Let It Snow

by Sue Moorcroft

  Hayley sat perfectly still, but she’d paled, her lipstick appearing very red.

  ‘If you’d really like to see Doggo,’ Isaac continued, still in the same soft voice, ‘then contact me ahead so we can agree on a convenient time. A busy Friday evening is not it.’

  When she replied, her voice was hoarse. ‘You sound bitter. I’d hoped we’d always be friends.’

  He considered her words. ‘I suppose I am bitter and I expect more of my friends than to let me down. I certainly expected more of my partner and lover than to end things by telling me that my attraction was my success. And my success had gone.’ He saw her flinch.

  ‘I’m sorry I made you feel that way,’ she whispered. Shakily, she smoothed her hair – unnecessarily. As usual, it was a smooth, shining cap. ‘Isaac, you were always so kind.’ She halted.

  When she didn’t say any more he rose, softening his voice. ‘I certainly don’t want things between us to be sourer than needs be but I need to get back to work now. Ping me a text about Doggo when you want to see him. Maybe take him for a walk.’ He didn’t want her in his space upstairs. He said goodnight and returned to his post behind the bar, smiling at Carola who was waving a twenty-pound note.

  As he moved on to the next customer and then the next, observing everything going on around the bar, he sent Flora off to clear tables and reset them, then to tell a group apologetically that the kitchen would be closing soon so she’d have to take their dessert order now or never. He was aware of Hayley slowly finishing her drink at the table in the corner, shaking her head when Flora asked her something.

  Lily had finished her solitary meal and drifted over to talk to a group near the door, her back to him. Despite his good resolutions, his gaze lingered on the perfect roundness of her behind in the clingy dress. Of course, that was the moment Hayley had to stalk across the room, sliding neatly into her coat ready to greet the winter outside.

  Quite obviously catching the direction of his gaze, she drew on her usual poised, protective armour, looking between him and Lily with an expression that said, ‘Oh, Isaac. Really? A junior co-worker?’ before she turned, her long coat swinging, and flipped her way through the front door.

  If she’d given him that look to annoy him then she’d succeeded, making him feel like asking Lily out just to annoy Hayley back.

  OK, it wasn’t just to annoy Hayley …

  Mentally, he rolled his eyes at himself and as the bar thinned went about his duties, reminding himself about the disadvantages of hitting on any co-worker. Relationships between team members fostered favouritism, causing resentment amongst the non-favoured. Awkward atmospheres resulted.

  It had always been against his code. Or, he mentally corrected himself, against the code that had been in place at the casino and he’d taken with him when he set up Juno Lounge. A lot of the female staff at the Juno had been students, much younger than him and more vulnerable, even if they sometimes didn’t act it. He still broke into a sweat when he remembered the eighteen-year-old girl who’d offered him what she termed a ‘boss with benefits deal’. That definitely came under the heading of ‘wrong’ in his mind. All in all, it was better to be in the habit of not thinking of co-workers romantically.

  But then Lily turned up in a dress that brought her curvaceous body sharply to his attention. Lily was a thirty-something like him and he was pretty sure she knew her own mind, though she was junior to him in the team, if you could call the bar staff at The Three Fishes anything so official-sounding as a team.

  They still had to work together.

  But not forever. Not for long, in fact.

  Lily was leaning on the bar now, chattering with customers and bar staff alike. She’d taken off her high-heeled shoes and hooked them neatly over the brass foot rail. Wine glass in hand she was laughing at something one of the men from the garage had said, hair tumbling down her back. There was something a bit Kate Winslet about the direct way she looked at everyone. As Isaac watched, a couple of the blokey blokes from the darts game came over to join the conversation, then the whole group laughed. She caught Isaac watching and gave him a long look, one he couldn’t decipher.

  Heaving an inner sigh, he took himself off into the back area and on into the kitchen to see how their clean-down was going and how Chef, a bear-like man with bushy brown hair and a shorn beard and whose real name of Brian no one ever used, had coped tonight. They’d been so busy that Isaac anticipated a request for an extra kitchen porter on Friday and Saturday nights until after Christmas and New Year.

  Chef was, as with most chefs Isaac had encountered, king of his domain, always in action and always grumpy. He was stuffing his chef whites into the laundry bag when Isaac found him. The rest of the kitchen staff had already gone home. When Isaac asked how they’d coped with the numbers tonight he looked around his gleaming-clean kingdom and grunted. ‘Not bad.’ He put on his coat leaving Isaac to surmise, as the outside door swung closed behind him, that if Chef needed another kitchen porter he’d say so.

  Isaac checked his watch. Soon it would be time to close and cash up. He looked up and saw Lily hovering, regarding him uncertainly. Her shoes were back on her feet; her hair shone under the lights almost as brightly as the sequins of her dress.

  ‘Going clubbing now?’ he asked, as she didn’t immediately state the reason for standing alone in the back instead of out in the bar with her friends.

  She grimaced. ‘It went out the window. Zinnia had to rush home because they had a kitchen fire. She’s texted to say the fire’s out, no one was hurt but it caused a lot of damage and now the back door won’t shut so her boyfriend’s trying to find someone to make the house secure. Looks like the blaze began in the extractor.’

  Isaac hadn’t even noticed Zinnia leaving. ‘Horrible mess to clear up, I expect.’ He made to skirt around her and return to the bar.

  ‘Um …’ she began, fidgeting with her fingers. ‘I’ve sort of got to tell you something.’

  He paused. ‘OK.’

  She glanced behind her, as if to check they were alone. Her cheeks were pink, probably from the wine she’d been drinking steadily all evening. ‘Hayley, well, she seemed to be making a point of asking about you. I felt uncomfortable so I was a bit cool with her and may have made it sound as if we’re cosier than we are. Then I realised that if she was here to try to reignite your relationship then I shouldn’t have.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, not really comprehending why Lily was feeling the need to confess. Was there some kind of in vino veritas thing going on? She’d had a drink and was letting things show that she’d usually hide? Or was that just wishful thinking on his part because he was over-aware of how incredible she looked? ‘Hayley was behaving oddly tonight but I don’t think it was about reigniting anything. It’s not in her character to look back or have regrets. She rarely admits, even to herself, that she’s made a mistake.’

  Lily’s nose wrinkled just at the bridge, where she had a few faint freckles. ‘She must have had some reason for the way she was asking about you. Maybe she’s missing having someone to confide in.’

  ‘She’s incredibly self-reliant,’ he replied. ‘Her parents died young, she has a couple of good friends but she’s not one to need much in the way of emotional support.’

  Just then Flora barrelled in from the bar. ‘Tina says to tell you she’s locking up. Isaac, by the way, I sort of hinted to Hayley you missed Doggo more than you missed her. I think she was embarrassing Lily, fishing for information about you.’

  ‘Right. Thanks for rushing to my rescue,’ he said, in such a way that he could have been speaking to either woman. ‘Don’t worry. I don’t miss Hayley.’

  And that could have been directed at either woman, too.

  It was almost midnight, after he’d closed up and taken Doggo out for a quick last walk, checking everything was OK around the outside of the pub, when Isaac made his way to his room, yawning. He kicked off his shoes and stripped off his shirt, then took his phone out of h
is pocket and saw a text from Hayley.

  I didn’t mean to annoy you tonight. You’re right, I shouldn’t just turn up and expect things but I have a lot on my mind and I suppose I was insensitive. Is it possible for me to pick Doggo up and take him for a walk tomorrow (Saturday)?

  Isaac replied: That would be great as the pub will probably be busy all day. Afternoon? He hesitated, then added, I’m sorry if I was abrupt with you. He threw off the rest of his clothes and brushed his teeth before his phone chirped again.

  No problem. OK to pick Doggo up at two?

  He said it was, then went to bed reflecting that Hayley having a lot on her mind might be the reason she hadn’t snapped back at him when he’d been angry with her. She usually met any challenge to her behaviour with an icy salvo.

  Next day, she continued with the uncharacteristic restraint. After arriving punctually at two she waited quietly in the bar while Isaac fetched Doggo. She made no move to interact with his staff apart from to offer courteous smiles to Lorna behind the bar and Baz, waiting tables. Doggo flung himself at her, writhing in delight at her feet. When she turned for the door with his lead in her hand he burst into his rocking-horse gallop on the spot.

  She returned him nearly three hours later, and he was still waving his tail. ‘Here he is, safe and sound.’ She smiled brightly as Isaac came around the bar to take the lead. Then she crouched beside Doggo and gave him a big hug, her eyes becoming suddenly pink.

  It made Isaac wonder why on earth she gave Doggo up but she didn’t hang around and, after watching her hurry out, Isaac took Doggo upstairs no wiser as to the workings of Hayley’s mind.

  Chapter Eight

  Blackened kitchen units and ceiling, melted appliances and food packets, the warped blind at the window: they were like festering scars on Zinnia and George’s sweet little terraced house in Peterborough. The smoke had painted long black-brown shadows in the hall and sitting room too.

  George had burns to his hands and wasn’t allowed to help with the clear-up when Lily, Roma and Patsie drove over on Saturday afternoon. Zinnia hugged everyone and cried. Even if helping meant she didn’t get to singing practice, Lily knew she’d done the right thing as she watched her mum and Patsie bundle back their hair, roll up their sleeves and wage war against the greasy black soot. Later, as sleet whispered at the windows, they all squashed cosily into the sitting room together and ate fish and chips from a nearby takeaway.

  The next day, Sunday, Lily wasn’t due at the pub till evening so had plenty of time to devote to a planning meeting with Carola. It was only two weeks and one day before they’d be on their way to Switzerland! Owen cooked Sunday lunch in Carola’s large, well-equipped kitchen watching the grand prix on the kitchen TV through his trendy glasses while Lily and Carola sat at the dining room table with lists. They went over the programmes, who’d share rooms, a checklist for instruments and equipment. Lists, more lists, and lists of lists.

  Over the following couple of days Lily felt as if she ate and slept the Switzerland trip. After Max’s approval she sent the final files to the printer for clings, backdrops and signage – which would be applied by a crew in Schützenberg as she travelled from England and would be in place when she arrived – and reconfirmed details of the rented furniture for the trade fair stand. Then she sent her video loops to Max and copied in Kirstin, another contact on the show team.

  On Wednesday evening they rehearsed the songs to be performed at Food, Lifestyle & Health in programme order. At nine they took a break to eat fruit loaf Carola had made, then Lily broke out the black overshirts that had arrived earlier in the week.

  ‘This is a freakin’ tent!’ Eddie mocked, holding his up.

  ‘Or a bedspread,’ Warwick contributed, curling his lip as he inspected his shirt front and back.

  Warwick was never shy at voicing his opinion and knowing others often took their lead from him and seeing Charlotte and Emily already rolling girly eyes, Lily hastened to head him off before she got a chorus of, ‘Not wearing that!’ from the teenagers. ‘I don’t think they’ll be too big, actually. Everybody put your coat on and do it up. Now put the shirts over the top, and add your hat and scarf.’

  With a show of reluctance from some, everyone complied. ‘There! We look great,’ Carola said, adjusting the angle of her hat.

  ‘Oh, right, yeah, that’s better,’ Warwick conceded, while Emily threw him a red knitted hat.

  Good humour restored with a bit of hat pulling and scarf strangling, Carola got out her selfie stick and they all squashed together for a group photo to put up on the village Facebook page.

  ‘The red and black go well together,’ Neil said with satisfaction.

  ‘Not as crap as I expected,’ added Alfie, doubling his scarf and pulling the ends through the loop.

  Carola glanced at her phone. ‘Isaac’s commented on the pic I just put up on Facebook. He says come down to have our photo taken in the bar for the pub’s social media channels and he’ll stand us all a drink.’

  ‘Awesome!’ The teens turned as one and headed for the door, Franciszka and Neil in their wake.

  Lily rolled her eyes at Carola. ‘I’d hoped to get another run-through.’

  Carola sighed. ‘I shouldn’t have just read that out loud, should I? Eddie and Warwick are already eighteen so I definitely read the light of “free beer” in their eyes.’ Then she brightened. ‘Let’s go along though. I have an idea.’

  She refused to be drawn while the group hurried through the frosty evening and burst into the bar, cheeks almost as red as their hats. The bar was about half full and the group clustered around the bar while Isaac, as good as his word, gave them all a drink and, Lily noticed, paid for the round himself, using the contactless payment feature on his phone.

  ‘Right,’ he said, coming out into the customer area, his phone still in his hand. ‘Let’s get some photos of you with the bar in the background and all the Christmas lights above your heads. Tall people at the back and shorter in front.’

  That effectively meant the four males at the back and five women in the front to say, ‘Cheers!’ and raise their glasses at Isaac as he snapped shots. A couple of other people in the bar took pictures too and Carola, being very businesslike, called out, ‘Use the hashtags “Middletones” and “Middledip” if you’re putting us on social media.’

  ‘And “The Three Fishes”,’ Isaac added, sending Carola an approving look.

  But Carola was already organising the next shot. ‘How about a vid of us singing? Let’s begin with “Let it Snow”. We’ll have to do it unaccompanied but let me give you an E.’ She opened the musical keyboard app on her phone and touched the E key. ‘Ready, everyone? Three, two, one … Oh …’

  Well-rehearsed, the Middletones took the melody up, Neil filling with low boom boom booms between phrases; Franciszka, an alto, closing her eyes to join him in the harmonies.

  Isaac began to move slowly across the front of them with his phone on video and more phones appeared amongst the clientele. Carola made the ‘sing up!’ signal to what had now become their audience and several joined in, swaying as they sang. Melanie from the shop held hands with her boyfriend, sharing a table with Cleo and Justin, Cleo’s sister Liza and her blond husband, Dominic, Gabe, and another half-dozen people who Lily knew by sight.

  Lily felt the lift in her chest that came with blending her voice with the voices of others. She was boiling hot though and, without pausing in singing about snow not stoppin’, pulled off her hat and unwound her scarf, dropping both on the bar. Slowly, she pulled the overshirt over her head and then, after smoothing her hair and flipping it back over her shoulders, unpopped a button on her coat on the first beat of each bar, sliding her arms out of the sleeves just in time to follow the slowing tempo indicated by Carola’s conducting hand and to deliciously draw out the final snooooow.

  The makeshift audience burst into applause and, laughing, Lily glanced over at Isaac.

  His phone was still in his hand but his gaze
was unwaveringly fixed on her.

  She swallowed as she heard an echo of Zinnia referring to him as ‘His Hotness’. For several moments everyone else seemed to fade from the room.

  Then she became aware that the applause had ended and the others began to take off their overshirts and outdoor things too, heaping them on bar stools as Carola announced ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing’ and sounded an F on her phone app before counting them in.

  Lily joined in automatically, bringing her mind back to the well-known words, keeping Carola in her peripheral view for cues, letting her throat relax and the melody soar.

  Before long the Middletones had performed all of their short programme, which meant Carola and Lily had got the second run-through they’d wanted. The entire bar joined in with ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ and the Middletones broke formation to join those seated at tables and adding their voices to the general chat.

  Isaac returned to his post behind the bar beside Lorna as customers queued to be served. Lorna, probably the quietest of the bar staff, smiled at Lily. ‘That was lovely.’

  ‘Thanks.’ They chatted about the approach of Christmas and Lily watched drinks being poured. When the rush was over Isaac disappeared, probably to perform one of the dozens of jobs that fell to him – assessing the diary, making any adjustments to the staff rota, checking temperatures in the beer cellar. Lily carried her wine across the room to grab a place on a bench seat next to Carola, close to the fireplace she’d decorated with greenery.

  Isaac reappeared with Doggo wearing his harness and lead and a big canine grin. Isaac blew on his hands. ‘I’ve just taken Doggo for a comfort break. It’s Antarctica out there. As there are no other dogs in the bar right now I thought I’d bring him in for a bit of company.’

  Gabe, animal lover extraordinaire, beamed. ‘Quite right. Dalmatians get destructive if they’re left alone too much. It’s like putting them in prison.’ He gave Doggo a fuss around his ears, which made him shut his eyes in bliss.