Christmas at Butterfly Cove

by Sarah Bennett

  When Cathy had called, asking if he’d come down for an early birthday lunch for Aaron, he’d been happy to accept. Happier still when his dad had taken him to one side and told him it had been her suggestion. He squeezed her shoulders in a quick hug, noting the tension in her stiff frame. He kissed her cheek again. ‘I thought I’d take Aaron down the road for a pint. It’ll get us out from under your feet for a bit.’

  He didn’t miss the flicker of relief in eyes. ‘That’ll be nice. I don’t suppose you’ll get much time together now he’s settling down with Kiki.’ There was a hint of a question in her tone, and he wondered whether she knew he hadn’t been back to Butterfly Cove since Mia and Daniel’s wedding. The work to convert the garages into the teashop had been straightforward enough that no one had questioned his absence. Daniel had called him a couple of times to clarify a point with the designs he’d drawn up, and Aaron had brought an album full of photos from the grand opening last weekend.

  ‘Things are really picking up at work, and now the last of the conversion works are finished, there’s no need for me to visit Butterfly Cove so often.’ He forced a laugh. ‘Besides, although it’s lovely down there in the summer, I’m not sure I fancy staying somewhere so exposed to the elements now the weather’s on the change.’

  Cathy reached for a tea towel and dried her hands before turning to face him. ‘It sounds lovely, from what Aaron has told us. I hope to see it one day.’

  ‘Give it time, okay?’ He knew with things still so delicate between them, Aaron was unlikely to bring the old and new parts of his family together.

  His mum tilted her head to one side and studied him carefully. ‘Is that what you’re doing, too? Giving things time?’

  Damn it. Aaron must have told them about Nee. He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Don’t. Okay?’ His tone brooked no argument.

  She opened her mouth, caught the glare he threw at her, and closed it again with a nod. She glanced at her watch, breaking the tension between them. ‘I’m aiming for half-two for lunch. No crème de menthe.’

  Luke shook his head and laughed. ‘You’re never going to let that go, are you?’ His parents had gone away for the weekend, leaving a twelve-year-old Luke in Aaron’s care. With nearly five years between them, his brother had seemed impossibly grown-up. When Aaron snuck a couple of friends round for drinks, Luke hadn’t wanted to miss out. He’d raided the drinks cabinet, a bottle of the mint liqueur the first thing his hand closed around.

  Aaron had nursed him through his first, and, to this day, worst hangover, and though shaky, he’d been able to face his parents when they returned on the Sunday evening. Aaron’s hours on hands and knees, scrubbing at the bright-green stain on the peach bathroom carpet had proven less successful. Despite Luke’s protestations, his big brother had taken the blame. And Cathy had been all too happy to let him. She’d refused to leave them alone in the house for years afterwards, making it clear she couldn’t trust Aaron to be responsible. The fact she could make a joke about it now was little short of a miracle.

  Cathy placed her hand on his chest, smoothing a non-existent crease from the front of his navy T-shirt. ‘Your dad and I are here, if you need us.’

  He covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze. ‘I know, Mum. I’m fine, though. It’s water under the bridge.’ Releasing her fingers, he walked away before she could read the lie on his face. His thick, grey hoodie hung over the bottom of the banister, and he shrugged it on as he called up the stairs. ‘Pub?’

  ‘Pub!’ Aaron’s enthusiastic response was followed by the thunder of footsteps on the landing above. His brother jogged down the stairs, a wide grin on his face. ‘You’re not as thick as you look, are you, Spud?’

  ‘Wanker.’ Luke aimed a punch at his brother’s arm. Aaron clutched his arm, staggering down the hall with an exaggerated cry of pain.

  Their father appeared from the living room with a folded copy of The Sunday Times in his hand. He gave them both a playful swipe with the paper. ‘Silly sods, the pair of you. Don’t be late back, all right?’

  Aaron pulled his jacket down from where he’d hung it neatly on a peg. The contrast between the care he took to do everything right and Luke’s own casual disregard struck him anew. Things might be thawing, but it would be a long time before Aaron would feel completely comfortable in what should be the safest of spaces. Luke shrugged off the tinge of melancholy. ‘You coming with us, Dad?’

  Brian shook his head. ‘I’ve got a date with a vegetable peeler, and then I’m going to check out the apple trees, see if I can talk your mum into making a crumble for pudding.’ There was a small cluster of fruit trees at the end of the garden, cookers, not eaters.

  Luke’s mouth watered at the thought of hot crumble and custard. It was another of Aaron’s favourites and he knew then his dad’s casual comment was to try and play down how much work Cathy was putting into the planned lunch. ‘Sounds great. I’ll see if they’ve got a couple of bottles of that Cabernet Mum likes. It’ll go nicely with the beef.’

  ‘Good lad.’ Brian hooked his arm around Luke and drew him close for a quick hug. He did the same to Aaron, adding a kiss to his cheek. Their dad had always been demonstrative, no stiff-upper-lip backslapping or awkward handshakes, and both his sons had carried that naturalness and warmth into adulthood.

  Luke had seen it in the same gentle interactions between his brother and Matty, his girlfriend’s young son. For someone who’d been adamant about not wanting children of his own, Aaron had taken to Kiki’s little ones with alacrity. It pleased Luke to see. His brother had a heart as big as a lion’s and lived to care for others. At least one of them seemed capable of forging a successful relationship with a Thorpe sister.

  Two of them, if he included Daniel. Recently, and sickeningly happily, married to the eldest of the three sisters, his brother’s best friend was close enough to be considered blood. Which left Luke and Nee, and their marriage that wasn’t. Bollocks.

  Feeling the heavy weight of his brother’s arm slung around his neck, Luke allowed Aaron to steer him off the street and onto the flagstone patio in front of the King’s Arms. ‘Penny for them,’ Aaron said, although he probably had a pretty good idea where his brother’s thoughts had strayed to.

  Luke couldn’t get Nee out of his bloody head. Every time he closed his eyes, her pale, strained face swam into view. Too pale, too thin, like she hadn’t been taking proper care of herself. He hated how much her miserable appearance bothered him, and his voice came out harsher than he intended. ‘They’re not worth a bloody penny.’ He took a breath and softened his tone. ‘Come on, I’m parched.’

  They kept the chit-chat light as they waited for Tony, the convivial landlord, to pour their pints. They’d known the red-cheeked man since they’d had to be lifted onto the bar-stools to see, excited at the idea of a glass of pop and a packet of crisps. He added the cost of two bottles of red to their tab, and promised to drop them at their table shortly. Given a choice, Luke would rather have stayed at the bar. Less chance of Aaron raising any awkward topics in front of others. Aaron ignored his suggestion, leaving him little choice other than to follow his brother to a small, round table perched in the corner beneath a collection of horse-brasses ubiquitous to every country pub he’d ever set foot in.

  Hoping to head Aaron off at the pass, Luke searched for a neutral topic of conversation. ‘How’re the kids?’

  A slow, easy smile spread over his brother’s face, his mega-watt grin as Kiki called it. ‘They’re brilliant. Just amazing. They surprise me every day. Matty’s settling in at school far better than we might have hoped, given all the upheaval he’s been through.’

  There was no mistaking the pride in his voice at the boy’s progress and Luke grinned at him. ‘Still stargazing?’

  Aaron rolled his eyes. ‘I think we’ve got the next Professor Brian Cox on our hands. Now the nights are drawing in, he’s out there with his telescope every evening the skies are clear enough. We’ve been through every
programme he can find on catch-up. I’m not sure he grasps the depth of some of the science, but you should see his eyes when the images of galaxies come up.’

  Luke sipped his beer. ‘Can you imagine Dad out there with him? They’d be partners-in-crime, for sure.’ A shadow crossed Aaron’s face and he could have kicked himself. He hadn’t meant anything by it. Brian Spenser loved astronomy and had passed his interest down to both his sons. ‘Sorry. I didn’t think. I understand why you’re taking things slowly in that direction.’

  Aaron shifted on the bench beneath the window, throwing his arm along the back of the seat as he settled back to study him. ‘What do you think about it all?’

  ‘Mum? I don’t know what you said to her, but it’s definitely had an impact. You know she’s making roast beef and Yorkshire puddings for lunch? And apple crumble.’

  A faint blush edged his brother’s cheekbones. ‘She didn’t need to go to so much trouble.’

  Luke made a rude noise. ‘‘Course she bloody did. Don’t tell me you’re letting her off the hook already! You want to milk this, mate, for as long as you can.’

  Aaron shook his head, mouth twisting in amusement. ‘You’re incorrigible.’

  He preened. ‘It’s a skill, don’t be jealous.’ They burst out laughing.

  His brother took a deep draft of his beer, amusement fading. ‘We’re thinking about having them down for a weekend next month. Mia and Kiki have already set their hearts on some huge family Christmas, so we’re thinking it would be a good idea to introduce them to the children beforehand.’

  ‘Christmas? It’s months away. Who the hell is thinking about Christmas?’ Luke sputtered.

  ‘It’s exactly ten weeks today,’ Aaron said in a way that told Luke he’d been subjected to more than one conversation on that point. ‘It’s the number-two topic of conversation between the ladies of Butterfly Cove.’ The way he eyed Luke, it was obvious what subject was at the top of the gossip hit parade.

  Luke stared into the depths of his beer, knowing the amber liquid held no answers, but hoping Aaron would get the message and not press the point. Aaron cleared his throat, and Luke braced himself for the worst. What he heard instead shocked a laugh out of him. ‘There’s a surprise birthday party for me next weekend.’

  ‘I thought the clue was in the word ‘surprise’?’

  Aaron chuckled. ‘Charlie told me about it. Made me promise to keep it a secret. I had to cross my heart and everything.’ Luke could picture him doing exactly that. The little girl hung the moon and stars for his brother. He had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with Aaron being able to indulge his love for Disney films.

  ‘Well, I’m sure it’ll be a hoot. Show me your shocked face – you can’t spoil the surprise.’

  Aaron gurned at him, contorting his face into evermore ludicrous expressions until Luke held a hand up in surrender. ‘Stop, stop, for God’s sake, before I do myself an injury.’ He clutched a hand to his aching ribs, marvelling at his brother’s ability to lift his mood.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re laughing at,’ Aaron sniffed. ‘You’ll have to pretend you don’t know anything about it when Kiki calls to invite you.’

  And, he was even better at blindsiding him. Knowing the way those bloody women schemed, they’d probably cooked up the idea of the party just to try and force him to go down there. ‘I’m not coming to Butterfly Cove.’

  ‘Luke…’

  The ever-present simmer of anger in his gut boiled over. ‘Leave it!’ Damn. None of this was Aaron’s fault, not Kiki’s or Mia’s either. There was only one person responsible for turning his life upside down.

  Again.

  He shoved a hand through his hair. ‘Sorry.’

  His brother hunched closer across the table. ‘You have to speak to her sometime, bro. I don’t know what happened to her in New York, but she’s a mess.’

  His temper spiked again. ‘And how is that my problem?’

  Aaron gripped his forearm. ‘She’s your wife, Luke. For better, for worse and all that.’

  He’d heard enough. He loved Aaron, but if he didn’t shut the hell up, Luke would say something unforgivable. He stood up, lifted his glass and drained the last third of his pint. ‘We’d better get back.’ He left the table without another word.

  He was a couple of hundred yards up the road before Aaron caught up with him. Falling into step, he kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead of them. ‘We heard your argument, Kiki and me. After the wedding.’

  Luke stopped dead. ‘What?’

  Aaron faced him, one shoulder lifted in an apologetic shrug. ‘Outside the barn. We didn’t mean to. We were in the shadows at the side of the building.’

  What the hell had they been doing lurking in the dark like that? It had been the night Aaron finally opened his heart to Kiki and… oh. The embarrassed flush on his brother’s face spoke volumes. He raised an eyebrow at him and the redness darkened.

  ‘Yeah, anyway. We weren’t snooping, but we heard what Nee said, about leaving you being a mistake. She sounded pretty sincere to me. Can’t you at least give her a chance to explain?’

  A car approached, and they stepped onto the grass verge to let it pass. As soon as the road was clear again, Luke started walking. He didn’t want to think about the wedding. Didn’t want to think about how delicate and slight Nee had looked, the aching sorrow in her voice when she’d tried to talk to him. He heard Aaron’s footsteps behind him. Without looking around, he held up a hand in warning. ‘No more. The subject is closed.’

  He couldn’t give her a chance to explain, because then he’d have to admit to the true source of his anger – himself. For all his protestations, he didn’t care why she’d left. He just wanted her back. And what kind of an idiot did that make him?

  Chapter Three

  It had taken all her powers of persuasion, but Nee had eventually convinced Mia and Kiki she was the best person to travel home to help their dad. She’d made sure not to give any hint leaving Butterfly Cove was anything more than a temporary arrangement. A bit of space away from everyone would hopefully give her time to think, and to come up with a plan for what she would do now her art was lost to her.

  She had other reasons too. So many things had moved on while she was away, and running to catch up was exhausting. Her sisters had reached a compromise with their father over the past and were moving forwards. Nee had watched him at the wedding, especially with the little ones, and hadn’t been able to stifle a bite of jealousy when he’d balanced a laughing Charlie on his feet and danced around the marquee with her. She rolled her shoulders to shrug off the unwelcome reminder. Nee had never been a jealous person, never doubted her own worth and importance to the people in her life who mattered, until…

  The announcer called her station and she watched the people around her stand and sway their way between the seats towards the door. She remained seated. Her suitcase perched in the rack by the corridor door, hemmed in on all sides. What was it that made people so desperate to be first off? She’d never been on a train where people didn’t start queueing five minutes before arrival. Nor on a flight where someone didn’t pop their seatbelt open before the indicator light turned out. Once that first click sounded, a wave of others invariably rippled around the cabin. As if once one person had disobeyed the rules, it made it all right for them too. You could always spot the Brits in those situations by their guilty glances, as though they expected to be told off.

  The platform came into view through the window beside her and Nee watched the people crammed by the door and counted silently in her head, three, two, one… The train jerked to a halt as the driver applied the brake, sending one unprepared passenger staggering into the person in front of him. A domino ripple of bumps, pushes and glares followed. She shook her head. Every time. As soon as the crowd thinned, she slipped from her seat to join the back of the group, pausing to haul her case down from the rack as she passed it.

  A tall, dapper figure waited for her on th
e platform, and she couldn’t help the small smile on her lips. Rain or shine, George Thorpe would be dressed in his usual uniform of pressed trousers, smart shirt and a jacket or buttoned-up cardigan. Today, he’d added a black woollen coat and a dark, felt trilby hat. He moved towards her, then stopped, an uncertain expression on his face. He removed his hat, turning the brim in his hand in a nervous gesture. ‘Hello, Eirênê, how was your journey?’

  She popped up the handle on her rolling suitcase, and closed the gap between them. ‘Fine, thanks.’ They did an awkward little dance when he tried to take the case from her, and she hung on to it. ‘Leave it, I can manage.’

  George shrugged awkwardly. ‘The car’s not far.’ He settled his hat upon his head, checking the brim was straight. No jaunty angles allowed.

  The silly thought made her smile, and she made sure he saw it as she gestured in front of her. ‘Lead on, MacDuff.’ He started a little at her words, and she frowned. It was one of those things she’d always said, picked up unconsciously from somewhere long ago. A memory tickled the back of her mind, of a smiling, happier-looking George lining his three daughters up in a row. Nee could feel herself bursting with pride at being put at the front of the line. ‘Lead on, Macduff!’ George had ordered, and they’d marched down the front path. Where they’d been going was lost to her now, but the long-discarded memory reminded her things hadn’t always been doom and gloom.

  Traffic was light, and they made quick progress through the town, the dark saloon purring through the streets. Gentle strains of classical music drifted from the speakers, negating the need for either of them to make much small talk. There was no denying the air of tension between them, though. Nee swallowed a sigh. Between her father’s natural reticence and her own resentment towards him, the next few days were likely to be a struggle. One of them would have to make the first move, and somehow, she couldn’t imagine it would be him. Time to break the ice.

  ‘Matty’s settling in well at school. Still a bit shy, Kiki says, but he’s coming out of his shell nicely. There’s even talk about him joining the local cubs. They’ve got a taster session coming up. The teashop opened last weekend, did you hear?’