‘You do not. Anyway, it’s okay to be nervous,’ Nessie said. ‘But try not to let it get the better of you. This is just the first step.’
The other woman stared at her for a moment, then seemed to pull herself together. ‘You’re right. And look, there’s a mobile phone number – will you text him to say I’m looking forward to seeing him?’
Nessie gazed at her in puzzlement. ‘Of course I will, but you can text him yourself if you’d rather?’
Ruby held out her hands and Nessie saw they were shaking. ‘You know, I don’t think I can,’ she said. ‘Be a darling and do it, please.’
Pulling out her phone, Nessie sent a message to Cal. Then she saw she’d somehow missed a call and a message from Sam. ‘Oh,’ she said, reading the message. ‘Sam says we didn’t win Pub of the Year.’
Ruby was reading the letter again. ‘Hmmm?’ she said, without looking up. ‘Oh well, there’s always next year. Now, what do you wear to meet the son you thought you’d lost?’
Sam found herself seeing Joss through new eyes as they drove back from London. Thoughts swirled around her head; she’d wanted to ask him if he’d spent the night alone but couldn’t think of a way to do it without sounding like a jealous ex. Thankfully, he’d eventually described dodging Melanie and escaping back to his room in a way that made Sam certain he’d been on his own. She’d also been tempted to ask him about the RAD nomination but something stopped her. Instead, she concentrated on the road, listening to him talk, and the closer she got to Little Monkham, the more relaxed and at ease she felt. As much as she enjoyed visiting London, it wasn’t her home any more; the Star and Sixpence was. And that was going to be a problem when Nick arrived back from filming, expecting an answer. One of several problems, she thought, her gaze sliding briefly towards Joss.
She pulled up outside his flat and let the engine idle. ‘Thanks for keeping me company,’ she said. ‘Losing was a lot easier with you there.’
Joss shrugged. ‘You should never have lost at all. And you kept me safe from the dreaded Melanie so I reckon we’re even.’
Sam studied him for a moment, then held out a hand. ‘Friends?’
He hesitated, then took it. ‘Friends.’
He stared into her eyes, his fingers still warm on hers, then smiled and let go. He cranked the door handle to get out. ‘See you soon, Sam.’
‘See you,’ she repeated as he slammed the door and walked to the entrance.
She sat there for a moment, waiting for her thudding heart rate to slow down. For a fraction of a second, she’d thought Joss would pull her close to kiss her. And for another fraction of a second, she’d really hoped he would.
Nessie greeted Sam with a hug.
‘I’m so sorry you had to go through it on your own,’ she said, taking her bag and leading her behind the bar. ‘I wish I could have been there.’
Sam hesitated. ‘Well, I wasn’t exactly—’
Nessie shook her head. ‘Maybe not technically but a room full of strangers doesn’t count as company.’
‘No, but—’
‘Who did win?’ Nessie asked.
Sam followed her up the stairs and into the living room. ‘The Three Horseshoes in Hertfordshire,’ she said. ‘Joss said we were robbed.’
‘Joss?’ Nessie said, frowning. ‘How would he know?’
Sam took a deep breath. ‘He came with me. I bumped into him yesterday as I was leaving, and he said he wasn’t busy, so we went together.’
‘Sam!’
‘I know what it sounds like but nothing happened,’ Sam said, holding up her hands. ‘It was all business-like and above board.’
Her sister stared at her, then shook her head. ‘I can’t believe you sometimes. After the way he treated you . . . Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because I knew you wouldn’t approve.’ Sam tipped her head. ‘Would it help if I told you it was Joss who nominated us for the regional award?’
Nessie’s eyebrows shot up again. ‘Really? When?’
‘After we split up, apparently.’ She eyed her sister in satisfaction. ‘So we have him to thank for our award-winning status. Not that he knows that I know, of course – nominations are meant to be top secret.’
‘I won’t ask how you know,’ Nessie said, rubbing her face. ‘But it was a lovely thing for him to do, in the circumstances. I didn’t think he had the maturity, not after the way he flew off the handle over Will Pargeter.’
‘Me either,’ Sam admitted. ‘Maybe we misjudged him.’
Nessie looked at her closely then, her eyes slightly narrowed. ‘Is that affection I hear in your voice?’
‘No, of course not,’ Sam snapped. Then she relented. ‘Maybe. A bit.’
Her sister groaned. ‘Oh Sam, you do like to make things complicated. How does Joss feel?’
Sam sighed. ‘I have absolutely no idea.’
‘And what about Nick?’
‘I don’t know,’ Sam said, slumping onto the sofa. ‘We’re talking tonight – maybe I’m just missing him.’
Nessie eyed her shrewdly. ‘Or maybe you’ve never really got over Joss.’ She took Sam’s hand. ‘Look, don’t make any hasty decisions. Speak to Nick tonight and see how you feel tomorrow.’
It was good advice, Sam realised. And perhaps it was simply a case of missing Nick – six weeks was a long time to be apart, after all. One thing she was sure of was that she didn’t want to move to London; her home was in Little Monkham now. If she and Nick were going to make a go of things, they’d have to do it at a distance.
‘Okay,’ she said to Nessie, managing a tired smile. ‘How was your evening, anyway? Did you enjoy the surprise staff member I arranged for you?’
Nessie didn’t smile back. ‘He was very helpful, thanks.’
Sam waited, hoping for a sign that her sister and Owen had grown closer as they worked together, but Nessie remained tight-lipped.
‘Oh,’ Sam said, frowning. ‘Well, that’s good. And the two of you didn’t . . .’
‘We’re still on a break, if that’s what you mean?’ Nessie replied stiffly. She stood up and headed for the door. ‘One that looks very much like becoming permanent.’
She was gone before Sam could ask her what she meant. She stared after her sister, more certain than ever that the source of Owen and Nessie’s problems was Gweneth. And she was even more determined to get to the bottom of it and put things right. Just as soon as she fixed her own love life.
It was eleven-thirty in the evening by the time Sam managed to video-call Nick.
‘Hey,’ he said, his face splitting into a trademark Borrowdale smile. ‘How are you?’
‘Tired,’ she admitted. ‘It was the Pub of the Year awards last night and it turned into a late one.’
‘You don’t look tired,’ Nick said, ‘you look gorgeous, as always. Tell me all about the awards – was it wall-to-wall beards?’
She laughed. ‘Not exactly. It was surprisingly glamorous, actually. But boy, those guys can drink. They almost put City bankers to shame.’
‘I bet. Did you win?’
‘No, but that’s okay.’ She squinted at the screen of her phone. ‘You’re even more tanned than you were last time we spoke – if I didn’t know better I’d say you were on holiday instead of working.’
He let out a dramatic sigh. ‘What can I tell you – this role demands a tan. Obviously it’s been a struggle . . .’
Sam listened as he described the scenes he’d been filming that day; for all his jokes, the schedule sounded gruelling. ‘And there’s still more to do. I’m sorry, Sam but it looks like I’ll be stuck out here longer than I expected. I might not make it back in time for Christmas.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Sam told him. ‘I plan to spend most of Christmas Day asleep. You won’t be missing anything.’
Nick frowned. ‘Apart from being right next to you, obviously.’ He paused. ‘Have you thought any more about moving back to London?’
Here it is, Sam thought unhappily, the m
oment I’ve been dreading. ‘Yes, I have, and I think I’m going to say no, Nick.’
His face fell and Sam pushed on. ‘Things have been crazy busy here – business is booming and there’s a lot to look forward to. I really think my future is at the Star and Sixpence with Ness, not in London. She needs me.’
‘Duty isn’t a good enough reason to turn your back on everything you know, Sam,’ Nick replied.
‘I’m not!’ Sam said, stung by the words. ‘In fact, I’m doing the opposite. Everything I know and love is in Little Monkham these days. I know you think I can rebuild my career in London but – well, I’m not sure I even want to. I like it here.’
There was a silence as Nick processed the information she’d just given him. ‘Then we have a problem.’
‘I know.’
‘I don’t think I can move to Little Monkham,’ Nick went on. ‘What if I get called to an audition at short notice, or need to call into the agency offices to sign some paperwork?’
Sam shook her head. ‘I don’t expect you to move here.’
‘Then what do you expect, Sam?’ There was a hint of frustration behind Nick’s words. ‘Because I’ve got to be honest, a long-distance relationship where we see each other once every six weeks isn’t what I want.’
‘But you said yourself, you’re not going to be in London much,’ Sam pointed out. ‘So I’ll be on my own, in a place I don’t want to be, twiddling my thumbs until you come back. That’s not going to work either.’
Nick was silent.
‘Maybe this is a conversation we should have face to face,’ Sam said with a sigh. ‘When do you think they’ll wrap things up there?’
He puffed out his cheeks. ‘I have no idea. Mum and Dad are complaining that I’ve forgotten where they live so if filming finishes before Christmas then I’ll probably head straight to their house. Which means—’
‘Which means I won’t get to see you until New Year’s Eve,’ Sam finished. ‘I don’t mind that – really, I don’t – but I would if we were living together.’
‘You could come to see my parents with me,’ Nick said, frowning. ‘Then we’d be in the same place.’
Sam groaned. ‘Which would mean I’d miss Christmas dinner with Nessie and Ruby. And there’s the Festive Fayre on the village green on Christmas Eve – I need to be here for that.’
‘Relationships are all about compromise, Sam.’
Something about his tone grated on Sam’s nerves. ‘But that compromise should be a mutual thing,’ she said in exasperation. ‘At the moment, it seems to be just me giving things up. And the thing that I can’t – won’t – give up is my sister and the Star and Sixpence.’
Nick gazed at her in silence, his expression every bit as brooding as his alter-ego on Smugglers’ Inn. ‘So we go back to how things were – fitting in visits where we can.’
Sam stared at the screen, hardly able to believe what she was about to say. ‘No.’
His expression became still. ‘No?’
Heart thudding with adrenaline, Sam forced herself to speak. ‘I don’t think we can go back – it’s out there now.’
‘Sam—’ Nick began but she kept talking.
‘No, don’t interrupt. This is hard enough.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Look, we fell into this relationship because it was fun and it suited us both – I’ll always be grateful to you for helping me to recover from what happened with Will. But it obviously doesn’t suit us now – not if we’re arguing over it. It’s time to face the truth, Nick – we want different things.’
Nick watched her with miserable eyes. ‘You’re wrong. All I want is you.’
‘No, you want the old Sam,’ she said softly. ‘The party girl who loved London – PR to the stars. I’m not that girl any more. I’ve outgrown her.’
His pain was almost palpable. ‘So what – we’re breaking up?’
The words hit Sam like a punch to the gut and she felt a hot ache in her throat. ‘I – I suppose we are.’
Nick didn’t reply immediately. His eyes were fixed on something Sam couldn’t see, away from the camera. When he did speak, he sounded so sad that Sam wanted to reach through the screen to give him a hug. ‘I knew it was too good to be true – us, I mean. I knew it couldn’t last.’
She understood what he meant – it had been perfect as a fling, as long as they both kept things light-hearted. But as much as Sam loved being with Nick, she knew their relationship was never destined to become serious; as painful as breaking up was, it also felt right. ‘You don’t hate me, do you?’
He threw her an incredulous look. ‘Hate you? How could I hate you – you’re one of my best friends.’
Tears filled Sam’s eyes. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t bear it if you did.’
‘I can’t say that I’m happy and I might need a bit of time, but I’ll get over it.’ He sighed. ‘This insane filming schedule should help with that.’
The lump in Sam’s throat grew harder and more painful as she said goodbye and got ready for bed. Had she known, deep down, what was going to happen? She didn’t think so; now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she felt empty and exhausted. It felt strange, knowing she was single again; no matter how much her head told her it was the right thing, her heart was harder to convince. It missed Nick already, even though he was on the other side of the world. But there was no going back – her head was certain of that. In time, they would be close again but they were no longer lovers.
Her eyes burned with the effort of not crying as she got ready for bed. It wasn’t until she’d switched off the light and let the comforting darkness wrap around her that she let her tears begin to flow.
Sam knew something was wrong the moment she stepped into Weir Cottage on Monday morning. The air was usually filled with the scent of coffee – this morning it held the faint sour tang of juniper berries. At first glance, Ruby looked the same as ever, until Sam’s suspicious gaze met hers and she saw the slight glaze.
‘Ruby,’ she said, fighting to keep her voice even. ‘Have you been drinking?’
The older woman shook her head, a little too hard and a little too long. ‘No.’
Sam stared at her. ‘You have, haven’t you?’ She sniffed the air. ‘Gin.’
Ruby glowered at her, raising her chin in defiance. ‘Fine. If it makes you feel better then yes, I have had a small drink this morning. Just to calm my nerves about seeing Cal again.’ She stepped back and stumbled into the table in the hallway. ‘Whoops.’
Sam felt dismay wash over her; it didn’t seem like a small drink to her. How could she take Ruby to meet her son – the son who’d cut all contact with his mother over her unhealthy relationship with alcohol – when she stank of gin? It was obvious she’d been drinking and once Cal realised she hadn’t changed at all, Ruby’s second chance would be over before it had begun.
‘Oh, Ruby,’ she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and bringing up Nessie’s number. ‘You can’t go and meet Cal like this. I’ll ask Nessie to rearrange it.’
Ruby raised an unsteady finger and waved it in Sam’s face. ‘You’ve got no right.’
‘I’m afraid I do,’ Sam said, easing past Ruby to find the source of her downfall. ‘Nessie and I are your cheerleaders – we might be tough but we care about you and that’s why we want to help you.’
She soon found the tell-tale bottle of gin, hidden in the breadbasket. ‘Where did you get this?’ she demanded. ‘I thought you’d given Nessie all the alcohol in the house?’
Ruby reached into her handbag and pulled out a shiny silver hipflask. ‘That’s my business, not yours.’
‘Ruby!’ Sam repeated, shocked. She snatched the flask from Ruby’s hands. ‘Have you forgotten what the doctors said? If you keep drinking, you’ll die.’
The other woman pursed her scarlet lips. ‘Nonsense – a little of what you fancy does you good. So give me my drink back.’
Sam refused. Instead, she marched into the kitchen and poured the contents of both t
he gin bottle and the hipflask down the sink. Then she sat at the kitchen table and stared meaningfully at Ruby. ‘I know you’re scared about seeing Cal again but alcohol isn’t the answer.’
‘Lighten up, Sam. It was just a small one to loosen my nerves.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ Sam said. ‘You’re unsteady on your feet, which means you’ve had more than one, and you know how it works, anyway – one is never enough. How much have you really had?’
Ruby looked away. ‘I don’t need a lecture, darling. Cancel the meeting if you must but spare me the holier-than-thou attitude.’
Sam got up. ‘Look at me, Ruby,’ she said, taking the other woman’s hands and waiting until her unfocused gaze drifted towards her. ‘I don’t mean to lecture you – I’m worried, that’s all. You’ve worked so hard to stop drinking and I don’t want you to slip back into its clutches.’
For a moment, Sam saw a flash of sober Ruby, the woman who understood that alcohol was her enemy. She pressed home her advantage. ‘Nessie and I love you, so do all your friends in Little Monkham – we want to help you. But if you want to see Cal then you have to do it sober.’ She paused. ‘You have to decide what’s more important – seeing your son again, or having another drink.’
Ruby’s gaze skittered away and Sam guessed she was battling an old adversary, one that was telling her Sam was lying; that alcohol only made her stronger, braver, smarter – a better version of herself. Seconds ticked by and turned into minutes. Sam waited, knowing the decision had to come from Ruby.
When Ruby spoke, her voice was subdued. ‘Would you send Cal a message, please, darling? See if he can manage another day? I – I’m not quite myself this morning.’
Sam almost sagged with relief. ‘Of course,’ she said, taking both Ruby’s hands and squeezing them with love. ‘I’m sure he’ll understand.’
Ruby looked at her then and Sam saw her eyes were bright with tears. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Oh Ruby, there’s nothing to be sorry for,’ Sam said, gathering her into a hug. ‘This is a hard path to walk. But you’re not walking it alone – we’re right beside you.’
Christmas at the Star and Sixpence Page 7
