled, but shook her head. “I’m in Mistletoe for the season. I told you that; my family needs me. Plus, The Pennywhistle is hardly my crowd. You know my gig rules.”
“I disagree. It’s under new management and they’ve mixed things up. Plus, rules are made to be broken.”
Ruby ignored her comment. “I should be asking you the same question. No chance you’ll be coming back before the end of the year?”
“Not unless something drastic happens. My schedule doesn’t permit it.” Fran got caught in Ruby’s stare.
Something boomed in her chest, and Fran was taken right back to the hand holding earlier. She wasn’t sure what to do with these new emotions. She stuffed her hands deep in her pockets.
“Have a great Christmas. I’ll see you in the New Year?”
Ruby’s gaze dropped down Fran’s face, before returning to rest on her eyes. “I guess you will.” She gave her a nod, then walked down the drive.
Fran watched her go. Half of her wanted to walk with Ruby, to keep chatting. She was enjoying their time together. Enjoying this new level of friendship they seemed to have encountered. However, Fran’s sensible half knew she had to go.
Back to her normal life. Back to work. Back to reality.
She was just about to do just that, when Ruby stopped, then turned back to Fran.
When she saw Fran was still there, Ruby smiled.
She gave Fran a half-wave.
The world stood still for just a few seconds, the moonlight bathing the pair of them.
Fran sucked in a deep breath.
Then Ruby turned back, and walked to her front door.
Fran exhaled, then did the same.
Chapter 12
Ruby walked up the farm drive the next day. The pile of snow was still there, but the imprint of Fran’s body where she’d fallen had gone. It had snowed again overnight, and the air was icy on Ruby’s face. She could still picture Fran’s piercing blue eyes. The beat of her own heart. Had the surprise of her emotions shown on her face? She hoped not.
Ruby was still trying to work out her feelings towards Fran. It had been on her mind this morning, all through the voice coaching lesson she’d given on Zoom. Ruby had gone from being irritated and annoyed, to now sad she’d left? That was even after Fran kept pressing her to play some gigs. Ruby hated being challenged about that. She should have got straight back out there and played bigger venues. She knew that. Now, every year that went by, the fear just got bigger.
Ruby shook her head, and walked down Farm Lane. It was a lot quieter today after the hustle of the contest over the weekend. Now, the roads were clear, and the sky a brilliant white. When Ruby breathed out, she could see her breath in the air. Their gritting efforts over the weekend were already snuffed out with a new layer of fresh snow coating the village. It looked gorgeous, but it wasn’t good for business. Ruby had spent a lonely morning in the cafe with a steady trickle of customers. Still, it was only a Monday. Hopefully the week would pick up.
She breathed in the smell of Mistletoe Stores’ Christmas tree as she passed it — the Elvis Nordmann fir. Ruby waved hi to Henry who lived down the road, walking back with a bag of firewood. The bell over the shop rang as Ruby walked in.
Victoria popped up from under the counter.
Ruby let out a yelp as she clutched her chest. “What the hell are you doing, scaring me like that?”
Victoria grinned. “I didn’t mean to. I was trying to rescue a 10p, but it’s gone to the under-counter god, and shall never be seen again. When I die and they take this counter out, you’ll find riches underneath. It could pay off your mortgage.”
“Like I’m ever going to have enough money for a mortgage.” Ruby walked behind the counter and gave Victoria a hug. While Ruby had fiery-brown hair and emerald eyes, Victoria was fair-haired and blue-eyed. Nobody could ever believe they were related and came from the same parents, but they were. They shared the same wide mouth, inherited from their mother, but apart from that, the two sisters looked nothing alike. Plus, at 5ft 3, Victoria was a short-arse.
“To what do I owe this honour? I thought your plan today was to flog Christmas trees?” Victoria asked.
“That’s still the plan, but we need milk. We’ve run out at home, and Mum doesn’t want to eat into the cafe stock, just in case we have a mad dash on coffee later. I can’t see it happening, but Mum doesn’t want to tempt fate. Plus, we’re out of cheese. Which is an emergency in our house, as you well know.”
Victoria walked around the counter and to the fridge, bringing back a four-pint of milk and some Cathedral City, their dad’s favourite cheddar. “Do you have a lot of collections tonight?”
Ruby nodded. The farm had a couple of open days during November, where customers could walk the tree fields, then tag and pay for the one they wanted. They then arranged to pick it up on a specified date. The first week of December was a popular collection week. “A fair few. But we also need to shift the potted trees, plus all the mistletoe, wreaths, all that gubbins. You’d think people would want to come to Mistletoe Farm for their mistletoe, but when Sainsbury’s sells it for a quid a sprig, it’s tricky to compete.”
“I’ve been sending people your way this morning, so fingers crossed it picks up.” Victoria put the groceries on the counter, then glanced at Ruby. “While you’re here, can you give me a hand putting up the Christmas stuff in the window? I need to get up on the ladder, but you know I hate doing that.”
Ruby grabbed the stepladder from the back. This had always been her job in the family ever since she was little. Chief getter of th
ings from up high.
Victoria pointed. “I want to put up a display with panettones, crackers, and Christmas puddings. The hampers are selling like hot cakes, so they were a great idea.”
“Good.” Ruby steadied the ladder. “You got the stuff to give me?”
Victoria disappeared, before reappearing with boxes of Christmas supplies.
Ruby climbed four steps, then turned around, bending her knees carefully, hands out.
Victoria began passing mini Christmas puddings up for the festive shelf, which was suspended over the window display with two chains, like a massive swing.
Ruby took three puddings and began to juggle them. She was a champion juggler. Also, a champion sibling annoyer.
Sure enough, Victoria tutted. “No theatrics, thank you. I’d like the display finished today.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
Ruby juggled for a few seconds, then put the puddings on one of the ladder’s steps, giving Victoria a bow.
She got an arched eyebrow in return.
Ruby picked up the goods with a smirk, then missed her step on the next rung. Her heart dropped as she crushed her weight into the ladder to steady herself, the puddings clutched to her chest. She didn’t drop one. She never did. Ruby was rock-solid on a ladder. Even when she was a little too big for her boots.
Victoria gave her a stern stare. “Fucking hell, that was close.” She gestured with her hand. “Put it on the display shelf, please.”
Ruby’s heart was still racing. She did as she was told, then took four more puddings and did the same.
“The contest went well, didn’t it? Dragged the crowds in, despite the snow.”
Ruby nodded. “We could just use another push. It’s rough having so much of your money earned in a single month.”
Victoria grunted.
It wasn’t a new issue.
“How were things with Fran when she left? You two looked like you were getting on better than when she spat her sausage roll on you.” There was a smile in Victoria’s voice as she spoke.
“It could only really get better from there, couldn’t it?”
“That’s a hard yes.”
Ruby took a fruit panettone from her sister and put it on the festive shelf swing. “Did Eric do this?” Ruby patted it. The shelf bobbed from side to side, the chains clanking.
“He did. Very happy with himself.”
“I can see why.” Ruby took another panettone, then another. “Do people actually buy these?”
Victoria nodded. “They do. Whether they eat them or know what to do with them is another matter. Audrey said she bought one last year but was baffled by it. She was thinking of using it as a small stool.” Her sister laughed. “Might be the last Christmas we sell them with Brexit looming.”
Ruby harrumphed. “Next year, it’ll be suet pudding and other grimness. Back to the 40s. I’ve never eaten panettone. Maybe I shouldn’t try, in case I love it and then I can never buy it again.”
Victoria made a face, and passed her more Italian cakes. “Anyway, back to Fran. You two were working together at the farm on Saturday, weren’t you?”
Ruby nodded. “We were. It was a little rocky to begin with. She doesn’t trust singers because…” Ruby paused. She’d made a promise not to say anything about Fran and Delilah. “She’s had her heart broken before. I don’t trust music execs because I’ve had my trust broken before. We had some hurdles to overcome. But once we did that, it was fine.”
More than fine, but Ruby wasn’t about to tell Victoria that. Her sister had a way of running her mouth off to their parents. Ruby was still processing what had happened between her and Fran. The last thing she needed was Mum and Dad’s curiosity piqued.
“Is she dating?” Victoria’s tone was light, but Ruby knew the question behind it.
“She’s not. She’s single and happy with that.”
A pause, some rustling, then Victoria passed Ruby two packs of Florentines. “Can you put them at the front? I’ve got some tinsel to pack around it all, too.”
Ruby held the display with one hand and arranged the festive treats.
“She’s gay, though? I mean, she didn’t come out and say it, but I got the impression she was.”
“The impression?”
“Yes,” Victoria replied. “Just something about her. Plus, she was wearing those cool, arty shoes.”
This was new. “I don’t wear those, and I’m gay.”
Victoria waved her hand. “Yes, but you’re a musician. You wear all manner of weird and wonderful things and nobody bats an eyelid. Fran, on the other hand…”
“Looked like a hipster? Those shoes are in.”
“Not in Mistletoe,” Victoria replied.
“Last time I checked, our little town was not the height of fashion. Or did I miss something? Is Milan planning to forego its slot on the European fashion circuit and base it here instead?”
“It would be a great plan for getting customers to the village year-round.”
Ruby snarked an eyebrow. “If you’re asking is Fran gay, the answer is yes. At least, her last relationship was with a woman.”
Victoria gave Ruby a wide smile. “You see, I can still pick them. I may be boring and married to a man, but I’m still up on the game.”
“So long as you’re not on the game.”
Victoria slapped her leg.
Ruby grabbed the top of the step-ladder, then steadied herself. “Ow! You really need to treat your unpaid help a little better.”
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, back to you. Fran is gay, queer, whatever. She likes the ladies. You are queer and also like the ladies. So perhaps there’s something there?”
“Just because we’re queer does not mean we will automatically fall into each other’s vaginas. It’s not how it works, Vicky. I thought we had this discussion when I came out ten years ago.” Ruby purposely used the shortened version of her sister’s name, knowing she hated it. It was only ever Victoria.
“Less of the Vicky, thank you.” Victoria scowled as she passed up some green tinsel, along with some foam Santas and reindeers. “Hang this lot from the chains, please. And you know what I mean about Fran. You said yourself you got on. Didn’t you?”
Ruby smiled. In the end, they had. Even had a laugh together. They’d made trees look pretty. Fallen in the snow. Plus, Ruby couldn’t deny that Fran had stirred something inside of her. That she’d let her eyes trail Fran’s lips and think about kissing them. What’s more, Ruby had clutched Fran’s hand at the bar.
Ruby scrunched her forehead as the memory popped into her mind. She tried to push it away. It didn’t work. Standing on the ladder in Mistletoe Stores’ shop window, her pulse quickened. It was almost like she was next to Fran again, her leg pressing against hers, their hands joined. Ruby couldn’t say why she’d grabbed Fran’s hand. In the moment, it had felt like the right thing to do. To support her. Londoners had to stick together in the face of country folk who didn’t understand their world, even if Ruby had a foot in both camps.
And yet. There had been something more to it, hadn’t there? Something Ruby had seen in Fran’s eyes when she’d landed on her in the snow. Something Ruby had felt in her bones when she had to say goodbye to Fran last night.
Ruby missed Fran. Despite their initial differences, they had a lot in common: a love of music, family, London, Mistletoe. Ruby missed their chat. Their connection. Fran’s smile.
Am I seriously thinking about the smile of a music exec? She needed her head examined.
As the image of Fran’s radiant smile filled her head, Ruby wobbled. Her body shook. Then she fell sideways, dropping through the air, to land squarely on a box of Florentines which now might have to be marketed as ‘broken but edible’.
“Ruby!” Victoria’s voice scratched the air as she smothered Ruby, pushing her sister’s hair back from her face.
Ruby winced. Her knee throbbed. Her hand was grazed. Her shoulder was hot. But she was okay. She sat up, and rubb
ed her shoulder with her other hand.
“What the fuck? You never fall. Did you black out? Should we call a doctor?”
Ruby shook her head. This was normally true. But since she’d met Fran, she’d fallen twice. Was she falling for her, too? Ruby’s throat went dry. “I’m fine. I just zoned out for a moment, then I was on the ground.” She staggered upright, the heat of embarrassment crawling up her cheeks. She wanted to get out of there as quick as she could. She didn’t need an inquisition from her sister.
“Are you sure? You don’t feel light-headed?”
Ruby shook her head, brushing herself down. She glanced at the Florentines. “Sorry about those.”
Victoria grinned. “Eric will be thrilled. He loves them. Now he can have a box all to himself.” She put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Ruby stepped back onto the ladder. There was nothing medically wrong with her. She wasn’t going to tell her sister she’d zoned out thinking about Fran, the very person she’d just told her she wasn’t interested in. The best way to avoid more chat was to finish her display and get back to the farm.
Chapter 13
Fran twisted in her office chair and stared at Damian. His mouth was full of Double Decker, and he was trying to get her to place a bet on whether it was going to be a white Christmas, as well as what song would take the coveted Christmas number one spot.
“The forecasters are predicting snow.” Damian wiped the side of his mouth.
“That’s not a stretch, seeing as it’s been pretty snowy already.”
“Stick 50 quid on and you could easily double your money.”
“Or lose it all.” Fran wasn’t keen on predicting the weather or the charts, especially when they had skin in the game with Fast Forward. The band had just released their Christmas single, and the next couple of weeks would be the big push to get them as close as possible. Top five would be a result. Top three, even better. Number one was the dream. But their main aim was to get the song into the heads of all the teenagers out there, so they’d be streaming it throughout December and beyond.
