A Way Back Home

by Alison Sherlock

  Perhaps she could just pretend that Will was all hers and enjoy it while it lasted. For the Christmas season and through to New Year, she had someone to share things with. Maybe, just maybe, that would bring her enough happy memories to last her a lifetime.

  43

  The following day, Will was still thinking about his conversation with Skye regarding loneliness at Christmas. It was actually something that he had experienced. Although he had always made it home for Christmas Day, there had always been a sense that the build-up was missing. Out at parties, or even at work, the warmth and seasonal good cheer of Christmas had passed him by. In addition, he had found the fake good cheer irritating.

  But the previous evening, in the glow of the small Christmas tree in the lounge, he had found long suppressed feelings of loneliness from his childhood flooding back. Especially the years after their parents had died and Sam and he had continued with their boarding school education. Confused and bewildered from grief, he had hidden himself away. But Sam had always made sure that he was okay. In addition, there were always a stack of presents and hugs waiting for him at Willow Tree Hall. He hadn’t been left alone, like Skye had with her sister.

  ‘Hey, are you gonna take this from me or not?’ said his brother’s voice from up above him.

  Will looked up the ladder and found Sam holding out a piece of guttering.

  ‘You are a sleepyhead today,’ said Sam, climbing down the ladder. ‘Did you have a bad night or something?’

  Will blew out a long sigh. ‘I’m going to take these mugs back inside,’ he said, picking up the empty coffee cups that they had left on the patio.

  ‘Just hand me that wrench before you do,’ said Sam, holding out his hand as he went up the first couple of steps.

  Will left his brother up the ladder whilst he went inside to the kitchen. He found Reg in there washing up his breakfast things.

  ‘Thanks for the coffee,’ he said, placing the mugs in the bowl of soapy water.

  Reg smiled. ‘You’re welcome, son. Especially if it means I won’t get Niagara Falls out the back door the next time it rains.’

  Will leant against the side. ‘So, er, is there anything else you need?’

  ‘Thanks, but I think the rest of the house is just about hanging on in there,’ Reg told him.

  ‘Let me have a look,’ said Will, heading past the unused dining room and into the front room.

  It was small but was obviously where Reg sat each night, if the TV guide was anything to go by. He heard Reg shuffle into the room behind him.

  ‘It’s a nice enough place,’ said Reg. ‘And that gas fire can blow out a bit of heat as well.’

  ‘I see,’ said Will, nodding. ‘That’s good.’

  But his mind was still on the lodge and Skye decorating the tree the previous evening.

  He hesitated before turning to face the elderly man. ‘So, er, what about a Christmas tree?’

  Reg looked stunned. ‘I haven’t had one of those since my wife passed away ten years ago,’ he said, his eyes going a little misty in memory. ‘I needed a knee replacement soon after and all the stuff is in the loft so—’

  Will clapped his hands together in an enthusiastic manner that surprised them both. ‘So how about I go up there and get a few bits down? If you want me to, of course.’

  Reg was still astounded. ‘Well, I hadn’t really thought about it.’ Tears filled his eyes. ‘I mean, I never liked to bother anyone about it, but my wife had made me promise that life would carry on just as if she were still here. Always felt bad about not having a tree up, to be honest.’

  Will nodded, unable to speak in case he betrayed his own emotions. ‘Have you got a loft ladder?’ he asked.

  Reg nodded.

  Will spent the next half an hour clambering up into the loft and retrieving a couple of boxes as Reg instructed him on where to find everything.

  He was just carrying the last box downstairs when Sam came inside.

  ‘The guttering’s finished,’ said Sam.

  ‘That’s great, thank you,’ said Reg, slowly lifting the lid of a rigid cardboard box.

  ‘What’s all this?’ asked Sam.

  ‘Your brother suggested I should have a Christmas tree up,’ said Reg.

  Sam was shocked. ‘Really?’ He glanced at Will with wide eyes.

  ‘He is quite right, of course,’ said Reg, slowly lifting up a silver star from the box. ‘It’s been years since I saw these things. Too long.’

  ‘Do you need a hand putting it up?’ asked Sam, looking down at the artificial tree in a large dustbin liner.

  Reg shook his head. ‘Thanks, but I’ll manage. I shall have a cup of tea and then a lovely afternoon putting it up in the corner over there.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Will, nodding his approval.

  He felt Sam glance at him once more before speaking. ‘I suppose we’d better get going.’

  But Will had just thought of something else that Skye had touched on. ‘What will you be doing for Christmas Day?’ he asked.

  Reg smiled. ‘The Queen’s asked me to Buckingham Palace but unfortunately the corgis bring me out in a rash.’

  Will laughed. ‘Her loss may be our gain. If you’re going to be by yourself, would you like to come up to the Hall for lunch instead?’

  ‘Me?’ Reg was astounded. ‘Have Christmas Day lunch with you all?’

  ‘Why not?’ said Will, with a shrug. ‘There’ll be plenty to go around, won’t there, Sam?’

  Sam nodded, even though his face was struggling not to look stunned. ‘The more the merrier,’ he said.

  ‘In fact,’ said Will, warming to his theme. ‘We’ll be inviting anyone from the village who’s going to be on their own up to the Hall for lunch.’

  ‘What a smashing idea,’ said Reg, looking teary once more. ‘And how kind. I know of a couple of people who would be on their own.’

  ‘We’ll talk to Arthur and get the invites in the post,’ said Will, feeling even more determined.

  But to his surprise, it was Sam who needed convincing first.

  ‘I’m not sure we’ve got the funds for this Christmas extravaganza you’ve got planned,’ Sam told him, as they clambered into the Range Rover.

  ‘It’s hardly an extravaganza,’ said Will. ‘How much can a few extra potatoes cost?’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘What? You’re happy to let people be alone on Christmas day?’ said Will, raising an eyebrow. ‘It’s not like we haven’t got the space.’

  ‘We’ll think of something,’ said Sam, shaking his head. ‘I wish I knew where this personality transformation has come from’

  ‘Are you saying that I’ve been a selfish creature and that any kind of generosity on my part is shocking?’ said Will.

  Sam shook his head. ‘No, that wasn’t what I meant,’ he began.

  But Will interrupted him. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘But it’s true. It’s time to step up and help out.’

  ‘Okay. Good,’ said Sam, nodding his head. ‘Great. Blimey.’

  ‘Doesn’t mean I still can’t whip your arse at snooker though,’ Will told him.

  ‘Bring it on, little bruv.’

  Will turned to look out of the window, for once feeling satisfied that he had done the right thing and helped someone. It was a feeling that he wanted again, he realised.

  And he knew exactly who was responsible for this change of heart.

  44

  It turned out that Will’s invitation had sparked a large and positive reaction to Christmas lunch. Earlier that afternoon, Arthur had told Skye and Annie that he had decided it should be referred to as ‘The Lonely Hearts Christmas Club.’

  ‘That’s all well and good,’ muttered Annie, after Arthur had left the room. ‘And of course I absolutely agree with the principle that nobody should be alone on Christmas Day unless they choose to be. But we’ve got a wedding to organise seven days after what is now a lunch for twenty-five people!’

  ‘What can I do?’ asked Skye
. ‘I’m waiting for various things to dry, so I have some time to spare.’

  Annie checked down what appeared to be a very long to-do list. ‘The food’s been ordered so that’s okay. But we’re going to need crackers. Do you think you could get a couple of packs from the shop in the village before they sell out? Oh, and paper napkins. And just anything you can think of, really.’

  Both Sam and Will were out, so there was no chance of a lift. Skye made a mental reminder that she really needed to sort out some kind of car for when she left Willow Tree Hall after the wedding.

  But it was too lovely an afternoon to think about sad things like that, she decided. So she walked into the village as the sun began to set. It was beginning to turn much colder and there was a frost forecast for that night. She found herself enjoying the wintry landscape as she strode out in her comfy trainers down the long driveway. The willow tree lost all of its leaves in the depths of winter, but, if anything, it seemed even more elegant now that its long branches were bare.

  It only took about half an hour to walk into the village. The shop was small but adequate enough for their needs. She bought a couple of large boxes of crackers but the paper napkins were nowhere to be found. Skye wondered whether she could sew up some old fragments of cloth that she had found in the garage.

  After paying, she realised the cracker boxes were bulky and didn’t quite fit into her shopping bags and so bumped against her awkwardly as she began to walk back along the main street.

  She was just at the end of the road when she saw Will pull up in the Range Rover. She watched him get out of the car as if heading somewhere before he spotted her and gave her a wide smile.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, raising an eyebrow at the boxes. ‘Are we expecting guests?’

  ‘It’s a good job that Annie’s got a kind heart,’ Skye told him. ‘Otherwise you’d be in so much trouble.’

  ‘I told her it was all your idea anyway,’ said Will, opening up the car boot. ‘Do you want me to take you back?’

  ‘Haven’t you only just arrived?’ she asked.

  As she placed the boxes in the boot, she noticed a holly wreath in there. It was only when she realised that they were right next to the church that she understood.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind,’ Will was telling her, pressing the button to shut the boot. But Skye quickly grabbed the wreath before it closed.

  He looked down at it in her hands before staring up at her. She was shocked at the bleakness in his eyes. He had only looked like that once before, when he had arrived drunk at her trailer all those weeks ago. When he had told her that he could never visit the grave.

  ‘I can’t do it,’ he finally told her.

  ‘I understand,’ she told him. ‘But you’ve bought it now and you’re here.’ She took a breath and hesitated before adding, ‘Maybe it would be easier with a friend by your side.’

  He gave a small start and looked at her in amazement as she transferred the wreath to one hand and held out the other to him.

  He took a deep intake of shaky breath. ‘Now?’

  She nodded. ‘Together.’

  His hand took hers and she let him lead her down the narrow path, past the much older gravestones that were all askew from age and covered in ivy. In the far corner were some newer graves and as they drew closer, she could see the one that was engraved with Will’s parents’ names.

  His hand was now clasping hers quite tight, but she didn’t say anything, just squeezed his with as much reassurance as she could.

  After a moment of silence, he turned to Skye and let go of her hand to take the wreath from her. Then he slowly and carefully placed it at the foot of the grave.

  As he straightened up, she slipped her hand back into his and they stood there quietly for a few minutes longer. Then he gently pulled her away and they walked back across the churchyard. They were silent as they got into the car and began the drive back. But Will suddenly swerved the car into the pub car park.

  ‘Drink?’ he croaked.

  ‘Yes, please,’ she told him.

  The pub was quiet in late afternoon, yet to be filled by people after work. But the two chairs by the fire that they had used before were taken, so Skye sat down on a sofa opposite another fireplace.

  Will brought the drinks over and slumped onto the sofa next to her. ‘We’ll book a taxi home,’ he said before taking a large gulp from his pint of beer. He then turned to look at Skye. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘For being there with me.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ she said, wondering how she could remove the still bleak look from his eyes. ‘Give me your half of the lodge and we’ll call it even.’

  She was hoping that he would laugh, or at least smile, but he didn’t. If anything, he looked even unhappier.

  ‘You should have it,’ he told her.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ she asked.

  ‘The lodge. Take it.’ He shook his head. ‘You’ve given more than I ever have to so many people.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ she told him. ‘What about the Christmas lunch? That was all your idea.’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Only because I was prompted by you. I’ve been a selfish pig all my life.’

  ‘Your life’s not over,’ she told him. ‘What are you, thirty? Thirty-one?’

  He took another gulp of beer in reply.

  ‘Look, maybe try and see this period of time as one chapter closing and another beginning,’ she said. ‘Now that you can see where perhaps you’d been following the wrong path, then that could be a good thing. Maybe you now know what you can do to change it. Maybe that’s all you needed.’

  He turned fully to face her, stretching his arm along the back of the sofa. ‘Are you saying that the best thing to ever happen to me was you crashing your trailer into my dream car?’

  She was glad to see a twinkle back in his eyes. ‘Maybe the trailer was really your dream car.’

  ‘That might be going too far,’ he told her.

  But finally he was starting to smile and relax once more.

  She could feel herself relaxing in turn. The last thing she wanted to do was see Will upset. She cared so much about him.

  He had been so wretched towards her in the early days, but now there was a softness behind his charm. Now she could see what pain he had been hiding from the world.

  Skye took a gulp of her own drink as the realisation struck her.

  She was falling in love with him and didn’t have the power to stop it.

  45

  Despite Annie’s worries, and Will’s own initial concerns, the Lonely Hearts Christmas Lunch was a huge success.

  Twenty-five people were seated around a couple of tables strung together in the entrance hall, with the huge Christmas tree towering beside them.

  It had been a busy Christmas morning in the kitchen, where every hob was busy bubbling and boiling. There had been steam everywhere. And everyone had been scrubbing, peeling, carving, turning and roasting every conceivable food group known to man.

  But Will had found himself smiling as he watched Skye lay the table, her cheeks still flushed and glowing from the heat in the kitchen. Unbeknown to anyone, she had created little nameplates and, with Arthur’s help, had made a seating plan which would benefit everyone.

  Although he had enjoyed the lunch, Will had been dismayed to find that Skye had been seated at the other end of the table. As he chatted with Reg and the people around him, he couldn’t stop his eyes following Skye as she helped clean up the plates ready for dessert.

  He wasn’t sure when their relationship had changed so dramatically. All he knew was that he had trusted her enough to help him through that first visit to his parents’ graves. And that he had not only been grateful to have her next to him, he had wanted her company.

  Finally, early in the evening, the visitors began to wend their weary way home, sated and happy.

  ‘That was a huge success,’ said Arthur, when Sam and Will returned home from their taxi service to and from th
e village. ‘Well done to everyone for all their splendid hard work.’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ said Rose, nodding her approval and raising a champagne glass. ‘I must say I feel quite done in though.’

  ‘Good job we’ve got a week to recover before the wedding,’ said Sam, yawning as he sank onto the sofa.

  ‘Does anyone want a sandwich or something to eat?’ asked Annie.

  Will thought she looked pretty weary herself.

  ‘How about I make up some sandwiches and you sit down,’ said Skye, jumping up. ‘You’ve done enough today.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Annie, as Sam pulled her down onto the sofa next to him.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Skye.

  ‘Okay. Thanks,’ said Annie, resting her head on her fiancé’s shoulder.

  ‘I’ll help,’ said Will, following Skye out of the room.

  ‘There’s no need,’ said Skye, as they headed back across the entrance hall. The tables had been left in place ready to be redressed and added to in number for the wedding.

  ‘To be honest, I’m grateful for the excuse,’ said Will. ‘That lot will be fast asleep and snoring their heads off by now. Did you speak to Summer?’

  Skye nodded. ‘Oh yes, she’s having a marvellous time whizzing up and down the ski slopes.’ She gave a shudder.

  ‘You don’t ski?’ he asked.

  She shook her head. ‘Never had the opportunity.’

  He followed Skye into the east wing, expecting her to carry on towards the kitchen. But instead she stopped suddenly and hesitated.

  ‘Actually, now that we’re on our own, there is something you can do for me,’ she said.

  ‘I hope you’re not thinking about working on Christmas Day,’ said Will in a stern tone.

  Skye smiled. ‘No, definitely not. But there’s something I wanted to give you,’ she said, heading into the sitting room.

  ‘It’s not half the lodge, is it?’ he joked.

  ‘Ha ha. Not on your life,’ she replied.