Mince Pies and Mistletoe at the Christmas Market

by Heidi Swain

  ‘Of course,’ I said, ‘I remember.’

  I didn’t particularly want to, given our last bitter exchange in the pub and the realisation that he wasn’t part of my life any more, but I couldn’t help thinking what a genuinely good bloke Steve was. He was always on hand to help out, and he loved Wynbridge just as much as he loved his family. It was guys like Steve who were the heart of the town, families like his who were the lifeblood and heartbeat of the place. Had he been anyone else’s son I was sure my father would have considered him ideal son-in-law potential and welcomed him with open arms. But then of course, a loyal son-in-law wouldn’t go around accusing his in-laws of fraud, conspiracy and extortion, I reminded myself, quickly hardening my heart before it had a chance to be touched again.

  ‘I’d better get on,’ I said, standing back up. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  There were moments during that day when I wished I was back outside manning the stall rather than having to cope with the searing heat the ovens emitted as a result of being turned on all day. The money raised in the sale along with the smiles on the families’ faces and the delightfully wonky biscuit decorations and slightly insane frosted Santa cupcakes made up for it, though.

  ‘You should see the size of the tree Daddy’s got tied to the car roof,’ Ella confided as she helped me check that every plate had been given a rosette. Whoever had judged had cleverly awarded ‘special mentions’ to everyone who hadn’t been placed first, second or third and therefore avoided upset and heartbreak. ‘It’s massive.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Huge,’ she grinned. ‘Mummy’s going to go nuts when she sees it and there’s no chance of getting the fairy on the top.’

  ‘She’s right,’ said Lizzie’s mum, who was pushing Noah around in his pushchair in the hope that he would fall asleep, ‘it’s vast.’

  I couldn’t help but giggle.

  ‘What is it with men and Christmas?’ she mused. ‘In my experience when it comes to trees they always go over the top.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s the hunter-gatherer in them,’ I suggested.

  ‘Either that or some kind of phallic representation,’ she laughed.

  ‘What does phallic mean?’ asked Ella.

  ‘Never you mind,’ she said, ‘now come along with me and we’ll see if Mummy and Daddy will let you stay at our house for the night.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ella, thrusting the last of the rosettes back into my hands. ‘See you later, Ruby!’

  When the hall was eventually tidied, the plates of cakes and biscuits collected and the money counted, I made my way back to the square to discover that the tree sale had been equally as successful and the market had been heaving. The only trees left were a straggly little collection of about half a dozen that were destined for the chipper, or would have been had Gwen not come to their rescue and insisted on buying the lot.

  ‘I’ll pay to have them delivered, of course,’ she said, happily inspecting her puny purchases, ‘I can’t bear the thought of them not seeing out their true destiny.’

  ‘I’ll drop them round tomorrow,’ offered Chris, ‘no charge. I can bring them in the van.’

  Here was another Dempster man who knew the true meaning of community spirit. It was no secret where Steve got his willingness to pitch in and his desire to help out from.

  ‘Oh thank you, dear man,’ said Gwen. ‘Now, who fancies a trip to the pub to round off the day?’

  Chapter 20

  It was beginning to feel as if an event or celebration of any kind in Wynbridge simply wasn’t complete unless it ended with a trip to The Mermaid, but I wasn’t complaining. I might have been almost asleep on my feet, but just the thought of a restorative glass of Skylark Scrumpy or three was enough to revive my flagging senses.

  As I hung up my coat and let the smoky warmth from the fire wrap around me I began to wonder how I was going to cope on my travels without the cosy embrace of the pub and its regenerating brew. Somehow a beachside cocktail at sunset didn’t seem to have quite the same appeal, but at that very moment someone opened the door and let in a sharp blast of bitterly cold air and I realised I was still prepared to give it a shot nonetheless.

  ‘Half a pint of cider please, Jim,’ I smiled when I had finally pushed my way through to the bar.

  ‘I understand congratulations are in order,’ he boomed as he reached for a glass, ‘Evelyn tells me the bake sale was a huge success.’

  ‘As was the tree auction,’ I nodded, ‘I think we might have come up with a winning combination there. I hope whoever finds themselves responsible for the town festivities sees fit to repeat the whole thing again next year.’

  ‘As do I,’ said Steve, suddenly appearing at my side, ‘although perhaps the baking could happen without breaking quite so many eggs!’

  ‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ I tutted, the sudden remembrance taking the sting out of having to talk to him again, ‘you paid for all those extra ingredients out of your own pocket! Make sure you put in a bill for them, won’t you?’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ he insisted, ‘let’s just call it my contribution to Christmas.’

  ‘Well, that’s very generous of you,’ I told him, thinking the gesture deserved some acknowledgement, ‘what with you practically single-handedly funding the bake sale and your mum and dad supplying the trees and lights, and not forgetting the beautiful foliage arrangements today, I think we should have some signs up declaring that this Christmas has been sponsored by Dempsters of Wynbridge.’

  ‘Oh, don’t even joke about it,’ said Steve rolling his eyes, ‘Dad would love that! Crikey, we’d never hear the last of it! Come on,’ he laughed, giving me a nudge and making it increasingly difficult to stay cross with him, ‘let me buy you a drink, although given today’s unexpected expenditure I can’t run to champagne, I’m afraid.’

  I might have been just about capable of engaging in a civil conversation with him, but this was taking things too far. There was no way I was going to let him buy me another drink.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘it’s kind of you to offer but I’ll pass, if it’s all the same to you.’

  ‘Oh well,’ he shrugged, ‘if you insist. I’ll just have a pint of bitter then please, Jim.’

  It was only as Jim finished filling my cider glass that I remembered I hadn’t got my bag with me, or my purse. That morning I’d left home with just my phone and car keys tucked in my jeans pocket so I didn’t have to spend the day wondering where I’d put things.

  ‘You aren’t serious,’ laughed Steve as he watched me go through the motions of patting my pockets and making a fine show of delving up my sleeves for loose change. ‘Here, Jim,’ he said, handing over a crisp ten-pound note.

  ‘No,’ I said, shaking my head, ‘it’s fine. I’ll sort it.’

  ‘How?’

  He sounded annoyingly amused and I felt increasingly cornered.

  ‘I’ll pay you back,’ I told him, biting my lip and wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole.

  ‘I know you will,’ he said, then added with a mischievous twinkle, ‘Oh, look what Evelyn’s just hung above the door.’

  It was the biggest bunch of mistletoe I’d ever seen.

  With practically the entire town crammed inside the pub I had rather hoped staying out of Steve’s way would be easy, but it didn’t seem to matter where I went or who I spoke to, somehow he managed to nudge his way into the conversation or at the very least into my eye line.

  I don’t know what on earth had made him think that I was fair game or that I’d forgotten about his unsavoury accusation from a few days before, but the way he puckered up when I so much as glanced in his direction left me in no doubt that he wasn’t quite as prepared to be as ‘over us’ as I was. By ten o’clock I was ready to head home, but I knew I wouldn’t make it out of the door without being kissed and Bea was being no help at all.

  ‘Just do it,’ she kept hissing in my ear, ‘at least if you kiss him you’ll know for certain whether you still have fe
elings for him or not.’

  ‘I already know,’ I hissed back venomously, wishing I’d told her the whole story.

  ‘Well there’s no harm in testing the theory,’ she winked.

  ‘You aren’t thinking of leaving are you?’ said Steve, sidling up as Bea melted away.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘not yet, but my decision to stay has nothing to do with the mistletoe and besides I think you’d have more success making out with Mia under it than me, don’t you? I thought you might have changed your mind about hooking up with her as nothing’s going to happen between us.’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ he said crossly. ‘I’ve already told you I’m not interested in Mia and I’ve no plans to change my mind.’

  ‘Anyway, where is she?’ I said, standing on tiptoe and scanning the crowd. Her glossy head was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘She’s not been around for a few days now,’ Steve shrugged.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I took your advice and told her the truth.’

  I didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but thinking back, I hadn’t clapped eyes on her fine form for quite some time.

  ‘I told her everything,’ he said, ‘just like you said I should and she decided to move on to pastures new.’

  I wasn’t sure if this new piece of information made me feel better or worse. Surely if Steve really had given Mia the heave-ho that was because he couldn’t put his feelings for me to one side and I didn’t want to have to deal with that, especially after everything else that had happened, and not forgetting that I didn’t love him any more, of course.

  ‘Well good for her,’ I said, tossing my hair over my shoulder, ‘I can’t say I blame her. I’d never let a man mess me about like that.’

  Steve looked at me and shook his head.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, aren’t you forgetting something?’

  ‘What?’ I said again.

  ‘You’re the reason why I ended up treating her like that.’

  ‘Oh thanks,’ I said, ‘how convenient for you to be able to pass the blame on to me.’

  I can’t deny I felt a slight flicker as we sparred and it only began to burn a little brighter when our skin touched.

  ‘Oh come on, Ruby,’ he said, making a grab for my hand, ‘are you going to let me kiss you or not?’

  ‘Not,’ I swallowed, snatching my hand away as it began to tingle and before he had a chance to pull me towards the gargantuan bunch of mistletoe, ‘of course not. I still can’t stop thinking about what you said about Dad taking bribes and the market being up for sale. In fact,’ I added, forcing myself to call time on our little frisson, ‘I still can’t believe it is up for sale or that you could have such a low opinion of a man, irrespective of who he is, who has lived his entire life in the town and has made his career out of trying to improve it.’

  ‘But have you asked him about it?’ Steve frowned.

  ‘Oh don’t be so ridiculous!’ I laughed derisively, ‘of course I haven’t.’

  I had been tempted, of course, but how could I possibly begin that conversation without causing the biggest family rift ever? I’d even thought about stealing into the office at home and looking through Dad’s private papers, but every time I came close I just ended up resenting Steve a little bit more for even putting such an underhand thought into my head.

  ‘Have you talked to anyone about it?’ Steve demanded.

  I really couldn’t see the point in dragging this absurd conversation on any longer. We were just going round in circles.

  ‘Hey, Ruby,’ called Jake, as he and Amber pushed their way through the crowd towards me. ‘Congratulations on the bake sale!’

  ‘From what I can gather,’ added Amber, ‘the auction made a small fortune. I put in two Christmas cakes and they made a packet. Rumour has it,’ she said proudly, ‘one of them is destined for the Wynthorpe Hall dining table, although I’m not sure which one.’

  ‘Well, thank you for contributing,’ I said, ‘it was very short notice for actual Christmas cakes and puddings.’

  ‘It was,’ she nodded, ‘but some friends and I had recently got together for a marathon baking session and I had a couple left over.’

  ‘That sounds like fun.’

  ‘It was great,’ she said, then added in a whisper, ‘I’ve been feeling a bit isolated since Honey was born but getting everyone together and eating cake was the perfect tonic.’

  I thought about the farm’s location and guessed that life there could be a little on the quiet side.

  ‘It’s amazing how often cake really is the answer, isn’t it?’ I smiled.

  ‘You have no idea,’ she laughed. ‘We’re already planning to do it again in the spring. There are quite a few mums living out in the Fens and it can be very lonely.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ I nodded, ‘some of those drove roads seem to go on forever and you only find two or three houses dotted along them. To be honest, I can’t say I’ve ever given much thought as to who actually lives in them.’

  ‘Well now you know,’ smiled Amber, ‘we’ll have to come up with a name for ourselves, won’t we?’

  ‘Fenland Foodies or something,’ I suggested.

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Jake, ‘and talking of foodies, I understand that you and Paul are thinking of jetting off to India together in the New Year!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Steve, pointing towards the bar, ‘I need to grab Mum before she leaves.’

  ‘See you later, mate,’ said Jake, ‘now come on, Ruby, spill the beans!’

  I explained to him and Amber about the day Paul left town and how he had recognised the beach in the photograph I had pinned up on the stall.

  ‘But we have absolutely no plans to travel together!’ I insisted. ‘In fact, we haven’t even been in touch since he left. I said I’d contact him before I fly out and see if he can arrange some work for me while I’m there, but that’s all there is to it.’

  ‘God, he’s such an old flirt,’ laughed Amber, ‘you’d think after all these scandals he would have learnt his lesson, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I wouldn’t be surprised,’ joined in Jake, ‘if you find yourself turning down his bed when you get there, Ruby. He’ll probably fly out to surprise you!’

  ‘Of course he won’t,’ I gasped. ‘Crikey, I don’t know if I want to phone him at all now.’

  ‘No, you must,’ said Amber seriously, ‘he’s a good bloke at heart and his contacts are second to none. Knowing him could put a totally different complexion on your travels.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure.’

  ‘I am,’ she said, ‘absolutely. Do not even book your flight without having spoken to him first.’

  ‘All right,’ I told her, ‘but if I find myself being seduced in a foreign climate, I’m holding you responsible.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ she shrugged, ‘but given all the things I’ve heard about him over the years I don’t think you’ll be complaining!’

  ‘Right,’ said Jake, taking her by the arm, ‘that’s quite enough of that talk, thank you very much. Come on, I need another drink.’

  ‘And I need to go,’ I said, looking furtively about me to try and pinpoint Steve before I made a dash for the door.

  ‘You sure?’ asked Amber.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I have a completely lazy day planned for tomorrow and I’d hate to sleep through it!’

  Stealthily I crossed the bar, lifted the latch on the door, felt a bitter blast of freezing air and was just about to cross the threshold, when another hand appeared from nowhere covering mine and Steve pulled me around and into a close embrace.

  ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ I spluttered, trying to pull away as my traitorous body melted and settled into the familiar contours of his.

  ‘You didn’t really think I was going to let you get away that easily,’ he whispered, smiling down at me. ‘Did you?’

  ‘This is sexual harassment. I never had any intent
ion of paying you for that drink in kind,’ I seethed, but annoyingly loving the electricity flowing between us. ‘Now let me go,’ I insisted, trying to wriggle free before he realised, ‘or I’ll have to shout for help!’

  I opened my mouth to protest but found my lips covered with his, his arms wrapped around my back and a thousand butterflies and fireworks fighting for the upper hand in my stomach. It felt so right, so familiar and as I felt his tongue dip into my mouth to meet mine I realised that I hadn’t been kissed like that since I left Wynbridge four years before. No one in the world could make me feel like he could and I knew, had we been anywhere other than a packed pub, I would have been ripping the shirt off his back and quenching my desire without a second thought.

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ I said, my hands pummelling his chest as I tried to push him away. ‘What are you doing? Let me go!’

  He pulled away slightly and loosened his grip, but I didn’t move.

  ‘Do you really want me to?’ he said seriously.

  His pupils were enormous and the way he licked his full, soft lips made my insides melt.

  ‘Yes,’ I squeaked, ‘yes please.’

  He took a step away and I poured every ounce of strength I had left into forcing my knees not to buckle.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I just thought a kiss might help you remember how good we were together and to be honest,’ he added pointing to the mistletoe, ‘I’ve been looking for an excuse to take you in my arms ever since the very first moment I caught sight of you again.’

  ‘Well, you had no right,’ I said, retrieving my coat from the row of pegs behind the door and wishing he’d never accused Dad of anything more damning than being a pain in the backside. ‘And I don’t remember anything about how good we were together, so you’ve got it all wrong, haven’t you?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he said huskily.

  I looked at him for a second and shook my head. ‘I just don’t understand you,’ I said.

  He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and didn’t reply.

  ‘Just a few days ago you were telling me that getting back together wasn’t an option because of all the complications with the market. You broke my heart when you said those things about my dad . . .’