Love, Lies and Lemon Cake

by Jayne Bartholomew

  “They’re too expensive!” But like a magpie in love her eyes didn’t leave the glimmering item.

  James grinned. “So that’s settled then.” He took out his wallet and handed over a couple of notes to the delighted stall holder before Kate could say anything else.

  “Would you like a bag?”

  “Oh no, thank you, I’ll wear them now.” Her face was lit up with excitement as she put them on and turned back to the mirror. “Thank you so much!” Impulsively she gave James a hug and a quick kiss that caught the edge of his lips. Their eyes met in surprise but Ruffles chose that moment to pull on his leash and broke the spell.

  As they went back to dawdling along the stalls, James thought that if he could bottle that brief moment of her lips on his he would’ve bought the entire stall.

  “Aha, I think I’ve found something I can give you for Christmas!” Kate beamed at him.

  James looked around the fluffy candlestick holders lined up on the stall in front of them in alarm. “Really?”

  “Yes, I hope you like it.” Kate pointed upwards at a sprig of mistletoe hanging above their heads.

  “You know, I think it might be the best present I get all year.” He put his arm around her and pulled her in.

  December

  Sitting on a bar stool in the pub, Mark slowly worked his way down Tamara’s must-have wedding list with a pencil and circled the items he needed to research on Google. He had thought that hiring a wedding planner would rein in her spending habit, but whenever he mentioned cost all he got back were withering looks. He didn’t want to come across cheap but at this rate his father’s kindly given contribution wouldn’t even cover the canapés.

  It wasn’t simply the wedding itself that was getting out of hand. His ex-colleagues from the city wanted to book their annual snowboarding trip and that alone would cost a small fortune. Shame it was too far away from the wedding date to be able to call it a stag do.

  The only good piece of news he’d had recently was when Tamara had decided that Christmas was an overly commercialised event and informed Mark that they would be going abroad to escape the unbearable tackiness. She had been gifted the flights and hotel from a designer label in return for wearing their new range of winter scarves, so at least the trip wouldn’t cost him anything. At the prospect of a free holiday Mark had obediently agreed with her but as he sat in the cosy pub his mind floated up to the attic above him and the boxes of baubles and tinsel that Pam had been stashing away. This year she said the look she was going for was traditional German-style Christmas meets sugar-crazed elf. She had tried to explain the finer points to him but he’d been laughing too hard to hear her. He laughed a lot with Pam; she really didn’t take herself, or anything else for that matter, too seriously.

  He turned the page and wondered if there was any chance Santa would deliver a pink “grand pandal”? Mark sighed, probably not. He circled it along with the other exotic must-haves that he didn’t understand.

  “Another pint?” Pam nodded to his empty glass with a smile.

  “Go on then, you talked me into it.”

  Pam put the drink down in front of him before also presenting him with a plate of onion rings. “On the house. I can’t bear to see a man miserable or hungry and you’re looking both tonight.”

  Mark gazed down at the greasy pile of carbs and gave Pam a grateful smile. She passed him the salt and leaned over to squeeze a good dollop of ketchup onto the side of his plate. Mark suddenly realised he was sitting plate to cleavage and desperately tried to keep eye contact.

  She hooked an onion ring and swirled it in the ketchup. “Want to talk about it?”

  In the kitchen upstairs, Mark’s phone started ringing. Sam was passing so he picked it up and ran down the stairs to the public area meaning to hand it over to him. However, when Sam reached the bar he saw his mum and the lodger sharing food and laughing. He paused.

  His mum looked happier than he’d seen her in ages and he thought, why bother spoiling the moment? Ducking back upstairs, out of danger of being heard Sam answered the call himself.

  “Hello, Mark’s phone?”

  There was a time delay on the other end before a surprised-sounding woman answered. “Oh… hi… is Mark there?”

  “Not at the moment. I can give him a message if you want though?”

  “Um, well, could you tell him Tamara called? I’m on location so I’m using a different number, could you pass it on to him?” In the background there was the sound of monkeys howling.

  “Sure.” Sam waited until she gave him her number before ending the call and putting Mark’s phone back where he’d found it, without leaving the woman’s number or her message. He took another peek at his mum and Mark sharing a joke.

  Mark seemed all right, he thought. It was nice having another bloke around, otherwise he usually felt a bit out-hormoned by his mum and sister. His mum could do a lot worse.

  He reached into his school bag for a pad and pen and wrote at the top of a new page “Dad List”. Sam had felt utterly betrayed by his own dad when he went off with the waitress and wanted nothing to do with him, but the idea of having a hand in selecting a replacement appealed to him.

  The first item on the list was “must play football with me”.

  “…So that’s the long and short of it,” said Mark, “I’m engaged to a woman I can’t afford and apparently I can’t talk to either. I should tell her what’s happened but in four months I haven’t found the right moment. Four months! The two weeks she was out of the country were the most relaxed I’ve felt in ages. I’m out of my depth and I don’t know what to do.”

  Pam poured herself a gin and tonic and opened a packet of peanuts. “Sounds like you’re screwed. Still, at least you’ll have a nice tan in January.”

  “Thanks,” he said dryly but couldn’t help grinning as he watched Pam bustling behind the bar and slowly felt the tension ease from his shoulders. It usually did when he was with her; there was something very uncomplicated about how she saw the world that was somehow reassuring.

  From her position in the lounge, Penny could hear snatches of the conversation winding to a close in the hallway.

  “Not at all… absolutely… I completely understand… Of course you must stay with us while it’s being fixed…”

  She added a final bauble to an already well stocked tree and moved her present to Edward into a better light so that the expensive wrapping paper caught the burnished gold twinkle of the fairy lights. For the first time in years she was ahead of her preparations and she could welcome in the day calmly, like she imagined everyone else did. If another person, as it sounded, was going to be joining them later on in the festivities then they would find her relaxed and welcoming. It might even be fun to have a big group this year.

  On the radio Bing was singing about White Christmases and a fire crackled in the hearth. Penny poured herself a generous swig of Baileys, sat back in an armchair and kicked off her slippers. Life was good.

  In the hallway life was starting to unravel for Edward. His father was having plumbing problems and wanted to stay with them over Christmas. Since the death of his mother their relationship had been strained and after his father married someone thirty years his junior with an IQ only slightly greater than her bra size their relationship had all but broken down. He risked a look into the lounge to judge Penny’s mood and found her draining the last of her drink. He couldn’t remember buying such a large bottle of Baileys; last year they’d to make do with half a bottle of off-code sherry for the whole festive period. He felt a rush of pride; his wife was really making their money stretch this year.

  Edward decided diversionary tactics were in order. “Darling, can I get you another drink?”

  “Only if you have one with me.”

  Edward bent down to open the door of a crammed drinks cabinet. “It’s full!”

  Penny felt her throat constrict. “Well, I’ve been putting by this and that all year and we never drink anything usually.
”

  “I really don’t know how you do it,” Edward said with wonder, taking her glass. “I can’t remember the last time there was a choice. Is this… is this Talisker?” he said incredulously as the heady aroma of the twenty-year-old single malt filled the room.

  “Oh, you know me and bargains. I think the local shop was doing a deal after the last Christmas. They were practically paying people to take it away. They must have over-stocked.” She stopped, aware that she was over-explaining. “Who was on the phone?”

  “Ah, that was Dad.” Edward passed her the drink.

  “How is he? Thank you.”

  “He’s says he’s having plumbing problems; well, to be more accurate he said his bathroom floor fell into his kitchen. He’s asked if he can come and stay with us for a while.”

  “Why not?” The Baileys was relaxing parts of Penny that mince pies alone failed to reach. “Is he coming with Boobzilla?”

  “Not this time, apparently they’ve separated again.” Edward sat in the armchair opposite Penny and put his feet up on the foot rest next to hers. “Are you sure you’re all right with that? It does mean that there’ll be seven of us for dinner.”

  “Seven? The two of us, Ruth, Hilary; although I haven’t asked her yet; your father, who are the other two?”

  “Brenda and Janet from the floral society. We talked about it back in September.”

  “Did we?”

  Aware that he was losing ground, Edward rubbed the side of Penny’s foot with his own. “I’ll help out in any way I can?”

  “You’ll be busy, as usual!” Penny took a deep breath. “Meddling Camilla and her creepy husband, Paul, asked us over for an evening supper on Christmas day so I should just be grateful that we’ll be too busy to be able to accept. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine, I’ll just make up a couple more dishes of nibbles, hope they all bring a bottle of wine that’s drinkable and it will be fine.”

  “I promise to help with the dishes.”

  “This year that might not actually be a problem.” Penny smiled warmly at Edward and tried to think for the umpteenth time how to explain away the in-coming dishwasher.

  As shoppers finished off their last-minute errands, Kate and Ruffles were taking a quick walk before going over to James’ for the evening. She had started painting again and had spent a good part of her salary on rich colours to spread over a huge canvas back home. Having spent years dodging routine and always making sure she could never be seen as predictable, she had relaxed into her surroundings. Gradually, she was forgetting why she travelled so much. She was reminded with a jolt when a hand reached out from the shadows and pulled her into an unlit side street.

  A familiar aftershave behind her identified the hand that covered Kate’s mouth and silenced the scream that tried to escape. Her left wrist was grabbed and twisted high behind her back until she was forced to drop to her knees. The pain quickly drew tears to her eyes.

  In the darkness Kate was flooded with memories she had tried so hard to bury.

  Galvanised into action, Ruffles yapped and barked wildly. Rushing forward he bit hard at the man’s ankle but was silenced by a swift kick. In the action of kicking the dog he briefly let go of Kate’s mouth.

  “Don’t do that! I…” Kate tried to move towards the cowering dog but Ryan twisted harder on her wrist and the words trickled to a whimper.

  Cold from the cobbles she was kneeling on was seeping through her jeans to the skin underneath and a quietness had fallen over the street she had been taken from. No one was going to come to her rescue.

  “Hello, Kate.” The deep voice that whispered in her ear sent a chill down her spine. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? You’re looking well, being back in England obviously agrees with you.”

  She was frozen, she wouldn’t have been able to move even if a herd of elephants had been stampeding towards her.

  “Ryan,” Kate whispered.

  “Didn’t expect to see me again, did you? I’ve been following you with interest and, you know, it’s almost as if you never wanted to see me again. But then I thought, not my little Katie; my Katie would never be so rude as to walk out on me and never look back.”

  Now she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, paralysing her, slowly draining her of any ability to retain coherent thought.

  “How did you find me?”

  “I knew you’d never be able to resist coming to see Laura’s baby, so when I found out you’d left Rome all I had to do was wait for you to turn up here. Her coma was the icing on the cake, gave me lots of time to really look forward to meeting up with you again.”

  Kate felt him move her hair to one side and kiss the side of her neck; she shuddered.

  “I see you’ve been making new friends all over the place, haven’t you? I have to say though that I’m not thrilled you’re spending so much time with the teacher. He looks like a nice sort; it would be such a shame if something happened to that school of his, wouldn’t it?”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Do you want to see what I’m capable of - I told you what would happen if you left me, do you really want to find out if I meant it?”

  From somewhere to their left she could hear footsteps coming closer and the grip on her wrists was released.

  “We’ll speak again soon.”

  Just as suddenly as she was snatched, Kate found herself alone again, gasping for breath before picking up Ruffles and her shopping in one movement and breaking into a sprint all the way back to her canal boat.

  Penny stood on the doorstep of Laura and Andy’s house waiting for someone to answer the door. The morning deliveries had revealed a beautiful blanket made from organic bamboo. She had only entered that particular competition out of curiosity but as she lifted it from the tissue-lined box she realised how special it was. It felt like silk to the touch but behaved like cotton, it was the perfect material for a baby.

  The cold air was starting to get to her and she hopped from one foot to the other, trying not to lose circulation. From inside she heard a door shut and footsteps coming down the stairs. Penny had met Hilary briefly when she had visited Laura but hospitals aren’t suitable places to get to know someone well.

  Hilary opened the door with some caution. She had come from a city where neighbours didn’t just pop around and anyone ringing your doorbell in daylight hours was either after your vote, your money, your business or acting as a decoy while someone nipped into your garden to steal the lawn mower.

  “Penny, how nice to see you again.”

  “Hi, I just thought I’d nip around as this blanket arrived in the post this morning and I wondered if Suzie might like it?”

  “Really? How thoughtful, please, come in.” Hillary stepped back for Penny to walk past her and through to the kitchen.

  Blissfully relieved of the cold weather, Penny moved down the corridor and stood, feeling out of place, by the kitchen table in the middle of the room. Everything was exactly as Laura had left it, except a bit cleaner, and Penny half expected to turn around and find her pottering about. The room, for all its warm, deep colours and terracotta walls seemed strangely vacant and there was a slightly expectant atmosphere. An incomplete home makes for a disconcerting refuge.

  “Would you like a tea or coffee?”

  “A tea would be nice, thank you. It wasn’t just the blanket actually, I wondered if you’d like to join us at the vicarage for Christmas dinner this year?” Penny fiddled with her bag, trying to find the right words. “I meant to come by earlier but what with one thing and another, I hope I haven’t left it too late and you’ve made other arrangements?”

  Hilary shook her head. “I was half thinking of checking my own home is still standing as I think Andy will want to spend the day at the hospital with Suzie, but to be honest I wasn’t looking forward to the journey. Yes, if you’re sure, that sounds wonderful.”

  “Brilliant. Come around mid-day and you can meet the others, it’s very informal and people tend to pop in
throughout the afternoon. Ruth will be there, if I can tear her away from her laptop!”

  “She came around the other day and started telling me about all the competitions she’s entering; it sounded like she was having fun.” Hilary gestured for Penny to sit down and pulled out a chair for herself before moving over to the kettle instead. “She doesn’t actually win as much as she says she does though, does she?”

  Penny grinned. “All the time, it’s incredible. In fact I’m going there this afternoon to see her new hot tub. She won that prize a couple of months ago but it’s been slow arriving.”

  “A hot tub? Well, that’s very impressive, and you won something too; a blanket! What are the chances of both of you winning a prize in the same month?”

  “Um… actually quite high.” Penny sat down. “I’ll tell you all about our naughty little secret if you promise not to tell on us.”

  Hilary finished busying herself around the kitchen filling two mugs with hot tea and then joined Penny at the kitchen table.

  “So… what’s the secret? I can’t imagine it’s unbearably naughty?”

  Penny giggled. “Well, we’re addicted to entering competitions!”

  Hilary looked blank. “Addicted?”

  “Lots of them, all the time, hundreds of competitions a week! Probably thousands each month.”

  “Really?”

  “Our lives are revolving around Spot the Ball and entering codes from yogurt pots. We spend hours at a time on the internet trawling for competitions.” Penny gushed on, flushed with excitement.

  “Oh, Penny, I had no idea it was that bad. Does Edward know you’re addicted to gambling?”

  Penny shook her head and drank some tea.

  “How are you affording it?”

  “We only enter the free ones, so there’s no cost involved, just prizes.”

  “Do you win much?”

  “Oh yes, between us we win at least one item a week. Once it was five!”