Home for the Holidays

by Sue Moorcroft

  He angled his head to drop a kiss on her face, making her smile. ‘I have to leave.’

  ‘OK.’ Beneath the duvet, her hand stroked down from his stomach.

  His eyes drifted shut again. ‘I do have to leave.’

  ‘OK.’ She gurgled with laughter when, instead of leaving, he rolled on top of her.

  He ended up ringing the bailiff to explain why he was going to be late again. Moreover, when he did finally arrive to join the team taking out a diseased elm before it spread its nasties, he was so keen not to create even a hint of bad morning-after etiquette this time that he texted Alexia before he jumped out the truck.

  Ben: Last night was amazing. xxx

  It was lunchtime before he had a chance to check for a reply.

  Alexia: Yes, it was … xxx

  Alexia: *Blush* x

  Ben grinned as he put his phone away, feeling more light-hearted than he had for a considerable time.

  He was well into his busy day when he realised he’d never had replies to his texts to Imogen or Lloyd. He took out his phone to follow up, then hesitated. If they hadn’t replied to the first message they wouldn’t reply to a second. He stuffed the phone back in his pocket and jumped in the truck to drive to the hospital. One thing at a time.

  Alexia had whizzed through her shower and run wet fingers through her hair in lieu of styling before dashing to Quinn’s house in Yaxley, the other side of Peterborough, leaping from the car with seconds to spare before the agreed ten o’clock ‘at the latest’ rendezvous.

  Quinn threw open the front door before the doorbell had reached its last echo. The winter sun made her mop of dark hair gleam. ‘I thought you weren’t going to make it. I have to leave in ten minutes because I’m recording an outside broadcast on my way to the radio station.’

  Alexia’s cheeks grew warm. ‘Sorry. I, um, stayed in bed longer than I meant to.’

  ‘Come in and let’s cut to the chase, then.’ Quinn dragged her through the door and beamed. ‘How would you like to be in a video?’

  In her wildest dream Alexia hadn’t expected that. With what had happened last night with Ben she’d suddenly stopped wondering about Quinn’s intriguing voicemail. She groped for the right words. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never given it a thought.’

  ‘Think about it now.’ Quinn chivvied her down the hall and out into the conservatory, which she and Ruby were currently using as their lounge. Alexia was part way through transforming their sitting and dining rooms to an ethereal green that reminded her of light filtering through water. Feature walls of bold stripes in the dining room and stylised peonies in the sitting room would be breathtaking once Alexia used their accent colours to pull everything together.

  ‘Sit, sit, hurry, hurry,’ demanded Quinn. ‘If I’m going to sign you up I need to get on with it. It’s only because someone dropped out that I can ask you at all but I know you’ll be good. And you won’t turn to jelly, because I’ll be with you.’

  With a laugh, Alexia obediently took a seat in a cane chair. ‘I’m exploding with curiosity. What are you talking about?’

  Quinn slapped two pieces of paper on a small black table as if exasperated Alexia couldn’t read her mind. ‘OK – bullet points. There’s a homes and interiors show at the East of England Showground on Wednesday for which I’ve agreed to put together a panel of experts to discuss home improvements. It’s being filmed for YouTube. You’ll be great to consult about decorating and refurbishing. Do say yes! You’ll be fab and it’s got to be good exposure for you.’

  ‘Oh. It would be if—’

  ‘If …?’

  ‘If you really think I won’t be a disaster,’ Alexia ended feebly, grappling with a scary vision of glaring lights and staring cameras.

  Quinn planted her hands on her hips. ‘Would I ask you if I thought you’d be a disaster?’

  ‘I suppose not …’

  ‘So you’ll do it?’ Quinn tapped the paperwork.

  ‘Um … I suppose so. Yes, OK.’ Alexia’s head felt all big and floaty. She wasn’t sure if it was because of this extraordinary suggestion coming out of the blue or the fact that she’d skipped breakfast but she did recognise that she was being offered a rare opportunity. ‘So long as everyone knows I’ve never done anything like it before.’

  ‘You’d never done radio before but you were a natural.’ Quinn’s round cheeks quivered on either end of her huge smile. ‘All you have to do is ignore the camera, chat to the interviewer and other panel members and answer questions. The footage will be edited before it goes online so it doesn’t matter if you waffle or need to cough. The team will extract what they want.’

  ‘I’ve been to the homes and interiors show once or twice. Is it in the Peterborough Arena again?’

  Quinn nodded, turning her pieces of paper towards Alexia. ‘The main event’s in the Exhibition Hall but there will be several media stages in the Atrium, and that’s where we’ll be. Gorgeous light quality in there.’ She tapped the pages. ‘Read this, this and this, then sign this, and the release, if you’re happy. I’ve got to run but if you have any questions or decide not to go ahead can you text me? I’ll have to look for someone else.’

  Quinn’s tone suggested she absolutely didn’t want to look for anyone else and Alexia found herself supporting that wish. In the last two minutes a wave of excitement had carried her from never entertaining an ambition to be filmed to wanting desperately to have this new and exciting experience. By the time Quinn had wriggled her feet into thick boots and dragged on a royal blue overcoat Alexia had scan-read the documents, which seemed very simple, and signed on the dotted lines with a flourish. ‘Here you are!’

  ‘Fab!’ Quinn swept up the pages. ‘I’ll find out what happens about passes and stuff and email you. Toodles!’

  In two minutes, Alexia was listening to Quinn’s car roar away, her heart still beating fast enough to make her feel unreal.

  After climbing into overalls, she hummed to herself as she put up her wallpaper table. Work was beginning to pick up, although some of it consisted of Elton’s damned costings, and The Angel was coming along. Now she had this YouTube film to look forward to. And last night had been … well, her legs still didn’t feel as if they belonged to her.

  All she needed now was for Gabe to start getting better.

  Her task for the day was wallpapering the feature walls so she forced any YouTube-related butterflies to settle and mixed the paste. Careful with her plumb line because vertical stripes were reliably more regular on the paper than the wall to which the paper was applied, she soon found her zone. Her pasting roller moved in long slow strokes, letting each fall of paper soak for exactly the same amount of time so as to avoid uneven application. Not wanting Quinn and Ruby to return home to find she’d put the paper up crooked, she only allowed herself to think about Ben when she took her breaks. This meant a break was called for when he texted, mid-afternoon.

  Ben: Have seen Gabe and he seems slightly brighter and even checked up on our treatment of his animals. He says you can visit him any time. xx

  The City Hospital was almost on her route between Yaxley and Middledip. She put a spurt on and by the end of the day had papered both feature walls, cleaned her roller and bucket, and tossed them in the back of her MPV along with her overalls. She slid into her coat, slightly disappointed that neither Ruby nor Quinn had arrived home in time to admire the contrast between their bold and lively wallpaper choices and the ethereal green walls.

  Rush hour traffic dogged her through Farcet into Peterborough, then she had the hassle associated with parking, but it was all worthwhile when she reached Gabe’s ward and found him awake. He turned his head on the pillow when she stole into his room.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ she whispered.

  He pulled a face. ‘Damned sore. Pleurisy hurts. I can’t cough or sneeze without saying “bastard”.’

  Alexia grinned. ‘But you’re more wakeful than I’ve seen you for days.’

  He nodded and
held up a pair of crossed fingers. ‘Early indications are that the antibiotics in the drip are working. I asked Ben to bring me more pyjamas and he bought me four new pairs. Do you think he was trying to tell me my old ones had seen better days?’ Then he hunched his shoulders, covered his mouth and went into a paroxysm of coughing, cough, cough, cough, COUGH, COUGH, and finished up with, ‘Uhh … bastard!’

  Trying not to giggle at his coping technique, Alexia began bringing him up to date on progress at The Angel.

  Gabe, though, wasn’t attentive. Mainly he sank into his pillows and coughed until he could groan and gasp ‘bastard!’ so, although she’d been cheered to perceive a small improvement, Alexia kept her visit brief and was soon hurrying to her car through icy rain for the drive back to Middledip.

  When she entered the village, rather than stay on Main Road after she’d slowed for the speed camera – which someone had added a flamboyant twist of silver tinsel to – she turned right along Ladies Lane and then left into Port Road to call in at The Angel to check on the progress of the electrician and the plumber.

  She picked her way across the dark drive and unlocked the door, stepping into the reassuringly familiar musty smell of drying plaster. Flicking light switches as she went, she found wiring and plumbing complete and that plaster patching had begun. There was still some to do and she texted Freddie to ask him to concentrate on the toilets and foyer and leave the pantry till last. With a few days’ drying time she’d be able to apply the mist coat of watered down white emulsion to seal the raw plaster in the area they needed finished in order for The Angel Community Café to open. She glanced at the screed on the floor. As it was to be tiled over she could use a roller for the mist coat and spatter wouldn’t matter.

  She wandered into the Public to assess the number of chairs and tables they’d need in there. If she could see one on Freecycle within easy fetching distance she might put a sofa and a long, low coffee table against the back wall. Dark brown or black, preferably, so that when Mums ’n’ Tots met in here it wouldn’t show if someone was careless with a crayon.

  The mist coat would begin the exciting part of the transformation, she thought, gazing about with satisfaction. Soon would follow emulsion, tiles, doors, window dressing and shiny kitchen fittings.

  Mind working on when they could get the light fittings in, she meandered back into the Bar Parlour – and nearly jumped out of her skin to see the figure of a man coming towards her.

  It was Ben and he was frowning. ‘Snobby isn’t eating properly,’ he said without preamble. ‘I’ve no way of finding out whether he’s grazing but his hay net’s scarcely been touched.’ His eyes seemed darker than usual in the brash light of bare bulbs. His gaze was fixed on her, but he halted a few steps away.

  Alexia’s heart gave a couple of extra beats but she followed his lead with an all-in-a-day’s-work tone. ‘If he’s drinking I think we could perhaps leave him a day or two. Then we’ll need to talk to a vet if we’re still concerned.’

  He accepted her idea with a nod. ‘Perhaps he just needs company. We could take him for a walk?’

  It sounded like a question so Alexia answered, ‘OK. I’ll take my car home and get my boots.’ It seemed a pragmatic sort of conversation with which to greet each other after a night notable mainly for the amount of sex they’d packed into it.

  She was conscious of a gentle sinking sensation, unable to discount the memory of their first morning-after-the-night-before – and afternoon-after-the-night-before, for that matter – when Ben had behaved like an arse. She watched him uncertainly, searching for signs of that same uncomfortable distance in his face.

  But then he held his hand out for hers and closed the distance between them. Stopped. Stooped. Touched her lips with his, his tongue tip quivering along her bottom lip, and pleasure flooded through her like liquid heat. He pulled back to look at her. ‘I think you have wallpaper paste in your hair.’

  ‘Wouldn’t be the first time.’

  He grinned, then led her back out into the evening as if they’d walked hand-in-hand a hundred times before. ‘Let’s go on a date with a lonely pony.’

  Vehicles parked outside Alexia’s cottage, they walked up Gabe’s track. ‘I wonder how we’ll catch Snobby if he’s off his food,’ mused Alexia. ‘Generally you have to make it worth his while before he’ll let you approach.’

  ‘I’d be happy to give him ten handfuls of carrots if it meant I knew he was eating.’

  However, Snobby just mumbled over the proffered carrots and let them fall, allowing Ben to attach the leading rein to his head collar without even a show of tossing his head out of reach or hiding it between his hocks.

  ‘He’s not himself,’ Alexia declared, warming one hand on Snobby’s neck as they traversed The Cross and turned into the bridleway. ‘He must be missing Gabe.’

  Ben stroked Snobby’s greying mane. ‘Another reason for us to hope Gabe gets home quickly.’

  Although Snobby’s ears flicked back and forth at the rustlings and noises of the night-time hedgerow he didn’t even bother to pretend to spook at shadows just for the entertainment of pulling people off their feet. They tried trotting him and he did reluctantly break into a bit of a shamble, but almost immediately fell back into a walk, as if anything else was just too much trouble.

  Even Alexia breaking the news about the YouTube filming didn’t grab Snobby’s attention, though Ben was gratifyingly interested and congratulatory.

  The only time Snobby showed any real animation was when they escorted him back up Gabe’s track. He dug in his toes and pricked his ears as he stared in the direction of the house. Then he blew out what sounded suspiciously like an unhappy sigh and allowed Alexia to lead him through the muddy patch into his paddock. He held still for the lead rein to be detached then mooched disconsolately up to his field shelter, drank briefly, then stood with his head hanging.

  As Ben and Alexia hadn’t joined Snobby on hunger strike, they paused only to feed and water Luke then strode off to The Three Fishes, staking their claim on a table near the fire for a supper of lasagne with crusty bread.

  Beginning on a pleasingly golden pint of lager, Alexia sat back with a contented sigh.

  Ben’s knee was warm against hers beneath the table. He leant close, his breath tickling her ear. ‘Sebastian’s behind you. He’s staring at you so longingly I’m surprised his gaze isn’t burning your back.’

  She groaned. ‘I won’t look over because I’m not sure I can cope with him this evening. He makes me feel guilty for not returning his feelings.’

  Ben sat back to allow Janice to set their steaming meals before them, then passed Alexia a set of napkin-wrapped cutlery and unwrapped his own. ‘I’m not sure what there is to be done. You can’t feel to order just to make him happy.’

  She broke through the baked cheese topping to the lasagne with her fork, allowing fragrant steam to escape. ‘True, but poor Seb. He’s the original Mr Nice Guy. But also, unfortunately, Mr Possessive.’

  Ben tilted his head thoughtfully. ‘You can pretend you don’t know he’s there unless he actually comes over. Then we could say we’re having an early night, if you want to get away.’

  Alexia almost choked on hot cheese as Ben hadn’t lowered his voice and a couple of nearby conversations paused expectantly. He grinned but spoke more quietly as, beneath the table, he slid his hand lightly onto her thigh. ‘Or am I being possessive?’

  She drank a mouthful of her beer so she could speak again. ‘Not exactly.’

  Subtly, his expression altered, as if reading a lot into those two words. The expression of gentle amusement in his eyes died. ‘Ah. I’ve taken too much for granted in assuming there’s more bed in our future?’

  ‘Not exactly that either.’ Alexia watched the expression in his eyes, trying to find the right way to share what was on her mind. ‘I’m hoping there is but …’ She hesitated awkwardly. ‘At the same time, I’m hoping we don’t have to hang too many labels on whatever’s happening betwe
en us. It’s not that I don’t want it to be happening,’ she added hastily. ‘I just want to—’

  ‘Let it happen?’ he suggested.

  She took his hand. ‘Now I feel as if it’s me writing all the rules. How do you feel?’

  ‘Happy to keep things light,’ he answered promptly, giving her fingers a squeeze.

  ‘I could probably keep things light for at least a decade before I tired of it. Possibly longer.’

  His eyes crinkled. ‘Thanks for the clarification.’

  In case he thought she was joking, she kept her voice serious. ‘Something I was never able to get over to Seb is that I can enjoy the zing!, that tingly magnetic pull towards someone without wanting to be part of a Couple with a capital C. I’m truly happy as things are.’ She waited for him to react. To show some sign of being slighted that she didn’t demand the labels and commitment that everyone seemed to think all women wanted.

  But he just lifted her hand and kissed it. ‘Don’t panic. Let’s just enjoy the zing.’

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Although she had a lot to occupy her days – Gabe was still making only slow progress, the plasterers were almost finished at The Angel and she continued to enjoy feeling tingly with Ben – Alexia felt that the Wednesday of the YouTube filming took a long time to come around.

  Carola had been beyond excited when Alexia offered her the companion pass she received along with her own. Alexia had briefly considered offering it to Jodie to cheer her up but it was Carola who’d earned the treat with her unstinting work on The Angel’s furniture. Now the day was here Carola had insisted on driving Alexia to the East of England Showground as a mark of gratitude. ‘This is going to be amazing!’ she crowed, almost bouncing with joy as they left the car park and joined the crowd filtering into the foyer and Exhibition Hall, relieved to be out of the wind that tore across the 250 acres of showground.