‘Can’t see that far,’ said Eve.
‘Great big tall bloke with a cowboy hat on. Hang on, it’s one of those Australian things with all the corks dangling off it. All the builders are crowded round him.’
Eve’s heart stopped in her chest for a beat. No, it couldn’t possibly be. Her pace accelerated so much that Myfanwy couldn’t keep up.
‘Hey missus, look who it is,’ called one of the Welsh lads. And the big tall man turned around – and it was him in yet another silly hat. He grinned and his blue, blue eyes sparkled against his antipodean tan.
Eve felt her heart thump against her chest wall as if it was making a bid for freedom, though her legs suddenly glued themselves to the spot. She couldn’t move, even her breathing seemed to stop.
‘Well, there you are,’ he said in an exaggerated Aussie accent. ‘Long time, no see, Sheila.’
‘You’re telling me,’ she managed on the little remaining breath she had inside.
She had mentally rehearsed what she would do if she ever saw him again. She saw herself running up to him, throwing herself around his neck and raining kisses on his cheek, but now he was actually here in the flesh, all she could do was stand there and not breathe.
‘I came back to see my girl,’ he said, then added, ‘Holly.’
‘Ah,’ said Eve.
‘It’s the antlers. I love a woman with antlers.’
‘I’ll try and grow some.’ Her mouth wanted to grin, so she let it.
‘You could do anything you set your heart on, Eve Douglas.’
Jacques made ‘see you later boys’ noises at the builders, then he held out his big hand towards Eve. ‘Take a walk with me, missus.’
She moved slowly towards him, his hand curled around her own and together they fell into a slow stride.
‘A postcard would have been nice,’ she said, as they headed for the heart of the enchanted forest.
‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder,’ said Jacques, his grin equally as wide as hers had grown.
‘Out of sight, out of mind,’ parried Eve.
‘Never thought of that one,’ chuckled Jacques. ‘Have I been out of your mind then?’
‘No.’
Jacques stopped. ‘No? Is that all I get? I don’t know. I come back to marry you and that’s the extent of your declaration of affection for me.’ And he carried on walking, tugging Eve forward when her legs stopped moving.
‘You’re unbelievable,’ said Eve. ‘I never thought I’d see you again.’
‘I told you I would marry you on our very first meeting. An officer and a gentleman never breaks his word, you should have known that.’
‘Well, I didn’t.’ Her tears began to fall, happy tears full of relief.
‘Ah, you’re sounding snotty again. I thought I’d come and book your wedding chapel. I’ve seen on the internet that it’s been a big hit. I saw the grand opening on YouTube too – it looked fantastic’
‘Yes, it was perfect. Well, it would have been but something was missing.’
‘Me?’
‘A hotdog kiosk.’
Jacques threw back his head and laughed. The sound filled the forest. My God, how she had missed that ridiculously loud, annoying, rich-as-a-Christmas-cake boom of a laugh.
He was leading her towards a circular bench which had been fitted around one of the tree trunks. There was a brass plaque on it which read, ‘In memory of Christopher, the biggest, best and most beautiful snow pony in the world.’
‘Anyway it’s ‘our’ wedding chapel. You might have made a letter of intent, Jacques, but I never accepted it. That would be going against Aunt Evelyn’s wishes, so any profits due to you have been banked separately. Don’t buy a penthouse yet, though. This is one big, expensive place to run. We’re opening up a Christmas tree farm this November, which should up our income. We’ve planted acres more. And we’re extending Santapark.’
Jacques sat down. ‘I hear you don’t charge entrance fees for families of the military still.’
‘No,’ said Eve, sitting beside him.
‘Any plans to end that?’
‘No.’
He smiled a smile that reached right up to his blue eyes. ‘Do you say no to everything?’
‘No.’ Eve’s eyes began to twinkle too, like the little lamps hung between the trees.
Jacques put his hand on her cheek. It felt so soft. She looked soft. Her hair was loose and long around her shoulders and his fingers strayed to it. He had thought of this moment so many times, wondered how long he should leave it before returning. Gambling that she would miss him, think of him, have space in her heart for him at last.
‘Dear Eve,’ he said. ‘You look beautiful with your Christmas tree eyes. Should I ever leave you again?’
‘No,’ she said, her mouth a smiling arc that wanted his placed upon it. Now.
‘If I tried to kiss you, would you push me off?’
‘No.’
‘Do I need mistletoe in order to do that?’
‘No,’ she replied, and watched his mouth slowly and tantalizingly descend upon hers. As their lips touched, she felt him shift into the place in her heart which was ready and open for him with Jonathan’s blessing. His kiss was like the best Christmases ahead of her, waiting for her to enjoy, all come at once.
Sometimes our light goes out but is blown into flame by another human being. Each of us owes deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this light.
Albert Schweitzer
Acknowledgements
As always a massive thank-you to the team at Simon & Schuster for their support, affection, kindness – and patience: Suzanne Baboneau, Ian Chapman, Nigel Stoneman, Maxine Hitchcock, Clare Hey, S-J, Ally, Dawn, Rumana, Georgina . . . everyone there. And to my darling agent Lizzy Kremer. It’s always a bonus when you feel the people you work with are your friends too.
Thanks to my little son George for all the coffees whilst I was working – and to my big son Terence for setting up all the gadgets. What would I do without either of you?
Diolch o gallon i Owen Williams who has been an ‘effin’ godsend. I’m sorry I made you translate so much filth, Owen – especially as I rather enjoyed doing so.
Thanks to Yummy Yorkshire (www.yummyyorkshire.co.uk) for the ice-cream flavours inspiration. The current size of my bottom is your fault.
Thanks to dashing Major Dan Jarvis MP for being both an officer and a gentleman and helping me with the military detail.
Thanks to my Come Dine With Me friend ‘Party Paul’ Hoyle – for being a top bloke, and Dennis Higgs for telling me all about dear Ben the lion who really did patrol his premises, like a nice frozen sheep’s head on a warm day, go driving in the van with him and play football with a box in the yard. People can say what they like about Barnsley, but we know how to stop burglars.
And to Andrew Stenton at Billingley Christmas Tree Farm in Billingley S72 0JF ([email protected]) for helping me with Christmas tree and reindeer details and letting me pet ‘Comet’, ‘Cupid’ and their lovely baby. Sometimes research is just too good.
A Winter Flame Page 26