‘Does Jerry love it as much as you?’
‘He did,’ Dahlia said. ‘Right up until he died.’
Isla clapped a hand over her mouth and Sebastian bit his lip, throwing Isla a sympathetic look.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.’
‘Tsh!’ Dahlia waved a hand. ‘We’re talking ten years ago now; I’ve had plenty of time to get used to life alone.’
‘You’ve never wanted to go home to Chicago?’
‘Not for a second. This is where my Jerry is buried, and this is where I’ll stay until I join him.’
Isla gave her a small smile. It was a sad story, but she wanted Dahlia to keep talking because, in a strange way, it was making her feel a lot less stressed by her own worries. She wanted to ask so much more about Dahlia and her brave move with Jerry, about how they’d found life in a small alpine town, which must have been so very different from the city they’d been born in, about how Dahlia had coped without him when he’d first passed on. Dahlia was a woman she could happily sit and listen to all day. And it also meant that Sebastian wouldn’t be able to ask any questions about her own day, which she definitely didn’t want to talk about. At least, not the first bit.
‘You were wonderfully brave to carry on here,’ Sebastian said. ‘And just imagine how much poorer my life would be without you in it.’
Dahlia flushed and giggled. ‘Oh, you British guys are all the same – always know just what to say to flatter a girl; always such a beautiful way with words.’
‘You wouldn’t say that if you’d ever met some of the guys I know,’ Isla said darkly. ‘Unless your idea of a beautiful way with words is: get your coat, you’ve pulled!’
While Dahlia laughed, Sebastian looked genuinely confused.
‘I’ve never said that to a girl,’ he exclaimed, looking deeply wounded.
Isla found herself wanting to laugh now too. Looking at him with his dippy bow tie and ridiculous argyle tank top, she didn’t doubt for a minute that he’d never said anything like that to a girl. He probably wrote them love poetry or long letters of flowery prose and took them to art galleries and foreign language films. Or else proclaimed words of affection under the dome of a planetarium as the stars whirled above them. Or wrote complex equations that described the beauty of his love for whoever the lucky cow was. What sort of girl dated a man like him? Did any girl date a man like him? Sebastian was a relic, like someone had plucked him from a PG Wodehouse novel and dropped him into the twenty-first century. Even his name sounded like something from a bygone era and Isla couldn’t quite decide if it was faintly ludicrous or the coolest thing ever.
‘You’ve clearly never been to the sort of clubs I’ve been to then,’ she said. ‘Not that I’m recommending them in any way. Full of tossers.’
‘Tossers?’ Dahlia asked, looking puzzled.
Now Isla did burst out laughing. ‘It’s English slang,’ she said once she’d managed to catch her breath. ‘It means… well, we won’t go into the literal meaning but it’s what you might call a douchebag… you know, a lowlife.’
‘Oh…’ Dahlia nodded sagely. ‘I get it. Most of the people who live here are good types so I’m lucky not to run into too many of those.’
‘Then you’re lucky indeed.’ Isla turned to Sebastian. Now that her low mood was beginning to lift, for the first time since she’d arrived in St Martin she was enjoying herself. Truly enjoying herself without the threads of worry and angst that the reasons for her visit wove into her mood. ‘So, you’re being very cagey about your research, and I think we know each other well enough that I can ask. What exactly is it you’re doing here?’
‘I’m studying glaciers and snow,’ he said, and Isla thought she caught the hint of a blush. ‘I mean, that’s what I do. I’m a glaciologist.’
‘That’s cool!’ She leaned forward and smiled. ‘I have no idea why anyone would need to study them and I didn’t even know it was an actual job, but it sounds very impressive.’
Perhaps he wasn’t used to getting this sort of reaction, because for a moment he seemed uncertain and surprised, but then he gave a small smile and sat a little taller on his stool. Then Isla glanced at Dahlia and saw the expression that she imagined Sebastian usually got when he told people about his glaciers, because she just looked blank.
‘There’s a lot more to it than people imagine,’ he said, clearly buoyed by Isla’s interest.
‘Like what?’ she asked, and from the corner of her eye she noted Dahlia drifting off to do something at the other end of the bar. Most people she knew would probably do the same, but the most unexpected things often piqued Isla’s interest and she was in the perfect mood to be distracted by something, or someone, who didn’t constantly remind her of Ian. She took a long pull at the bottle of beer, never moving her expectant gaze from Sebastian.
‘Oh.’ He flushed again and dropped his eyes to the floor. ‘It’s all very technical and probably boring if you’re not into it. Mostly lots of measurements and sample-taking. I spend a lot of time just staring at snow and ice.’
‘I’m sure I can understand some of it if you try,’ Isla insisted. ‘And I might be into it if you gave me a chance.’
He looked up and his expression flickered into life, as if some internal flame had just been lit. ‘Really?’ he asked. ‘You’re really interested?’
‘I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t.’
Sebastian broke into a broad, grateful smile, and then he began – bombarding Isla with terms like ablation, fracture, stratification, moraines and drumlins, he explained about the different disciplines like meteorology and ecology, geology and geography, and how glaciers came in many different shapes and sizes. He talked about how he hoped, one day, to study in Antarctica if he could get the funding and how in the future it might even be possible for study on the ice caps of Mars. As he spoke he became more animated and more hopelessly enthusiastic, like a boy with his first train set. There was something so captivating about it that, even though Isla didn’t have a clue what most of it meant, it was difficult not to get swept up in his fervour. This was true geekdom and it was infectious in a way that Isla completely understood. Because, while she often played it cool, there was a small part of her that revelled in that kind of obsession too. It was how she’d approached her own studies back home, and why she was on course to get a fantastic grade in her final exams, even though she’d never say so for fear of looking boastful.
He stopped for a moment to draw breath and they both seemed to realise, at the same time, that while they’d been talking the bar had slowly been filling up. There was now barely a chair left unoccupied and the room was filled with laughter and gossip. Sebastian looked around, surprised to see the transformation, as if he’d been dropped into a parallel universe and couldn’t figure out how he’d got there. And he blushed again as his gaze turned back on Isla.
‘Sorry,’ he said, fiddling with his tie. ‘You must wish you’d never asked.’
‘Not at all – it’s fascinating. You want another beer?’ She nodded at his empty bottle.
‘If I have another beer I might move on to geomorphology, and you really don’t want that.’
‘I might.’ Isla smiled. ‘Let’s give it a try.’
He was silent for a moment, gazing earnestly at her as if sizing her up, his cheeks now flushed from the beer and his excitement rather than the cold. ‘I could do better than talk to you about it. I could show you?’
Isla held back a frown. ‘Show me a glacier?’
‘The Péclet glacier is a bit of a drive, and obviously it would involve a little hiking, but it’s doable, if you wanted to go and see.’
‘We can walk on it?’
‘Yes.’
‘But…’ This was all suddenly real. Chatting with an interesting man to distract herself was one thing, but going up to a glacier with him?
‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘That was very forward of me and of course you wouldn’t want to…’
�
�I mean, I’m sure it’s amazing,’ Isla said, feeling awkward and guilty and wishing she hadn’t led him on quite as much as she now realised she had. ‘It’s just that I don’t think I’ll have time…’
‘Of course.’ He shook his head forcefully. ‘I quite understand. Please forget I mentioned it.’
‘I’m sorry. I mean, any other time I’m sure it would be amazing but…’
‘I shouldn’t have asked. Please don’t apologise; it’s completely my fault.’
They were silent again, the space between them filled with the conversations and laughter of the room while Isla supped at her bottle of beer, now wanting to drink it as fast as was practical without getting drunk. From the way Sebastian was attacking his, he was trying to achieve the same thing. It was a close race, but he won, and he sat his bottle back on the bar with a tight smile that was a world away from the warm enthusiasm of only five minutes before.
‘It’s late and I have another early start tomorrow,’ he announced. ‘I should…’
‘Me too,’ Isla said, feigning tiredness. Perhaps, she reflected ruefully, it was for the best though. She’d gone and done it again – ruined a perfectly nice evening by saying and doing the wrong thing. She’d encouraged him when she shouldn’t have, and it was her fault he’d been emboldened enough to ask her out. Sebastian was cute and she supposed that some girls might have found his foppish, hot-nerd-mad-professor guise wildly attractive, but it wasn’t for her at all.
He stood up, and the smile still plastered to his face looked more desperate than before. He was trying very hard not to let it crack.
‘It’s been a lovely evening, Isla,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’
‘God, no… thank you!’ she said, a little too fervently. Followed by a smile that was just a little too bright and wide and almost as desperate looking as his was. If someone had looked up the word mortification in that great big virtual dictionary of life, they would have found an A4 picture of her face. ‘I’ve really enjoyed our chat. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Isla.’ He nodded once more and made his way out of the bar without another word.
CHAPTER NINE
Isla was about to head up to her room when Dahlia came over and sat next to her with a long sigh.
‘These old legs don’t hold me up the way they used to.’
‘You need some help around the place,’ Isla said. ‘I only ever see you working here. Do you have staff?’
‘Of course I do!’ Dahlia laughed. ‘Mostly doing the invisible jobs people don’t think about. But I don’t have the money to hire too many folks and the place is small so I can manage on a tiny crew. It’s pretty seasonal work too so at times I have more help than at others, depending on how many guests I have booked in.’
‘It must be hard work running this place.’
‘It is, but I love it and I wouldn’t do anything else. For a start, with so many interesting visitors I never get bored. I have breathtaking mountain scenery in my back yard, incredible wildlife strolling through the town and white Christmases every year. Why would I need anything else?’
‘When you say it like that it does sound idyllic,’ Isla mused with a faint smile. ‘Perhaps I ought to offer my services.’
Dahlia patted her on the hand. ‘You’d be welcome any time.’ She paused, seeming to appraise Isla more carefully before she spoke again. ‘You know, if you ever want to talk about anything I’ll always spare a minute to listen.’
Isla had the feeling that, after the drama of earlier when she’d run out of the restaurant and been chased up by Justin, she’d become Dahlia’s pet project. She couldn’t blame the old lady for being intrigued, she supposed, and she’d probably be the same in her shoes. But she also realised that Dahlia had a sweet, kind soul, and she genuinely wanted to reach out. ‘Thank you; that’s good to know.’
Dahlia nodded. ‘You seem perkier after your drink with Sebastian. He’s a nice boy.’
‘He seems it,’ Isla replied carefully.
‘So clever. Sweet too. His mamma must be so proud of him. He’s stayed with us a couple of times now – never a bit of bother and always buys me a gift when he checks out.’
‘Does he? Wow, that’s lovely.’
‘Oh yes. And one time he took me out to the glacier to show me his research. I didn’t understand a thing he was saying, but it was a wonderful day. Even took me to lunch afterwards. Most people wouldn’t have much time to spare for an old lady like me. Such a sweet boy.’
Isla was silent as she held in a groan. How badly could she have misread the situation? Of course Seb hadn’t been trying to get off with her. He’d been offering the hand of genuine friendship, just like he had with Dahlia. He was just a regular, lovely bloke who was so passionate about what he did that he loved to share it with anyone who took a passing interest. Now she felt worse than ever for turning him down. She cursed herself. Perhaps she needed to start taking people at face value a little more instead of living in a constant state of suspicion. Through the years her friends had told her as much, and even as they both approached the back end of their twenties Dodie sometimes had to remind her every now and again that not everyone was out to trip her up.
Perhaps coming to France was no coincidence – perhaps it was part of fate’s plan to help her take a new path. Perhaps everything began and ended with her father; he’d started the rot, but maybe he could halt it too, if only she could trust his motives.
She took a deep breath. Perhaps the first step was opening up to Dahlia now. It was as good a place to start as any and if there was any judging to be done, at least Isla didn’t have to stick around past the end of the week to be on the receiving end of it. She badly needed to sound off about her dad and sometimes talking to someone who was completely neutral was a good thing – or so people said. She opened her mouth, was about to begin, when Dahlia almost leapt from her stool.
‘Well,’ she announced airily, ‘I guess I’d better get back to work. This place won’t run itself.’
Isla clamped her mouth shut again. Just like always, she’d held back, hesitated too long, and the opportunity had passed her by. Of course it had. Why change the habit of a lifetime?
The following morning started with a phone call from her father, and this time she picked up.
‘Ian. I suppose you’re going to say we need to talk.’
She could almost hear him wince at the other end of the line. ‘Isla, I know that it looks bad. You think I’m out to get my money and I’m not going to deny that it matters to me. In fact, it would make a huge difference to our lives here in St Martin… might even be the difference between being able to stay and having to sell up and live somewhere cheaper. But that doesn’t matter to you, and I realise that. I have no right to ask you to care what happens to me and Celine and the kids. And I know you won’t believe this but I care about what you stand to gain from this too, and I seriously think you should consider what you’re throwing away. You don’t trust me – hell, you almost certainly don’t owe me any love or loyalty – but I truly think you’d regret any decision to turn your back on your inheritance. And though you don’t have to believe anything I say, I hope too that I might be able to make you see I’m sorry for all the years you lived without me. I can’t make that up to you, no matter how long I try, but I’d like it if we could at least make a start.’
‘I don’t know,’ Isla said. ‘I don’t know if I’m strong enough to cope if you let me down again.’
‘I won’t let you down again.’
‘How can I know that? How can you even know that? Let me ask you this: when you first got together with my mum did you intend to run out on her? When she gave birth to me did you look down into my cot and think to yourself that you wanted to leave me fatherless for the best part of my life?’
‘Of course not, but—’
‘That’s what I’m saying. You don’t even have any control over it yourself. You say you want to make it work, but that’s until the next event changes your mind.
’
‘I tried to stay in touch and your mum—’
‘Don’t you dare blame her! Whatever it is you think you did, you obviously didn’t try hard enough. Mum’s life ended when you left. She had hopes and dreams and you took all those with you, and she was left with a kid and a mountain of debt while you ran away across the globe to start another family. And before you start, I don’t even want an explanation because whatever you say will never excuse what you did and it will only make me angry again. So please, spare me the details. If I say yes to the inheritance it’s not because I forgive you or because I want you to be my dad again, it’s purely mercenary. Do you understand?’
There was silence. ‘Isla, I—’
‘I hope that’s not the beginning of an explanation,’ she cut in. ‘I mean what I say. I don’t want to get close to you and I’m not even saying a definite yes to the inheritance yet. I’m saying that I’m willing to give it some more thought.’
There was another pause. ‘You know where to get hold of me when you’re ready,’ he said finally. ‘And for the record, Celine really liked you. Until you took off that is.’
That was one vibe Isla hadn’t got from any of her stepfamily. Perhaps her state of mind at the time had blinded her to the signals. ‘Is there a time limit on this? A cut-off date or something?’
‘I don’t know. But I suppose you’ll be going home soon, so it’s going to be very difficult to start any sort of meaningful relationship when you do.’
Meaningful relationship. It was hard to know what he expected that to be and even harder to pretend it was a realistic possibility. She had to keep reminding herself of the promise she’d silently made the night before to start opening up a little. But it was hard to break the habit of a lifetime, just like that.
‘I need a couple of days,’ she said.
‘OK, sure. Whatever you want. Like I said, you have my number so call me when you’re ready.’
A Cosy Candlelit Christmas: A wonderfully festive feel good romance (An Unforgettable Christmas Book 2) Page 8
