A Winter's Dream

by Sophie Claire

  ‘So – ah—’ she began.

  ‘You know, Mum—’ he started simultaneously.

  They stopped and smiled.

  ‘Go ahead,’ said Ethan.

  ‘No, you,’ she insisted.

  ‘I was just going to say that Mum’s really enjoying your visits. She loves talking sewing. She said you’re very knowledgeable.’

  ‘So’s she,’ said Liberty. ‘She’s really talented. I hope she’ll win something at the quilt show in France.’

  He nodded. ‘So do I. Mum loves quilting, but it would really boost her confidence to win a prize.’

  The waiter approached, notebook in hand. ‘Are you ready to order?’

  ‘How about we share the banquet?’ suggested Ethan.

  ‘Great idea.’ Once the waiter had disappeared, she said, ‘So tell me about your work. What do you do?’

  ‘I represent clients who have been injured and can’t work any more. Some of the cases I deal with are heart-breaking. I see a lot of people who are housebound or have mobility issues.’

  ‘It must be very rewarding if you can help them.’ She was impressed. His work was about helping others and she could tell from his tone that his concern for his clients was genuine.

  ‘It is. If I can secure compensation for them at least they know their quality of life will improve. This alleviates one of their worries at least, even if it doesn’t solve all their problems.’

  The waiter brought their starters and she took the opportunity to watch Ethan surreptitiously. Her gaze lingered on his neat hair and gentle blue eyes. She liked that he was smartly dressed and took his responsibilities seriously. Most of all, though, she could relax with him and be herself. He knew she loved quilting, and having grown up with a quilter himself, she was certain he wouldn’t judge her for the quiet life she led.

  He glanced up and caught her looking at him. She smiled bashfully, then picked up a spring roll and concentrated on dipping it in its sauce.

  ‘I’m glad you suggested we go out for dinner,’ he said, smiling. ‘It’s tricky with Mum and everything – I don’t often meet new people.’

  ‘Me neither.’ She smiled, enjoying the warm feeling that spread through her. ‘What about through your work?’

  ‘They’re clients and they’re usually in a vulnerable situation, so even if there was interest, it wouldn’t be professional to act on it.’ He took a sip of his drink. ‘I must confess, I thought you’d have lots of admirers, possibly a man in your life already.’

  ‘I don’t, but thank you for the compliment.’ She smiled graciously.

  He returned her smile, and as their eyes locked she had the same feeling as when she was playing around with different-coloured squares of fabric, lining them up, then rearranging them – until suddenly the perfect combination appeared before her eyes.

  The sensation of everything falling into place.

  At the end of the evening Ethan turned off the main road and drove slowly through the woods. The cottage came into view, and although the porch light was still burning, the rest of the house was in darkness.

  ‘Your cottage is on its own out here,’ Ethan observed, as his headlights swung over the trees and bushes that surrounded it.

  Liberty tensed, remembering the similar observation Alex had made when he’d first arrived. Was he going to criticise it too, and say it was too quiet? Or creepy? ‘It is.’

  ‘You’re lucky. It must be incredible to look out on the woods, all that greenery and wildlife.’

  ‘Yes, it’s a beautiful place to live. Although I know some people don’t like it out here. They think it’s too isolated.’

  He switched off the engine. ‘I haven’t seen it in daylight, but I’d love to live in a place like this, with woodland all around and nature on your doorstep.’

  They got out of the car and beechnut husks crunched underfoot as they approached the front door. ‘I really enjoyed tonight,’ she said quietly.

  Ethan’s blue eyes gleamed in the golden light. ‘Let’s do it again,’ he said. ‘Soon.’

  ‘I’d like that.’ She held his gaze, enjoying the flutter of anticipation. Tonight had worked out exactly as – no, better than – she’d hoped. It felt as if their paths had crossed at the perfect time. He leaned in a little and she looked up, loving that he was taller than her, how at ease she felt around him. There were no jangling nerves, no sparks flying: it was harmonious and easy. His gaze dipped to her lips and he kissed her. She moved closer, wrapping her arms around his waist, and he did the same. It felt warm and sweet.

  Chapter Ten

  Monday, 8 December

  Alex left the building and stepped out into the dreary wet weather. It matched his mood. He had to face the fact that he’d run out of leads in the search for his sister. He’d checked all the local parish records in person – every single damn one – and found nothing. And today’s visit to a different department of the town hall, suggested by someone on Willowbrook’s online forum, had been as fruitless as he’d expected. He’d been desperately clinging to the hope of finding his half-sister as a distraction from his own problems, but now despair sucked him under. Without a name, his search was fruitless; without racing his future was empty. Where the hell did he go from here?

  Shivering, he peered up from beneath the stone porch and rubbed his hands together. Low clouds the colour of bruises emptied their contents onto the street with a persistent drumming and, judging by the puddles all around, they’d been doing so for a while already. Alex scanned the road for the spot where he’d parked his—

  An icy chill slid through him. The severed chain was lying on the ground where his bike had been. Cursing, he strode over, looking left and right, but he knew it was futile. The thief would have driven away in seconds, and even if they’d loaded the bike onto a truck, it would have taken less than a minute. His fists clenched.

  He was livid. It was an exceptional bike, a piece of beauty and engineering prowess. But that was precisely why theft was always going to be a risk no matter where in the world he took it. He’d known that. He raised his eyes to the heavens. Still, it felt like a double blow on top of everything else.

  What would he do now? How would he get about?

  He stamped back inside the building and pulled out his phone. There was nothing he could do except call the police.

  The shop bell jingled as another customer left, carrying bags full of fabric. Liberty breathed a sigh of relief. They’d been rushed off their feet all morning and she was looking forward to a cup of tea once they’d tidied the cutting table and straightened all the shelves.

  Evie scooped up several bolts of fabric and carried them away, whistling a tune from West Side Story as she slotted them back on to the shelves. Liberty smiled to herself. Her boss was always cheerful, but today even more so than usual. Liberty cleared the cutting mat, sweeping up all the scraps and threads. A loud thud made her start.

  ‘Ow!’ Evie’s voice was muffled, coming from the other side of the shop.

  Liberty ran over and found her on the floor with bolts of fabric scattered all around.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I tripped.’ Evie rubbed her back as Liberty helped her up. She grinned. ‘Good job I was only carrying fabric and not the tea tray.’

  Liberty laughed. ‘Why don’t I finish tidying up and you put the kettle on?’

  ‘Good idea. While it’s boiling, I’ll nip next door and get some mince pies, too. We deserve a treat – we haven’t stopped all morning.’ Evie brushed herself off and disappeared into the back room.

  Five minutes later, they sat down with their tea. Liberty was eager to tell her about her date last night, but Evie got in first. ‘Lib, I’ve got some news.’

  ‘Good or bad?’

  ‘Good. Definitely. Fabulous, in fact. Amazing, brilliant, incre—’

  ‘Okay, okay!’ Liberty interrupted. ‘Tell me!’

  ‘I asked Jake to marry me …’

  Liberty gasped.

&n
bsp; ‘… and he said yes.’

  ‘Oh, Evie, that’s wonderful!’ She hugged her. ‘I’m so pleased for you both.’

  ‘Thanks. To be honest, I wasn’t sure about the whole marriage business after what happened with my ex, and I wasn’t sure Jake would want to remarry either, but we’ve been together almost a year now and, well, it feels right.’

  ‘Of course it’s right. You’re perfect for each other.’ Liberty’s gaze automatically went to her left hand. ‘Have you chosen a ring?’

  ‘I don’t need an engagement ring. I’m happy to wait for the wedding band instead.’

  ‘Oh.’ She was surprised, but Evie had been engaged before to a horrible man who’d cheated on her. Perhaps that was why she was approaching marriage in a slightly unconventional way. ‘You don’t want something more than a plain band?’

  Evie shook her head. ‘I used to work in a jeweller’s, remember? I’ve seen all the rocks, and I know they aren’t what matters. More important is the pledge of loyalty and love between two people, and you don’t need a ring for that.’

  A ring would be nice, though, Liberty thought. She’d love a dark ruby. Or a garnet. Something vibrant and bold. Not a boring diamond like most people went for. ‘Have you decided when the wedding will be?’

  ‘Spring next year.’ Evie smiled. ‘And we’re going to combine the Christmas ball with our engagement party next week. Since everyone in the village is invited, it seems the perfect time to announce it.’

  ‘Great idea. I won’t breathe a word.’

  ‘I’ve got the invitations with me.’

  While Evie riffled through her bag, Liberty wondered what to get for an engagement gift. She decided she’d make them a quilt, and immediately began to plan the design. It would be black and white with a burst of colour in the middle – but what? A red heart? No, too twee. A double wedding ring design? Too obvious. A Celtic love knot? Yes, that was it. The symbol consisted of two interlocking hearts made from one continuous length of material, so it had no beginning and no end. And if she used a strip of gradated colour, all the shades of the rainbow would be in there, representing the joys and sorrows of life. Perfect.

  ‘Lib, are you listening?’

  She blinked. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I was asking if you’d like to bring your lodger to the ball? Luc’s friend.’

  ‘Alex? Oh – well, I can ask him.’

  Evie peered at her. ‘I thought he was being friendlier now. Didn’t he cook dinner for you?’

  ‘He did. And he is being friendlier. But would you mind if I bring a date too?’

  Evie raised a brow. ‘Of course. The more the merrier. Who is it?’

  ‘I thought I’d ask Ethan. You know, the guy who comes in here. We went out last night and it was …’, she searched for the word, ‘… perfect.’

  Evie’s eyes widened and she clapped her hands. ‘Tell me everything, Liberty McKenzie.’

  Liberty drove home looking forward to a quiet night in. After a run of dates and dinners she welcomed the prospect of her Monday-night routine: a bottle of wine and some hand quilting. Approaching the cottage she noticed Alex’s motorbike wasn’t there and wondered where his search had taken him today.

  She shivered as she got out of the car. She’d have to light the fire: it was distinctly colder today, and there was talk of snow later in the week. She opened the front door and Charlie bounded up to greet her.

  ‘My favourite boy!’ She grinned as he nuzzled her affectionately. ‘How are you, gorgeous?’

  ‘Liberty, hi.’ The male voice made her jump.

  She spun round. Alex was standing in the lounge doorway. ‘Alex!’ she gasped. ‘But your bike isn’t there. I thought you were out.’

  His eyebrows were knotted in a scowl, and she wondered if his shoulder was causing him pain again.

  He held up his hand apologetically. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you. And my bike has gone. Someone stole it.’

  ‘Where from? Not here, surely.’

  ‘In town.’ His eyes glinted like sharp metal. Silent fury rolled off him.

  ‘That’s terrible. Have you been to the police? Are you insured?’

  ‘Of course. It’s a very valuable bike. The police are not hopeful they’ll get it back.’ He threw his hands into the air. He often did that, she’d noticed, gesticulated and shrugged and used a million other gestures, so that words were just a tiny part of how he communicated.

  ‘Can you hire another for the rest of your trip?’

  ‘I’m sure it’s possible, but I haven’t looked into it yet.’

  He sounded so despondent that her heart tugged. She knew how he adored that bike. And after going out on it herself she understood a fraction more than she would have done before. ‘Oh dear. That really is bad luck.’ And so early in his stay, too.

  He hadn’t seemed happy here anyway, and now he had even more reason to scowl.

  She reached into her bag for the thick cream envelopes Evie had given her and handed one to him. ‘Here, this might cheer you up.’

  ‘What is it?’ He took it but peered over to read hers, which was already open. ‘To Liberty plus one.’

  ‘Evie and Jake are holding a Christmas ball next week.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said, and put the invitation down without opening it.

  ‘Are you going to come?’

  ‘They’re your friends, not mine.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not like that at all. Everyone in the village is invited.’

  ‘Everyone? That’s not possible.’

  ‘It is. Willowbrook isn’t that big. And the party’s a tradition at the Old Hall. They’ve held a Christmas ball there every year for the last two hundred years.’

  ‘You love your traditions round here, don’t you?’

  Liberty frowned. She knew he was upset about his bike, but there was no need to take that sarcastic tone. ‘I’m sure even Parisians have their traditions too,’ she said with a proud lift of her chin. ‘Anyway, Luc and Natasha are going. And Ethan. He won’t know anyone either.’ When she’d called him earlier, he’d readily agreed.

  ‘When is it?’ he asked wearily.

  ‘This Saturday.’

  He shook his head. ‘I might not be here.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m not getting anywhere with my search, and now this … Maybe I should just cut short my trip.’

  She was surprised at the flutter of disappointment she felt. They’d just been starting to get along. ‘That’s a shame,’ she murmured, and held up the invitation. ‘You’re always saying this place is too quiet. This would have been a chance to let your hair down and party.’

  His lip curled. ‘No, thanks.’

  Alex tried to stay focused on what Liberty was saying but it was difficult. His mind was elsewhere, trying to assimilate the fact that his bike was gone and with it his ability to get about independently, to get adrenalin kicks – his only source of pleasure. It felt as if part of him had been taken.

  At least he was sleeping better now and hadn’t needed it to make nocturnal escapes for the last few nights. Small comfort.

  So what was he going to do? He owned half a dozen bikes, but none were in England, and they weren’t tourers anyway.

  ‘Even his job is about helping other people. He’s so caring, and I felt so relaxed with him. None of my other dates have been like that. The whole evening was just perfect. He even asked me about—’ Liberty stopped abruptly. ‘Alex, are you listening to me?’

  ‘What? Oh. Sorry.’

  ‘It’s my fault. I’m boring you, aren’t I?’ Her smile was sheepish. ‘I keep forgetting you’re not Carys. She always wanted to know all the juicy details.’

  ‘You’re not boring me,’ he lied. ‘I’m glad it went well. Sounds like you found your perfect date.’

  ‘Yes. I really think I have.’ Her eyes were bright, like morning dew on autumn leaves. Enchanting.

  He felt an unexpected stir of desire. Frowning, he pushed away the thought.

/>   ‘I’m so grateful to you,’ she went on. ‘I wouldn’t have had the nerve without your encouragement.’

  He shrugged.

  ‘I bet you can’t imagine feeling fear. You love danger, speed, competition. Is there anything that scares you, Alex?’ She picked up her glass and took a sip.

  A bitter chill touched his bones. He was terrified of the empty future facing him. What reason did he have for getting out of bed each day now he couldn’t race? He had no skills beyond the track. He was useless, hadn’t even been able to achieve the one thing he’d come here to do.

  ‘Not the kind of things you’re talking about,’ he said gruffly.

  He was grateful for the distraction when the kitchen door nudged open and Charlie came in, one of Alex’s boots dangling from his mouth. He dropped it at his feet. Alex gave a weak laugh and scratched the dog’s ears. ‘Not now, Charlie. I’m not in the mood for that game.’

  He sneezed and the dog did his pitiful-big-eyes routine.

  ‘Are you still thinking about your bike?’ Liberty said quietly.

  ‘Yeah.’ How would he get his fix of speed, get rid of his frustrations? He pictured the bleak forest outside and the dull limp clouds that had hung over him all day.

  He’d believed this trip couldn’t get any worse, but it had now.

  ‘Can’t you rent another?’ Liberty asked.

  ‘It wouldn’t be the same.’

  ‘Buy one, then?’

  ‘It was bespoke.’ Even an expensive bike would never compare with his own, a design he’d tinkered with and refined. It would be like losing a Rolls-Royce and being given Liberty’s 2CV as a replacement. Perhaps that was the solution – he should rent a car.

  ‘And off the shelf wouldn’t do? Not even as a temporary measure?’

  ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘Alex,’ she said carefully, ‘do you think maybe you’re being a bit … picky?’

  ‘You’re probably right.’ He sighed, black thoughts clouding his head. Who was he without a bike? Racing was all he’d ever known since the age of eighteen. He hated the thought that his identity was so bound up in something that could be stolen, in a machine. He hated how he felt right now. Marooned. Useless. Lost.