A Winter's Dream

by Sophie Claire

  Her throat was so tight she couldn’t have argued even if she’d known what to say to that. She sank down into her chair, defeated as the waiter clicked his fingers and someone hurried over with a slip of paper. She could feel dozens of accusing eyes boring into her. He put it in front of her, and tears blurred the number at the bottom of it.

  This was mortifying. And to top it all, she was footing the bill.

  Saturday, 6 December

  ‘Morning, Liberty!’ Evie greeted her with her usual cheeriness.

  Liberty held her hand up to shield her eyes, ‘Wow, that’s bright,’ she said. Evie was wearing a sequined red dress with a sparkly gold tree design. The light bounced off it, like little arrows. Liberty peered closer. ‘Did you sew all those baubles on yourself?’

  ‘Yep.’ Evie grinned. ‘You don’t think it’s too much, do you? Jake raised an eyebrow when he saw it.’

  Liberty said diplomatically, ‘It looks very … Christmassy.’

  ‘How are you today?’ Evie asked.

  ‘Been better.’ She put her handbag down and began to unbutton her coat.

  ‘That doesn’t sound good. What’s wrong?’

  She mustered a smile. ‘Oh, I just had a really bad date last night.’

  ‘Bad as in ugly with bad breath and body odour?’

  ‘Much worse than that.’

  Evie listened while she recounted what had happened. ‘A bunny-boiler, eh?’ she said, wide-eyed. ‘Like in Fatal Attraction? At least she wasn’t armed with a knife, like Glenn Close.’

  Liberty laughed at her attempt to find the bright side. ‘I suppose. But, Evie, it’s made me seriously rethink the whole challenge. I don’t know whether to carry on. Am I just opening myself up to humiliating situations?’

  ‘Ah,’ Evie said sheepishly, and glanced down. She picked up a carrier bag.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I just had an idea for a challenge, that’s all. Something to get into the Christmas spirit and make our customers smile.’ She opened the bag and Liberty saw the tip of a green felt hat and a very long pointed ear. ‘But if you’d rather not …’

  Liberty smiled. ‘Show me. Nothing in that bag can be as upsetting as what happened to me last night.’

  They had a really busy day at the Button Hole, and by the time Liberty got home that evening it was after seven. Charlie bounded up to greet her, and when they’d finished saying hello she hung up her coat and went into the kitchen to investigate the delicious smell of cooking.

  Alex was nowhere to be seen. On the hob a couple of pans were on a gentle heat. She lifted the lid of one to peep inside and the fragrant scent of exotic spices rose to meet her. Her mouth watered. She was itching to know what this meal was all about. In the other pan noodles were cooking, and the table was set with her best napkins and goblet wine glasses. Her birthday bouquet had been moved and left by the back door, and she guessed this was because the flowers were half dead. The gerberas had lost their vibrant edge, and the roses were nodding pitifully. They were almost two weeks old now – perhaps they’d simply reached the end of their life. But Liberty decided to give them the benefit of the doubt and began to sort them, removing the dead flowers and snipping the ends off those that remained.

  These flowers had triggered the idea of her challenge, she thought, as she refilled the vase with fresh water, but last night had been so awful she still wasn’t sure if she should carry on with it – or, at least, not the dating aspect. As she plucked off a shrivelled leaf, Jessie’s furious face flashed up in her mind, and Sean’s triumphant expression too.

  But she also had to remember why she’d started the challenge. If she stopped now, she’d be the one who lost out.

  She put the vase back on the kitchen table with fresh resolve. This challenge was about being brave, and a truly brave person wouldn’t give up at the first hurdle. She had to carry on.

  Footsteps in the hall approached and Alex snorted when he saw her. ‘Why are you dressed like that?’

  Her hand lifted to touch her hat. She’d completely forgotten she was wearing it. ‘I’m a Christmas elf. It’s my challenge for today. Which reminds me.’ She pulled out her orange notebook and scribbled in it spent the day dressed as an elf. ‘Do I have time to get changed before dinner?’

  ‘If you’re quick. It’ll be ready at seven thirty.’

  ‘I’ll only be five minutes.’ She went to go, then paused. She’d been thinking about this all day and still couldn’t work out why he’d been so keen to have dinner with her. ‘It smells delicious.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  She glanced at the table, which he’d laid with such care. ‘So … are you going to tell me what this is all about?’

  ‘I will,’ he said. ‘Over dinner.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’

  He looked at the clock, which was edging towards half past. ‘Are you getting changed, then?’ he asked, with a mischievous grin. His gaze swept over her slim-fitting green leggings, and was that a gleam in his eye? ‘Because I don’t mind if you want to stay dressed as an elf.’

  Chapter Nine

  ‘So you want help with your search?’ Liberty asked, as she dug her fork into the Thai noodles with chicken and a rainbow of vegetables. The meal Alex had cooked was delicious, fragrant, and not too spicy. But she couldn’t relax.

  She felt jittery around him. On edge. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe because they’d got off to a bad start and she was still wary of him. Or maybe because of his dark eyes and that heart-stopping smile. She darted a glance at his messy hair. Although he was far too unkempt ever to be her type.

  Alex nodded. ‘I’m not getting anywhere with official records. I’ve realised I need to talk to people who know the area, see if anyone remembers anything that could help. Everyone said you know Willowbrook well, and my half-sister must be about your age. Perhaps you know her.’

  ‘Perhaps, but how would I work out who she is? You don’t even have a name, and those letters were written thirty years ago. A lot can change in that time: the mother could have moved away, or the baby grown up and left.’

  ‘I know.’ He dipped his head in defeat.

  He looked so sad she wanted to reach out and comfort him. ‘Can I see the letters?’

  She noted, as he gave them to her, that the envelopes were old and thin, yellowed with age. She opened them one by one, carefully smoothing out the satin-soft paper. Once she’d scanned them, she put them down. ‘Do you know what the M stands for?’

  He shook his head.

  She ran through the possibilities; ‘Maud, Maura, Melanie, Marianne … But I can’t think of anyone I know whose name begins with M.’

  ‘I’ll never find her,’ he said despondently.

  She studied him more closely. He seemed so serious and intense, it was difficult to imagine his father had been the womanising type. She asked cautiously, ‘Did your dad do this a lot – sleeping with other women?’

  His features hardened. ‘Yes. Sadly. He was the archetypal Casanova.’ He pointed to the letters. ‘This is typical of him. He behaved selfishly – all his life. When I think of what this poor woman must have been through, how scared she must have been when she wrote those letters …’

  He sounded so angry, so passionate, and his desire to put right his father’s wrongs roused a wave of admiration in her.

  ‘We have an online group for residents of Willowbrook,’ she said, picking up her phone. ‘Would you like me to put a picture of the letters on there and ask if anyone knows anything?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t want this to get out to the press. It’s too personal.’

  ‘You’re worried people will judge you for what your father did?’

  ‘I’m worried people will go to the papers with this piece of gossip about the Ricards. It would be terrible for my mother. She’s already been through enough.’

  ‘You don’t need to worry. No one around here will talk to the press about you.’

  He didn’t look convinced. ‘How c
an you be so sure?’

  ‘Because that’s not what people are like. We look after each other.’

  ‘I’m an outsider, though.’

  ‘As long as you’re staying here, you’re one of us.’ Her phone was still in her hand, poised and waiting for his assent.

  He hesitated, then nodded. She took a picture of one of the letters and posted it online with a brief explanation, then put her phone down. ‘So what are you going to do next?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Keep asking around, talking to people, I suppose. Hope someone remembers something. I’ve been to the post office, the school, the church. No one knows anything.’ His long lashes lowered as he picked up his dessert spoon and absently twisted it this way and that. He looked dejected, and her heart tugged.

  ‘When did your father die?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Last winter.’

  He’d said he was never close to his father, and now she could see why, but she wondered if perhaps he hadn’t worked through his grief yet. Maybe that was the reason he’d scowled so much when he’d first arrived.

  He went on, ‘He was never home. Always travelling. My mother raised us like a single parent. She did everything for us.’

  She could tell from the warmth in his voice that he cared deeply about her. Liberty smiled. ‘My mum was single, too.’

  ‘You were close?’

  ‘Very. I had the perfect childhood.’ As a child, Liberty had always been envious of families larger than her own, but now she knew better. She and her mum had enjoyed an exceptionally harmonious relationship. Some of her schoolfriends had been constantly at war with their parents. She’d been lucky.

  ‘Where did you grow up?’

  ‘Here. In this house.’

  ‘You lived here all your life?’

  ‘Yes. So did Mum. This cottage has been in our family for three generations.’ Her proud smile faded, however, as she remembered his dismissive words: I’m not used to living in the middle of nowhere.

  ‘And your father?’ he asked carefully.

  ‘He died when I was very small. But he was never really in the picture. Mum and he split up when I was a baby. She always said we were fine just the two of us – and we were. We didn’t need anyone else. I loved growing up here. I can’t imagine ever living anywhere else.’ She paused. ‘I know that must sound dull to you when you travel all over the world.’

  ‘It is a nice place,’ he conceded. ‘The unspoilt countryside, the traditional stone cottages. I’m the unusual one for having itchy feet.’

  She was surprised by this admission. Perhaps he wasn’t so snooty about the place, after all. It made her warm to him a little. ‘Yes. We’re very different, you and I.’

  ‘But you enjoyed going out on the motorbike, didn’t you?’

  When he’d picked her up after work yesterday she’d been a little nervous again and had made him swear he wouldn’t go too fast, but as soon as they’d set off, the exhilaration had kicked in and she’d arrived home buzzing. ‘Yes, I did. And it was really kind of you to get the helmet and gear for me. Thanks.’

  He waved this away. ‘Perhaps you’ve overcome your fear.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ She smiled. ‘I still wouldn’t like to go fast, though.’

  ‘Tell me more about your challenge. What else scares you?’

  Where did she begin? Last night’s humiliating scene was still fresh in her mind. ‘Meeting new people, going to new places – anything dangerous, fast, or the unknown. I really like routine.’

  Oh, well done, Liberty. Now he’d take her for a real stick-in-the-mud, just like her ex had said she was.

  ‘This challenge is a good idea.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Definitely. It’s not good to live a timid life. How can you realise your full potential if you’re too scared to try new things? Life is more fulfilling when you push yourself to go faster or take a more difficult line. More rewarding.’

  ‘It wasn’t last night.’ He was puzzled so she explained. ‘I joined one of those dating apps and I had a really bad date.’

  ‘A dating app?’ he said, in horror. ‘Why?’

  Wasn’t it obvious? ‘Because I want to meet someone. A man.’ Why did her cheeks suddenly feel toasty hot? She ducked her gaze away and picked a couple of threads off her sleeve.

  ‘You don’t need to do this.’

  She was surprised at how earnest he sounded. ‘I do.’

  ‘Of course you don’t. A woman like you – you’re young and beautiful and – and you don’t need a dating app.’

  Was that a compliment he’d just paid her? ‘I really do. Until this month I hadn’t dated for over a year. That’s another reason why I’m doing the challenge.’

  She prepared herself for him to be appalled or pitying, yet he simply shrugged. ‘The right man will come eventually. Why can’t you just wait until Fate makes your paths cross?’

  ‘I could be an old woman before that happens. I never meet men in my job.’ She thought of Ethan and blushed. ‘Well, not many men anyway. And I know everyone in Willowbrook. I’ve either dated them already or have no interest in them in that way. How else am I going to meet anyone?’

  ‘Show me this app.’

  She picked up her phone. While she waited for it to load, he asked, ‘What kind of man are you looking for?’

  ‘Someone who’s ready to commit. Someone who’s happy to live around here.’

  He shot her a sharp look. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I like it here. This is my home.’

  ‘What if you meet someone who likes living in the city? What if he’s perfect in every other way except his address?’

  ‘He wouldn’t be perfect for me if he didn’t want to live here.’

  ‘If you moved somewhere bigger you’d meet new people.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t imagine living anywhere else.’ She laughed.

  ‘Not even in the town ten miles away?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it’s beautiful here. There’s nowhere like it. It’s … home.’

  He whistled. ‘You’re just like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. But you know he can’t possibly exist, don’t you, this perfect man?’

  ‘Perhaps I’m being too fussy. Perhaps that’s why I’ve had no luck finding the right one.’

  ‘Show me the contenders.’

  She moved to sit next to him and together they scrolled through a series of faces and names. Smiling eyes and moody frowns flew past, one after another. Close up like this she caught a subtle hint of Alex’s aftershave, and she could feel his warmth too – or was that her imagination?

  He stopped and his finger hovered over the screen. ‘What’s wrong with him?’

  ‘He looks … intimidating. Overconfident.’

  ‘This one?’

  She screwed up her nose. ‘He’s a fitness freak. We’d have nothing in common.’

  ‘Him?’

  ‘Too old.’

  ‘Him?’

  ‘Too young.’

  ‘He’s twenty-eight. That’s not much younger than you.’

  ‘But he wants to go travelling.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘It’s unlikely that he’s ready to settle down and have a family.’

  He sat back. ‘You want a family?’

  ‘Yes. Why are you so shocked?’

  He handed her phone back. ‘You’re young, you have a job you enjoy and you’re successful. Don’t you want to pursue that further before you settle down?’

  ‘I’m happy with my job as it is. What is there to pursue? And I really want to be a mum. I’m thirty, I don’t want to waste any more time.’ She couldn’t believe she was revealing so much to the man who, until yesterday, had been the Motorbike Menace. But he was easy to talk to, he seemed interested. And he’d said she was beautiful. She couldn’t get that out of her mind.

  ‘So you’re hoping to find a man who wants to live here, who’s ready to settl
e down and have children?’

  ‘It’s a tall order, I know, but I’m certain he exists somewhere out there.’

  ‘Maybe. But I’m not sure internet dating is the best way to reach him.’

  ‘After last night, I agree. It’s really put me off dating.’ She paused. ‘Although …’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, there’s this guy I met at work. He came into the shop because his mum can’t get out, but she’s a keen quilter and he’s …’ she hesitated ‘… really nice.’

  She was suddenly reminded of how she and Carys used to confide in each other when they liked someone. The only difference was that Carys would have squealed, not looked serious as Alex did now. ‘You like him?’

  ‘I really like him. He’s single, dependable and devoted to his mum. It’s quite sweet.’

  ‘You make him sound like a pet dog.’

  She laughed. ‘He’s good-looking, too. Blond, tall and tidy.’

  He lifted one eyebrow. ‘Tidy?’

  ‘You know, hair neatly combed, clothes never creased. He’s always impeccably turned out.’ She glanced at Alex’s messy hair.

  ‘A well-groomed pet dog, then. Does he feel the same way about you?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Heat rushed to her cheeks. She’d thought about inviting Ethan for a drink, but each time she’d gone to call or type a message, she couldn’t find the right words. And what if he said no? What if he was so appalled by the idea that he never came to the Button Hole again?

  Anyway, she might see him on Thursday when she’d arranged to visit Brenda again. Wasn’t it better to let things develop in their own time?

  ‘Have you asked him out?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because he might say no. Anyway, I’m not sure I want to after last night.’

  ‘This isn’t a blind date like last night. You know him.’

  ‘True. And his mum too.’

  ‘So he’s not a dumbass with a vengeful ex.’

  She smiled. ‘If he is, Brenda hasn’t mentioned it.’

  Alex studied her more closely. ‘Are you really going to let one bad date stop you dating ever again?’

  ‘No, but …’

  ‘What if he meets someone else?’