‘What you did was…’ He sighed, pulling a face as he thought, the skin crinkling beside the corners of his eyes. ‘Kind. It surprised me. I’m not used to people doing things without expecting anything in return. It threw me and I hurt you – and hurting people is the complete opposite of what I’ve been trying to do for the last three years. But the decorations brought back memories I wasn’t ready to deal with. Things I’ve been trying to avoid.’ A woman with a huge stomach waddled past them and gave Tom a curious look. He coloured and turned his head away from her.
Meg rested a hand on her hip. ‘What happened – did Santa bring you a Barbie instead of an Action Man and scar you for life?’ The joke fell flat but she was angry, more upset than she’d expected, and it had made her hit out. ‘I didn’t mean that.’ She sighed, gripping her hands into tight fists, making herself smile at him. ‘I’m sorry.’
He shook his head, dismissing her apology. ‘Not necessary, and that’s not why. If you come to my house for dinner this evening, I’ll explain. I want to explain.’
Meg took a step away from him. She was tempted, but knew now it would be a mistake. ‘I’m sorry too, Tom, but I think we’re done. I appreciate the apology, but I’ve known all along this wasn’t going to work. We’re just too different… and I’m not prepared to take this any further.’
‘Because I like cheese and you like mince pies – or because I took down your decorations without explaining why?’ he asked, looking disappointed. ‘This isn’t about liking Christmas.’
‘It’s about being the same,’ Meg said. ‘Or about being so different we make each other unhappy.’
Tom shook his head. ‘You’re looking for excuses. We both know why.’ His eyes shot up when Meg’s mum appeared from the back. She was dressed in her puffy coat and a woolly hat and stood for a moment, looking into the shop, frowning. As she did, Cora appeared from the cafe with two pink baby booties dangling from her fingers. She approached the customer who’d stared at Tom earlier and beamed.
‘These will do for your new bub. I’ve got some at home for my oldest grandbaby. I hung them on my tree the first year she was born, and on every Christmas since. She’s fifteen now. I have the same for all my grandkids – even the one I barely see.’
Kitty’s face clouded, and even from here Meg could see her eyes fill. Then she marched from behind the counter and out of the shop with her head angled down.
‘I need to go,’ Meg mumbled, without looking at Tom. It was harder to walk away from him than she’d expected and she felt tears start in her own eyes as she did. But when she turned back as she reached the counter, he was gone.
‘I found those footprints I saw by the Promise Tree on Google,’ Emily said, holding her mobile skywards as they walked out of the shop ten minutes later. After Tom and her mother had left, Meg had dashed upstairs and pulled on boots and a coat, grabbing her sister as she headed outside. She hadn’t explained where they were going, unsure of how her mother would react. ‘I’m sure they’re from a reindeer,’ Emily continued, sounding excited. ‘You know, Meg, I’ve remembered while I’ve been staying here just how much I love animals. Mum’s so anti them, I’d given up any idea of getting close to one – but now I’m thinking about applying to do a different degree.’
‘Like what?’ Meg stopped outside the shop and glanced at her sister.
‘Perhaps veterinary medicine,’ Emily admitted. ‘I might need experience to get in.’
‘Wow.’ Meg smiled. ‘A vet. That would suit you.’
Emily beamed before her smiled dimmed a little. ‘It might be easier to get experience here.’ She looked around. ‘If I did, I might end up staying in Lockton for longer…’ She pulled a face.
‘That would be fine with me.’ Meg nodded. It would be great to have Emily around for longer. Although her mum might not agree. She looked up and down the high street. She hadn’t watched her mother leave, so had to guess which way to go. She wouldn’t normally follow her, but Kitty had looked so stricken. It had been a moment of pure honesty that Meg had rarely seen and she couldn’t ignore it. Besides, it was good to have something other than Tom to focus on and she had to keep busy. ‘Let’s head for the Promise Tree,’ she said.
‘Perfect!’ Emily sang, oblivious. The ground was thick with snow and there were drifts of sparkly white on either side of the pavement, so the going was slow. ‘The prints were beside the tree and under the bench which means it must be close. Do you get a lot of reindeer around here?’
‘There’s a herd somewhere in the Highlands, apparently. But I’ve never seen one in Lockton,’ Meg admitted. They passed Apple Cross Inn and Meg kept her eyes fixed firmly ahead, wondering if Tom was now serving at the bar. She’d have to avoid the pub, at least for a while, until her heart didn’t thunder in her chest and her eyes didn’t fill when she thought about him. She spotted her mother in another few steps, sitting on the bench facing the Promise Tree. Her shoulders were hunched and she was staring at the ground with her hands clasped firmly in her lap.
‘Mum?’ Meg said softly as they approached. Emily walked up to the tree with the phone in her hand and bent to peer at the ground. ‘Are you okay?’
Kitty looked up. Her eyes were glazed, her mouth set down. ‘Of course.’ But her tone was anything but.
‘What’s wrong?’ Meg sat on the bench beside her.
‘Nothing.’ Kitty shook her head.
‘Was it the pink bootie decorations?’ Meg pressed, frowning when her mother flinched. ‘Mum, isn’t it time you told me what’s going on? There’s something very wrong between you and Dad. Can we just stop ignoring it?’ She looked at the snow layered on the pavement, surprised by her own wish for honesty.
There was a pause, then Kitty let out a long exhale and nodded. ‘I lost her fifteen years ago…’ She looked down at the snow too. ‘I was only four months gone but we weren’t expecting to have another. She was a surprise. Another present, your dad said.’
Meg slumped in the seat, feeling her stomach turn over. ‘I didn’t know…’ she said, frowning.
‘You were only fifteen when it happened; Emily was three. We barely held it together, your dad and me.’ Her mother looked up suddenly, checking for Emily, who was still out of earshot. ‘It happened near to Christmas, but we were determined to make that one day okay… and after that, it was the only day we could be normal.’ She sighed. ‘It’s why Christmas is the way it is in our house.’
‘You never said.’ Meg gripped the bench, glancing over at her sister, but Emily was too far away to hear.
Kitty shook her head. ‘Your dad didn’t want to talk about it. It was the only way he could handle it. I needed to though, I felt so guilty. I slipped on some ice, and lost her because of the fall.’ She swallowed. ‘Just a silly accident. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Just one of those things. Although I’ve learned to be a lot more careful since. By the time your dad wanted to talk…’ She shrugged. ‘It was just too late. But it changed everything. We used to be so happy.’ She shook her head.
‘You were?’ The words came out shocked, even though they echoed almost exactly what her dad had told her. Emily glanced over, before crossing to the other side of the street so she could peer at the pavement. ‘But you’re so different,’ she said.
Her mother’s smile faded. ‘It’s funny how little children remember. All those moments of joy that somehow disappear into a black hole, all those memories that evaporate over time until they simply don’t exist. We were happy until then. Not perfect, but life was a lot more like Christmas. You didn’t know I was pregnant– no one did because we wanted to wait. But it left a mark in our marriage we never really dealt with.’ She lowered her head sadly. ‘It’s too late to do it now.’ Kitty looked up then, into Meg’s eyes. Hers were so blue. Meg had often thought they were cold, but there was nothing cold in them now. ‘If you find someone you care for, listen if they want to talk. Be honest in return – don’t run from what you want, or what hurts. Because the words you don’t
say can cause just as much pain as the ones you do. All those unsaid feelings and thoughts freeze in time, turn into silences that become impossible to ignore. They eat you up, twist you inside out, until there’s almost nothing left.’
‘But Dad wants to talk now,’ Meg said softly, swallowing.
Kitty nodded sadly. ‘He’s fifteen years too late, darling. I’m fifty next month. I want to move on. There’s nothing left for us to talk about.’ She stood suddenly, then patted Meg’s shoulder. ‘I’m sorry. For so many things. But it’s time for everything to change. I think you realised that before I did, when you made your Christmas Promise this year.’ Then she walked away, back down the high street towards the Christmas shop, leaving Meg staring after her, wondering what to do.
‘Here!’ Emily shrieked suddenly, making Meg jump. She had dropped to her haunches and jerked her head round to stare into a bush bordering the fields just a couple of metres down from the Promise Tree. ‘I can see something staring at me.’ Emily tried to push her arms into the greenery but ended up with a huge dollop of snow on her head. ‘It’s running away. I can see it now, it looks like a reindeer. I was right.’ She stood and leapt up a few times, trying to look over the hedge as Agnes and Fergus walked up the high street towards Meg.
‘Is the lass okay?’ Fergus asked, frowning at Emily as his dog Tag trotted up to join her on the other side of the road. ‘She looks like a right bampot with all that jumping in the air.’
‘She’s fine.’ Meg nodded.
‘She’s young, Fergus, remember when you were like that? Because I do.’ Agnes winked before turning to Meg. ‘I went into the shop earlier. Cora said you’d gone for a walk. I picked up your message.’ She grinned. ‘We’d love to have Blitzen for a stay. Tiki hates other birds, but she loves anything furry and she’s been hankering for some company these last few weeks. You can bring him over tomorrow, I’ll be home all afternoon.’ She linked an arm through Fergus’s and her eyes danced as she looked up.
Meg nodded, her eyes filling with tears as she looked away towards the Promise Tree. She’d almost had another sister; the whole thing felt surreal. All that pain, all that deceit colouring their lives, for every day since she could remember. Her whole life felt like it had just been turned upside down. Would it ever turn the right way up again?
Nineteen
Buttermead Farm was positioned a couple of miles outside Lockton, framed by a glorious mountain range. It was a sheep farm with a large area devoted to three yurts, which the Stuart family rented out during the summer months. Behind the yurts sat Bonnie Lochan, a clear blue lake, which provided the setting for a number of local legends dating back to the seventeenth century. Meg drove her Christmas van slowly down the single-track lane towards the farm, trying not to think about Tom. He’d been in her thoughts constantly since he’d left her shop the day before. After her conversation with her mum, she wondered if she should have given him a chance to explain.
‘Are you sure Blitzen will be okay?’ Emily sounded stressed. She sat in the passenger seat, glaring out of the window.
‘Agnes promised to take good care of him. Mum’s…’ Meg paused. She hadn’t confided in Emily, unsure if her mother would want her to. There seemed little point in sharing the tragedy now and she wasn’t quite ready to admit her parents’ marriage was over. ‘Mum’s a little fragile right now and I don’t want to upset her more.’ The flat had been quiet since her confession and Meg didn’t want to rock the boat. Her mum and dad still weren’t talking, but despite everything, she’d seen those tiny glimmers of love over the last week and a half when they’d been together, and still felt there might be hope. For them, at least.
Emily gripped the cage as they pulled into a parking space outside the farmhouse. It was a pretty building with a sloping roof and windows with flower boxes underneath. In the summer they were filled with vivid floral arrangements; today they were piled high with snow. Meg tramped to the door, but before she could knock it was opened, and Agnes was enveloping her and Emily in a hug. ‘Wonderful to see you, lasses. Is that our wee guest?’ She stood back so they could enter the large kitchen. It was a beautiful room, with a chandelier dominating the ceiling hanging over an oak table where Meg had spent many hours with Evie. Agnes had laid the table with a Christmas cake, mince pies and a pot of tea. ‘Make yourself at home, lassies.’ She took the cage and set it onto a dresser next to a huge Santa ornament so Blitzen could face into the kitchen.
‘Time for a snack!’ Tiki, her African grey parrot, squawked from the corner, ruffling her red tail feathers. She stood on the top of a metal cage and turned around a couple of times before eyeing the hamster.
‘Is Blitzen going to be safe?’ Emily chewed her bottom lip.
‘Aye, they’ll get on like a house on fire. Ignore the wee bird, she’s having you on.’ Agnes put ‘Waterfront’ by Simple Minds onto her mobile, and the parrot instantly relaxed.
Meg’s mind drifted to Tom as the tune filled the room. He hated Christmas music. He’d talked about his experiences at school, but beyond that he hadn’t explained anything about his life. He’d wanted to though – but she’d said no. Was that wrong?
‘Take a seat so you can enjoy some cake. I made it especially. There’s tea too, to warm you.’ Agnes pointed to the table and shook her head when she looked outside. ‘This weather’s getting worse and I’ve heard news of even more storms coming, so all those tales of better weather turned out to be false. Davey told me yesterday he’s worried about the concert going ahead, we’ve only another four days. The marquee’s going to be erected tomorrow and all the tickets are sold, but there’s talk of the airports closing if things get worse. I’m even worried about Evie and Callum making it back from America.’
Meg frowned as she pulled up a chair. ‘Who’ll play in the concert if the bands don’t make it? What about the fundraising?’ Everyone had worked so hard.
Agnes shrugged. ‘The whole thing will be off, lassie. We’ll lose the village hall if the roof doesn’t get fixed. But there’s not much we can do about the weather. We’ll just have to hope the predictions are wrong,’ she said, just as her son, Grant, came bursting in from outside.
‘Something’s been messing with the yurts.’ His ruddy cheeks glowed from the cold. ‘I checked and the snow’s all flattened around the doors. I thought it was Miss Daisy at first.’ The small pygmy goat spent most of her life glued to Evie when she was home. ‘But she’s settled in the barn – has been most of the day. It’s almost like something was trying to get inside one of them.’ He patted his coat, swiping the light dusting of snow from his shoulders. ‘I’m worried it’s the vandals.’
‘Show me.’ Agnes tugged on a set of bright red wellies. ‘Want to come?’ she asked Emily and Meg.
‘Sure.’ Meg saw her sister glance warily at the hamster cage.
‘He’ll be fine, lass,’ Agnes soothed. ‘Tiki won’t hurt Blitzen. Poor thing has been squawking at the angel on the top of our Christmas tree for the last two weeks, desperate to get a peep out of it. She craves company – she’s not going to eat it now it’s here.’ She pulled a knitted hat over her silver bob, adding a pink puffy coat as Emily and Meg got ready and followed them out.
You could get to the Buttermead Farm yurts via a gravel track which led from the farmhouse towards the lochan. The view was breathtaking, with rolling hills and mountains framing the farm on either side. Three yurts rose out of the horizon, surrounded by snow. They were made of white canvas with slatted wood criss-crossing the outside, leading up to a tented point which ended at a clear plastic window affording a generous view of the sky.
‘I’m going to check down here!’ Grant headed along the path towards the lochan as the women stopped so they could wander around the outside of the yurts. Meg spotted tiny prints immediately. They were everywhere, scattered away from the path. A flash of silver caught her eye in the snow by one of the fences and she went to investigate, digging into the icy powder, pulling something out and holding it
up. ‘It’s a bauble and there’s an “AC” painted on the front, just like the ones outside Apple Cross Inn.’
‘Aye, and me and your hot toddy found some had gone missing from the pub three days ago,’ Agnes said, as Meg’s stomach flipped. Would Tom haunt her conversations forever, just like Agnes’s ghosts?
She turned, spotting a streak of green, bending so she could tug a string of knitted bunting out of a drift. It was stiff with ice but Meg recognised it immediately. ‘That’s from the high street.’
‘Aye, I recognise those neat stitches. That’s Cora’s knitting. Means the dunderhead vandal must be hiding somewhere on the farm…’ Agnes twisted round, checking in every direction and craning her neck. ‘There!’ she yelled suddenly, marching to the left before ducking through a low hedge into the adjoining field.
Meg and Emily followed. ‘You think the vandal’s hiding on the farm?’ Emily asked, as Agnes bent to pick up a bright pink bauble from the snow. She waved it in the air, her eyes flashing green before she began to walk again.
‘I can’t see any signs that a person’s been walking up here.’ Meg scoured the snow. She sped up, stumbling over bumps and drifts until she caught up with Agnes. They were halfway across the field now, heading for a barn Meg knew was mostly empty in the winter.
‘I’ve an odd feeling we’ll find what we’re looking for over there.’ Agnes pointed to the wooden structure. ‘I told Marcus I had a sense something was watching me, and I got the strongest feeling around this field. If you’re afraid of spirits and spooks, you might want to go back to the kitchen.’ Meg and Emily shook their heads. ‘There are lots of legends – not one that refers to a kleptomaniac ghost, but we might be about to discover one exists.’ Her eyes sparkled and she turned to march in the direction of the barn. Even from here, Meg could see the wooden panelled door was ajar and there was a peppering of prints leading inside.
If Every Day Was Christmas: A gorgeous and heart-warming Christmas romance Page 15
