Mince Pies and Mistletoe at the Christmas Market

by Heidi Swain

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘With Steve,’ she continued. ‘I always thought there was more to him calling time on your relationship than he let on, but what with losing Sean and having to step in to help with the stall I could never be sure. Losing his brother like that was bound to have a massive impact, it was obviously going to change him but I always thought that hanging on to you and what the pair of you had would have helped him through it. His decision to break things off and then not changing his mind when everything began to settle down again, well it shocked me, it shocked a lot of people.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ I quizzed. ‘Did you think he was going to come after me, then?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ she said, ‘but let’s put it this way, I did think that by the time you came back for Christmas that first year he would have seen sense. I thought he would have sought you out and tried to put things back together but he didn’t, did he? Even though he was utterly miserable he kept his distance. Now having heard the part your dad played in the situation, it all makes sense. I dare say Steve was desperate to get in touch but your dad had done such a good job convincing him that you were better off without him he thought better of it and left you alone.’

  I didn’t like the sound of it one little bit, but I could understand what she was getting at. Dad could be very persuasive when he set his heart on something. He was used to getting his own way and a young man, grieving for his older brother and trying to fill the gaping great gap he left, had no doubt been the easiest person in the world to manipulate.

  ‘Why didn’t you ever say anything?’ I said, trying to keep the accusatory tone at bay, ‘why didn’t you ever tell me that you had these suspicions?’

  ‘Because I couldn’t be sure,’ she said, her tone beseeching me to understand. ‘You were miles away and you were hurting. I didn’t want to make the situation even worse so I just kept quiet. When you came back that Christmas you seemed resigned to the situation, you were making yourself a new life and you had new friends. I didn’t see the point in dragging it all up again.’

  ‘Did anyone else know?’ I asked, suddenly remembering the look on Lizzie’s face when she had tried to stop Marie the day before. ‘Did anyone else think the same thing as you?’

  Bea started chewing her lip again.

  ‘Lizzie did, didn’t she?’ I said to help her out. ‘Lizzie had her suspicions.’

  ‘Yes,’ sighed Bea, ‘and so did Jemma. After a few weeks, when Steve had made no effort to build any bridges, we all began to think that something was amiss. Of course, if we’d known that your dad was behind it all we would have stepped in and tried to help, but we didn’t have a clue.’

  I knew it wasn’t Bea’s, Lizzie’s or Jemma’s fault that my dad had acted like a prize rat. Deep down I knew it wasn’t Steve’s fault either, although I couldn’t help wishing that he had had the strength to stand up and fight for us, but given the circumstances I don’t know where I would have expected him to find that strength from.

  ‘What are you going to do now?’ asked Bea when she realised we had been sitting in silence for well over a minute.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, are you going to tell Steve that you’ve found out about what your dad did?’

  ‘No,’ I sighed.

  ‘Are you going to tell him that you’re still in love with him then?’

  ‘Oh look,’ I said, jumping up and rushing to the window. The weather had saved me from having to answer. ‘It’s snowing,’ I said. ‘Would you look at the size of these flakes!’

  The snow continued to fall for the rest of the day and thanks to the plummeting temperature that night it was a slippery but picturesque walk to work the next morning. The market square had been totally transformed and had I just been passing through, I would have no doubt considered it picture postcard pretty, but the thought of stamping my feet and blowing on my gloves for eight hours straight was daunting to say the least.

  ‘Have you heard?’ asked Jude, rushing over the second she spotted me and almost losing her footing in the process.

  ‘About what?’ I asked cautiously as I carried on knocking the snow from the stall canopy before I went to the café to collect the stock.

  I braced myself for whatever she was going to say, hoping that it wasn’t more bad news. Given the rosy glow and broad smile I thought I was going to be safe, but given the shocking revelations of the last couple of days I wasn’t counting my chickens.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ she giggled, tugging on my sleeve and almost putting us both in the firing line for a covering of dislodged snow in the process.

  ‘Believe what?’ I asked, quickly dodging out of the way.

  ‘OK,’ she said, taking a deep breath and trying to compose her features into a slightly more businesslike expression. ‘Yesterday afternoon Simon and I went and had a look around the empty shop next to the Cherry Tree.’

  ‘The old shoe shop you mean?’

  ‘That’s the one,’ she beamed, ‘and we’ve decided we’re going to take on the lease. We’re planning to open a vintage store in the spring.’

  ‘Oh wow!’ I said, pulling her into a hug and feeling relieved that it was good news after all. ‘Congratulations, that’s fantastic!’

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I can’t wait. The unit has been empty for ages so we’ve managed to get it for a song really and we’ve only had to commit to six months, just so we can see how it goes before deciding if we want it for any longer. Isn’t it fantastic?’ she gushed, ‘our own shop! It’s what we’ve always dreamed of, and,’ she added, lowering her voice, ‘if the worst comes to the worst and the market does close, we’ll have got out in time and we won’t have to go back to working the car boots. We’re actually going to be able to turn this into a proper business, Ruby!’

  ‘Uh huh,’ I nodded, that horrible knot of pain in the pit of my stomach was making its presence felt again. I had thought I’d feel better if people were open about the potential problems on the market’s horizon, but if my rolling insides were anything to go by I was obviously wrong.

  ‘And we’ll be able to sell much bigger things,’ Jude carried on. ‘We’ve got loads of furniture and fabrics but we can’t put it out on the stall in this weather. A shop will give us much more scope.’

  ‘Of course it will,’ I agreed. ‘I’m thrilled for you. I really am. The town could do with a new shop or two to pull the shoppers in and next to the Cherry Tree is the perfect spot.’

  ‘Funnily enough,’ she said, as she rushed back to help Simon unload the van, ‘that’s exactly what your dad said when he arrived with the shop owner to show us around.’

  The time was pushing on and I didn’t have time to stand about with my mouth open. As dumbstruck as I was, I had to get the stall set up and keep moving if I didn’t want to become frozen to the spot. I had just finished arranging more of Jemma’s Kilner jar baking kits and some new strings of Lizzie’s stocking-shaped bunting when Marie arrived to add her own layer of confusion to my already muddled thoughts.

  ‘Ruby,’ she said, hopping from one foot to the other.

  ‘Marie,’ I nodded, ‘I didn’t expect to see you today. What are you doing here on a Monday?’

  I had been hoping to avoid her for a few days, at least until I’d come to terms with the devastating revelations her comments in the town hall on Saturday had unleashed.

  ‘You aren’t setting up today, are you?’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘but we start our Christmas delivery service this week. Chris and Steve are going to be run off their feet packing orders and taking out the van so I’m helping with the stall. I mostly just sell bundles of holly and mistletoe from now until the twenty-fourth anyway and I can easily do that from their stall.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘right.’

  ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘that’s not what I came over to talk about.’

  I turned back to the stall and began fiddling with the chilly bags of biscuits and buns.


  ‘Ruby,’ she said again.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I want to tell you that I’m sorry, love.’

  ‘For what?’

  I had absolutely no desire to make things easy for her.

  ‘You know what,’ she tutted, ‘I spoke to your mum last night. She said you had it out with your dad yesterday and he told you that he was the one responsible for Steve’s decision.’

  ‘To ditch me,’ I jumped in.

  ‘To let you go,’ she said softly.

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well,’ she sighed, ‘I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.’

  ‘Why are you sorry?’

  ‘Because you shouldn’t have found out like that, that’s why. Because it probably would have been best all round if you hadn’t found out at all.’

  ‘What, you mean you would have been happy for me to go on blaming Steve for everything, when all the time it was actually my dad who was behind what happened?’

  ‘But you never did really blame Steve, did you?’ she pointed out. ‘You always knew deep inside that he was only doing what he thought was for the best, irrespective of what your dad might or might not have said.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ I shrugged. ‘Anyway what does it matter? It’s done now.’

  ‘And have you told Steve that you know?’

  ‘Of course I haven’t,’ I snapped. ‘What would be the point in that? We’ve already had one near miss since I came back and after that I made it very clear that I wasn’t interested in starting again.’

  I had, hadn’t I?

  ‘He knows how I feel and I know how he feels. We’ve laid our cards on the table and I think it would be best all round if everyone just left us alone. I’ll be gone in a couple of weeks anyway and to be honest I don’t know now if I’ll ever want to come back.’

  It probably sounded dramatic, but it was the truth. At some point in the future Steve would fall in love with someone else. They would get married and have a dozen little Dempster sprogs and I had no desire to see him playing happy families with someone else who could so easily have been me, were it not for an out of control motorbike and my father’s interference.

  ‘But if Steve knew that you now know why he let you go in the first place . . .’

  ‘But he doesn’t,’ I said firmly, ‘and I don’t want him to. Had I known coming back to Wynbridge was going to start all this back up again I never would have agreed to take the stall on.’

  ‘But now you’re here,’ Marie tried again.

  ‘I can’t wait to leave,’ I told her. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to see to my customers.’

  Now the local schools had broken up for the holidays, the market was much busier and the addition of the currently pristine snow seemed to encourage everyone to grab their wellies and sledges and enjoy the picturesque scene. Snow in Wynbridge usually arrived in February from what I could remember, so its presence in the run up to Christmas was, for now anyway, most welcome.

  ‘I feel about eight years old again,’ Gwen told me as she came tottering over later that afternoon. ‘Isn’t it wonderful?’

  I wished I had the enthusiasm and exuberance to match her, but as the day had already begun to darken and the cold was penetrating my very marrow I was feeling increasingly less than delighted with the snowy situation.

  ‘It’s brilliant,’ said a voice behind me.

  ‘Steve,’ Gwen beamed. ‘We’ve missed you today. Where have you been?’

  ‘Making Christmas deliveries,’ he explained, ‘I’ve got yours in the van, Gwen.’

  ‘My what, dear?’

  ‘Your delivery.’

  ‘But I haven’t ordered anything,’ she said, looking confused.

  ‘Well, I have a box in the back with your name on it,’ he said seriously, giving me the merest wink. ‘Dad made it up earlier. There’s enough fruit and veg in there to see you through the next couple of weeks and he’s added a couple of extra treats: those dates you love so much, as well as a big bunch of mistletoe to hang above your back door.’

  ‘Oh well,’ she faltered, ‘I’m not sure about that.’

  ‘It’s all paid for,’ Steve continued, ‘I told Dad you’ve been keeping me in kisses all year and he said it was the least we could do.’

  ‘Oh you naughty boy,’ she giggled, turning scarlet.

  ‘And I’ll run you home tonight,’ he insisted, ‘so I can help you unpack it.’

  ‘And hang the mistletoe?’ she smiled.

  ‘Of course!’ he laughed. ‘I won’t be going anywhere until that’s up and we’ve tested it out!’

  I turned back to face my stall.

  ‘Are you all right, Ruby?’ Steve asked.

  Yes,’ I nodded, as I struggled to swallow down the lump in my throat and blink away the tears, ‘it’s this wretched cold,’ I sniffed, determinedly keeping my back to both of them. ‘Can you watch the stall for a minute?’

  I didn’t know why that little exchange had had such an impact but it felt as if someone had reached inside my chest and given my heart a jolly hard squeeze. I had always known that Steve Dempster really was the very best of men and for a moment I couldn’t swallow away the raw pain of heartbreak that came with the acknowledgement he was no longer mine all over again.

  Chapter 26

  After two nights of hiding out at Bea’s and with less than a week to go before Christmas, I decided the only way I was going to survive seeing out my time in the town was by immersing myself in my work on the stall, so that was what I did. I had spoken briefly to Jemma about what she estimated my earnings were going to be from the profit we had made and, assuming we had a great few days in the run up to the twenty-fifth, my plane ticket to India and a few extra pennies were guaranteed.

  Emails between Paul, myself, Tanya and Mike had been flying to and fro and everything was all arranged. In less than two weeks I would be working on the other side of the world and the whole situation with Steve and my dad and my worries for the future of Wynbridge market would be behind me.

  I know it was probably selfish to even think it, but I was fast reaching the point where I’d had enough. Not of the place so much, or the people (apart from Dad, of course), but one thing my few weeks of living at home had taught me was that you can never go back to a situation, especially one with such painful memories, and expect it not to leave an imprint on your heart. At that moment my heart was feeling trodden on all over again.

  ‘So,’ smiled Harriet, ‘how has living the life of a Wynbridge town trader been suiting you, Ruby? I know your mum had a great time last Saturday while you were helping out with the wreath making, and Angela from the café has loved it too.’

  I took a moment to think back over everything that had happened during the last few weeks and, not factoring in the Steve scenario of course, I was pretty overwhelmed by just what I had managed to be a part of.

  ‘You know what,’ I told her, ‘it’s been pretty phenomenal actually.’

  ‘I thought you might say that,’ she laughed, ‘it’s not as if you’ve just been working on the stall either, is it?’

  ‘No,’ I agreed, ‘I guess not.’

  ‘Everyone is so happy about the way you’ve got stuck in and shaken things up.’

  ‘Really?’ I asked, suddenly feeling grateful that only Bea, Mum and Marie had known about everything else I’d been trying to cope with.

  ‘Absolutely,’ she nodded, ‘we’re all aware that the switch-on and bake sale were a success thanks to you, not to mention how you stepped in to play Head Elf last week! And we’ve now had three enquiries from potential new stallholders who want to join our happy band in the New Year.’

  I was delighted that she felt my suggestions and efforts had made such an impact, of course, but I still wasn’t convinced that the market was out of the woods just yet. That knot of pain in my gut had stubbornly refused to leave and I couldn’t help feeling there was some drama looming on the horizon that was still to be played out before I left tow
n.

  ‘That’s great,’ I smiled, ‘really good news. I don’t think I really appreciated how important a part the market played in the town before. I guess I just always took it for granted when I was growing up.’

  ‘I think we all did,’ said Rachel, Harriet’s partner, who had wandered over to join us, ‘and that’s been a big part of the problem.’

  ‘A little town like Wynbridge can’t just rely on the same old stalls year in year out any more,’ added Harriet. ‘The way people shop and where they shop has changed so dramatically over the last few years and unfortunately it’s taken the traders a while to catch up and realise that.’

  ‘Well,’ I said looking around, ‘I think they’ve got the idea now.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Rachel, ‘I think you’re right.’

  Practically every stall in sight was now offering something a little different, something a little more tailored to the season and, judging by the number of shoppers milling around, it had all been worth the effort. The addition of three more stalls in the New Year could well make all the difference when it came to keeping the momentum going.

  ‘But what about you two,’ I asked, ‘I’ve hardly seen your stall set up at all since I arrived?’

  ‘A lot of the plants we sell are rather lacking in kerb appeal at this time of year,’ Harriet explained. ‘Most of our business is mail order during the winter as the bulk of the stock looks like sticks in pots!’

  ‘Exactly,’ laughed Rachel, ‘just sticks, or pots of compost waiting to burst into life in the spring! We certainly don’t have much in the way of eye candy at the moment but we’ll be back in the New Year with the bulbs and things.’

  ‘Do you know what Lizzie and Jemma are planning to do with the Cherry Tree stall after Christmas?’ asked Harriet.

  ‘No,’ I told them, my eyes taking in the pretty Christmas makes and bakes that had proved so popular, ‘I don’t.’

  ‘I dare say there won’t be much scope for carrying on in January,’ sighed Rachel.

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that,’ I frowned, ‘think of all the fabulous things they could sell for Valentine’s Day and then of course you’ve got Easter not long after. Bunnies and baskets in abundance,’ I mused, ‘not to mention the fabulous potential of a Wynbridge market Easter egg hunt for the children and perhaps another bake sale and a proper Spring Fair with chicks and lambs.’