The air of the bakery was warm and filled with the scents of cinnamon, coffee and sugar. It was busier than Spencer had seen it since arriving home for the Christmas break, apart from Colleen’s emergency meeting. As they walked in, they passed a sandy-haired youth leaving, Dylan and Darcie watching him go and looking quite serious about it. Spencer led Tori to a table and went over to the counter to order.
‘What was all that about?’ he asked as Millie greeted him.
‘What?’
Spencer nodded his head at Dylan and Darcie, who were now deep in conversation. ‘They just watched a guy leave and Dylan looked like… well, it wasn’t a look I want to be on the receiving end of again.’
‘Oh, that!’ She lowered her voice. ‘That was the boy Darcie was meeting yesterday at the party. It didn’t go well.’
‘I heard that,’ Spencer said. ‘Jasmine called at the pub last night and said it had ended much earlier than expected.’
‘Yes. I don’t think she’s telling us everything, but she was pretty upset.’
‘So what did he want today?’
‘He came to see her I think. Wanted to explain.’
‘Wow, he’s brave. If Dylan was looking at me like that I’d have been straight out the door again.’
Millie leaned over the counter with a conspiratorial air. ‘Lucky for Darcie, Dylan wasn’t in here when he arrived. I wouldn’t have wanted to tackle him either. Poor Darcie will never get a boyfriend while she’s under this roof if he deals with them all like that. I think he’s considering the purchase of a shotgun for the next one.’
‘He’s just looking out for her,’ Spencer replied gently.
‘I know. And I love him for it. God knows she needs it.’
‘Maybe she’s tougher than you think.’
‘Maybe. But I worry about her. She doesn’t seem herself, but I know that even if she wants to go home, she feels guilty about leaving us to run this place. Not that there’s much more for her there. But I’ve told her that we’ll manage and she needs to do what’s best for her.’
‘Do you think she’ll go home?’
‘I don’t know. Dylan told her to wait it out until after Christmas and then see how she feels. She says she’ll do that, so I suppose time will tell.’ She straightened up again and waved across to Tori, who waved back as she peeled off her outside layers. ‘What can I get you lovebirds?’
‘Hot chocolates. It’s freezing out there and we need thawing out.’
Millie laughed as she turned away to prepare the drinks. ‘So you saw Jasmine at the pub last night?’ she called over her shoulder.
‘She came by later on, after she’d left you.’
‘On her own?’
‘Yes. I suppose Rich was with the kids.’
‘Hmm…’ Millie said as she poured some milk into a jug.
‘What does that mean?’
Mille turned to face him. ‘I think they’d had words again. I feel as if it’s my fault really.’
‘How can it be your fault?’
‘Well, it’s this baby business. Ever since Oscar arrived she’s been broody, and I don’t think Rich wants to play ball.’
‘I can’t say I blame him,’ Spencer said.
‘I don’t think it’s that he says no, I think it’s the absolute refusal to even discuss it that’s making her angry. You know how stubborn they can both be.’
Spencer gave a thin smile. He knew that only too well, and it had nearly cost him everything last time he got in the middle of it. ‘So what happened between them last night to get her so riled?’
Millie angled her head towards where Spencer had left Tori. ‘You can ask her yourself – she’s just sat down at your table with the kids.’
Spencer swung around and his stomach lurched. Considering the conversation he and Tori had had just an hour or so ago, Jasmine was probably the last person he wanted to see – which was a novel concept in itself. But he had just fixed things with Tori and Jasmine would only serve to remind her of all the things she was uncertain of in their relationship. If he was honest, it did the same to him too. When Jasmine was around, his feelings for Tori became clouded, and he couldn’t see the truth of them anymore.
‘Go over,’ Millie said. ‘I can bring your drinks when they’re done.’
‘Thanks.’
Spencer strode back to the table. Jasmine and all three of the triplets looked up at him with broad smiles.
‘Mr Johns!’ Rachel said. ‘Are you coming to the carols tonight?’
‘I think so,’ Spencer said, smiling, but his glance wandering to Tori, trying to gauge her mood.
‘Tori was just telling me you met the new vicar,’ Jasmine said.
‘He’s quite a cutie, isn’t he?’ said Tori.
‘Well, it’s not for me to notice these things,’ Spencer replied. ‘He does seem a bit eccentric.’
‘He’s lovely,’ Jasmine said. ‘Almost enough to make me want to get up for church on a Sunday.’
‘Steady on,’ Spencer laughed, but then stopped short, looking at Tori again. If the situation was bothering her, she didn’t show it. She simply smiled.
‘Hop off the chair, Reuben,’ Jasmine said, motioning towards her lap for her son to sit. ‘Let Spencer have a seat.’
Spencer sat down just in time for Millie to bring over their drinks.
‘Ooh…’ Reuben looked at them, and then at Jasmine, his face alight with expectation.
‘Sorry, pumpkin, we haven’t got time to stop for drinks today – we’ve got a lot to do to get ready for Santa.’
‘Do you want to take your order with you now?’ Millie asked Jasmine.
She nodded. ‘I’ll be over in a minute for it.’
Millie went off to get the food order ready while Jasmine turned back to Tori and Spencer. ‘What are you all doing after the carol service? I was thinking you might like to come to ours for drinks and nibbles.’
‘That sounds—’ Spencer began, but Tori cut him off.
‘My folks are still a little jet-lagged and they’ll probably be exhausted after that. It’s lovely of you to offer but I think we’ll probably have a quiet night.’
Spencer shot her a sideways glance. He wondered, exactly, where this quiet night was going to be. Christmas Eve was likely to be one of the pub’s busiest nights and if they had found the previous night too much they’d be having breakdowns by the end of tonight. Or was she assuming that her parents would be invited to stay at his house after all? There wasn’t enough room for all of them and he had made that clear before. Perhaps it was simply the idea of spending time with Jasmine that was worrying her, despite Spencer’s attempts at reassurance. It was obviously something they were going to have to discuss.
Jasmine smiled. ‘Not to worry. Maybe we’ll make another night before you all leave.’ She got up. ‘Come on, kids, let’s go and grab Uncle Dylan before we go, see if we can’t get a cuddle from Oscar.’ She turned back to Tori and Spencer. ‘See you later at the carol service.’
‘See you later,’ Tori returned. She looked at her mug, which was piled with whipped cream and marshmallows. ‘This looks amazing.’
‘Why did you tell her no?’ Spencer asked.
‘I didn’t think it was a very good idea. There’s enough friction in the air without adding theirs to it – you said yourself they’re not getting on.’
Spencer paused, waiting for Tori to add something about not wanting to spend time with Jasmine. But if she had a motive other than the one she had stated, she wasn’t sharing it. He wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.
‘I’m sure they wouldn’t have a blazing row with visitors there,’ he said. ‘They can show some restraint sometimes.’
‘Unlike your parents.’
Spencer frowned. ‘Really? Do we have to do this again?’
‘I’m sorry – you’re right. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Let’s just have an evening at your place, huh? Maybe get some food and talk?’
&nb
sp; ‘All of us? That’s asking for trouble.’
Tori reached for his hand. ‘We can do this. Let’s not freak out, ok?’
‘Ok,’ he said, suddenly struck by an idea, ‘how about we drive out somewhere a bit more neutral? A nice restaurant somewhere a bit posh?’
‘Just us or with the parents?’
‘Sadly with the parents. But it might be somewhere that suits everyone more than my house or the pub. And if we take our time over it, go somewhere with a classy bar as well, we might just stay away long enough to miss most of the action at the Dog and Hare.’
‘Action?’
‘Tori… I don’t know how to break this to you, but you’re in Britain and it’s Christmas Eve. It’s the season of goodwill to all men and huge drunken queues in Accident and Emergency.’
‘Oh. Ok then, let’s give it a shot. But I think my folks will want to do the carol thing first.’
‘Mine too. They never miss it when they’re home, though I have no idea why they go. I think it’s to taunt the vicar.’
‘I think they’ll have met their match in the new one.’
‘Mum will probably fall in love with him,’ Spencer grinned. ‘Before the night is out she might have been converted from staunch atheist to certified God-botherer.’
‘Shhh!’ Tori hissed. ‘Please don’t use that phrase in front of my parents!’
‘Oh hell, I’m sorry, I forgot. They’re God-botherers too, aren’t they?’
‘Stop it!’ Tori giggled.
‘I mean, I’ve got nothing against God, and He’s done a lot for me, especially finding me a hot American chick, I just don’t feel the need to bother Him on a weekly basis to ask for more stuff…’
‘Spencer!’
‘Ok, ok… no more jokes. I’ll be on my best behaviour, I swear.’
‘Good. Do you think Millie will mind me using her Wi-Fi? We can check on my phone for a restaurant that’s not too far away.’
‘Why don’t you go and ask her for the password?’ Spencer suggested. ‘I can’t imagine she’d mind at all.’
Tori kissed him briefly and then made her way to the counter. Spencer watched her go, thinking that if he could have punched himself in the face he would have. Why would he doubt what he had with her? She was an incredible woman and he was lucky to have her. He needed to stop being an idiot before he blew everything.
He looked around to see Jasmine smile and wave as she left the bakery with her brood in tow. Suddenly, with her gone, the air felt clearer again and his mood lighter. Secretly, he was glad Tori had answered for him when Jasmine had invited them over. Much as he loved Jasmine, it wasn’t a wise idea, but he would have found himself accepting the invitation against his better judgement. If he and Tori did decide to move to Honeybourne after they were married, the issue was one he was going to have to address and sort out once and for all, because he couldn’t go on like this.
As his gaze swept the room, it fell on Darcie and Dylan again. Dylan gave him a brief nod of recognition, and then went off to the back of the shop with a crying Oscar, while Darcie watched with an expression of yearning Spencer recognised only too well. It looked as though he wasn’t the only one fighting with his emotions right now. He felt a sudden pull to talk to her – maybe it would help. But even if he could get her alone, how do you start a conversation like that? It looked as though, for now, she was going to have to work things out for herself, just like he was doing. He only hoped she was doing a better job than he was.
Darcie watched Dylan go through to the back room with Oscar. Then she looked across to the counter to see that Millie had gone over to talk to her friend, Spencer, while Ruth Evans dithered at the entrance before turning and heading back to the counter.
‘I’ll get some pork pies if you have any left,’ she said as Darcie painted on a smile for her.
‘How many do you want?’
‘Two should do it. I won’t need much food if I’m not eating at home tomorrow.’
‘Oh,’ Darcie said as she bagged them up, doing her best to feign interest though she couldn’t have cared less about the reasons Ruth wasn’t eating at home. She had to be civil, of course, because Ruth was a customer and for some strange reason Millie had a real soft spot for the old lady. As far as Darcie could tell she was an annoying busybody who drove everyone insane, but Millie always made time for her. Which was probably why Ruth insisted on hanging around the bakery like a gnat around a tree.
‘Hasn’t Millie told you?’ Ruth asked as she placed the pies on top of her shopping bag.
‘Told me what?’
‘She’s invited me to have Christmas dinner here tomorrow.’
Darcie looked up sharply from the till. ‘Here?’
‘So I’ll be seeing you tomorrow,’ Ruth said, oblivious to Darcie’s sudden change of tone. ‘Unless I see you before at the carol service.’ Without waiting for a reply, she tottered out of the shop.
Darcie looked across at Millie again, who was sitting laughing with Spencer and his girlfriend. She had hoped that she could have a nice quiet Christmas Day, most of it doing as she pleased in her own little wing of the building, perhaps only popping up for lunch and a bit of telly later. But now she would be expected to endure Ruth’s endless digging for information about her life and gossip about everyone else’s. Not really her idea of a happy Christmas, but then it wasn’t shaping up to be one of those anyway. She checked her watch; closing time was fast approaching and they didn’t look close to closing at all. At this rate they wouldn’t make it to the carol service, but perhaps that was a small mercy if Ruth was going to be there.
During a brief lull in customers, Darcie dashed out back to find her handbag and fished out her phone. There was one missed call – an unlabelled mobile phone number. It had to be Nathan, and she quickly stored the contact. She stared at it. She could call now, maybe fix something up with him for the next few days. It would get her out, away from temptation, and she would probably have a good time if it was just the two of them, with no crazy ex or wild parties in the mix. She was about to dial it when Dylan’s voice came from behind her.
‘I’ve just got Oscar down. Little bugger was desperate for a sleep but he wouldn’t drop off. Anyway, have you had a break yet?’
Darcie whizzed around to face him, her cheeks burning.
‘What’s the matter?’ Dylan asked, and then he saw the phone in her hand, Nathan’s name in bright letters on the screen. ‘Oh, Darcie, please tell me you’re not going to call him.’
‘I was… I was just thinking I might.’
‘What for?’
She shrugged. ‘I like him. And I think he meant what he said today.’
‘He might have thought he meant it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t break your heart further down the line.’
Darcie was silent for a moment, and then she locked her phone and put it away.
‘Listen,’ Dylan said, ‘I can’t tell you what to do and I don’t want to. If you want to see him then of course you should and it’s nothing to do with me but… well, I think of you like a little sister, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.’
There it was again – the way he saw her was nothing like the way she looked at him. A little sister. He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d plunged a bread knife into her chest, and he didn’t have a clue he was doing it.
‘I know,’ she said quietly. ‘And I’ll be careful.’
Dylan patted her arm. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve come over all dad on you.’
‘It’s ok.’
‘So…’ He tilted his head in the direction of the café. ‘Are we going to see about kicking some of these reprobates out so we can close? It is Christmas Eve, after all, and I’ve got presents I still haven’t wrapped.’
Chapter 8
The trees of the churchyard were strung with lights, twinkling fireflies dancing on their bare branches and piercing the gloom. The rich tones of the organ rang out through the frosty night, calling the people of Honeybourne in
to celebrate that Christmas had finally arrived. Spencer and Tori picked their way along the snowy path hand in hand, noses frozen and cheeks rosy with the cold. Lewis and Jenny walked ahead in matching Santa hats while the Dempseys brought up the rear looking about as festive as an undertakers’ convention. Ruth walked alongside them, trying her best to engage them in a conversation they clearly weren’t interested in having, while Jasmine and Rich followed with their triplets; Rich scowling like a sulking toddler over something but Jasmine unconcerned and chatting to Millie and Dylan who had left baby Oscar at home, not wanting to expose him to the biting cold or, indeed, the congregation to his mighty lungs. There was nothing more contrary to the sentiment of ‘Silent Night’ than the cries of a colicky baby, and once he got started, it was quite possible that nobody would be able to hear it anyway.
At the doors to the church, where the light from within spilled out over the steps, Frank Stephenson was handing out plastic cups filled with mulled wine – a particularly potent recipe to rival his infamous scrumpy – and hot Ribena for the kids, while Tristan the vicar greeted everyone with tones warm enough to melt the snow and a smile on his face bright enough to rival the lights strung across the ancient trees.
Mrs Dempsey grimaced as Frank tried to give her a cup of his brew.
‘It’s mulled wine,’ Spencer said, ‘kind of a Christmas tradition at the service – everyone gets a glass to warm the vocal cords up.’
Mrs Dempsey sniffed at it and her top lip curled up like a dog trying to eat a toffee. Spencer glanced at Tori and she gave a tiny shrug.
‘Is it alcohol?’ Mrs Dempsey asked.
‘The clue is kinda in the name,’ Tori laughed.
Tori’s mother handed the cup back to Frank, who looked so shocked by the action that someone could have prodded him and he’d have fallen backwards.
‘We don’t drink,’ she said, and Frank’s eyes – if it were possible – grew even wider.
‘How about some of the Ribena?’ Spencer asked. ‘Blackcurrant juice,’ he added at her questioning frown. He could have added that it was what all the children were drinking but he wondered whether that might sound a bit patronising, although he was tempted, if only to make it clear that he thought she was making quite a lot of fuss over nothing. The whole village was trying hard to welcome this couple, and everywhere they went they did nothing to return it. Apart from with Millie, who seemed to be inexplicably golden in their eyes. Spencer made a note to ask her later for some of whatever secret potion she had slipped either them or herself to make that happen, because he didn’t see how else she’d pulled it off.
Christmas at the Little Village Bakery Page 18
