‘Our surprise act for this evening is Tom Riley-Clark!’ Davey’s announcement was followed by loud whoops, and a few dozen people in the crowd who’d obviously heard of him stood and clapped enthusiastically as he approached the stage. A few whipped out their mobiles and took photos, surprise filling their faces, and Tom gulped back his desire to hide. ‘I want to thank Tom for agreeing to step in last minute when the scheduled acts couldn’t make it due to the weather. Many of you will know him as the man behind the bar in Apple Cross Inn, or the person to call in an emergency if something needs fixing. What you may not know is that Tom’s a talented songwriter and guitarist – or that he was the lead singer of The Ballad Club.’ A roar of approval erupted from the audience and Tom bounced onto the stage to join Davey. ‘In fact, he penned “If Every Day Was Christmas”, which is even now working its way up the charts.’ The crowd hooted again and Tom stood, looking down, letting his eyes roll over the front row to where Meg was staring up at him.
He hadn’t seen her for three days now, had been avoiding running into her by living between the marquee and his house. But just one look and his heart seemed to expand. She was clapping like the others, but she wasn’t smiling and her face looked drawn. She wore a black dress which hugged her curves in all the right places but somehow looked wrong – he was so used to the sexy elf outfits now. Glitter decorated her cheeks and her hair hung around her face in golden waves; she looked beautiful and sad. He tossed his head, lifting his face up to the lights as he hooked the Gibson around his shoulder and let his fingers run over the smooth wood. The feeling was so familiar it was like coming home, and he wondered, not for the first time in the last few days, how he’d ever been able to give it up. Or what would have happened if Meg hadn’t come along and encouraged him. Then he closed his eyes and let his fingers run across the strings as the audience began to clap…
Tom made his way down from the stage an hour later to a roar of applause. His shirt clung to his back and his hands were aching, but there was a new lightness to his step.
‘You were brilliant, mate,’ Davey said, taking the guitar from his hands and pressing a bottle of cold water into them. ‘You had everyone in the palm of your hand. I’d almost forgotten how good you are with a crowd.’ He patted him on the back and pointed to the exit.
‘It was… more fun than I remembered. I guess I was more relaxed. Perhaps because I knew so many of the faces,’ Tom admitted, taking a swig of the cool water. ‘And I didn’t lose myself once.’ Every time he’d found himself getting lost in the music, he’d looked down and seen Meg staring up, like an anchor in a sea of waves. He just didn’t know what that meant.
‘I promised to get you straight out of the crowd,’ Davey said, leading the way towards the edge of the marquee just as Morag blocked their path.
She smiled, her face almost cracking with the effort, and Tom’s heart thumped, searching for the change in her eyes. ‘I still hate that Christmas song,’ she grunted, frowning. ‘The whole thing sets my teeth on edge.’ She bared them as if that would prove it. ‘But the rest of tonight was all right. At least, it was a lot less painful than I expected. Johnny’s still calculating, but we think we’ve raised more money than we need for the village hall roof thanks to you – plus I’ve a whole new topic to gossip about once my Christmas Promise is done.’
‘Okay,’ Tom said, smiling despite himself. ‘I guess that’s good.’
She shrugged, frowning a little. ‘The gate at my house that you fixed is holding up, but the fence beside it has begun to lean a little. I wondered if you’d come to mend it, laddie, bring Cooper with you again? I got more biscuits. I’m planning to adopt a wee dog in the new year. Perhaps they’ll be friends?’
‘I… I’m leaving tonight. I’m sorry, Morag,’ Tom said, his heart pitching a little. ‘But I heard the weather’s due to ease soon, so I’m sure someone else will be able to come.’
‘Aye.’ Morag nodded but didn’t smile. ‘I guessed as much.’ She shrugged. ‘If you change your mind though, lad, you know where I am – and don’t forget to bring the dog.’ She leaned onto her cane and spun around before walking away, passing Cora and Marcus as she headed towards the pub.
‘That was amazing,’ Cora gasped, her eyes lighting up as Marcus nodded along. ‘I love your songs. I’ve been a fan of The Ballad Club for a few years. I had no idea…’
‘Aye, she’s a fan all right. Even has a few of your albums. I can’t believe I never realised it was you. Seems to me I need to pay a lot more attention from now on. I didn’t even spot Cora making doughnuts in my own house until she put one in front of me.’ Marcus looked baffled.
‘But now you like jam?’ Cora said in a sing-song voice, and Marcus grinned just as Agnes and Fergus came up to join them. Tom looked behind them, his eyes seeking out Meg, but her seat was empty, as were Emily’s and her parents’ – which meant she’d obviously already left. It was probably for the best. He knew for his own sanity he had to walk away. There was no reason to make it any harder.
‘Have you played any Simple Minds?’ Agnes asked, stepping in front of him too. ‘Because if you ever have a hankering to give one of their songs a try, I’ve a parrot at Buttermead Farm who’d appreciate hearing it.’
Tom nodded sadly. ‘Thank you for the offer, but I’m retiring after tonight and I’ll be leaving Lockton in a few hours.’
Agnes gave him a strange look. ‘You’d better watch out if you’re driving. You never know what you might run into. I’ll see you again soon, laddie,’ she said, squeezing his shoulder before following Fergus as he trailed Morag towards the bar.
Tom let out a long breath and followed Davey into the small section at the edge of the marquee which had been screened off, before anyone else managed to corner him. He grabbed his coat and tugged it on, suddenly keen to get away.
‘You’re really leaving?’ Davey asked, looking surprised.
Tom nodded.
‘But no one’s going to treat you any differently.’ He bobbed his head in the direction of the flap behind them where the crowd were still chatting. ‘I think we just saw proof of that. You could leave tomorrow. There are Christmas carols around the Promise Tree at midnight. You could at least come to that? Say goodbye properly,’ Davey said.
‘I think it would be better if I went now,’ Tom insisted.
Davey sighed. ‘You fit here, Tom. You’ve been happier than I’ve ever seen you. I didn’t spot one person out in that crowd who’s going to treat you differently after this. You’re still the man who can. Nothing’s going to change that. So a few journalists might come up to see if they can get an interview, but they’ll soon lose interest. My house is yours for as long as you want it. Or there are a couple of similar ones I know of for sale a little further up the road. Why not stay?’
‘I’ve got to leave.’ Tom picked up his backpack, blocking out the nagging voice telling him he was mad as Davey tried to hand him the guitar. ‘It’s not mine.’ He pushed it away.
‘You ought to hang on to it.’ Davey handed it back. ‘Seems to me a talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted, no matter where you decide to take it next.’
Tom exhaled but took the guitar and nodded, before he shook hands with his friend and headed for the car park without looking back.
Meg was standing by Tom’s car. He could see her in the distance as he crossed the snow, and his feet faltered as he approached. She wore a thick coat and woolly hat with long, sexy boots which stretched right up to her knees. The glitter on her cheeks sparkled despite the darkness, and snow was falling around her in thick masses. She didn’t say anything until he was facing her. He could see her teeth were chattering so he unlocked the car and motioned for her to climb inside. His heart thumped as he put the guitar into the boot and took a deep breath. Then he got into the driver’s seat and switched on the heater. They sat for a moment, staring at the windscreen in silence as the wipers swiped the deep pile of snow off the glass and more splattered in its place.
> ‘I came to ask you to stay,’ Meg said quietly, still staring forwards. ‘I heard you were leaving tonight. I know you think I lied…’
‘Davey told me you didn’t.’ Tom’s voice was husky and he wondered if it was from the singing. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Call it a kneejerk reaction, or call me an idiot. You’d be right.’
She let out a long sigh. ‘Was it because of your wife?’
Tom nodded, surprised.
‘Davey explained.’ She swallowed. ‘And I’m sorry. I’ve been getting a lot of advice over the last few weeks. I’ve been told to trust in differences, to stop worrying if we don’t completely fit, to forgive.’ Tom started to say something but she wagged a finger. ‘Please let me finish. My parents’ marriage taught me all kinds of lessons – many of them wrong, it turns out. I’ve been hiding for a long time now, trying not to make the same mistakes. And yet in some ways I’ve made them anyway. Perhaps they were different ones, but they were still mistakes.’ She turned to face him. ‘I wanted to escape into Christmas. For every day to be perfect. For the man I fell in love with to be perfect too. But there’s no such thing, is there?’ She stared at him. ‘You rarely smile, you hate Christmas and you won’t make promises.’ Her lip wobbled as she tried to smile. ‘But none of that matters. I’ve spent too many years focusing on all the wrong things. Looking for someone that didn’t exist. Because I was afraid. Terrified of being hurt. But it happened anyway. I… have feelings for you.’ Tom saw her frown even though her face was in shadows. ‘Strong feelings, and I think…’ She swallowed. ‘I think you have feelings for me too.’
Tom didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. But there was a pain circulating in his chest. A bubble of need rising which he refused to acknowledge.
‘I’m just asking you to give this’ – she waggled a finger between them – ‘a chance.’
Tom swallowed as his mind filled with his mum, Marnie and his grandmother. All those memories. He didn’t deserve Meg. He couldn’t do it. ‘I’m sorry.’ His voice dropped. ‘I’m so sorry, but I can’t.’
The roads out of Lockton were treacherous. Cooper whimpered in the back seat and pressed his nose to the glass, staring into the fields. After Meg had blinked back tears, then jumped out of Tom’s car and headed for the pub, he’d driven straight to Davey’s house and packed. He couldn’t stay in Scotland for another minute. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself from heading back to Apple Cross Inn to tell Meg he was an idiot and cared for her too.
But he wasn’t an idiot. What he was doing was right. He had his music back, but he couldn’t risk his heart. Couldn’t risk letting someone else down that he cared about.
His car jolted over a drift, and the empty bauble Tom had flung onto the passenger seat as he’d left the house – because he couldn’t face leaving it – wobbled and almost fell onto the floor. He pressed his foot on the brake, slowing to a crawl. He passed fences of baubles and knitted decorations and forced himself to shift his eyes to the front, just as his mobile went off and Cooper began to bark.
‘I know,’ Tom said. ‘It’s a miracle.’
‘Sonny.’ Jack’s voice filled the car. ‘I’ve called so we can make our toast. I know it’s early here, but I wanted to catch you before midnight.’
Tom swallowed and glanced at the clock. It was half eleven. ‘I’m sorry, I was going to call when I got to Morridon.’
‘You’re driving?’ Jack sighed. ‘On Christmas Eve?’
‘I’m heading for my next adventure. I played a concert tonight,’ he confessed, beaming when he remembered how it had felt. How all those feelings had poured out of him. It was as if he’d found his voice. Now lyrics were forming, the words effervescing in his mind. And this time he wasn’t pushing them back.
‘You’re going back to the business?’ Jack asked, sounding surprised.
‘Nope.’ Tom shook his head. ‘I’ll never do that. But I’m going to write songs again and play the guitar.’
‘Did your grandmother send you a sign?’ His grandfather sounded hopeful.
‘Nope.’ Not unless the sign had been Meg.
‘Maybe she’s waiting until you need to learn something else?’ There was a shout in the background. ‘I’ve got to go. That boy’s going to sing… I’m raising my coffee now, Tom, to your grandmother, the love of my life – and to you, my grandson, a man I couldn’t be prouder of. I’m glad you’re finding your way back. All you need now is a woman who deserves you – someone to put the sparkle back into your eyes.’
Tom cleared his throat as emotion threatened to choke him. ‘I’ll be raising a glass to you and Grandma later too – and I’ll be coming to see you as soon as you’re home.’
He hung up, feeling empty. The snow was falling more heavily and he had to slow the car again as large round flakes hit the windscreen, obscuring almost everything in the distance. He couldn’t see more than a few metres ahead and even that was hard to make out. He pushed his foot onto the brake as a series of random shapes seemed to materialise in the middle of the road.
‘What the—?’ He parked up and peered through the windscreen, but the nature of the shapes was still impossible to make out. He sighed and opened the door so he could step out of the car, and pulled up his hood as wind and ice blasted his face. Even from here he couldn’t tell what was in the road; he just knew there were about thirty of them. There was a strange clicking sound as he slowly approached. In the back of the car, Tom heard Cooper barking. Wind whistled around his head, whipping the snow into his eyes. He almost tripped on a drift as he drew closer – then his breath caught in his throat. Because standing in the centre of the road, blocking his path and staring at him, was a herd of reindeer.
Twenty-Nine
Meg was cold. She pulled her coat tight around her and tugged at the ends of her fluffy green scarf, fighting back tears as she tried to sing ‘We Wish You A Merry Christmas’. The villagers, all wrapped in puffy coats, hats and scarves, along with a few stragglers from the concert, were huddled around the Promise Tree holding songbooks – and their combined voices were just too loud. She swallowed and looked up into the snow-laden branches at the hundreds of sparkly baubles, wondering if Tom had ever made his promise – and if he had, what it might have been. To get out of Lockton before Christmas, or to avoid letting himself fall in love? She closed her eyes for a moment, blocking out the feelings of rejection. She knew Tom cared for her, but his wounds were just too deep for him to take a chance. In some ways she could relate, but that wasn’t going to mend her broken heart and neither was this. For the first time since Meg could remember, Christmas wasn’t going to fix anything.
Across from Meg, standing at the front of the large circle of people, Lilith and Davey were pressed close together, and the tinsel draped around their shoulders sparkled prettily in the moonlight. The Italian’s cheeks went pink suddenly when Davey winked and grabbed her hand. She was singing and giggling and Meg wasn’t sure if she’d ever looked happier. The image made her heart throb, but she was glad they’d settled their differences. At least one romance had begun to bloom.
Emily stood to Meg’s right, warbling loudly, stopping every now and then to get closer to Agnes so they could talk about vets and work experience above the singing. Meg’s mum and dad had been absorbed into the crowd and she couldn’t see them now. After insisting Meg agree to meet up the following day to talk, Evie had reluctantly gone home with Callum after the concert because she was jetlagged. Meg had never felt more alone.
‘Look!’ someone shouted suddenly, and the singing began to falter, petering out to a few lone voices as the crowd all looked up from their songbooks and began to turn. Meg pivoted to look in the same direction – back down the road, deep in snow, which headed past Apple Cross Inn, the post office and her shop towards Buttermead Farm.
‘It’s my reindeer!’ Emily cried, and she hopped up and down so she could see through the throng. The brown reindeer from the barn was trotting slowly up the centre of the road, heading
towards the Promise Tree. He stopped suddenly and jerked his head up to sniff the air before making an odd clicking sound.
‘Perhaps he’s looking for more baubles?’ Marcus joked from somewhere behind Meg.
‘Or maybe he’s just lonely,’ Emily said. ‘I read somewhere they’re pack animals. He’s probably looking for company.’
‘Aye,’ Agnes agreed. ‘I suppose we all need that.’ She reached for Fergus’s hand.
They watched as the reindeer took a few more steps and sniffed the air again. Then there was a sharp beeping sound from the opposite direction and the horde rotated to look towards the road that led to Morridon. Meg stepped forward, but there were too many people for her to see what was going on. She went onto her tiptoes as the crowd surged in the direction of the noise. Then there were a few gasps and happy whoops as they scattered and parted.
‘There are more reindeer!’ Cora shouted, her voice filled with delight. ‘It’s a herd. It’s got to be the wee laddie’s family.’
Then Meg saw Cooper scampering through the snow, dodging the groups of people until he was close enough to press his wet nose against her leg. She reached down to scratch his head, feeling her heart lift as she looked up and quickly searched for Tom.
Was he here? Had his car broken down? What did it mean?
‘Aye.’ Agnes moved closer and clasped Meg’s hand. ‘Looks like your hot toddy is back, with no interference from me.’ She grinned at Fergus.
Meg’s heart was beating faster, and she swallowed the emotion as Tom emerged from the crowd. He was walking slowly towards her, and following behind him, like some kind of mirage, was a herd of about thirty brown reindeer. Meg waited, her heart in her throat, until he was standing right in front of her. His hat and coat were plastered in snow, but his eyes were warm and she had a sudden urge to kiss him.
If Every Day Was Christmas: A gorgeous and heart-warming Christmas romance Page 21
