Christmas In Mistletoe

by Clare Lydon

  “But it might be what she needs. When everyone sees this, hears her vocals, they’ll lose their shit.”

  It was Ruby losing her shit Fran was more worried about. Especially if Ruby’s big break involved Delilah.

  “No posting.” Fran’s tone was stern. “Let me ask her first. I don’t want to rock the boat. Delilah, look at me.”

  Delilah squinted.

  “This is really important, okay?”

  Delilah gave her a slow nod. “No boat-rocking. I promise.”

  A tap on Fran’s shoulder made her turn. It was Damian.

  “Our girls are on in five. You want to come and stand at the front with me?”

  Fran nodded, glancing at Delilah. “Sure thing. Let me just get this one settled on a sofa first and I’ll be with you.” Fran guided Delilah to a sofa on the far wall, then knelt beside her. “No posting any videos, got it?”

  Delilah tried to focus by placing a hand on Fran’s cheek. “None at all. Or Fran will be very angry with me. Must not make Fran angry.”

  Chapter 31

  Ruby always said December was the month she got in shape. Who needed the gym when you had a Christmas tree forest? Add Fran into the mix, and she was getting all the exercise she needed.

  She grinned as she walked across the barn and delivered the tree to her mum and the excited family. Ruby went to leave when something pulled her back. When she turned, a small hand had attached itself to the sleeve of her thick coat.

  “Were you the singer from Saturday?” The young girl of the Christmas tree family stared up at Ruby.

  Ruby squatted down, nodding. “I was,” she replied. “Were you there?”

  The young girl nodded. “You were my favourite.” She reached into her small pink rucksack and pulled out a notebook and pen. “Can I have your autograph?”

  Ruby glanced up at the child’s mum, then back to the young girl. “Of course.” This wasn’t the first time she’d been asked for her autograph, but it was the first time outside a gig venue. This was significant. “Who should I sign it to?”

  “Me,” said the girl, pointing at her chest.

  Ruby grinned. “What’s your name?”

  “Sophia.”

  Ruby did just that.

  Sophia gave her a shy smile. “When I grow up, I want to be a singer, too.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out for you in a few years’ time, then.”

  Ruby said her goodbyes, then slid into the barn office and fired up the computer. She logged into Spotify. Her streams were off the scale. Her sales were up, too. How many did it take to get in the charts? Ruby had no idea. All she did know was this time last week, her numbers were average. Now, they were like nothing she’d ever seen before, and they’d really soared overnight.

  She leaned back in the office chair. She had no idea what had gone on, but she had a strange feeling in her stomach. Could it be things were finally happening, all from one gig? She found it hard to believe. What’s more, she had a ton of messages to reply to, including a few from labels and venues she recognised.

  They weren’t for today, though. Ruby had work to do. Plus, she’d responded to labels too quickly before. She had to remember she was the artist, the one with the gold. If they wanted a piece of her, they’d have to wait.

  The office door opened and her dad walked in, whistling. This was a new thing, too, and Ruby loved it. Over the past couple of years, her dad’s worry lines had got more pronounced. But this year, with pre-orders up and the crowds swarming in, he had a new spring in his step.

  “Rubytubes! What you up to? I hear you’ve been asked for an autograph in the barn!”

  Ruby looked up. “Bit crazy, isn’t it? I just looked at my streams, too. They’ve been going mad since Saturday, and even more overnight. It seems bonkers one gig could do that.”

  Her dad parked his bum on the sofa, letting out an “ooof!” as he did. “No surprise. You were magnificent.” He paused, tilting his head. “Although, the gig made me realise this has to be your last year working at the farm. Your mum and I appreciate everything you’ve done for us over the past few years. Coming home, putting your career on hold year after year. You are a very special daughter.”

  Ruby swallowed down emotion, covering it up with a shrug. “It’s what we do, isn’t it? Christmas is not Christmas without selling trees.”

  “But it should be for you.” Her dad looked her in the eye. “The farm is finding its feet again. The pumpkin patch, the contest, your gig. You need to put you first. You were incredible. You should be incredible everywhere.”

  Ruby glanced back to the monitor. The streaming numbers were still there. Belief surged through her. Could next year really be her year, finally?

  “Have you been talking to Fran about this?”

  Her dad frowned. “No. Should we have been?”

  Ruby shook her head. Everyone in her life agreed. But Ruby still wasn’t sure she was ready to take the next step.

  Coming back to Mistletoe year after year, she was able to hide, to pull back. If she put her music first and really committed, what happened when it all went wrong? Or, more to the point, what happened when it all went right? Was Fran right? Was Ruby scared of success?

  “What I’m saying is, we’re all paid to be here. This is going to be Scott’s business if he wants it. Your Mum and I, it’s what we do. It’s not what you do. You’re destined for bigger things.”

  Ruby stared at him. If she didn’t have to come back to Mistletoe for six weeks and effectively take two months off her year, she could put so many more things into motion. She could make that video she’d been promising. Finally record a few more solo songs and some with Tom. She could open all the emails and messages she’d been avoiding forever. She could really plan ahead.

  Was she ready for it? Ruby knew what Fran would say: yes.

  “If you give me one thing for Christmas this year, I’d like it to be you putting your whole self into your career. Will you do that for me?”

  Ruby was just about to answer when Victoria burst into the office, out of breath. She’d clearly been running. Victoria hated running.

  “Great, you’re here. I’ve been trying to call you, but you’re not answering.”

  Ruby shook her head. “My phone’s over there charging.” She pointed towards the drinks station where the coffee machine was unplugged to juice Ruby’s phone. “Where’s the fire?”

  “On Instagram. On Delilah’s Instagram, to be precise.”

  Cold fear slid down Ruby as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice on her. Had Fran and Delilah been photographed again? She jumped up and grabbed her phone, then called up Instagram. She’d been tagged. By Delilah.

  A part of Ruby said this was good news. A chart-topping pop star had tagged her.

  But the other half told Ruby this was bad. That Delilah was trying to ingratiate herself with Fran.

  Fran was Ruby’s girlfriend. The sooner Ruby got back to London to press that home to Delilah, the better.

  Ruby clicked on the tag and blew out a breath.

  “What is it? What’s going on? And who’s Delilah?” Dad asked.

  Victoria threw her hands in the air. “She’s a major-league pop star, Dad! She’s had a few number ones. She’s a big deal, and she’s posted a video of Ruby singing on Saturday night on her feed!”

  “That’s brilliant news!” Dad looked from Ruby to Victoria, taking in their stern faces. “Isn’t it?”

  Victoria looked at Ruby. “I’m not sure, ask her.”

  Ruby should be thrilled, but her emotions towards Delilah were all mixed up with her emotions towards Fran. Did Fran know about this? Had the two of them discussed Ruby? Why wasn’t Delilah back on tour? Because she still harboured feelings for Fran?

  Ruby scrolled down Delilah’s Instagram feed. The next photo was a shot of Delilah, Fran, and Damian. Ruby’s insides churned.

  She walked back to the monitor. Her streams were still going up. The comments were rolling in. Her inbox w
as busy. This explained it all. It wasn’t about Saturday night. It was about Fran posting her video. Then Delilah taking that video and running with it. Ruby could already feel the control of her career slipping through her fingers.

  Ruby’s stomach fell. Had Fran planned this with Delilah? Had she been scheming to force Ruby’s hand, then play the hero by signing her? Had it been about business all along? Ruby had told Fran she wanted to take it at her own pace, but Fran had ignored that.

  Ruby felt like someone had just put on size ten boots and stamped out her insides, leaving her hollow. Had Fran betrayed her, after everything?

  “Isn’t Dad right, though? Isn’t this good news?” Victoria put a hand on her hip. “Your music’s finally getting out there.”

  Ruby gritted her teeth. “But I wanted to do it on my own terms. To get into the spotlight through working, through my songs, through gigs, word of mouth.”

  “You’ve built that already,” her dad said. “This is a helping hand.”

  “From my girlfriend’s ex.”

  “Does it matter who it’s from?” Victoria asked.

  Ruby glanced up and held her gaze. “It does to me.” Disappointment rippled through her, along with red-hot anger. Could she trust Fran? Was she going to run to Delilah with every part of Ruby’s career?

  She stood and grabbed her phone. “I need some air.”

  Ruby ran out of the office and through the barn, out into the Christmas tree fields. She wanted to run into the rows of Nordmann firs, lie down and hide from the noise. But she couldn’t. She had to speak to Fran. Who might at this moment be all over Delilah, thanking her for this generous act. The thought made bile climb up Ruby’s throat.

  She took some deep breaths, thinking back to where it had all started with Fran. The snowperson they’d rolled among the trees. The snowball fight. The incredible sex. But if she couldn’t trust her, did it all count for nothing? It was the music exec thing rearing its ugly head again, wasn’t it? Creativity versus commerce. The old struggle. Would they forever be butting heads? Could Ruby and Fran navigate their way through, even if they cleared the ex-girlfriend hurdle?

  Ruby turned and jogged towards the house. She ignored her mum’s wave. She didn’t want to be near people right now. She wanted calm. Silence. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to get it.

  She was steps from the farmhouse when her phone rang. She looked at the screen. It was Fran.

  Ruby’s heart froze. She slowed to a halt. Did she want to talk to Fran? It would certainly clear up a few things. She decided to be brave.

  “Thank goodness I caught you. Listen, have you seen your Instagram feed yet?”

  “I have.” Ruby’s tone was steely.

  “Shit.” Fran paused. “I need you to know, I asked Delilah not to post anything until I okayed it with you. She promised, but then she had a bit too much to drink last night at the office party and she did it anyway. I had no idea until I woke up this morning. By that time, it’d been viewed by thousands of people, so there wasn’t much I could do. But I want you to know, I didn’t ask her to do this. I know it would freak you out.”

  “You’re right about that.” Ruby let herself into the house.

  Chipper barked and jumped up. She walked into the lounge and he followed her in. She loved this room, but she hadn’t spent nearly enough time in here this year. There had been too much to do, with working, preparing for the gig and spending time with Fran. This year had been the best Christmas run-up she’d had in ages. She should remember that. Fran wasn’t the enemy. Or was she? Ruby had no idea what to think.

  “Can Delilah take it down?” Ruby closed her eyes and massaged her temples with her fingertips.

  Fran was silent for a moment. “Do you really want her to? Yes, it’s not ideal that she did it without asking, but it’s publicity that most artists would kill for.”

  “I’m not most artists.”

  “I know that.”

  “You’re not in my brain, Fran. I always told you I wanted to do this my way. At my pace. But you had to get involved, didn’t you?”

  “I asked her not to post it. This isn’t my doing.”

  “But you showed her the clip in the first place.”

  “Because you’re amazing. Because I’m proud of you. Because I’m your girlfriend.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “You know, I already did this with Delilah. With her, I wasn’t allowed to be me, to even exist. Now, you’re asking me to play you down, to not show everyone how brilliant you are? I can’t do it. I have to tell people how great you are. I didn’t tell Delilah because I wanted to cash in on your fame. I did it because Delilah and I are friends. She posted it because she was drunk. I’ll confront her, but she’s not answering her phone right now. She’s probably too hungover to talk.”

  Ruby’s stomach churned some more. What Fran was saying made sense. But then again, Ruby’s past label experience was like an open wound that had never quite healed. Could she trust Fran? Ruby couldn’t stop the gnawing feeling Fran had been planning this all along. “It’s not just a ploy to get me to sign with you? Has our whole relationship been about that? It’s what you wanted from the start, after all.”

  Silence on the other end.

  More bile travelled up Ruby’s throat. A neon red sign flashed in her mind.

  Oh, fuck.

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Ruby knew they were the wrong ones. Scrap that, they weren’t just the wrong words, the meaning behind them was wrong, full stop. However, the insinuation was out there, parading around, waving its arms. Ruby had just accused Fran of using her to further her career. Told her she didn’t trust her. How could she have said that? Accused Fran so blatantly? Ruby knew in her soul it was untrue.

  They’d got to know each other over the past few weeks and nothing Fran had done pointed to anything like that. Their connection was true. Their sex had been orgasmic. Fran wasn’t the person Ruby had first thought. Fran wasn’t out for herself. She was gorgeous and fearless. Everything Ruby wasn’t.

  If Ruby could take back that sentence, she would. But her insecurities had taken over and run riot. She’d never quite dealt with her past, and now it was trampling on her future, and she was powerless to stop it.

  “Fran—” Ruby began again. Even if it was too late, she had to try. Her brain was on fire as she spoke. She clutched her phone tight, desperation ripping through her.

  “You know what, fuck you.” Fran wasn’t about to mince her words.

  Ruby didn’t blame her.

  “How dare you say that to me. How fucking dare you! I seriously don’t have time for this. I’ve got artists getting shit thrown at them online for no reason other than they’re young and new. But at least Fast Forward are putting themselves out there, taking a chance. Unlike you. Have you ever taken a chance in your life? You did it once with a label, you got burned, and then you’ve run scared ever since. But you know what? Life is about taking chances, it’s about getting up when you’ve been knocked down and trying again. You’re not the first person to experience a setback, Ruby.

  “You need to get over yourself. Get out of your own way. Realise the talent you’ve got. Stop running back to Mistletoe and hiding. Because if you don’t, maybe you’re always going to be looking for someone else to blame as an excuse for you to do nothing.”

  Fran was right. Ruby knew it. Her hand shook as she tried to think of something to respond with. But she was scared of opening her mouth. Scared of saying the wrong thing again. The hole she’d started was deep enough, and she didn’t want to dig any further. Would Fran take her silence as not caring? Fuck. Ruby had to conjure a sentence. A word. A letter. Anything to stop this train wreck of a conversation from getting worse. She searched her brain, but drew a blank.

  Fran filled in the gap. “If you really don’t trust me – because that’s what this is – if you really think there’s some grand plan, maybe we’ll never work out. And you know what? That would be a crime because we’re good together. Da
mn good.” Fran sighed deeply. “I’m not out to get you, Ruby, and I honestly can’t fucking believe you would think that. We’ve shared so many moments. We had amazing sex and you still think that?”

  Fran raised her voice higher. “That’s the thing that really sticks in my throat. Did you really think I was fucking you and instead of enjoying the mind-blowing sex, I was wondering how to get you to sign with me? You’re unbelievable. I thought I knew you, but maybe I don’t. Maybe we’re not on the same page, just like you thought all along. Maybe you were right from the start.”

  Ruby hated every second of this call. Acid panic burned her throat. “I’m sorry Fran. I said the wrong thing—”

  “You’re damn right you said the wrong thing! Or maybe you said the right thing so that I can really see who you are before I jump into a relationship with you. All that stuff you said about me being what you needed, about us fitting together. Was that ever real?”

  “Yes, it was. You have to believe me!” Ruby’s stomach dropped and her mouth went dry. It was only days ago they’d laid in each other’s arms. In the stretched-out days since, Ruby had been longing to see Fran again. Now, she could see their whole relationship unravelling before it even started, and it was all down to her. Ruby and her big mouth, along with her past that she’d boxed up and backed away from.

  Fran had forced Ruby to confront her fears, and she’d been right to do so. Ruby had been hiding away for too long. But now, faced with taking it further, Ruby had lashed out and said completely the wrong thing. She knew it in her bones. She knew it in her heart. But she was pretty sure it would take a colossal effort to convince Fran of that.

  “Plus, you know what the real kicker of this is?” Fran was far from done, but Ruby had to take it. “You’re so hell-bent on doing everything yourself that you don’t realise a label could help you, take the weight off. The right label this time. People who get you. You can’t do it on your own. And even if you don’t want to sign with anyone, you could get some help anyway so that you’re freed up to take some chances. If you don’t, you’re never going to realise your full potential.”