‘I’ll leave the drink,’ she replied, and gave her husband a look that said he would be doing the same whether he liked it or not. She turned to Tristan, who beamed at her with his megawatt smile.
‘Welcome!’ he boomed. ‘It is always wonderful to see new faces at our church.’
‘Thank you.’ Mrs Dempsey gave the most genuine smile Spencer had seen on her since she arrived. ‘I’m looking forward to the evening.’
‘I am glad.’ He shook her hand, and then reached for Mr Dempsey to shake his. Then he turned to Tori and Spencer. ‘So, from the accent I must deduce that this is your lovely daughter and her boyfriend. Did you manage to warm up after being out in the snow earlier?’
Mrs Dempsey looked at them both sharply, and Spencer had the distinct feeling he was about to get his bottom spanked – and not in a kinky way. At the very least it would be bed with no supper.
‘We took a walk around here this morning,’ Tori said. ‘We had a few things to discuss.’
Tristan nodded and tapped a finger on the side of his nose. ‘Don’t forget to come and see me when you’ve decided.’
Mrs Dempsey now looked at Tori so intently that she might have been trying to extract from her daughter’s mind the contents of said discussion with the vicar through sheer willpower. But Tori simply smiled sweetly.
‘We will,’ she said.
Tristan treated them to one last incredible smile and then he turned his full beam onto Jenny and Lewis, who stopped for a short chat as Spencer went with the others to find a seat.
‘We’d better save a couple of seats for Mum and Dad,’ he said, not really convinced that it was the best idea for them to sit together but knowing he didn’t have a lot of choice.
‘What’s eating them?’ Tori whispered as Jasmine and Rich sat in the row of seats across the aisle, not speaking to each other and clearly not their usual selves.
‘They do that from time to time,’ Spencer said carefully.
Tori gave them another look, and then seemed to think better of pursuing the conversation. Instead, she turned to her parents. ‘Isn’t it just the most adorable place?’ she asked, glancing around at the stone pillars, lanterns throwing flickering shadows across the intricate figures and patterns carved into them, the stained glass windows dulled by the night sky but no less beautiful, and the tiny choir of village children (and some borrowed from neighbouring parishes to make up the numbers) ready and waiting in their crisp white robes, their faces expectant. The scene was lifted straight from a Christmas card, and if people hadn’t been feeling festive before, even the most hardened humbug couldn’t fail to get in the mood being here.
‘It’s cold,’ Mrs Dempsey said. ‘Don’t they have heating in England?’
‘It’s a huge stone building, Mom. The doors are still open too. It’ll be better when we get started.’
‘And the roof has never been without holes since I was a boy,’ Spencer put in amiably. ‘So it’s bound to lose a lot of heat.’
Mrs Dempsey didn’t smile or laugh or even acknowledge the joke. She just rubbed her hands together and eyed up the rest of the congregation.
‘It must be real old,’ Mr Dempsey said.
‘I think you said it was Norman, didn’t you?’ Tori turned to Spencer, who nodded.
‘Norman?’ Mr Dempsey said. ‘What’s that, about two hundred years?’
Tori giggled. ‘Daddy! You’re not great on English history, are you? But if we’re going to be part of an English family then maybe we all ought to learn some.’
‘I know about the Constitution and the Bill of Rights and that’s all I need to know,’ he smiled. ‘But if your Spencer wants to give us a little history lesson later I’ll be all ears.’
Spencer smiled broadly. It was the first real encouragement he’d had from either of the Dempseys. Maybe he was making more headway than he thought. Though when he looked across at Tori’s mother again he wasn’t quite so sure of that after all. She looked as though a history lesson from him was the last thing she wanted, unless it ended with a real-life demonstration of the guillotine with him as the victim.
‘I’d be happy to,’ he said. ‘I’m no authority but I know a little. Maybe, before you go home, I could take you for a drive – see some sights? Stonehenge isn’t too far away and that’s always impressive.’
‘That sounds great.’ Mr Dempsey leaned across to his wife and touched her on the arm. ‘Wouldn’t that be great, honey?’
‘Yes,’ she replied stiffly, although Spencer suspected that she’d rather boil her own head than go out sightseeing with him. But at least it was progress of sorts and he’d take it where he could.
Lewis and Jenny made their way down the aisle, and Spencer waved them over to the seat he had saved next to him.
‘Tristan is lovely,’ Jenny said looking quite star-struck. ‘I might have been tempted to find God if he’d been holding up the signpost.’
Tori laughed. ‘You’re so funny.’
Lewis patted Jenny’s hand. ‘You’re far too sensible to find God.’
‘What does that mean?’ Mrs Dempsey asked sharply.
Spencer sensed the sea change in the atmosphere, and suddenly, the church wasn’t the only thing that was cold.
Lewis waved a careless hand. ‘Don’t pay any attention to me,’ he laughed. ‘I’m a grizzled old scientist and it’s hard to fit the notion of an omnipotent, omnipresent being in with scientific theories. I’m sure it works out just fine for people who want to believe, but for me… well, I find it difficult to swallow.’
‘But you’re here now,’ Mrs Dempsey replied, ‘in the house of the Lord.’
‘We’re here now because it’s a village tradition which we happen to enjoy. It’s a way of being closer to the community as a whole, at least once a year – or a lot longer for us as we haven’t been back in a while…’ He glanced at Spencer. ‘And we’re also here for our son, who asked us to come.’
‘And look – we’re almost ready to begin I think!’ Spencer said with forced brightness, desperately trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters.
Tori gripped his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He returned it with a helpless look. They had already arranged to take the parents out to a Chinese restaurant on the Winchester road later that evening in the hope that a relaxed atmosphere and good food would get them talking in a friendlier way, but if things were strained this early in the night, it was going to be a tough few hours. It was almost as if they were all actively putting up barriers so that they didn’t get along, even if they did have some common ground, which Spencer reasoned must exist somewhere. After all, they were four well-educated westerners whose children happened to be engaged to one another – if they couldn’t find anything in common from all that then the venture was truly doomed. It was beginning to irk him somewhat that none of them seemed interested in trying. The Dempseys were downright frosty, despite Tori having made it clear that she would be marrying Spencer and not Hunter bloody Ford, but his own parents – jovial and bohemian as they appeared to be – were doing a pretty good job of rubbing Tori’s up the wrong way, and even they couldn’t be so obtuse not to realise when to air their opinions and when to keep them close for the sake of a little harmony. At some point he was going to have to take his mum and dad aside and have a good talk to them, and Tori would have to do the same with her parents; it was the only solution if things didn’t improve. But that was going to be very difficult with Christmas Day just around the corner, and with all the distractions that day would bring, and he had a horrible feeling things might blow up before then.
Tristan made his way to the front of the congregation, his joyous expression never faltering, as if simply breathing made him deliriously happy. It probably did, Spencer thought, because he didn’t have two warring sets of parents at his side and very likely would be going home to his snug little vicarage at the end of the night to sit with his lovely wife, a hot toddy and perhaps a cute dog or two. And Christm
as was the time when he was more popular than he would be all year. Christmas Eve for him was probably like the last day of term for Spencer when everyone – kids and teachers alike – shared excited anticipation for the summer break to come.
He said a few words of welcome and smiled directly at Jenny in a way that made her as flustered as Spencer had ever seen her – flicking her hair back and almost panting. It was oddly disconcerting to see one’s mother flirt with a vicar in such an obvious way, and Spencer was wishing he could switch some sort of filter on in his brain so it wouldn’t appear quite so obvious to him. He glanced at his dad. If Lewis was worried he certainly didn’t show it, watching proceedings with a mildly entertained expression. In fact, he seemed almost as much in awe of the charismatic new vicar as his wife was, only without the hair flicking and drooling. And then everyone stood, and the church echoed with the voices of choir and congregation alike in a heartfelt rendition of ‘Away in a Manger’.
Tori’s hand remained clasped in Spencer’s, and as the music filled him, he could feel it lifting his mood. He looked down at her and smiled. If they stuck together, they could weather any storm, he was sure. He just needed to know that she was willing to go the distance too, no matter what came their way.
Oscar was finally dozing in Darcie’s arms. Millie had been reluctant to leave them at first, and though Darcie had insisted she was capable, it had taken Dylan’s persuasion to make Millie agree to go to the carol service without her baby. Oscar had been cranky for a while, but Darcie had found she had surprising patience with him and his crying didn’t bother her as much as usual. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t her child that she could stay detached enough not to get stressed by it. Whatever the reason, she had fed him with the milk Millie had left and walked the floor of the bedroom with him until his eyes had started to droop.
She laid him in his cot as carefully as she could and covered him with his fleece blanket. After switching the baby monitor on she tiptoed downstairs to look for her phone.
There was already a text from Nathan. She had messaged him as soon as Dylan and Millie had left to say that she was willing to give things another go, and it hadn’t taken him long to reply.
‘I’m glad. I won’t mess up again, promise.’
‘We could meet after Christmas.’
‘Great. I know a good pub.’
‘No pubs. Somewhere quiet?’
‘Ok. You like Thai food?’
‘Never had it.’
‘You’re in for a treat then!’
Darcie smiled at the phone. Maybe she could give him a quick call while Oscar was quiet and while she had the place to herself. She was an adult, and she could call or see whoever she liked, but she still felt strangely guilty about the idea that she had ignored Dylan’s warnings over Nathan. She was about to dial the number when there was a crash from outside. Darcie’s head flicked up, and she ran to the front window of the café to investigate.
The street outside was blanketed in fresh snow, the streetlights giving it a strange orange glow, but it was deserted. Most of the village was at the church for the service, though Darcie hadn’t fancied it and had been only too happy to use Oscar as an excuse to stay home. Despite her months at the bakery, she still didn’t really feel a part of Honeybourne; she didn’t fit in the way Millie now did. She wondered if she was just too shy to make friends, not that the pool of prospective friends her own age was very big anyway in such a small village, and without that it would always be hard to make the leap from outsider to someone who was accepted as part of the community.
Still perturbed and more than a little rattled by the noise, she went through to the back of the building. The tiny yard was swathed in velvet blackness and when she pressed her face to the glass to get a better look she still couldn’t see anything but the faint outline of the metal bins. She could unlock the door and go out, but Oscar was asleep upstairs and she was home alone; the idea of going out to investigate when there was no help or protection in the house was not an appealing one. Maybe it was a fox or some other curious scavenger, but if it was something else, Darcie wouldn’t be able to do much to fend it off. Perhaps the best policy was to stay in and mention it to Dylan when he got home.
But then she heard another noise – something bumping against the back door – and this time she was gripped by panic. Her thoughts went to Oscar. If anyone got in, if anything happened to Millie’s baby, she would never forgive herself. Shaking, she raced back to where she had left her phone and dialled Dylan’s number. It went straight to voicemail. He must have turned it off for church. Next she dialled Millie’s number, certain that Millie would never switch hers off when she might be needed for Oscar, but although it rang out for a while, Millie didn’t pick up.
Darcie went through to the back door again and leaned her ear against it, listening hard. All was silent now, but she felt certain, in a way she couldn’t explain, that someone was out there. It was cold and it was Christmas Eve. Would a burglar be out on a night like this? Didn’t burglars have nights off at Christmas too? And why would they be snooping around so early in the evening? Unless… Unless they thought everyone would be at the carol service…
And then the thought struck her. Nathan knew where she lived – maybe he had hopped on a bus hoping to surprise her? She unlocked her phone.
‘This might sound silly, but are you here?’
‘Weird. Why do you ask?’
‘No reason. Just asking.’
‘No, stuck at home with the parents. Wrapping a mountain of presents. Do you want me to be there?’
‘Better not, I’m babysitting and my cousin will be back soon.’
‘With her huge scary boyfriend?’
‘Dylan? Is he scary?’
‘He is if you’re me.’
Darcie couldn’t help but smile. She supposed Dylan had come over a bit heavy earlier that day, but she knew why and that made her smile a little wider still.
‘I’ll call you on Boxing Day. Maybe we can meet up. Happy Christmas.’
‘Great! Back at ya!’
Darcie locked her phone. So Nathan wasn’t lurking outside. Perhaps she was overreacting. It sounded quiet enough now, and there were a lot of foxes around these parts, probably finding it hard to track food because it was so cold and snowy. Though she was pretty sure that Dylan had taken all the rubbish to a nearby tip in anticipation of the bins being filled to the brim again over Christmas, so she wasn’t sure what a poor hungry fox would find out there. She wasn’t about to open the door to find out, and she had just decided to switch the lights out and ignore whatever was out there in the hope it would go away when a face appeared at the window.
Chapter 9
‘Spencer!’ Millie called as he and Tori left the church. ‘Wait a second!’
Spencer turned and smiled. ‘I wasn’t going to go without saying Merry Christmas.’
Millie followed him out of the doors, Dylan close behind. ‘I know, I just wanted to ask you something. About Christmas lunch tomorrow.’
‘I’d invite you but…’ He lowered his voice with a grin. ‘My mum’s cooking is terrible and we can’t tell her that so we’re going to have to eat it anyway. I wouldn’t subject you to that.’
‘Don’t be daft!’ Millie laughed. ‘I was actually going to invite you to ours. Ruth is coming, and I don’t think Darcie is all that happy, so I figured lots of people around the table will help distract her. We’ll have tons of room as we’re going to push some of the tables together in the café and eat there. It might take some of the pressure off you and Tori too – I presume you’re having both sets of parents over to yours? I mean, you can say no, of course, but it was just a suggestion that I thought of earlier… I couldn’t help overhearing that they weren’t exactly getting on like a house on fire.’
‘You could say that,’ Spencer replied. ‘It’s lovely of you to offer but isn’t it a bit late to get more supplies?’
‘We’ve got tons. Dylan bought a turkey at the sa
me time as I did without either of us realising the other was getting it! And I expect you’ve got extra you could bring over in the morning? Please say yes – I think Darcie would really like to have a few more people around; I think she gets fed up sometimes with just me and Dylan.’
‘Surely she can’t get fed up with having me around,’ Dylan said with a wide grin. ‘I mean, is that a thing you have to take tablets for or something?’
Spencer put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I can imagine how that’s a difficult concept to grasp, mate. It must be so hard being awesome day and night.’
Dylan shook his head dramatically. ‘Nobody can know my pain…’
Millie nudged him. ‘Don’t encourage him, Spencer, he’s bad enough as it is.’
Spencer looked at Tori. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think it sounds like a great idea. We can spend Christmas morning together, and if Millie and Dylan are ok with it, we can go over to their place in the afternoon. I think my parents really enjoyed their time at the bakery and I’m sure they’d love to be your guests for dinner.’
Christmas at the Little Village Bakery Page 19
