Christmas at The Little Duck Pond Cafe: (Little Duck Pond Cafe, Book 3)

by Rosie Green

  Jaz frowns. ‘I just think we need to do something. That’s bloody evil, deliberately making Maisie feel ill.’

  I chew my lip, thinking hard. I know where the hotel is. If I set off now I might even be able to get there before Sophie. But I’m quaking inside at the thought of confronting Sophie and having to tell Zak about the ice-cream.

  Apart from the fact that I absolutely hate confrontation of any kind, I’m worried that I might just make things worse. What if there’s a perfectly innocent explanation for the ice-cream wrapper and they get annoyed with me for interfering? What will Ellie think of me then?

  Also, am I really brave enough to take action all by myself? Obviously Jaz can’t come with me because she has to stay and look after Maisie . . .

  I know what Rob would say.

  An image of him doing his super hero power stance on Brighton beach flashes into my mind, and my mouth curves up at the memory.

  I adopt the pose, raising my arms decisively in the air and shouting, ‘I will do this!’

  ‘What the . . . ?’ Jaz is staring at me in amazement.

  I grin. ‘It’s just a technique Rob taught me to help me feel confident. I’m going down there to find Zak.’

  ‘You are?’ Jaz’s eyes open wide in astonishment. ‘Blimey, Fen, that’s some technique.’

  ‘It’s working. I’m off. Wish me luck!’

  Jaz shouts, ‘Go girl!’ spurring me on as I dash out to the car.

  On the drive down there, my stomach churns the whole way, thinking about what I’ll say to Zak - but I know I have to do it. For Ellie’s sake. And Maisie’s.

  Sophie is clearly pulling out all the stops to get back with Zak – even going to the extreme length of making her own daughter ill so she can spend time alone with him. It seems clear that in coming to Sunnybrook, Sophie was never really interested in Maisie at all – except as a way of getting back with her ex.

  Ellie and Maisie are uppermost in my mind as I race in the direction of The Gables Country House Hotel . . .

  *****

  I overtake Sophie on the way down, slouching down in my seat so she hopefully won’t spot it’s me. Then I drive as fast as I legally can to make it to the hotel before she does.

  Arriving in the car park, I immediately spot Zak’s car and breathe a sigh of relief. With a bit of luck, I can tell him what’s happened before Sophie arrives.

  A girl at reception calls his room, tells him I’m here to see him and then says I can go straight up. She gives me his room number and I take the lift, my heart beating frantically.

  I can’t remember when I last did anything that involved me being quite so brave and pro-active. Never, probably. But it seems like the right thing to do and I even feel as if I have Rob beside me, giving me the confidence!

  Zak looks surprised to see me, as well he might.

  ‘Hi, Fen. Come in. I was expecting Sophie and Maisie. Is something wrong?’

  So I explain about the ice-cream and about Maisie feeling too ill to travel. And he frowns and says Sophie knows all about the milk allergy. When I tell him that Sophie is on her way here, without Maisie, his face changes as the penny drops.

  He looks furious. I really wouldn’t want to be Sophie right at this moment.

  ‘Thanks, Fen, for driving all this way. I can’t imagine what Ellie would have thought if she knew we’d been here together, without Maisie.’ He frowns. ‘And no doubt Sophie would have found a way to let her know.’

  ‘I think Sophie has an agenda that she was keeping all to herself,’ I murmur, and Zak sinks down onto the bed and sighs, running his hands wearily through his dark hair.

  ‘I wanted to believe her motives in coming here were good – for Maisie’s sake.’ He looks up at me, worry etched on his face. ‘But it seems Ellie might have been right to be concerned.’

  ‘You were in a difficult situation. But now you can put it right.’

  He nods, getting to his feet. ‘Time to get back to Sunnybrook. With a bit of luck, we might be gone from here before Sophie arrives.’

  ‘Will you do me a favour, Zak?’ I ask.

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘Don’t tell Ellie I drove down here to warn you.’

  ‘Why not?’

  I shrug miserably. ‘She doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. And I don’t want to annoy her any more than I already have.’

  *****

  It’s the following day and we’re all jittery as anything knowing Dad is having his operation this afternoon.

  The plan is for all three of us to go into the hospital at lunchtime and see Dad before he goes in. Then Mum and I will stay there and spend an anxious hour or two waiting for him to come out of theatre. I’m dreading the wait but I need to be there when he comes out – and I can sense Mum is relying on me to keep her calm.

  I’d asked Ellie a day or so ago if it was all right for me to bake for the café the night before so I could have the day of the operation to concentrate on Dad, and she said, ‘Yes, of course, that’s fine. Please give him my love.’

  It was the most she’d spoken to me since the day we fell out - but it was hardly enough to raise my hopes that we could get our friendship back on track.

  After a breakfast that none of us can face, I wander over to the barn where Rob is finishing the furniture and creating a sign to hang by the front door.

  ‘So today’s the day,’ he says, looking up as I enter.

  ‘Yes. I just wish it were over. I can’t bear the tension. Oh, Rob, I just need him to be okay.’

  He nods in sympathy. ‘I remember doing the same for my Gran. The wait was horrible. But she was – is – fine.’

  ‘That’s good,’ I say, feeling slightly encouraged.

  ‘What about Ellie? Are you two speaking again?’

  I shake my head sadly.

  He frowns. ‘But I thought after yesterday things would be okay again. That was some emergency dash you did to let Zak know what Sophie was up to!’

  I smile sheepishly. ‘It was, wasn’t it? I quite surprised myself. I used your super hero technique.’

  He grins broadly. ‘You did?’

  ‘Yeah. It seems to work.’

  ‘Of course it does. So was Ellie not grateful that you and Jaz worked out what Sophie was up to?’

  ‘I told Zak not to tell her about my part in it.’

  ‘Why?’

  I shrug. ‘After discovering the truth about Ethan, I sent her three texts and left two messages, all saying that she was right and that Ethan had turned out to be a low-life scumbag. And not my dashing hero, after all. But she hasn’t replied and she’s still not talking to me.’

  ‘That must be really awkward with you working together.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ I murmur mournfully.

  ‘So don’t communicate in texts. Go and see her and tell her face-to-face. Make her listen.’

  ‘Can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Scared.’

  ‘You were brave enough to tell Zak what Sophie was up to.’

  ‘This is different.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Because . . .’ I swallow hard, hot tears pricking at my lids. ‘Because I can’t bear the thought that she might reject me again. And then I’ll have to face the fact that I might have lost my best friend forever.’

  There’s a silence. Then Rob says softly, ‘Perhaps it’s time for action, not words.’

  I glance up at him questioningly.

  And Rob reminds me about something we saw at the Christmas Fayre in Brighton that time. As soon as he starts talking about it, I start feeling hopeful. Like he really might be onto something . . .

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Dad is fairly cheerful about his impending operation, which makes it so much easier on us, although my stomach is in knots nonetheless.

  We sit by his bed and chat about this and that, keeping it fairly light. And then the nurse comes to get him prepared for theatre and we kiss him and Mum and I ret
reat to a waiting room. Rich, as usual, is itching to be away.

  The wait is agonising.

  Dr Neville told us that the operation was a routine one, which gave us hope that it was likely to turn out okay for Dad. But nothing is ever certain.

  Mum is quiet. She’s pretending to read a magazine but every few minutes, she lets it rest in her lap and stares into space. Or she stares down at the sapphire and diamond engagement ring and wedding band on her finger.

  I don’t even pretend to read. I’m too aware of Mum and what she must be feeling to concentrate on much else. If this is devastating for me, how much worse is it for her?

  When the surgeon comes into the waiting room, I leap up. My heart surges into my mouth then starts hammering so fast, I feel quite breathless.

  This is it, then!

  The news is good. The operation has gone according to plan and Dad is expected to make a full recovery. We’ll be able to go in and see him later when the anaesthetic has worn off.

  I laugh with relief and start thanking the surgeon so profusely, the poor man looks mildly embarrassed.

  Mum is silent, still sitting in her chair with the magazine on her knee.

  The surgeon leaves and I sink back down into the chair next to Mum, feeling a weight rolling off my shoulders. Of course we’re not out of the woods yet with Dad, but the operation went well – and for now, that’s enough for me.

  Beside me, Mum makes a funny little noise in her throat and I turn.

  There’s a tortured look on her face, as if she’s trying hard to suppress her emotions but losing the battle.

  My own eyes are wet with tears. ‘Let it go, Mum.’ I smile and draw her into a hug. ‘It’s allowed.’

  At that, she gives a huge shuddery breath and relaxes her weight against me. And then she sobs her heart out, all the pent-up fear and anxiety since Dad got ill pouring out of her in a never-ending stream that’s now mixed with relief.

  I cling on to her, letting my own tears flow unchecked.

  Two words are running through my brain on repeat. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you . . .’ I’m not entirely sure who or what I’m grateful to – apart from the medical team, of course - but profoundly thankful is exactly what I am!

  ‘How would I have got through these last few days without you, Fen?’ Mum sobs, clinging to me tightly as if she’s never going to let me go. ‘You’ve been wonderful, love.’

  ‘It’s okay, Mum. It’s okay.’

  At last her sobs die away and she sits up and blows her nose fiercely.

  ‘Sorry, love,’ she says, shaking her head.

  ‘Don’t apologise. You’ve been under the most horrible stress.’

  She looks at me with a sad smile. ‘Actually, Fen, I want to apologise. I need to.’

  ‘What for?’ I stare at her in surprise.

  She takes my hand in both of hers. ‘When you said what you did about me putting my trust in Rich and not you, I was shocked. And actually quite devastated. Because I think the absolute world of you, Fen, and I never in a million years would want you to think otherwise.’

  I shake my head. ‘It’s fine, Mum, really . . . it was an argument about nothing.’

  She sighs. ‘It wasn’t nothing and I’m really ashamed of myself.’

  ‘But there’s no need to be . . .’

  ‘Fen, let me speak. Allow me to feel ashamed.’ She gives a weary smile. ‘I’ve been guilty of trying to shake you out of your shyness . . . urging you to do things you didn’t want to do. Instead of letting you be who you are.’

  I shrug. ‘We’re very different, Mum. I’ve always known that. You’re much more like Rich . . .’

  She shakes her head. ‘No, Fen. I’m much more like you. And that’s been the problem.’

  I stare at her. ‘What do you mean? I’m nothing like you. You’re confident and you’d never dream of letting anyone walk over you. You stand up for yourself and others and I wish I could be more like that.’

  She smiles. ‘It’s just an act.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It is. I know you’ll find it hard to believe but when I was younger I was painfully shy, and I was bullied at school because of it.’

  ‘Really?’ Is she just saying this to make me feel better about my own shyness? ‘But you never told me . . .’

  ‘No, I never told anyone. I put it behind me and tried to forget about it. It was a horrible period in my life. For a time I had no friends at school and I felt really alone. And then my mum – your lovely gran, bless her – told me her secret. That she was really shy deep down but she’d learned to put on an act and pretend she had confidence in herself. After a while of pretending, it started to feel real. So I decided that’s what I’d do. And to my surprise, it worked.’

  I stare at her, trying to process all of this.

  Mum was painfully shy, just like me?

  I can hardly believe it.

  ‘I know.’ She laughs, reading my thoughts. ‘You’d never know it, would you? I’ve become so accomplished at acting like I’m never nervous or lacking in self-belief, that it might even have become real!’

  I shake my head in disbelief.

  ‘Only your dad knows that I quake in my shoes before a big event like the Snow Ball. But I force myself to walk out there and hold my head high. And every time I do that, it feels like one in the eye for those horrible school bullies.’

  ‘Wow.’ I shake my head, trying to take all this in. ‘Rob told me about his way of feeling confident in a tricky situation. It’s pretty cool, actually. You get into the shoes of a super hero and feel the power.’

  Mum nods. ‘He’s a wise boy. I like Rob a lot.’

  ‘Me, too.’ I find myself unexpectedly colouring up.

  ‘But anyway, when you turned out to be such a shy little thing, I felt so overwhelmingly protective of you. I was terrified you’d be bullied at school like I was. And so if I’ve tried to push you to do things you felt you couldn’t do, it was only because I hoped you would see that you really could succeed at whatever you put your mind to.’ She gazes at me mournfully. ‘Now, I realise I went about it in entirely the wrong way. My intentions were good, but all I managed to do was alienate you and make you think I wasn’t proud of you. Which by the way, I am. Hugely. I actually couldn’t be more proud of the way you’ve coped with your dad’s illness and looked after me and Rich at the same time.’

  Tears are glistening in her eyes. ‘Ethan Fox is a fool, Fen. There’s someone out there who’s so much more worthy of you, my love.’

  A painful lump rises in my throat and I suddenly feel that if the floodgates were to open now, I might never get them closed again.

  Then we look at each other and we both laugh at once, defusing the tension and emotion.

  ‘Come on,’ says Mum cheerfully. ‘Let’s go and grab another of those foul coffees.’

  ‘Don’t knock it, Mum. It’s kept us going while we’ve been in here!’

  She laughs. ‘True. But I definitely won’t miss it once your dad gets to go home.’

  ‘Let’s hope that’s very soon,’ I murmur, as we set off on the well-trodden route to the hospital café.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  It’s almost midnight in the Brambleberry Manor kitchen and I still haven’t finished the huge project I started on at two o’clock this afternoon.

  It’s no surprise, really.

  Because this job is big and extremely complicated.

  On a scale of one to ten where one is easy and ten is fiendishly frustrating and impossibly intricate, we’re definitely talking a nine-and-a-half.

  But it’s starting to take shape and I’m learning as I go. Royal icing is proving invaluable in the process of sticking parts together – and it’s also good for mending sections that have accidentally broken on the way from the oven to the work top.

  The Christmassy aromas of cinnamon, mixed spice and ginger fill the room, and when I glance out of the window, I see to my delight that it�
��s started snowing. And it’s for real this time. No help from a snow-making machine . . .

  By the time I finally fall into bed, it’s creeping round to three o’clock, but I’m happy with the result of my efforts.

  I only hope Ellie will be, too . . .

  *****

  ‘You’re not really leaving Sunnybrook, are you?’ I wail at Jaz when she opens the door to her flat later that day. I keep hoping she’ll change her mind about the job.

  Her eyes open wide at the sight of what I’m carrying. I have to peer around it to actually make eye contact.

  She ushers me through to the kitchen. ‘Wow, that’s . . . incredible. Do you want to put it down there.’

  I grin. ‘Yes, please. My arms are breaking. It’s deceptively heavy.’ I deposit my treasure very carefully on the table. I really don’t want any more breakages. ‘What does Harry think of you accepting the job?’

  She folds her arms and sighs. ‘He says he doesn’t want me to go, but I’m not sure I believe him.’

  ‘Why on earth not?’

  ‘Well, he hasn’t told me he’d really miss me if I went, or anything like that. In fact, he hasn’t made any effort at all to change my mind. You and Ellie have been far more vociferous on the subject of my departure than him.’ She shrugs. ‘Not that it matters, because I’m going anyway. No matter what Harry thinks.’

  I study her, shaking my head. ‘I can’t help feeling you might be cutting off your nose to spite your face, Jaz.’

  ‘How’s that?’ She glares at me indignantly. ‘It’s a fantastic opportunity.’

  ‘Yes, but won’t you miss Harry if you go?’

  She shakes her head. ‘Nothing to miss. I hardly ever see him.’

  I sigh with frustration. ‘Okay, but you’re bound to miss us. Ellie and me.’

  She screws her face up. ‘Not really.’

  She catches my eye and we both burst out laughing.

  I glance at my watch. Jaz will have to get a move on. She’s promised to take my cumbersome gift on the final leg of its journey – to the Little Duck Pond Café.

  As I’m leaving, I look back at the kitchen table anxiously.

  Jaz grins. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get it there in one piece.’