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

by Lucy Coleman

  ‘What day is it? What time is it?’ My mind starts to process what has happened and yet it’s like clutching at fragments and trying to pull them together to form a complete picture.

  ‘It’s the twenty-second of December, just after five in the evening.’

  ‘My brother is here?’

  The nurse nods and steps forward. ‘Yes, he arrived a couple of hours’ ago. Your boyfriend is here, too, and he only briefly left your side when you had your scan. I sent them off to grab a cup of coffee; shall I see if they’re back?’

  I nod, it’s too difficult to explain about Nic. Dr Evans adjusts my drip and I wince as his hand brushes against my elbow.

  ‘The skin isn’t broken but you seem to have hit your elbow on something sharp when you fell to the ground. It will be painful but it’s only bruising. The bandages on your hands can come off tomorrow morning. You have a lot of cuts and a few broken nails, which should heal quite quickly. We removed a few tiny pieces of flint and then cleaned them up to avoid infection; there’s nothing to worry about there.’

  ‘But I want to go home.’ I feel tearful, although my eyes remain dry.

  ‘When someone with a head injury loses consciousness for a significant period, our protocol is to keep the patient under observation for up to forty-eight hours. That’s for your own safety. We’re not expecting any complications but sometimes your hearing, vision or memory can be affected and we need to monitor that. But if you continue to improve we might be able to send you home early Christmas Eve morning.’

  ‘That would be wonderful. It’s my first Christmas celebrating with my little niece and that’s very special to me.’

  The nurse returns and already it’s easier for my eyes to focus when I move them quickly from one object to another. Everything’s still slightly fuzzy and a little unreal to me; but I don’t feel so disconnected to what’s going on around me, now.

  ‘I think we can take this drip down, nurse. I’ll be back to see you in the morning, Tia. I’ve prescribed something for the pain but I don’t want to give you anything to help you sleep. You shouldn’t need it anyway, as you will tire easily, but if you develop any new symptoms, Jane here will be checking you throughout the night.’

  ‘Thank you, Dr Evans.’

  Even before he has had time to walk out of the door, Jane is already easing back the plaster on my arm. The door opens once more and this time I look up to see Will and Nic walking towards the bed. Will’s forehead is knotted up in a frown and Nic looks as pale as a ghost.

  ‘I won’t be a moment, guys. I’ll disconnect the drip and take out the needle, then I’ll settle Tia into the armchair. The sooner we have her moving around, the better.’

  I feel like a child with my parents anxiously fussing over me after a fall. Moving between the bed and the chair isn’t easy, but it’s a relief to be doing something normal. Lying in bed I felt like an invalid.

  Will carries two chairs over, placing one each side of me.

  ‘Here, Nic. Sit down before you fall down, my friend.’

  My eyes follow every movement. My brain is slowly ticking over.

  ‘What time did you arrive?’ I look up at Will as he lowers himself into his seat.

  ‘Three hours ago, and I came straight here. Olwen is back at the cottage with Sally and Bella. Don’t concern yourself about anything at the moment, other than getting some rest.’

  Gingerly he places his hand very gently on my forearm, giving it a tiny squeeze of reassurance. It’s about the only place on my body that doesn’t hurt.

  I turn my heard towards Nic and it’s horrible to see him looking so exhausted and pale. He shifts in his chair and lets out an involuntary groan.

  ‘You’re hurt? And Max, they didn’t—?’

  Nic raises his hand, putting one finger to his lips to gently hush me.

  ‘There’s nothing to be anxious about, Tia, please trust me. I have a couple of bruised ribs that will heal. Max sprained his wrist but they put it in a splint and we packed him off back to the cottage in a taxi an hour ago.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Sis. He has Olwen and Sally fussing over him.’

  For the first time since I woke up, tears begin to well-up in my eyes.

  ‘Hey,’ Nic leans forward with obvious difficulty, to place a hand gently on top of my heavily-bandaged one. ‘It’s over. The two thieves are in police custody. You were really brave, Tia, but you put your own life at risk. Max is very aware that the noise would have disturbed him at some point and if he’d blindly rushed out he would have been defenceless. This could have had a really tragic ending if it wasn’t for your very prompt action.’

  I hang my head as images from last night flash across my mind like blinding shards of light. Flick, flick, flick – still images coming together to play out a sequence of events.

  ‘Try not to dwell on it, Tia. Let your mind rest and save that for another day. It will all come back to you, but now is not the time to dwell on it.’

  I smile at him and he gives me a weak smile in return. Will shifts in his chair. I turn my head to look at him, shaking it slightly.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Will; such a horrible thing to happen when I so desperately wanted this to be a joyful family occasion. Poor Sally and Bella. What sort of a start to Christmas is this? Please, go back to them and try to salvage what you can. I don’t want this to spoil Bella’s Christmas. Send them all my love and tell them I’ll be home soon, I promise.’

  ‘Hey, this isn’t your fault. I’m sure Olwen and Sally have everything under control. Christmas will happen and the festivities will begin at soon as you are safely back at the cottage. Look after her, Nic, won’t you? Love you, Sis.’

  He stoops to kiss me lightly on the temple before offering his hand to Nic. They shake, exchanging a meaningful glance before he leaves.

  36

  Sometimes Just Being There is Enough

  Jane returns shortly afterwards with two cups of tea and some biscuits on a tray.

  ‘How are those ribs?’ she asks Nic.

  ‘Sore, but us men have a high pain threshold.’

  Jane and I start laughing. It lifts the mood a little and I’m grateful to him.

  ‘Well, it will be front page news when the Gazette is out,’ she says, pursing her lips.

  ‘I know,’ Nic retorts. ‘That’s one of my jobs and I’m already writing up the copy in my head.’

  She raises her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Better watch what I say, then. You know what reporters are like. I’ll be back in an hour to check Tia’s blood pressure and temperature. Enjoy the tea.’ She smiles as she turns to walk away.

  We sit in silence for a short while and then Nic lifts his cup to sip his tea.

  ‘It’s drinkable, Tia. Let me hold it up for you.’

  I look at my hands as if they don’t belong to me. Trying to bend my fingers sends little stabbing pains radiating out over my knuckles and down to the tips. I wince, despite my best attempt to hide it.

  ‘Here, take a sip.’

  I’m not a tea lover but tea has never tasted so good before. Warm and comforting it hits my empty stomach and seems to lift the nausea a little.

  ‘Thank you, Nic. For everything. They keep referring to you as my boyfriend, sorry about that.’

  ‘I didn’t say anything, as I didn’t think they’d let me stay if they knew.’

  His eyes stray past mine, as he stares over my shoulder for a few seconds and then he brings them back to focus on me.

  ‘Can you stand? You need to see this.’

  I nod and he moves the tray over onto the bed. I half-stand and he gently pulls me on to my feet, letting me lean against him. My knees are bruised and battered from the crawl along the stony ledge at the foot of the cliffs and it wasn’t just the razor-sharp flint but the dried holly leaves which also pierced my skin. It’s just my luck, I muse, enjoying the effects of the medication which seem to blur the edges of everything. We both groan out loud in tandem, which makes me giggle. It’s only h
alf a dozen steps to the window, but it’s a painful walk.

  It’s well worth the effort, though, because the sunset is amazing. The deep red glow fills the entire panorama. It permeates out, turning the dark night into a floodlit arena. We stand, half–hugging and half–supporting each other, staring out over the roof tops of the suburban area surrounding the hospital. Although it’s only four miles away from Caswell Bay we could be in any little town. We watch the fiery rays as they sink down behind the roof tops. It’s as if someone is slowly extinguishing the burning embers of a fire. It’s a reminder that life is full of wondrous moments and you can’t let the negative things detract from that.

  Nic leans in, grimacing at his own pain as he gently, so gently touches his lips to mine.

  ‘I’m so glad you came back for Christmas, Tia.’

  ‘This wasn’t quite what I had planned and I’m sorry for what happened. But thank you, Nic, for coming to my rescue and for staying with me.’

  ‘When I held you in my arms, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, I found myself praying for the first time in years. I’d lost you once through my own stupidity and I didn’t want to lose you again. Suddenly, I saw clearly all the idiotic anger and resentment that had taken over my life, and it made me feel ashamed for what I’d become. I don’t want to be that person anymore.’

  ‘It puts everything else into perspective, doesn’t it?’

  All I can think of is that one split second could have destroyed the rest of our lives.

  ‘I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be, than here with you, now.’

  As we hobble back to our seats, we both chuckle in between sharp intakes of breath and low, mumbling groans.

  ‘Except at the farm in front of a roaring fire, or in the pub enjoying a pint or–’

  ‘OK. So I owe you one. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’ And I will.

  *

  Early evening, feigning tiredness, I eventually persuade Nic to return to the farm. I manage to convince him that after a good night’s sleep we will both feel a lot better. There is a little more colour in his face now, but the bags under his eyes are a clear sign of his underlying exhaustion. I know sleep will take a long time to silence the thoughts whirling around inside my own head, but I also have a lot of thinking to do.

  Nic returns the next morning looking a little more like his usual self. We are both feeling achy, battered and bruised, but surprisingly upbeat. There is no way of knowing what might have happened that night, all we know is that luck was on our side. So, even in the aftermath when the shock begins to kick in and it makes you feel slightly disorientated, as if things aren’t quite real, we simply keep talking. Not about anything important, but it’s enough to help while away the time. Nic tells me all about his plans for the new website and I talk about the way Will and I have finally begun to heal our rift.

  Will, Sally and Bella come for a visit, but I wave them off after an hour, not wanting them to waste the day I had planned for sightseeing. Olwen, bless, has given them a map of the area and highlighted some of the things I would have shown them.

  What touched my heart was when Bella suddenly ran back to me as they were literally giving a last wave before heading out of the door. She stood on tiptoe to whisper in my ear, her face quite solemn.

  ‘Aunty Tia, will Santa know that we’re staying with you for Christmas?’ As she pulled away I caught her hands up in mine and she winced slightly as she glimpsed down at them. ‘Your poor sorely hands, I hope they feel better soon.’

  Love and affection for my gorgeous little niece sent a wonderful sensation of happiness rushing through me, safe in the knowledge that from here on in we were going to have a wonderful relationship.

  I turn my head to whisper my reply. ‘Of course! It was the first thing I did as soon as I knew you were coming. The cottage doesn’t have a chimney, so I sent Santa a key in the post and we mustn’t forget to put out a glass of milk, a plate of biscuits and some carrots for the reindeers.’

  She tentatively gave me a hug. ‘Sorry, I don’t want to hurt you,’ she whispered, ‘but you are just the best Aunty ever and I love you so very much. You’ve made my daddy very happy and that means Mummy and I are very happy, too.’

  With that she ran off, leaving me to wipe away a few stray tears.

  What also surprised me was how easy Will and Nic seem around each other. I know they spent several hours alone together yesterday, watching me as I slept, but I hadn’t realised they’d talked. Not simply making polite conversation, it would seem. Before he left, Will kissed my cheek and then placed his hand on Nic’s shoulder. It was a gesture that took me by surprise.

  ‘Look after her, Nic. Make sure she gets plenty of rest.’

  A look had passed between them that implied solidarity and trust. That can only exist where there is some form of common ground. It made me smile to myself.

  We spend the remainder of the day playing either card games, or chess. I had no idea how competitive Nic is; he certainly has no intention of letting me get away with anything.

  ‘Can’t you let me win just one game?’ I chide him.

  He looks at me quite seriously. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because that’s the polite thing to do.’ I can see from his expression that this has gone completely over his head. ‘I’m tired of playing games.’

  As Nic packs away the chess pieces I catch the strains of Oh Come All Ye Faithful coming from one of the other rooms.

  ‘I can’t believe Christmas is almost here, considering I’ve spent a large part of this year thinking about nothing else, I’m rather sick of it before it even starts. What were your Christmases like?’

  It’s a question I haven’t liked to ask him before now. He glances at me with a small shrug, as if it doesn’t hold any real meaning for him.

  ‘Christmases in front of the fire with Georgina, I suppose. And the nanny. We toasted bread, marshmallows and chestnuts. Clarissa was always at some drinks party or other and Max, well, he rarely made it home before Christmas Eve – and there were many years when we didn’t see him at all.’

  He can’t keep the sadness out of his voice, even though I know he’d be mortified to realise I’d picked up on that.

  ‘That’s sad to hear, Nic. I swear if I ever have children then they will always come first, no matter what else is going on in my life.’

  He turns to look at me, his face grave.

  ‘Ironically it served to bring us closer together, as siblings. We didn’t really know what we were missing out on, I suppose.’

  ‘So, what would be your perfect Christmas experience?’

  I can see from his side profile that a hint of a smile is beginning to creep across his face.

  ‘Nothing too special, actually. Simply being around people who mean something to me, so I guess that’s friends and neighbours, really. Good food, a little wine. A few of the Christmas oldies playing in the background.’

  He doesn’t ask for much. ‘That’s it?’

  ‘I wish George was here, of course. But that’s life. I’ve learnt that it’s better to lower one’s expectations, or face a future full of disappointment.’ My heart constricts in my chest, leaving a dull ache. It reminds me of my situation. Expect nothing, Tia, or face a future full of disappointment because Mum isn’t coming back.

  I think that what we’ve been through recently has changed us both. We end up laughing a lot and sharing obscure, childhood memories; deciding to put our sadness to one side. Laughter doesn’t only soothe the soul, it also helps to raise the spirits. Once again, he is reluctant to leave, but I send him home with a list of things for Olwen to throw in a bag, in anticipation of being released early tomorrow morning. I’m counting the hours, as it simply has to be a day all about family and friends because that’s what Christmas means to me.

  Drifting in and out of sleep I’m scared to let my dreams take over tonight. Maybe it’s the medication I’m on, but whenever I close my eyes I see a world full of shadows and each t
ime I’m back on the beach. Fear runs like a chill through my veins and I have to keep pushing those thoughts away.

  I refuse to be haunted by negative thoughts and trawl through my memory bank for a happy moment, something to cling on to which will get me through tonight. Lying here, meandering through the thought garden of my childhood begins to dispel that chill. Summer mornings eating breakfast sitting on the step by the back door. Planting sunflowers and using the battered old watering can believing that my seeds would grow higher than Will’s. My mother’s face appears and she’s standing in front of the sitting room window; behind her, the snow begins to fall. She’s watching me and I realise I’m opening a present and it’s Christmas morning.

  The box in front of me has a big, green velvet bow and it’s covered in gold paper, not simply wrapped but permanently glued on. Ah, it’s my special gift and as I lift off the detachable lid and look inside my heart skips a beat. Then the memory comes flooding back in full force, triggering the overwhelming sense of pure delight I’d no doubt experienced as a young child. The gift that year was a Cinderella doll and I think it was the year before I started school. Doll’s clothes were expensive I should imagine but my letter to Santa was clear – I wanted a doll with a wardrobe of dresses.

  That box Mum had so lovingly covered with shiny paper continued to be my doll’s wardrobe for several years until I outgrew that phase and it was passed on. The dresses inside were all lovingly sewn by Mum; it reflected hours of work cutting up old frocks to create ball gowns worthy of a princess. How I wish I’d kept just one as a memento I could hold, knowing it had been in her hands and she had toiled away, fuelled by the love in her heart. As I slip into a dreamless sleep I hold onto the feeling of warmth that has consumed me, as if Mum is wrapping her arms around me once more. When you are loved that much you will never, ever be alone because not even death can break something that strong.

  *

  It’s just after eleven a.m. Christmas Eve morning, as helping arms are reaching in to ease me out of Will’s car. Nic surprises me with his agility, although most of his moves are still accompanied by stifled groans. I made him pull up his jumper earlier this morning to inspect the damage for myself. His entire right side is already black and blue with bruises so livid, they don’t actually look real. I could have cried on the spot. How on earth he didn’t end up with broken ribs, well, it’s little short of a miracle.