Snowflakes Over Holly Cove: The most heartwarming festive romance of 2018

by Lucy Coleman

  ‘It’s unlikely strangers would wander down this far. And everything is locked so no need to concern yourself – things don’t mean much to me but people, well, that’s something else. I’ll leave you to your thinking. The sea is a great calmer of emotions and turmoil. Just let it all go and watch the waves. It’s a quick fix, I promise you.’

  He nods and turns, my eyes following him all the way up the beach until he disappears inside the cabin.

  That’s what I like about Max. He doesn’t feel the need to delve into your business if you don’t offer him information. And he doesn’t expect you to be burdened with his anxieties. And yet I know if something went wrong he would probably be the best person to run to, even over Nic. With age comes wisdom, is the saying, and naturally that has an element of truth to it; but life’s more traumatic experiences lead to an even greater wisdom. I suspect the learning curve for the latter is a much bigger rollercoaster ride, leaving some ugly scars as a constant reminder.

  I head back and when Nic turns up we are both a little unsettled and subdued. We are determined not to let our concerns dampen the enjoyment of our pre-dinner walk and he tells me all about his meeting with Gareth. We head back and work alongside each other to create a very passable spaghetti bolognaise.

  It’s clear he intends to stay the night and for that I’m grateful, but I don’t mention the fact that he didn’t bring any clothes with him. Whether that’s because he still has a lot of stuff in wardrobes in the second bedroom, or if an element of uncertainty about my future here has made him hold back, I don’t know.

  When I glance out before drawing the curtains my eyes now instinctively scan the spot among the holly trees but tonight nothing moves in the shadowy darkness. If it had, I realise that I don’t know quite how I would handle it. I certainly wouldn’t want Nic dashing out and putting himself at risk, that’s for sure. Max is right; property can be replaced: people can’t.

  Thursday passes in much the same way, a day that seems to stretch out forever because I just want it to be over. Like having a rain cloud constantly hanging over me, whatever I’m doing.

  A knock on the door, when I find myself staring back at postman Tom’s smiling face, is a welcome surprise.

  ‘First time I’ve been ’ere for a while.’ He hands me the envelope containing my train tickets and my stomach turns over.

  ‘Thank you, Tom. I probably won’t have any more post while I’m here. And thank you for being so patient with me at the barn dance. It’s a lot harder than it looks,’ I joke, hoping he didn’t think my initial frown was aimed at him.

  ‘I’m not being funny, but you picked it up right quick, there. I’m only saying, like.’

  His face is a picture, flushed and a little sheepish. The Welsh lilt of his accent is warming to the ears.

  ‘Is Nic about?’ He cranes his neck slightly, as if he’s expecting Nic to suddenly loom up behind me.

  ‘No. I’m on my own.’

  ‘Oh, well, I’ll drop his post up at the farm as usual, then.’ He seems surprised, but heads off with a little salute.

  ‘Hope I see you again before your stay is up, Tia. Maybe I’ll catch the two of you in the pub sometime.’

  I close the door, leaning back against it with my heart pounding in my chest. Olwen is right and this is getting a little complicated. I shake my head to dispel this chain of thought. Until I find out what is going on at the office it’s hard not to let it disturb my concentration, or set my nerves anymore on edge than they are already. I must address that problem first, or I’ll be in a real state by the time I jump on that train. Only then can I think about the impact on what’s happening here, with Nic, if I end up heading back to London for good on Monday.

  *

  Nic is up and out very early on Friday morning. He’s due to collect a regular fare from Cardiff airport. Apparently, it’s a couple who own one of the very large houses off the Caswell Road. He told me that they fly down from Scotland every few weeks for a long weekend. I can see that he’s torn and regrets he can’t drive me to Swansea. Our parting hug and kiss is poignant. I already fear this is the beginning of the end for us, even though our relationship has hardly begun. I think he feels the same way.

  ‘Just keep a level head,’ are his parting words.

  ‘And you drive safely. I’ll see you at the station tonight.’

  I open the envelope to put the train tickets in my wallet and it’s only then that I notice they are first class. I check out the price and it’s three times the regular fare. Muttering under my breath, I quickly text Hayley, thinking she’s going to be in big trouble for this and only too glad I noticed it before I’d used them.

  Just noticed the tickets are 1st class! Really sorry! Can u change asap?

  She won’t be in the office yet, but she’ll be getting ready and I know she’ll be scanning her phone. Ten minutes pass and I’m restless. The taxi will be here very shortly and it’s stressful swapping between keeping an eye out for the appearance of the car and checking my phone. Ping. At last!

  Not a mistake. Orders from the top. Enjoy!

  Not a mistake? Obviously, I had intended to work while I was on the train, but assumed Clarissa wouldn’t expect me to have anything ready at the other end to give her right there and then. I thought maybe the meeting had overshadowed that.

  OK. Have a lot of work to do, anyway. Roll on lunchtime aarrgghh!!

  I get a smiley face back.

  The moment the sound of tyres crunching on gravel hits my ears I’m out of the door, briefcase and handbag in hand. Seconds later we’re on the road and as the driver does a cursory check in his rear-view mirror, I wonder what he thinks. This morning, when I looked back at the mirror image of myself in a well-tailored navy jacket and trousers, teamed with a white silk blouse, a sense of terror had hit me full-on. Can I be the person I was before all of this happened? Mum, Nic…

  I push down the panic that is making my stomach begin to churn. Slow, deep, breaths. Keep calm, Tia, and remain composed. Whatever happens today you’ll come up with a plan for the future. You have no ties and no responsibilities, aside from the mortgage repayments. Your CV demonstrates you are a very capable and professional person, and wouldn’t it be refreshing to work for someone who didn’t strike fear into your heart?

  Anyway, Clarissa isn’t the only industry guru and you know you would be headhunted, I appease my troubled thoughts. My reputation precedes me and a wave of satisfaction washes over me. This is a temporary, and understandable, blip requiring some time out. It could happen to anyone. Even so, I’m still on top form and am smashing it. Clarissa was right and this feature needed the attention of someone who could wring out every single drop of emotion. And that’s exactly what I’m going to deliver, topped off with a sprinkling of seasonal sparkle.

  It does the trick and once I’m on the train I begin polishing the overview of the January article, more than ready to prove my worth. I’m not going down without a fight. I guess that means that I’m back in the game. So, watch out everyone because the gloves are on and I will be reclaiming my seat.

  *

  Rather worryingly, as I step into the Tube train I can feel the panic begin to rise in me, once more. However, I hope it’s more to do with the stifling crush of people around me and the lack of free-flowing air. My breathing becomes shallower and I focus on calming myself. This is my home turf and yet my head can’t really cope with the contrast between getting up this morning at Beach View Cottage and arriving in London. I used to hop on the Tube every day without a thought and now I’m almost hyperventilating.

  As I take a seat I feel as though I stand out and I’ve forgotten how to blend in, so people don’t notice you. I’m self-conscious, sporting that look infrequent travellers’ faces take on as they watch the blackness of the tunnel walls whizzing past. Their struggle to find anything even remotely interesting to focus their gaze on is often painful to watch. It’s hard to avoid the awkwardness of staring around at total strangers, so
tightly packed together and all going through the same motions. Locals, on the other hand, usually come prepared with something to read to while away the journey.

  If I thought that was a trial, as I step through the door of Unicorn Towers I have to focus on moving my feet forward, one at a time. Staff I recognise at the reception desk barely register me, as though I’ve been forgotten already. The stream of people coming and going purposefully leave me side-stepping to avoid being trampled. That used to be me. Come on, Tia, you’ve done this so many times before. Why is this such an issue today? Shoulders back, I march towards the lift and head up to the eighth floor.

  It’s eleven forty-five and I have fifteen minutes to check my hair and refresh my lipstick before I brave the conference room. As the lift doors open, Hayley is hovering. She throws her arms around me in a fierce hug, before stepping back.

  ‘At last! I was getting worried. We need a quick chat.’

  I follow her to the cloakroom. While she quickly checks that we’re alone, I go through the motions of brushing my hair and re-applying some red lip gloss.

  ‘He’s here, Clarissa’s boss. He arrived an hour ago and they’ve been in her office ever since. You should see Finlay, he’s practically biting his finger nails off.’

  I step away from the mirror, wondering who is this person staring back at me? The deep frown on my face is like some sort of mask and beneath that is fear of the unknown. But as I turn on my heels to look at Hayley, something inside me clicks.

  ‘Calm down, lady. There’s no point in worrying until we know what this is all about. Let’s go find ourselves a nice seat in the back row.’

  Hayley looks at me as if I’ve gone mad.

  ‘You aren’t concerned?’

  ‘My mother used to say that when one door shuts, another door opens. The world doesn’t begin and end in Unicorn Towers, although it feels like that sometimes. Shoulders back, head high and deep breaths. Let’s stand out from the crowd by exuding an air of quiet confidence. If nothing else, it might annoy Clarissa a little.’

  She looks at me and laughs. ‘I’d forgotten how formidable you can be. It’s nice to see you back on form.’ And with that we head into the war zone.

  I always sit at the back, usually because you can see so much more. I’m a people-watcher by nature and the general reaction to any news is quite important in a staff meeting. If the troops are in revolt then you must ensure you don’t get swept along with general muttering and moaning. I’ve seen it happen before. Say nothing, digest the information and don’t get drawn into something you haven’t thought through. You need to evaluate everything you say, so that when you do speak up it really counts if you want to rise above the general ranks in this industry. It’s all about singling yourself out by thinking outside the box. If change is coming, then there will also be opportunities and I intend to be front and centre when I know where this is leading.

  The room quickly fills up and a few people notice me seated next to Hayley and give a friendly wave in my direction. Finlay clocks me the minute he steps through the door, but all I get is an icy stare. He sits on his own in the front row. Moments later he calls out to one of the guys from the Design department as he enters, to join him. The guy quickly scans the room, before rather reluctantly settling himself down next to Finlay. Finlay doesn’t make friends easily and he’s upset a lot of people. But he’s temporarily sitting at my desk and that gives him a boost up the corporate ladder. At what point does a request become an instruction, looks like the thought that is reflected on the poor guy’s face.

  When Clarissa arrives, she’s in deep conversation with her boss, but I see her steal a glance over his shoulder, her eyes seeking me out. I give a nod, unable to raise a smile in response to her brief stare before she starts addressing the room.

  ‘Welcome everyone and I promise to keep this as short as possible. For those who haven’t yet had the pleasure, I’d like to introduce you to Oliver Sinclair. Oliver is Vice President of the Lancing Group and is here today to tour the offices and make an announcement. There are a few things we need to cover and I’m sure there will be some questions, so I’ll let Oliver make a start.’

  She gives him a dazzling smile and Hayley squirms in her seat.

  ‘Good morning, everyone. The magazine has been in Unicorn Towers now for almost six years and in the last two years Clarissa has been a formidable, and dynamic, force for change. It has seen Love a Happy Ending lifestyle magazine grow its market share year-on-year. Now, obviously, to do that she had to have a good team and the first thing I would like to say is that you all deserve a round of applause.’

  Everyone is a little stunned, but as he puts his hands together we all follow like sheep. Hayley and I look at each other, our faces showing utter disbelief at this overt attempt to get the staff on his side.

  ‘As I said, very well deserved and it’s because of the sterling leadership Clarissa has shown that my presence here hasn’t been required. My motto is that if it isn’t broken, then don’t try to fix it.’

  He stops and there’s a ripple of laughter. The mood shifts slightly, as people begin to pin their hopes on Oliver’s upbeat tone. Maybe this isn’t about job losses, after all.

  ‘Now, on to the main reason for today’s visit. Lancing are about to announce a new project that will be launching next spring. During the initial setting-up stage I have asked Clarissa to head up the team.’

  He pauses and there’s a loud collective gasp, as literally everyone in the room does a sharp intake of breath. Heads turn as people look at the general reaction from their peers.

  ‘I understand your concern and I’m here to reassure you all that we are confident Clarissa can continue to lightly steer things here, during that phase. I’ll hand you back now to the lady herself, to give you a little more information.’

  Clarissa is glowing and steps forward as she takes Oliver’s outstretched hand. He leans in to kiss her cheek. This is a previously unimaginable demonstration from Clarissa, of her warm relationship with her boss. It’s actually rather shocking and I can see I’m not alone in thinking that way.

  No one has moved a muscle: it’s like watching something unfolding in front of you that you can’t believe is happening.

  ‘First of all, I want to apologise for the speed at which things have begun to overtake us. Due to previously unforeseen circumstances, we’ve been forced to bring forward our plans by one full month. Naturally, this will affect quite a few of you, due to a temporary staffing restructure to accommodate the changes. I’m still working on revised job descriptions for those involved. Over the course of the next week I will be having one-to-one meetings so that everyone is clear about how we are going to proceed if their role has been affected.

  ‘I’m sure you will all see that this bodes well for the future of the magazine, as well as for the overall group. Standing still is never an option and the secret to success is being ahead of the game. I think with Oliver’s steer the group is about to take another huge leap forward. Thank you all for listening and now does anyone have any burning questions?’

  The usual people put up their hands and there’s some back and forth conversation, but it’s very clear no further information is going to be given out today. It sounds like the details are still being thrashed-out, but now with a sense of some real urgency. It looks to me like there’s been a leak. The panic is on to tell the staff, before the rumours start to circulate. Clarissa thanks everyone and people start to vacate their seats.

  Hayley leans in to me to whisper in my ear. ‘Well, that said a little about not a lot. They’re keeping it all very under wraps. At least it looks like our jobs are safe.’

  I nod, noticing that Finlay has risen from his seat and is shaking Oliver’s hand. Clarissa is standing next to him, deep in conversation.

  I encourage Hayley to hold back, thinking that if we avoid bumping into them then we can sneak out for lunch.

  ‘I need a drink,’ she says, as we lean against the wall w
aiting for the queue of people standing in line to shake Oliver’s hand to clear.

  We start walking down the aisle, assuming Oliver and Clarissa will be on the move before we are parallel with them. Instead, they both turn and look in our direction.

  It’s like the proverbial walk of shame, admitting we were hiding ourselves away in the back row.

  As we draw level, Clarissa steps forward, immediately introducing Hayley.

  ‘Hayley is the best personal assistant I’ve ever had. And that’s over a period of more years than I care to remember.’

  Oliver and Hayley shake hands. The flush on Hayley’s face reflects how uncomfortable she’s feeling under their scrutiny.

  ‘We need to have a proper conversation about this, Hayley, but you’ll be getting an admin person to assist you. We’re going to ramp up your role as a part of the general re-organisation. Congratulations on your temporary promotion.’

  Hayley turns towards me looking extremely pleased and I smile back at her. I’m rather shocked that Clarissa is happy to talk about this in front of me, although behind us the room is now empty.

  It becomes clear Hayley is being dismissed, as both Oliver and Clarissa turn their attention towards me next.

  ‘Perhaps we could take this into my office?’ Clarissa suggests and then immediately turns on her heels.

  I bring up the rear, spinning back around to give Hayley a brief grimace. She mouths, ‘I’ll wait.’

  *

  When Hayley and I arrive at the coffee shop it’s packed, so we order sandwiches and coffee to go. There are some benches in a little square a few blocks away from the office. It’s tucked away and while there’s only one tree and a couple of raised flower beds, we often go there. It’s a reasonably quiet and secluded place to sit. I think people assume it is private access only for the impressive Georgian houses that surround it on three sides. It’s enclosed by ornate railings and a heavy, metal gate but there are no warning signs. Often, we are the only people sitting there. Our take on it, until someone says something to the contrary, is that it’s a space that shouldn’t be wasted. It’s one of our favourite haunts when the weather is mild.