The Winter We Met

by Samantha Tonge

  ‘What a terrific story,’ said Pan. She adjusted her purple beret having dressed up for the occasion with a slash of red lipstick and glossy handbag. Even her wellies were leopard print. Gran had bought them for her last Christmas as Pan liked to walk along the canal.

  The residents got up and we headed onto the woodland path, Buddy back on his lead. I breathed in the earthy smells of damp soil and rotting leaves. Bare beech trees, oaks and silver birch still looked beautiful against the blue sky despite their lack of leaves. Evergreen pines added fragrance and colour to the landscape and more holly bushes added a festive feel. Moss covered nearby rocks that lay next to a family of sepia-coloured fungi. A squirrel darted up a tree trunk. Alf gave an enormous sneeze and a roost of starlings flapped their wings. Buddy barked. Nik and I looked at each other. Our appreciation of the forest didn’t need articulating.

  ‘I love fairy lights,’ said Pan. ‘I know it’s a health and safety matter but I’ve always wished we could have them in our rooms at Willow Court.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll have a whole bunch up for the party,’ said Lynn as she circumnavigated a puddle.

  ‘I remember visiting Paris one Christmas with my husband, before we got married,’ said Pan. ‘We’d only been seeing each other for six months and were still in that first flush of love…’

  My eyes were drawn to Nik as he helped Glenda over a tree root.

  ‘We found ourselves in a super little cocktail bar, on the… the… this big fancy street in the centre of Paris…’ She frowned.

  ‘The Champs-Élysées,’ said Nik.

  ‘Yes! And after watching a play in a theatre in Montparnasse. It had gone midnight. We were the last customers. The staff had turned off all the lighting near us apart from twinkling fairy lights across the window. We sat there telling each other those things, those secrets, you only tell someone when you begin to realise that maybe, just maybe you might have a future together. We hadn’t realised closing time had passed and apologetically got up to leave. However the manager came over, smiled at us both and put down two coffees and a tray of biscuits for us, whilst he cleaned. I’ve never forgotten that night.’ She stopped walking. ‘I hope I never do.’

  I went over to her side and we linked arms. ‘Look,’ I said and pointed at a branch. ‘Doesn’t that bird look pretty, puffing out his chest? It reminds me of pop-up book we’ve got in the shop, all about a robin and a worm.’

  ‘His red bib is marvellous,’ she said and pointed to a nearby bush. ‘Like those little berries.’

  ‘They’re called hips,’ said Alf. ‘That plant is Wild Dog Rose. And don’t be impressed – I only know that because the missus knew more about gardening than Alan Titchmarsh. In fact, Maisie saved a neighbour’s cat once. Her friend Shirl had been laughing about how her tabby wouldn’t stop chewing the Christmas tree and she had no doubt it would have a go at the mistletoe she’d just put in a vase on the cat’s favourite window sill. She hurried home after Maisie told her mistletoe was toxic for many pets.’

  ‘Talking of heroes…’ said Glenda and she caught Nik’s eye. He shook his head very slightly. She sighed. ‘I… I watched a new show, last night, The Coffee Shop Mysteries, and one character—’

  ‘I was telling Gran about that,’ I said swiftly.

  Lynn pulled a black dustbin bag out of her pocket and I pulled out a smaller one to collect items for Under the Tree’s next window display. Nik and I did the bending down as the others pointed out objects that would make perfect decorations. Fred used his stick to point to the fallen cones he could just about make out as we approached a cluster of conifers. Pan had an eye for small fallen branches that once sprayed, would be perfect for hanging homemade decorations on. Alf spotted more holly and, well-organised as ever, Lynn delved into the rucksack for secateurs. He also noticed a white feather and managed to bend down and pick it up.

  He held it out to Glenda. ‘Could be an angel looking out for you. Who knows?’

  ‘What a lovely thought,’ said Nik.

  Glenda looked at Nik and hesitated before taking it from Alf. She put the feather in her coat pocket. Lynn put a finger to her lips and pointed to a rabbit. It stood rock still for a few seconds, then twitched its nose and ran off, giving flashes of its white bobtail. We started to make our way back. Temperatures were dropping.

  ‘I watched a YouTube video about how to make a card holder out of twigs by binding them together into a slatted pyramid shape,’ Glenda told Nik as we walked on.

  Lynn and I glanced at each other. She’d never offered much input to the Christmas party, in previous years.

  ‘Good idea,’ he said. ‘In fact… we could build a structure from twigs to hold the photos you’re collecting. What do you think?’

  Pan, Fred and Alf walked together, Fred squinting and pointing out potential tripping hazards with his stick. Lynn and I brought up the rear. I took the dustbin bag from her even though it wasn’t heavy. She couldn’t stop yawning.

  ‘This walk of yours was a brilliant idea,’ I said. ‘I’ve loved every minute of it, getting fresh air. The toy shop is becoming increasingly stuffy as it gets busier with December approaching.’

  ‘It’s done me good too. My head needed clearing.’

  ‘How are you doing?’ I asked gently.

  Her eyes glistened.

  ‘It’s easy for us relatives to forget that you’ve got to move on as well. You’ve been brilliant, Lynn; you’ve really made Willow Court special.’

  ‘I’ve enjoyed every minute of my time there.’

  ‘Even when Gran first moved in and you overhead her telling me she thought you were uppity?’

  ‘I’ve always liked Alice’s feistiness. It so hard… saying goodbye to residents. Not everyone will be here for the big goodbye at the party.’ She kicked a small stone. ‘But that’s life and I know it’s good that some residents have already got plans and are leaving next week.’

  ‘Like Bert? Gran told me his family have found a suitable care home near to another son, up north.’

  ‘Yes. It’s a solution everyone is happy with which is great. Decisions like these can cause fallouts between family members. Everyone thinks they know best. And then there’s Dora. She’s moving in with her family temporarily and they’ll see how it goes – her daughter has retired since Dora first moved in here and her mum’s physical needs are similar to your gran’s. She can bear her own weight and most days her arthritis doesn’t stop her enjoying herself.’

  ‘Like Pan, she’s only just been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, hasn’t she?’

  ‘Yes. Her daughter wants to look after her for as long as possible, now her situation has changed. A move was probably on the cards, regardless of this place closing down. So it won’t be a disaster for all residents. That’s some small comfort for me.’

  We reached the grassy clearing. Glenda let Nik help her sit down even though she was quite capable. Fred, Alf and Pan joined her. Nik stood by another table and put the rucksack on it. Lynn and I went over to him, Buddy running off his lead now. She took out two flasks and clear plastic cups. Nik handed around a foil package containing the slices of fruitcake. Glenda budged up and just as she looked up at Nik, Lynn thanked her and sat down in the space.

  Glenda’s face was a picture.

  ‘Pity we can’t all sit around one table,’ I said, heading back to the rucksack whilst Alf fed Buddy dog treats. I put my plastic bag down there. Nik raised his arm and we clinked mugs before I gratefully knocked back a warming mouthful. ‘How was Birmingham on Monday?’ I asked.

  ‘Overwhelming! Stall after stall and crowds, even though it was midweek and they have only just opened. I walked past crafts, handmade toiletries and jewellery… then pottery, handbags and knitted items. And I could have spent all day just tasting cheese, eating German sausage or apple strudel.’

  ‘Did you have a mug of mulled wine?’

  ‘Along with a hot chocolate and you’ll never guess what I found.’

  I raise
d an eyebrow.

  ‘A Spanish stall dedicated to sherry. Dry ones and sweet, with detailed explanations of the soil and landscape the grapes had grown in, and something about the different types of flora—’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘Apparently that’s a layer of yeast that can be part of the production process. Needless to say, I bought a bottle, but purely for altruistic reasons.’

  ‘I find that hard to believe!’

  ‘It’s true! I got talking to the stallholder, Pedro. He said sherry was a well-respected drink in Spain, with a history and tradition. We got talking about Christmas and then…’ Nik chuckled. ‘He pulled a face and said the British put it into sloppy trifle. He saw that as sacrilege. But that’s why I’ve bought it. That pudding sounds delicious to me and I’m going to make one for the Christmas party – so the sherry isn’t just for me.’

  ‘Sherry, mulled wine, hot chocolate – this was a business trip, right?’

  He gave a bellow of laughter. ‘Yes – on a more professional note the choice of wooden toys was just incredible. One stall sold vertical stacking puzzles that, when completed, made an object such as a rocking horse. So yes… there was food for thought as well as for my stomach.’

  ‘You could do a practice run of the trifle at my flat if you like,’ I said. ‘Gran used to make them when I was younger – minus the sherry for me.’ In any case, back then, I couldn’t bear the smell of alcohol and as I grew up I filled my living spaces with the smells from perfumes and scented candles.

  He drained his cup. ‘Well done, Lynn. This cake is amazing.’ He got up and went over to the other table, resting a hand on Glenda’s shoulder as he took another slice.

  ‘Come and join us, Jess,’ called Pan. ‘Otherwise your second slice will disappear.’

  ‘There’s always mine,’ said Alf in a morose voice. ‘Lynn says I should only have one.’

  ‘Doctor’s orders, Alf Talbot,’ she said.

  He grinned. ‘You sound just like my Maisie.’

  I got up and went over, not looking where I was going, and stood on a large stone almost tripping over.

  ‘Steady on, old girl,’ said Fred. ‘Anyone would think you’ve got my eyesight.’

  ‘Perhaps I should have given that white feather to you,’ joked Alf.

  But I hardly heard. I looked down at the stone. Of course!

  ‘You’ll need that second slice, Nik,’ I said, ‘Because I’d like to show you Pebble Rock.’

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ said Lynn. ‘You’ll get a lovely view as the sun sets.’

  ‘It might be a bit cold,’ said Glenda sharply. ‘You and Nik should come back to Willow Court and get warm.’

  It touched me again how she’d bonded with him. ‘How about we take the rucksack with us, to save Lynn’s back, and then drop it by later? We’ll say a quick hello.’

  ‘It’ll be lighter now, with the flasks empty,’ said Lynn. ‘I’ll be fine carrying it.’

  ‘You can’t be too careful with your health,’ said Glenda quickly. ‘Yes, Jess, I think that’s an excellent idea.’

  ‘It must be nearly time for lunch,’ said Pan. Fred, Alf and Glenda exchanged glances. She looked at her arm. ‘Oh… I haven’t put on my… my wrist clock.’

  Without hesitation Nik rolled up his sleeve. ‘Look at my watch instead, Pan,’ he said and crouched by her side.

  Her face broke into a smile. ‘It’s got a Mickey Mouse in the middle. His arms are the hands. It’s adorable!’

  Nik looked sheepish. ‘Okay, you’ve caught me – I visit Hong Kong Disneyland every couple of years with colleagues. Only for work purposes, you understand. I don’t enjoy the magic at all.’

  We all smiled and said our goodbyes. Nik and I wandered back into the woodland with Buddy by our sides.

  22

  ‘I’m excited to be visiting Springhaye’s equivalent of Uluru,’ Nik said as the path we’d been following started to incline.

  ‘Um, it’s more of a small hill – but has an unusual tradition and there’s a lovely view of Amblemarsh.’

  Pebble Rock was a little steep as you neared the top and Nik offered me a hand. I hesitated before slipping my hand into his, wishing we weren’t wearing gloves. He heaved me up and Buddy followed. We stood on the plateau. There was a wooden bench the other side, just before the far edge.

  ‘Wow!’ He put down the rucksack and went over to bend over piles of pebbles that lay all around. ‘There must be hundreds of stones and so many messages and hearts. Is it okay to touch them?’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  He picked one up. ‘Sharon loves John, 2016. They remind me of the padlocks lovers fasten everywhere in Paris.’

  ‘It started on New Year’s Eve 1999. Remember how the world decided we were going to fall foul of the Millennium bug? That computers’ systems would fail in important areas such as utilities and it would lead to widespread chaos – and some religious groups believed it was the end of times?’

  ‘Yup. I was thirteen, I went to a mate’s beachfront house for a barbecue party and we all held our breath at midnight but the lights stayed on and gadgets still worked… talk about a disappointment.’

  ‘A group of teens from Springhaye decided to paint a stone each that they found in the forest and leave it up here – something to be remembered by if the apocalypse arrived and they didn’t survive.’

  ‘There’s nothing like a bit of drama at that age,’ said Nik.

  Not for me – although I did remember fitful sobbing when someone told me Zac Efron had a girlfriend.

  ‘Some painted on their favourite pet. Couples dating shared a stone like the one you picked up. The Silver Swan’s landlord was one of that original group of teenagers and painted a football on his and wrote Manchester United Forever.’

  Carefully Nik searched through the stones. ‘I’ve found a pet. A black and white Labrador, going by the picture. Patch. Much loved. RIP 2009. Some of these are beautiful. Have you ever left one?’

  I gave him a sheepish look but trusted Nik with my secret that only Oliver knew about. I went over to the pile on the left. I dug underneath it at the back and eventually found a flat bright red stone. I passed it to him.

  ‘Jess loves Steve 2007. Tell me more,’ he said and handed it back. I returned it to its place, underneath the pile.

  ‘Must I?’

  He took my arm and led me to the bench. Buddy jumped up next to me.

  ‘Over the years it became a tradition for youngsters to leave stones here on New Year’s Eve. Other people would leave them all year around, when a loved one died or for other reasons but teenagers stuck to that date. All my friends came up here. We were in Year 11. Gran let me go to a house party. She didn’t know the parents weren’t going to attend and we snuck out. Everyone else had a boyfriend or at least a crush. I wasn’t really into boys at that age so felt like the odd one out…’ I cleared my throat. ‘Steve was our cat. Gran had had him for years. He was named after her favourite actor, Steve McQueen. I told my friends he was a lad who lived in my road and went to boarding school out of the area. I felt bad for lying but in a way the stone told the truth because I did love our cat.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Sorry. Waffling. I bet you wish you hadn’t asked now.’

  ‘Not at all. Maybe you and I should leave one – we could paint an aeroplane on it.’

  My stomach fluttered.

  ‘Can you remember your first love?’ I asked.

  ‘Isla. Feisty attitude. Taller than me when we first met. She loved surfing. I loved my books. I never understood why she liked me. We were so different. I was much quieter back then and us getting together surprised everyone.’

  ‘You? Quiet?’

  ‘Sure was. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t bother me now when I get teased for drinking sherry. I grew up being mocked for preferring books to football and visiting my grandpa instead of meeting in the park to smoke. It… it was hard, you know? Not fitting in – it feels like the end of the world at that age.’

/>   I knew.

  ‘But eventually I gained a tight group of mates who weren’t as sporty, like me. We’d hit the beach together at weekends to fish in rock pools. That’s when I first met Isla. She strode over one day and offered to take me surfing.’ His smile broadened. ‘My mum couldn’t believe it when I got home. She’d been trying for years to convince me of the fun of her favourite pastime.’

  ‘You knew Isla from school?’

  ‘She was in the year below – said all the boys in her year were jerks. She loved talking about books and had seen me in the library. Isla really brought me out of myself. I couldn’t believe my luck, to be honest. I’d started to believe all the comments from other boys at school that I was weird…’ He chuckled. ‘Wound my grandpa around her little finger. He was as upset as me when we her dad got a new job and she moved to Perth. Even though Isla didn’t want to change me, without realising it she did. For some reason, being with her, I felt more as if I fitted in, even though I was the same person. Perhaps I simply gained some self-esteem.’

  ‘She was popular?’

  ‘Yes, but it wasn’t that. I think first loves are so special because it’s when you realise that actually, there is someone out there who thinks you are just perfect – that just being you is enough. Have you ever felt that too?’

  I thought hard. ‘No. Not really. Not until… well, I met Oliver, I guess.’ Something inside me shifted uneasily as I thought about our recent arguing. ‘Not that we’ve ever dated,’ I added hastily.

  ‘He seems like a great guy.’ He looked pointedly at me. ‘How come you two never got together? Do you think it could happen?’

  ‘Noooo!’ I said with feeling. ‘We’re just friends by mutual agreement. It wouldn’t make sense. Why ruin a good thing? We get on so well as flatmates – ours is a practical relationship and always has been.’ Apart from that kiss that I remembered, like a guilty pleasure, whenever I had a run-in with an especially difficult customer or just a stressful week; it felt like a cosy hug. ‘I could never go out with someone who doesn’t like crisp sandwiches.’