by Jo Thomas
‘And I’m going to join a knitting group,’ says Norman. ‘Maybe start one up!’
‘I’m going to spend Christmas with the ones I love,’ says Pearl, and we all look at her. ‘You lot!’ she announces, with a wide smile. ‘How about we all pitch in? Get out of our flats and make a Christmas dinner to remember! Who cares if we forget the bread sauce or overcook the sprouts? I want to spend the day with the people closest to me. And that includes you, Connie,’ she says.
I look around for William. He is surrounded by people, excitedly asking about the gingerbread town. And then he looks round and sees me. We gaze at each other and the words we’ve been waiting for finally break us apart.
‘The judges are coming!’ someone says, from the back of the gathered group. Excitement and nerves fizzle in the snowy air.
A group of people in long dark coats, the castle owner’s family, his son and wife at the front, is approaching the square, having visited the New Town. It’s my time to leave. I catch William’s eye and mouth, ‘Good luck.’
He nods anxiously. I wish I could stay, but Heinrich will be expecting me.
As I walk away from the covered terrace, through the huts, and past the merry-go-round, everyone is coming away from the New Town, towards the gingerbread town, and I feel as if I’m walking the wrong way, against the crowd, feeling the pull in both directions. Heinrich is a good man. He’s the perfect match for me. And he lives here. I could be here more and more. But could I, if William was in the town living a new life with his wife? I don’t think I could. Argh! My head hurts as the questions whirl in it, and the snow, whipping around me, falls heavily. I pull my coat around me, and my hat down further over my ears.
I lower my head and walk over the bridge. I hear it before I see it. The music is pumping out. Loud dramatic operatic music. I look up. Heinrich is exactly where he’d said he’d be. By the specially made outside pavilion with flashing lights, music playing across the square out of speakers. I stop and stand. The cake is amazing. The colours, the swinging pendulum, creating a moving arm, carrying a large chocolate egg on an immaculately timed journey from the top of the cake to the bottom, landing with a boom and a flash each time. The drama of it is outstanding. Just as I imagined it would be.
‘Here!’ he says, holding out a long arm to the cake, under a big glass-like dome. Like a giant carriage clock. It is so much more than a cake. A landscape with swinging arms, carrying coloured eggs, and all in time to the lights and music. ‘You’re here!’ he says triumphantly. He bends to kiss me. I go to kiss his cheek as he makes for my lips. We clash noses.
‘Sorry,’ we say, and laugh. I know he’s embarrassed with everyone around him.
‘Wow!’ is all I can say, as I stare at the huge cake. ‘It’s amazing!’ I say, and Heinrich beams.
‘A piece of engineering genius!’ he boasts.
But not really a Christmas cake, a voice says in my head, and for a moment I wonder if I’ve said it aloud. But if I did, Heinrich hasn’t noticed. He is admiring the perfectly timed piece of engineering in front of him.
‘Ah, my team!’ he announces, as they come out from the factory, still wearing their white coats, hairnets and wellingtons, barely distinguishable from each other. Heinrich applauds them proudly, as do the bystanders around him. The ski slope is in full swing, as is the band on the other side of the square.
‘Come, the judging will happen on the bridge,’ says Heinrich, pulling me to him and kissing my forehead. ‘Are you ready?’
The excitement here is just as palpable as it is in the Old Town. Heinrich’s team, the stallholders and shopkeepers all start to walk in the direction of the bridge, where a crowd is gathering. He smiles down at me as we all move towards where the castle is lit up in all her pink and white brilliance, with a sparkling white tiara around the top.
We gather together on the bridge, watching the snow tumble and dance into the river below. It’s beautiful. Perfect, in fact.
I look around for Pearl, Anja and William but can’t see them.
‘Actually, Heinrich, I need to talk to you about something,’ I say, as the snow falls, tickling my face. ‘About you and me, where we go from here.’
‘And I you.’ He draws me to stand to one side of the bridge, away from the castle.
I look around again and finally see Pearl and William, Joseph, Anja and the others arriving on their side of the bridge. My heart actually skips. I turn to Heinrich, but he’s gone. I feel a tug on my hand and look down. He’s kneeling.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask, concerned.
He’s smiling up at me and suddenly the penny drops. Like one of the mechanical arms on his cake.
‘Connie.’ He looks at me, then at the magical setting, with the castle as its backdrop. ‘I said I would ask you by the end of your trip here. When we’d both had time to consider our future.’
‘Heinrich, please, do stand up.’
‘I’m doing it properly, Connie,’ he insists. ‘Connie.’ He pulls a small box out of his pocket and opens it. Everyone turns to us and sees Heinrich proposing. His parents included, taking pictures.
‘Rubies, your birthstone, right?’
My birthstone. I’m not sure that many of the dates I’ve met would even remember my birthday, let alone know my birthstone. Again, Heinrich’s thought of everything.
‘So what’s your answer. Will you marry me?’
It’s everything I could have wanted … on paper. Heinrich is the perfect man, and he is the perfect match I’ve been looking for. I look down at the box and the ring he’s placed in my hand. A ruby heart with diamonds surrounding it. Just stunning. So why isn’t my heart racing and skipping, and why am I forcing myself not to turn and look for William?
Heinrich is still kneeling – on a small kneepad, I notice. Always prepared. Everything planned for.
‘I …’ I open my mouth but the words don’t form.
Just then there is a crackle from the speakers at either end of the bridge. We all turn in the direction of the castle. The big, wide front door opens and the family of judges steps out onto the stone balcony there. Now everyone is watching them. Heinrich takes a moment to stand up, brushing off stray snowflakes and slipping his kneepad into his pocket. He straightens himself to his full height, and as he puts his arm around me, his smile spreads and his eyes sparkle as I look up at him. He’s gazing at the gathered family on the castle steps. It’s then I catch William’s eye and this time my heart skips and flips.
‘Thank you all for coming,’ says the short, round man. ‘My father would have loved this.’ Heinrich translates quietly into my ear, making it tickle and I feel a flutter of giggles, a combination of nerves and excitement as the crowd waits quietly. ‘As you all know, my father loved Christmas time. He loved the markets and the way they brought people together.’
Not any more. They’ve driven two communities apart, I think.
‘He left this fund to finance the market that showed the most initiative and flair with their markets and their Christmas celebration cake. The one that showed the spirit of Christmas, the town and its creators.’
Suddenly there’s a crackle on the microphone and the sound dips out. Pearl looks at Norman, who shrugs. Joseph pulls Anja, wrapped in her poncho, to him and Maeve rolls her wheelchair closer to the speaker.
I gaze up at the castle as the snow continues to fall. I try to take in everything that has just happened. Heinrich has just proposed with a beautiful ring that is now tightly in my palm. I have to decide whether I want to put it on my finger. My eyes are instinctively drawn to William and his to mine. Have I actually found what I was searching for, without knowing I wanted it?
Just at that moment, the microphone crackles back into life.
‘It’s time,’ Heinrich whispers, making me jump.
‘I am pleased to announce, the winner of this year’s Christmas Baking Competition, for its ingenuity and passion,’ he says, ‘without a shadow of a doubt, is …’ We hold our breath collectiv
ely. ‘And the recipient of the financial funding to go towards next year’s market is …’
Heinrich is still translating, then tips his head from side to side, with a huge smile and says, ‘The New Town!’
‘The Old Town!’ says the voice on the microphone, and Heinrich’s face drops in disbelief. And, without thinking, I shout and punch the air. Then I freeze.
FORTY-TWO
Heinrich is astonished, and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s lost the competition or that clearly I’m celebrating William and his town winning – a feeling that came straight from the heart and burst out of me.
I turn to Heinrich and take a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, Heinrich,’ I start.
‘About the fact that we didn’t win with our cake or that you seem to be delighted for William and his team?’
I bite my lip. I sigh. ‘They’re my team too,’ I say. ‘I helped make and design the gingerbread town. It was my fault that William’s cake was destroyed in the first place. I had to help.’
‘You helped?’
‘I had to put it right. It was my idea.’
He pulls himself up to his full height. ‘I see.’
His parents are bustling towards us.
‘I can’t believe it! I have to see this cake!’ his father is saying, and is heading over the bridge to the Old Town, somewhere I don’t think he’s ventured for a very long time.
‘And so, I’m guessing …’ He looks down at the space where he was kneeling just a few minutes earlier. The imprint of the kneepad is slowly being covered with snow, so there is barely a suggestion that it ever happened.
‘I’m sorry, Heinrich, I can’t marry you. I wanted to say yes. I really did. You are a lovely man. And there will be someone for you. The right person. But it isn’t me. I think we’d make brilliant friends. We like all the same things. But, well, you need to listen to your heart. Like I’m learning to listen to mine. It’s time we saw what was in front of us and stopped hiding behind our computer screens, too scared of getting it wrong. And your brother wouldn’t want you to be trying to live his life. He’d want you to live yours.’
‘I …’ He swallows. ‘I’m going to see my team.’ He points over his shoulder.
I look down at the ring in my hand and decide to hand it back to him later, when he’s on his own.
He turns to his team, who are disappointed, consoling each other. The tall woman, Klara, whom I’ve seen at the shop, pulls off her hat and hairnet, shakes out her blonde hair and unbuttons her white coat. Heinrich watches her, his eyes widening, as if he’s suddenly seeing her for the first time. They smile at each other and I smile too. He’ll be fine, I think. He turns and gives me a small wave, a wave of goodbye.
‘Goodbye, Heinrich,’ I say. ‘Good luck,’ I whisper, as the snow comes down over the river.
The crowds are heading towards the Old Town and Pearl is standing on the bridge with the others. It’s time. It’s time to say goodbye.
FORTY-THREE
‘Right,’ says Pearl, producing Elsie from her handbag, as we gather around her on the middle of the bridge.
‘Um, are we allowed to do this?’ asks Norman.
‘Bugger what we’re allowed to do!’ says Maeve. ‘We’ll be dead before they catch up with us!’ And for a moment everyone is silent, then Graham laughs and nods in agreement, as does everyone else.
‘Apart from Connie, of course, and she can just say she knew nothing about it. It was a bunch of loony pensioners she was driver for!’ says Pearl.
Only this bunch of people are so much more than loony pensioners. They’re my friends, as close as any family. Tears spring to my eyes again, and I have no idea why. Maybe I realize that William’s right, that sometimes the most unusual ingredients work best together. Pearl, the others and I have practically nothing in common on paper, but we care about each other, and that’s alchemy.
‘Who’s going to say a few words?’ asks Norman, looking down at Elsie in Pearl’s arms. Everyone turns to Pearl.
‘You’re the speaker, Pearl,’ says Norman.
‘I think you should do it, Norman,’ says Pearl, stepping back and handing Elsie to him.
Norman clears his throat and takes a moment to think, looking down at Elsie. Then he says, ‘Elsie, you have given us so much more than you could ever know, bringing us here and bringing us together.’ Everyone mutters in agreement. ‘You always said that Christmas made people smile, Elsie, and that was why you loved it. You have brought smiles to each and every one of us this week. Thank you. We only wish you were here with us. But I think you knew that you would be, and always will be when we think about our Christmas memories.’
He steps towards the wall of the bridge. We look out over the Old Town, lit with white fairy lights and the castle above us, smiling down from its rose-pink walls.
‘Goodbye, Elsie, Elisabetta,’ says Norman, and opens the urn over the edge of the bridge and shakes it. The little flakes of ash fly out and upwards, joining in the big fat snowflakes as they fall, like fairies from the sky, over the water, making us all smile.
We stand and stare as the last of the ashes flies up and away, mingling and dancing with the sparkling snow, then into the glistening river below.
‘Goodbye, Elsie,’ I say quietly. ‘Thank you for making me remember to listen to my heart.’ I hold my fingers to my lips and send a kiss into the flurry of snowflakes.
‘Now,’ says Pearl, after a suitable pause, ‘I think it’s time we went and raised a glass of glühwein to Elsie and to William’s bakery.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ says Norman, and everyone agrees, clearing their throats and blowing their noses.
‘Just perfect,’ I say. ‘Just perfect …’ and Pearl links her arm through mine.
‘Think I’ve got something in my eye,’ Ron says, bringing up the rear of the group as we walk away for our final night together.
FORTY-FOUR
As we approach the Old Town and join the ever-increasing crowd heading that way, I look up at the clock tower. Nearly six o’clock. I can’t wait to see William and congratulate him. William, I say to myself, and a big smile spreads across my face. As the bell in the clock tower chimes, I say, ‘Pearl, there’s somewhere I need to be. Someone I need to see.’ I grin.
‘Okay, love, you go.’ She pats my hand and smiles. ‘And good luck!’ she calls after me, as I hurry through the crowds to the sound of the bell.
This time there are no tick lists or questions. It’s just about listening to my heart. It’s about William and needing to be with him. To tell him I’m not marrying Heinrich. I’m free, if he still wants to … To what? Kiss me? Take me to bed? Spend the rest of his life with me? All of the above, tick, tick, tick.
The snow falls, like glittery feathers, all around me as I run to the square, squeezing past people on the narrow streets and emerging into it. I feel like I’ve run into a snow globe, right in the middle of my happy place.
The square is packed. Everyone is heading towards the gingerbread village, where the judges are congratulating Joseph.
I take a deep breath and turn to look at the big Christmas tree in front of the clock tower, just as the last bell rings. My heart leaps and swirls, as if someone’s given the snow globe a gentle shake. He’s there!
I take a deep breath, lift an arm and rise on tiptoe so he can see me. He’s holding something in both hands. I can’t see what it is. But I can’t wait to find out. This is how Christmas should feel. Full of hope, happiness and new beginnings. Full of love, for those we’re with, those we miss and those we’ve found. This is the best feeling, ever! I don’t know what the future holds but, right now, it feels full of promise and excitement. That’s what I fell in love with at seventeen, not the young man whose letters petered out. It was love of life, of promise and possibility.
I see him check the clock. He’s on time. For once. For me! And so am I.
I call his name and wave. He spots me and waves back. And as I go to join him through the crowds, I
hear his name being called, in a voice that isn’t mine.
‘William! Papa!’
William’s head snaps round. He sees his son, waving and trying to get to him through the crowds, who are sipping glühwein, meeting and greeting friends, families heading to the ice rink.
‘We won!’ Noah shouts and finally gets clear of the crowds and runs towards his dad. William opens his arms, still holding whatever it is in one hand, and lets his son run into them. They hug each other, their eyes closed, clinging to something they nearly lost and have found again. He spins his son round, holding him tightly. Suddenly I’m homesick, very homesick indeed. I’d give anything for one of those hugs from my boy right now. But that’s not to be. I just have to remember them and think about them, like the memories in the gingerbread town.
I shut my eyes hard and remember the gingerbread house, and the feeling of being loved. It’s there, in the gingerbread town, full of love. I slowly open my eyes and then I see her, standing at a distance from the Christmas tree. She steps forward, puts an arm around his neck and kisses his cheek. His son looks ecstatic. This must be Marta. William’s wife. Then William looks at me, clearly torn. I try to smile, and wave.
‘You go!’ I say. ‘Enjoy!’ And I mean it. I want him to enjoy his time with his son. And Marta, if that’s what he wants. I want him to be happy. I want what he wants for himself. His son tugs at his arm excitedly, and still he’s looking back at me, apologizing. I wave again, and step back into the crowds, my heart racing and my tears falling. Much the same place as I started on this trip. Only I’ve found what I’m looking for: I just know I can’t have it. It wasn’t meant to be. My moment has gone. But I would have taken it, if I could. I would have followed my heart, wouldn’t I? I guess I’ll never know. I feel myself slipping back to the safety behind my computer screen and trusting to my tick list … because clearly my heart can’t be trusted.
