Christmas

by Emily Harvale

  'That was because they knew I had them. And also, probably because Amias had told them not to.'

  'Oh, for heaven's sake. Sometimes you say the most ridiculous things. Learn to love your scars, Mum. And most importantly, learn to love yourself. And forgive yourself for Dad's death while you're at it. It's time to move on. And talking of moving on. I'm meeting Lucas in half an hour. I'll be back this afternoon, and we can go to see Granny Viola together, if you like.'

  Cat nodded. 'Have fun.'

  She watched Kyra go. Her daughter was right. Cat knew it. She just wasn't sure what to do about it.

  But after Natalia came for coffee, she had more important things to worry about. Luckily, Jeremy and Mary were both out for the duration of Natalia's visit.

  'I'm not convinced he's very good,' Natalia said, having inspected some of Jeremy's work.

  'Are you saying his work is not up to an acceptable standard?'

  Natalia pulled a face. 'I wouldn't use him to do any work on any of the properties our firm manages. And I definitely wouldn't use him to do any work on my own home. He's not planning on doing the rewiring himself, is he? Because you have to be qualified to do that sort of work and if what I've seen so far is anything to go by, I seriously doubt that Jeremy Stone has any qualifications whatsoever in the building trade.'

  'It's as bad as that?'

  Natalia shrugged. 'In my opinion, yes. I would say he has the skills of an average DIY enthusiast. Some of it's OK. None of it's brilliant. If you can find a way to stop him from continuing, I would suggest you do.'

  'I was afraid you were going to say that. But what am I supposed to do? Mum is happier than I've ever seen her. They're engaged. He's living here. And she thinks he's a builder. How can I stop him doing any work?'

  'You could develop a sudden allergy to dust.'

  'Seriously?'

  'It's a suggestion.'

  'Do you have a better one?'

  'Tell her the truth.'

  'I'm sorry. Have you actually met Mary Devon?'

  Natalia laughed. 'Yes. And my dad and brother speak highly of her. Oh damn. Sorry. I didn't mean to say that.'

  Cat looked at her for a moment and then she smiled. 'I suppose that's fair. Mum didn't treat either your dad or your brother particularly well.'

  'I still shouldn't have said that. I am sorry, Cat. I'd like to be your friend.'

  'I'd like that too. And don't worry. Let's forget about it.' She grinned. 'Providing you find a way to help me stop Jeremy Stone from dismantling Devon Villa around us.'

  Natalia frowned. 'You drive a hard bargain. But I'll see what I can do. I know Amias is planning to ask around to see if anyone knows anything about Jeremy.'

  'Yes. It'll be good if he finds something that I can show to Mum. I'm not sure hearsay will convince her. She's very much in love.'

  'And what about you? Are you in love?'

  'Me? No. No way.'

  'Are you telling me that there isn't anyone you're even remotely interested in?'

  'No. Well. Perhaps a little.'

  'And?' Natalia looked incredibly excited.

  'I don't know much about him. I don't know anything about him, to be honest. I bumped into him the other day in the market. But I do know his name. It's Adam. Adam Wynter.'

  Natalia's face fell. 'Adam Wynter? Are you serious? There's no one else? No one at all?'

  Cat shook her head. 'No. No one. I was seeing a man called Greg, in Bonniemount. But that was more platonic really. I do want to meet someone though. I didn't think I did, but since being back here, I've realised I do. I want that. I want a relationship. And Kyra thinks it's a really good idea. She's dating Lucas now.'

  'Is she?' Natalia suddenly seemed uninterested. It was as if the wind had been taken out of her sails. 'I'd better go. I've left Josh alone in the office and he gets himself into such a mess if I'm not there. Thanks for the coffee. If I think of anything to help with the Mary and Jeremy situation, I'll let you know. And if Amias comes up with anything, I'm sure he'll be in touch.'

  'Thanks for coming round. And thanks for your time.' Cat grinned. 'And if you hear of any single men, looking for a slightly worn, single mum, please let me know.'

  'Yeah. Of course. I'll do that. There's always Amias.'

  She looked a little hopeful, but she was obviously joking.

  'Yeah, right.' Cat forced a laugh. 'Could you imagine that? I'm not saying he's not great. Because he is. For someone. Sadly, just not for me.'

  'Right. OK. I'll see you soon.'

  Had Cat said something wrong? Why was Natalia suddenly in such a hurry to leave? Earlier, she had said that she could stay for as long as Cat wanted her to. How strange.

  And now Cat had Jeremy to add to her list of problems.

  Chapter Eight

  Cat managed to avoid Amias all week. At first he sent several texts. He even called her once or twice. She took her time to respond to the texts and she sent his calls to voicemail. By the end of the week, there were no more calls and only one text. She felt bad about it. But what could she do? Even listening to his voicemails made her yearn for him. She couldn't keep inflicting this on herself. She had to stay away. At least until she could be near him and not turn into a puddle of quivering goo.

  She hadn't found a way to resolve the Jeremy situation either. But since he and Mary had got engaged, he didn't seem quite as interested in work, so any additional damage he might do was actually less than Cat had expected.

  Kyra was spending more of her free time with Lucas. Cat was glad she was happy, but she couldn't help but feel a little concerned. And also a little lonely from time to time. She had seen Abigail for coffee at the weekend, but Abigail worked all week, so had very little time.

  Painting had once again been Cat's salvation. It had been her art, and Isla Presley, of course that had got her through after Kyle's death. What she was going through now was hardly comparable. And yet in a way, it was. Being in the same village as Amias and forcing herself not to see him, was akin to a slow and painful death, or so it seemed. But she told herself that each day would be easier than the last. One day soon, she might actually believe it. Until then, she had no choice. She would simply have to get on with life.

  The following week, Amias didn't call or text at all. Eighteen years before, the same thing had happened, so why was she surprised? And yet she was. A little.

  And the week after that, she got the worst news of all. Amias was dating someone. No one knew who she was. And apparently, no one had seen her. Apart from Natalia. She was the one who had told everyone about Amias and his new girlfriend.

  'I think this could finally be the one,' Natalia told Cat one afternoon when they met by chance in the car park of the Merry Shopper supermarket. 'But don't tell him I said that. He's trying to play it cool. You know Amias.'

  'Oh yes. I know Amias. I hope he'll be very happy. I'm sorry, Natalia, but I must dash off. I've actually got a date myself this afternoon.'

  'You have? Not with Adam Wynter?'

  'Who? Oh him. No, no. Um. It's a doctor from Granny Viola's ward. We've been chatting for ages. It's just coffee. Nothing serious. Yet.'

  Cat winked and dashed away as fast as she could. She was becoming a pretty good liar. Or at least, someone very good at making up stories and hiding the truth.

  Dear God. Was she turning into Mary Devon?

  Why had she done that? There was no reason to make up a boyfriend. As if Amias would care either way. Although it wasn't a total lie. She was seeing the doctor that afternoon, and she would be drinking coffee. But it was to discuss Granny Viola's latest tests, that was all.

  Back at Devon Villa, she banged the shopping bags on the table and slumped into a chair.

  'Amias has got a girlfriend.'

  Kyra glanced up from her phone. 'Has he? I haven't heard about that and Lucas hasn't mentioned it.'

  'Apparently, he's trying to keep it quiet.'

  'Why?'

  'Who knows? Who knows why that man d
oes anything? And who cares?'

  Kyra raised her brows before giving Cat a sympathetic smile. 'Clearly you do. Although, of course, being a Devon, you're too stubborn and pig-headed to admit it. But you said yourself that Amias is a man who wouldn't be long without a woman. I still think that woman could've been you. But hey. You told me not to go there, so I won't.'

  'Natalia thinks this could be the one.'

  'The one? What? The one Amias marries?'

  'Yep.'

  'Wow. Do you think we'll get an invite to the wedding?'

  'I really don't want to talk about it, Kyra. I don't want to hear that man's name mentioned again.'

  'Er. You were the one who brought him up.'

  'I've got a headache. I'm going to my room.'

  'You haven't unpacked the shopping.'

  'You've got two hands for a reason, Kyra. And it's not to send lovey-dovey messages to your boyfriend every hour of the night and day.'

  'OK. I'll unpack the shopping. But does that mean you don't want to read this letter? The one that's got a postmark from Vancouver.'

  Cat stopped in her tracks and turned around. 'If this is your idea of a joke, sweetheart, I'm not going to be amused.'

  'No joke.' She waved an envelope in one hand in the air.

  Cat raced back and grabbed it, studying the writing for a moment or two.

  'It's not the same. The writing's not the same as the letters upstairs.'

  'They were written a lifetime ago, Mum. Bailey Mitchell is getting on for a hundred or so.'

  'But this isn't the writing of an elderly man. Look.' She held the envelope in front of Kyra. 'This is the writing of someone younger. Oh no. You don't think he's dead do you?'

  'Bailey? How would I know? Why don't you open the letter and see?'

  Cat tore open the envelope and pulled out two sheets of paper.

  'OK. It says, “Dear Cat. Thank you for your lovely letter. It was addressed to my grandfather, Bailey Mitchell, and he has asked me to reply on his behalf. Let me introduce myself before we go any farther. My name is Ben Mitchell. I'm thirty-six, recently single, and along with my sister, Diana, I run wildlife tours here in deepest, darkest British Columbia. It's not really deep or dark here – except in the woods. And Diana has just told me that this sounds more like my dating profile than an introduction so I apologise for that. Grandfather was very surprised to receive your letter, and he was extremely distressed by its contents. We are all hoping that by the time this letter reaches you, you will have received some good news regarding your grandmother. Grandfather was also surprised that you said his letters were unopened. But then he said afterwards, that perhaps he wasn't. I don't suppose that makes much sense to you. It didn't make any to us. But since then, he has told us a lot more about his life in Merriment Bay, and at RAF Merriment. I'm not sure if you are aware of this, but Grandfather is ninety-eight. I honestly think if he could, he would get on a plane right now and come over there. Sadly, at his age, that isn't really an option. But he would like to keep in touch, and to get updates on any changes in your grandmother's condition. We have a presence on social media, via our wildlife tours company and I'm giving you the details for that, in case you want to get in touch that way. It's so much quicker than the postal service, especially as we live on an island. Grandfather is very keen to hear from you again and he says he will try to answer any questions you may have. With thanks and best wishes, Bailey, Ben and Diana Mitchell.” What a lovely letter.'

  'Ben sounds interesting. Recently single and thirty-six. Perhaps we should consider visiting Bailey Mitchell and his family in person. I've always fancied going to Canada and a wildlife tour sounds like fun. Especially if there are bears.'

  'Let's not get ahead of ourselves. But he has given us the social media handles, or whatever it is they're called, so perhaps we could at least look them up. You're good at that.'

  Kyra stretched out her hand and Cat gave her the letter. She typed the details into her phone and placed the phone on the table so that they could both see the results.

  'Mitchell Mountain Tours,' Kyra said. 'Do you think that means there's actually a Mitchell mountain? Or does it mean that their tours are in the mountains?'

  'Ah, the importance of grammar,' Cat joked. 'It could be either. Hold on. Scroll down again. Stop. Is that them?'

  Kyra looked closer. 'It says, “A warm welcome from the Mitchells”, so yes. I think we can safely assume it is. Wow, Mum. Ben is my sort of mountain man. Look at him.'

  'I am. He's my sort of mountain man too. Blond hair, blue eyes, gleaming white teeth that only people on the other side of the Atlantic seem to possess. Broad shoulders, strong hands, from what I can see of them, and a rather lovely smile. I think you're right, sweetheart. We do need to take a wildlife tour. So, are we going to message them or something? Tell them we've got the letter and ask a few questions?'

  'Should we wait for Gran?'

  Cat looked at Kyra and grinned. 'Nah. We can tell her about it later.'

  Chapter Nine

  Cat decided that social media might not be that bad after all. In fact, it might actually be rather good.

  Or perhaps it was Ben Mitchell who was the deciding factor. Contact with him, his sister Diana and his grandfather, Bailey was now part of Cat's day; like taking a shower, or having that first, aromatic cup of coffee after she woke up. She looked forward to checking the notifications, so much so that Kyra had helped her set up her own social media presence. Now she and Ben were sending each other messages at all hours of the day and night, despite the eight-hour time difference. Cat was awake when she would normally be asleep, and asleep when she should be awake. Half the time, she wasn't quite sure what day it was. But she was sure of one thing: Ben Mitchell had brought a breath of fresh mountain air into her life.

  OK. She occasionally compared him to Amias, and yes, more than once when she was lying awake in bed she wondered whether Amias was lying awake in bed with his girlfriend, and what, exactly, they were doing. But that only made her more determined to develop her friendship with Ben. There was just one tiny problem. Ben lived almost five thousand miles away.

  That was the odd thing about social media. It transcended borders, turned distances into a mere click of a button, or tap on the screen, and made anything seem possible.

  'It's done nothing here but rain for weeks and weeks,' she typed on her phone.

  'It's snowing here,' Ben replied.

  'I love the snow.'

  'I love the rain.'

  'Perhaps we should switch places.'

  'Or perhaps we should share the experiences. I'll visit you. You visit me.'

  Cat got excited. 'If only we could.'

  'Perhaps we can work something out. How's Viola? Any news?'

  'No change. It's so disheartening.'

  'Grandfather asks about her constantly. Thank you for the photo. You were right, it was depressing. But he says he's glad he got to see her face again after all these years. Even if her eyes were closed and she's in a coma. He pretended he had popped into her bedroom and that she was simply fast asleep.'

  'I wish he could pop into her room. The doctors say that some people know what's going on around them. That's why it's so important to be careful what you say or do. Perhaps knowing Bailey was in her room might pull her out of the mist and fog she's in and bring her back to us.'

  'Wouldn't that be something?'

  'Well, it's getting closer to Christmas. And that is the season of miracles.'

  'I believe in miracles.'

  'We made the Christmas cake and the Christmas puddings the other day. It's a tradition in England that if you stir them you can make a wish. I stirred them all and made a wish with each. That's three wishes. I'm hoping at least one of them comes true.'

  'We do that here. And my great-grandmother was British. I don't suppose I'm allowed to ask what you wished for.'

  'I'm surprised you need to ask.'

  Cat typed that sentence, deleted it, retyped and deleted
it yet again, and finally decided, what the hell. She had retyped it again and this time she had pressed send. He was almost five thousand miles away. He couldn't see her blush.

  But he had seen her photograph. He asked for one a few days after they had connected on social media. She had explained about her accident eighteen years ago, but she hadn't given many details. There was time enough for that if they ever met. Not that they were likely to. And in a way, that made her feel less vulnerable in letting him see her photo. But even so, she covered her scar with her hair a little and made sure she wore make-up in order to look her best.

  He had told her she was really pretty. Beautiful, he'd said.

  Her heart had soared and she had waved her arms in the air just like Kyra did when she was excited about something.

  And yet her heart played tricks on her, and so did her brain. 'How would you feel if Amias told you you were beautiful?' it asked.

  'I've sent you a Christmas card,' Ben said, one day during their online conversations.

  'I've sent you one too.'

  She had. And she had chosen it very carefully. It had the words. 'To a special friend at Christmas' blazoned across an image of a couple snuggled on a loveseat in front of a roaring fire whilst snow fell outside of a leaded light window.

  Would Ben get the not so subtle message?

  What would his card be like?

  'And I've sent you a card for Viola from Grandfather. Will you take it to the hospital?'

  'Of course. I'll put it by her bed.'

  'And there's a letter inside the card for you. He says it should answer most of your questions. I wrote it for him so I know what it says, but I'll let you read it before we discuss it.'

  'Discuss it? Does it need to be discussed?'

  'I was surprised by what he told me.'

  'Oh come on. You can't leave things like that. I'll have to wait at least five days before it arrives.'

  'I could call you. We could discuss it over the phone. I just don't want to type it out.'