Mince Pies and Mistletoe at the Christmas Market

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Mince Pies and Mistletoe at the Christmas Market Page 13

by Heidi Swain


  I said my good-nights and went through to the restaurant. Just as Ben had said, Steve was dining alone and not looking as if he was enjoying the solitary experience all that much. I knew he would be loving the food, but he really wasn’t the type to relish his own company.

  ‘Ruby,’ he said, quickly standing up when he spotted me, his knees clashing with the underside of the table. ‘I think congratulations are in order!’

  ‘They are,’ I readily agreed, ‘congratulations all round. Your mum and dad’s trees and Tom’s changes to the lighting plans made all the difference, as did everyone’s efforts with the games and things. I wish the evening had been as much fun when we were younger!’

  ‘From what I can remember,’ he smiled, ‘we used to make our own entertainment. Do you remember that one night in the bandstand?’

  ‘Anyway,’ I quickly cut in, setting down the pint glass, ‘Sam got you this. I said I’d deliver it as I’m now on my way out the door.’

  ‘You’re not leaving already,’ he said, my heart lurching a little when I realised how disappointed he sounded. ‘Oh crikey,’ he added, as he checked his watch, ‘I had no idea it was so late.’

  ‘I know,’ I said, taking a step back. ‘The day has really flown by, hasn’t it?’

  ‘Don’t go just yet,’ he wheedled, pointing at the glass of cider in my hand that I still hadn’t finished. ‘At least stay long enough to finish your drink. You’ll make fast work of it, I’m sure.’

  ‘Hey!’ I said, ‘I’m not at all impressed with this growing reputation I seem to have somehow developed as the town lush.’

  Before he could deny he had played a part in starting it, Evelyn bustled over with a large bowl of steamed sponge pudding and custard.

  ‘There you go,’ she smiled, setting it down in front of him. ‘Sure you can manage it?’

  ‘Not really,’ he said, passing her his empty plate, ‘perhaps you could bring us another spoon, Evelyn. I’m going to see if I can tempt Ruby to soak up some of that alcohol she keeps drinking by sharing my pudding!’

  I knew it wasn’t the wisest move in the world given the fact that I was still, and probably always would be, hopelessly in love with him, but I plonked myself in the seat opposite and took the spoon Evelyn hastily offered nonetheless.

  ‘So,’ I said, plunging into the soft sticky sponge and throwing caution to the wind, ‘what’s the deal? How come you’re dining alone when you usually have the magnificent Mia hanging on your every word?’

  ‘You make her sound like a magician!’ Steve laughed.

  ‘Well, she might as well be,’ I muttered. ‘She always seems to manage to appear when you least expect her.’

  ‘You do know that we aren’t a couple, don’t you, Ruby?’ he frowned.

  This was unexpected news indeed and I’m ashamed to admit that even after everything she’d said and after everything I’d witnessed between them suggesting the opposite was in fact the case, my heart gave an extra quick thump in the hope that he was telling the truth. Suddenly I was back to dreaming about what I had been trying to deny myself ever since I clapped eyes on him in the churchyard.

  If there really was an open spot in Steve’s heart then perhaps I should consider taking up residence again and this time for good. I had no idea how rekindling our romance would fit with my plans to travel, but perhaps Chris and Marie would be willing to let him come with me for a while, given that he was such a loyal and dutiful son. Perhaps we should just give in to the inevitable; perhaps we should try again. Our journey home in Paul’s car was proof enough that there really was still a spark between us and that it wasn’t just burning in my heart.

  ‘You look like a couple,’ I said, wanting to be completely sure I had all the proof I needed before I let my guard down and showed my hand, ‘and given what she told me and the way she drapes herself around you and buys you goodies to keep your hands warm, I’m sure everyone else thinks you look like a couple too!’

  ‘Well, we aren’t,’ he said firmly. ‘I don’t know what she told you and even though I’m sure she’d love it if we were together, we’re not and we never will be for that matter. I’m just not interested.’

  ‘So what’s the deal,’ I cajoled, ‘more of a friends with benefits set-up, is it? Because if it is, you should really make sure she understands that, you know. It’s only fair she knows that she’ll never be anything more than another notch on the Steve Dempster bedpost. Assuming that is what she is, of course?’

  ‘If you’d asked me that a couple of weeks ago I probably would have said yes because it was certainly heading that way, but not now. I don’t know why I’m telling you, of all people, but I haven’t even tried to get her into bed.’

  ‘Don’t tell me you don’t find her attractive!’ I laughed.

  That really would be unbelievable.

  ‘I wouldn’t say that exactly,’ he smiled, ‘I’m not blind.’

  ‘Then what?’ I pushed, trying to keep the conversation flowing and convince myself that I was about to do the right thing rather than make a complete fool of myself.

  ‘Like I said, I’m just not interested in her,’ he shrugged. ‘Things have changed.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘What’s changed?’

  ‘You’ve come back,’ he said huskily.

  My heart gave an extra hard thud in my chest.

  ‘And what difference has that made?’ I swallowed, desperate not to let him see the impact those three little words had made.

  He took a deep breath and reached across the table for my hand.

  ‘It’s made me not want to put another single notch on my bedpost for a start,’ he smiled.

  ‘I’m not awfully sure,’ I said, finally daring to look up and lose myself in his gaze, ‘if that’s a compliment or not.’

  ‘Oh, you know what I mean,’ he said. ‘I’ve never been good with finding the right words; you of all people know that better than anyone.’

  I smiled, but didn’t say anything.

  ‘But now of course it’s complicated,’ he said, entwining his fingers with mine and sending shivers coursing deep through my stomach and beyond, ‘even more complicated than before.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be,’ I said, finally feeling brave enough to give him the first real indication that I felt the same way. ‘If we really want it to be, it could be so easy.’

  ‘No,’ he said, slowly taking back his hand, ‘it couldn’t, because this isn’t just about the two of us and what we want any more, Ruby. It’s bigger than us, much bigger and runs far deeper than our relationship.’

  I had no idea what he was talking about. It didn’t make any sense.

  ‘We aren’t kids any more,’ I reminded him. ‘If we want to pick up where we were forced to leave off, then who can stop us? Who cares if our dads don’t get on? Whatever has happened between them in the past has nothing to do with us. Things are totally different now.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, sitting back in his chair, ‘things are very different indeed and up until you just said it,’ he added sadly, ‘I wasn’t sure you still had feelings for me at all.’

  ‘Well I do,’ I told him, finally daring to look at him properly, ‘I always have. I thought I’d moved on,’ I rushed blindly on, ‘but I knew as soon as I saw you in the churchyard that I’d been kidding myself.’

  Steve let out a long slow breath and pushed his dessert bowl to one side.

  ‘I really don’t see what the problem is,’ I frowned, ‘if you still have feelings for me and I still have feelings for you then there’s nothing that can alter that.’

  I stopped talking, suddenly aware that his expression had completely changed and not for the better. For a moment I felt as if I had been duped. I’d finally admitted how I was feeling and now I was going to end up looking like a fool.

  ‘My God, Ruby,’ he said, running his hands through his hair. ‘You really don’t know, do you?’

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘About what’s going to happen
to the market.’

  ‘No,’ I said, feeling frustrated. ‘I have no idea.’

  What was the point in this outpouring of emotion if he was only going to immediately throw a spanner in the works which, guessing by his change in demeanour, I imagined he was about to.

  ‘And anyway, what has the market got to do with us?’

  ‘The site is up for sale,’ he said sadly.

  I sat back in my chair, unable to think of anything constructive to say.

  ‘And if we got back together,’ he said, in a tone which did nothing to quell my fears, ‘and the sale of the site goes through, we’d be under immense pressure, what with our fathers already hating the sight of one another . . .’

  ‘Hang on,’ I cut in, feeling even more muddled. ‘Are you seriously telling me that the site the market stands on, has always stood on, is actually up for sale?’

  ‘Yes, your dad and some of his council friends are planning to sell it.’

  ‘What?’ I demanded. ‘But that’s ridiculous. I can’t believe it. If the site was for sale someone would have told me before now!’

  ‘Of course they wouldn’t,’ said Steve, shaking his head. ‘Have you forgotten who your father actually is?’

  ‘Are you saying that no one trusts me, even now, after everything I’ve done?’

  Steve shrugged.

  ‘All I know,’ he sighed, ‘is that come the New Year we’re either going to be relocated to somewhere entirely inaccessible or closed down completely.’

  ‘But that’s not possible,’ I shot back, my mind reeling. ‘I’ve never heard of anything so absurd in all my life. I don’t believe you.’

  I tried to push the words of the woman I had spoken to earlier in the evening to the back of my mind.

  ‘Dad might have got himself in a muddle over Christmas this year, but he loves this town,’ I said, determined to defend him in spite of our differences. ‘And he would never do anything to jeopardise the future of the market!’

  ‘What, like rushing through the planning approval for the Retail Park you mean?’

  He sounded suddenly more cross than conciliatory.

  ‘He thought that was what people wanted,’ I insisted, ‘and it wasn’t all down to him. Everyone in town was asked to express an opinion. He didn’t make the final decision on his own, did he?’

  ‘But he had a brand new car as soon as the first footings were dug, didn’t he?’

  Instantly I felt bile rising as I realised what he was suggesting.

  ‘Yes,’ I said as calmly as I could manage, ‘he did and all paid for with money his mother left him in her will, not that that’s any of your business! Look, Steve,’ I said throwing down my spoon and pushing back my chair, ‘I don’t know what the gossips around here are saying or what it is you’re really insinuating . . .’

  ‘I’m just trying to point out that, given the current circumstances, us getting back together wouldn’t be easy,’ he said sensibly. ‘Though not impossible . . .’

  ‘No,’ I choked. ‘Forget it. Because what you’ve just accused my dad of does make it impossible. You know, I never really believed I would ever be able to say this, but we are now, very definitely, completely and utterly over!’

  Chapter 14

  I couldn’t wait to get out of the pub and head for home. I wanted to put as much distance between myself and Steve Dempster and all the other town traders as I could, and in the quickest time possible. In something of a daze I walked back through to the bar, shakily drained my glass and put it down. I still couldn’t really believe what had just happened.

  ‘Time for another?’ pounced Jim, as he rushed over to the Skylark pump and patted it affectionately. ‘I’m sure there’s still a pint or two left in here somewhere.’

  ‘No thanks,’ I sniffed, pulling on my coat and yanking my gloves out of the pockets.

  ‘You can’t really be off already, Ruby,’ he frowned, ‘you’ve only just arrived.’

  ‘I’m ready for my bed, Jim,’ I told him, ‘and besides, your clientele leaves a bit to be desired tonight.’

  ‘You all right, love?’ he said, walking back to face me.

  His gentle face was full of concern.

  ‘Yes,’ I said huskily, willing myself not to make the situation even worse by crying. ‘Can I leave my car parked round the back tonight, Jim, please?’

  ‘But you’ve only had a half,’ he reminded me, picking up my glass. ‘You aren’t anywhere near the limit. You’ll be fine to drive.’

  ‘I could do with the walk,’ I told him, my cheeks burning. ‘I need to clear my head.’

  ‘Fair enough then, love,’ he said softly. ‘Yes, by all means leave it where it is.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll pick it up tomorrow or Monday if that’s OK.’

  ‘Whenever suits,’ he said kindly. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ I mumbled, fiddling with my coat buttons, ‘honestly I’m fine.’

  ‘Hmm,’ he said, eyeing me astutely, ‘I’ve been married long enough to know that “fine” means anything but. Why don’t you wait for Bea or some of the others? I don’t like the thought of you walking home alone.’

  ‘I’ll be OK,’ I insisted, heading over to the door as another group came in, ‘I’ll see you later.’

  The wind, which was an all too common feature of Wynbridge in winter, had picked up, and cruelly dragged the bitter ‘real feel’ temperature even lower. I pulled my hat down over my ears, blinked back the stinging tears I could only partly blame on the weather and set off along the icy pavements towards home. All I wanted to do was to crawl under the duvet and forget, even if just for a few hours, about everything that Steve, the man I had thought I was still in love with, had said.

  How was it even possible that such a special day and such a memorable and monumental evening, could be turned on its head in just a few fleeting minutes? Had he not just accused my father of corruption and goodness knows what else, we would probably have still been sitting together with our fingers entwined as we celebrated our happy ever after! But what would have happened beyond that? Surely his suspicions would have surfaced at some point and that would have been undoubtedly worse, wouldn’t it?

  As I slipped and tripped towards my longed-for bed I found myself wishing I’d never agreed to take on the Cherry Tree stall or become entangled with saving the town’s Christmas celebrations. Not only had my involvement landed me in trouble at home, it had also put my heart in the firing line all over again. And, added to all of that, of course, there was now the horrible realisation that even after everything I’d helped achieve in the last few days, my fellow stallholders still had doubts about me because of who my father happened to be. I had thought I was part of the gang now, but if that was the case then surely they would have told me about their fears for the future of the market site, wouldn’t they?

  As I turned down the road to home I threw up a little prayer in the hope that Mum and Dad would have already gone to bed and I wouldn’t have to face either of them just yet. I had everything crossed that a good night’s sleep would give me some perspective and hope because the last thing I wanted was another row with Dad. I just knew that an argument would inevitably lead to me blurting out everything that Steve had accused him of.

  This time around I needed a calm and clear head and time to think things through before I even considered whether these upsetting accusations bore any weight and were worth an airing. Surely they couldn’t be. It just wasn’t possible. Steve must have been listening to his dad bleating on when he’d had one too many and got the wrong end of the stick.

  Fortunately, luck was with me and I crept into the house, slipped upstairs and threw myself on the bed, letting sleep take me.

  ‘Finally!’ said Mum as I poked my head in the sitting room late the next morning. ‘We thought you were never going to get up!’

  ‘Did you go to the pub last night?’ asked Dad, turning off the news channel and twisting round to look at me.


  ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘everyone did, apart from Gwen.’

  ‘Well, you certainly had some celebrating to do!’ laughed Mum. ‘The entire evening was an absolute triumph!’

  ‘Everyone certainly seemed to have a good time,’ I agreed, ‘and plenty of people turned out.’

  ‘And stayed out,’ gushed Mum. ‘The market was still heaving when we came home and we didn’t leave early.’

  ‘Yes, congratulations, love,’ said Dad with an unexpected smile. ‘You and Tom really pulled it off. I know we’ve had our differences of late, especially during the last couple of weeks and I admit I was upset when you got involved with it all, but last night you made me proud, Ruby, really proud.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I swallowed, feeling relieved that our disagreement over my tattoo had been forgotten, for the time being at least.

  I couldn’t help wondering if I was actually still asleep and had drifted down the stairs in a dream. I had assumed Dad would still be smarting because he had had to tell the entire town that he’d had no part in putting the event together, but he seemed genuinely pleased about it all.

  ‘I thought you might think it was all a bit over the top,’ I said cautiously, hoping not to break the spell, ‘what with all the fireworks and everything.’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ he said, ‘it was perfect. Just the change the town needed. People will be talking about last night for a long time and I can’t wait to see what the local rag makes of it! They might even have something positive to say for once.’

  I felt a tight knot forming in my stomach as I thought about what they would have to say about Dad if Steve’s allegations made their way to the editors’ ears. Dad had dedicated endless hours to criticising and correcting their journalistic efforts and I could well imagine they’d love the opportunity to get their own back. They’d eat him alive.

  ‘You all right?’ asked Mum. ‘You look a bit peaky.’

  ‘I’m OK,’ I said, ‘just a bit tired.’

 

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