‘In the basement, it’s perfect. But it’s locked right now as I don’t want guests going down there. The staircase is ridiculously steep.’
‘Anything I can do to help?’ Holly stepped into the room. ‘Whoa, that’s a lot of gifts.’
‘Santa has been crazy generous this year,’ Adele admitted. ‘Lucky we were under the limit with our luggage weight or this would send us over the edge on the return trip.’
Holly gestured to a chair. ‘May I?’
‘Of course. You any good at wrapping?’
‘As a matter of fact, I am. I’m one of those weird people that finds it soothing.’
Darcy grinned. Soothing wasn’t exactly the description she’d use. ‘I’ll leave you two to it,’ she said, but they were already deep in discussion about gift tags and what made the best ribbons, impossible shapes to wrap, what Adele had bought for her boys. Holly even offered to stash all of the presents in her apartment out of the way of prying eyes until very late tonight. The place was too big for just her anyway, she’d said.
Darcy bundled up warm and stepped out onto the snowy Manhattan streets. She couldn’t stop smiling. It was almost Christmas, magic was in the air, and everything was going perfectly. She headed straight for the Chelsea Market complex, where she first collected their pre-ordered prawns. Then she went to the fruit and vegetable markets with her list from Rupert and picked up anything else they needed, and less than an hour and a half later bustled through the doors to the Inglenook Inn and the ringing telephone.
She dropped the bags to the floor, rushed to get it and found it was Mr and Mrs Pendleton, who were stranded in Toronto. Their flight had been cancelled and they wouldn’t make it to New York for Christmas after all. Darcy was apologetic on behalf of the weather even though there was nothing she could’ve done about it, but as soon as she hung up, she called through to the hotel in Brooklyn and cancelled the emergency booking she’d made for the Cunninghams. Myles and his family could all have Christmas under the same roof and for some reason it lifted her spirits to an impossible high.
She unbuttoned her coat, hung it up, took the food through to the kitchen where Rupert was in full flow preparing for that evening.
‘How did the gingerbread cookies go down?’ he asked as he perused the food she’d bought to check he’d be working with the best ingredients.
‘Well, there’s an empty tray upstairs – that should tell you something,’ she smiled.
She helped unload the food, emptied the dishwasher so Rupert could focus on preparations for tonight, when guests would be served canapés and champagne over the course of a few hours as and when they wanted to indulge. It was what Christmas Eve was all about for Darcy. A chance to sparkle, dress up and talk with guests, feel that small-town spirit even here in the big city.
She only hoped she could manage to think of Myles as she would any other guest. But she knew that wasn’t going to be easy. Making a decision not to take her feelings any further and to be professional was one thing, but actually going through with it and keeping her distance was something else entirely.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Myles
Myles couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his parents laugh so hard. It was cathartic, a tremendous relief from the tension over not only the last couple of days but all the years since he was a little boy.
At an ice rink on the east side of Central Park, with a city backdrop and the snow continuing to fall, they’d rented skates and gone from an unsteady, teetering Bambi-like trio to three reasonably competent skaters – unless you looked at some of the kids who were skating backwards, twisting this way and that, or even doing some kind of spin with one foot off the floor.
‘Come on, Myles!’ Martha wobbled on her ice-skates as she came round the rink again, holding on to Ian’s hand. ‘Show us oldies how it’s done!’
Myles had skated enough loops that he’d snuck off, not only for a rest but to allow his parents this time together. What they didn’t realise was that as well as enjoying their company, what he was revelling in was seeing their relationship so strong, so different from how he remembered. It was great to see, and he’d already texted Winston a photograph as evidence.
‘I’ll join you again soon,’ he called after them as his mum laughed away and his dad, a fierce concentration on his face, was the one to wobble this time. They’d stayed upright thankfully. The last thing he wanted was to have to take either of them back to the Inn with broken bones or kaput hips.
Darcy had texted Ian a couple of hours ago as they walked over to the rink, to say that the move to Brooklyn tomorrow was off because a couple had cancelled their stay at the Inn. Myles’ parents were welcome to stay for a few more nights. Ian and Martha had been ecstatic and Myles had felt an excitement he hadn’t experienced in years. Pre-Christmas was usually a time filled with dread, but, now, it was like being a child all over again.
The air was freezing standing here by the rink. Myles hadn’t quite known cold like it before, but it was part of the New York experience, and the only other thing he really wanted here, the only thing that could make it extra perfect, would be to have Darcy by his side. But she’d made a firm decision and he got the impression she wasn’t the type of woman to be easily swayed. His mum had tried to talk to him about her as they’d made their way towards Central Park, but although they’d sorted out a lot of things, he wasn’t quite ready for those kinds of discussions yet.
Myles joined his parents one last time and when their legs ached from the effort to balance, their faces were red and sore from the onslaught of the cold, it was time to recuperate with hot drinks at a café on their way back to the Inn.
‘I was impressed with you both today.’ Myles cradled a coffee as his mum unwrapped her scarf, took off her coat and his dad hung it on the back of the chair for her.
‘I haven’t done that in a very long time.’ The cold, still evident on Ian’s face by his red nose and cheeks, hadn’t driven away the look of delight that Myles had waited years to see. He looked relaxed, ready to take on whatever life threw at him.
‘I think the last time I went ice-skating was with Winston,’ said Myles, ‘when we took his kids to the rink in Richmond. Remember, they went through a craze of wanting to learn and take lessons?’
Martha smiled. ‘Didn’t last long, then it was onto indoor climbing, wasn’t it?’
‘And don’t forget diving – wasn’t that Lulu’s dream after watching the Olympics on television?’
‘I guess kids have their dreams, don’t they?’ Martha stirred a sachet of sugar through her coffee.
‘I always wanted to be a pilot,’ Myles confessed.
‘I never knew that.’ The happiness on Martha’s face wavered for a second.
He hadn’t meant her to feel guilty. They were chatting about inconsequential things, but he guessed it had been around the time she’d started drinking and his dad was away a lot. ‘I was fascinated. Actually, I still am.’ He’d make a joke, lighten the mood. ‘I mean, how do planes stay up in the sky?’
It worked. His mum smiled. ‘I sat looking out over the wing on the way here and found myself wondering the same thing.’
Conversation turned to flying, destinations, holidays, hopes and dreams they’d all had. Myles learned his dad had wanted to make cars once upon a time and that his mum had always dreamt of having her own wool shop.
‘You know, it’s called yarn here,’ Myles told her, glad they could talk about something she was comfortable with. He realised over the years he’d probably punished her, subtly, mostly without thinking about it, but now he was conscious to turn things around and make just as much effort as she was. He’d gone to sleep last night thinking what if she’d died and they’d never made peace, and the thought had had him tossing and turning until the small hours, because it was unbearable.
‘I haven’t knitted anything in years,’ Martha told them. ‘I saw Darcy knitting yesterday and almost asked her about it but she looked
like she was finally having a few minutes to herself so I left her to it. I’ll have to ask her about it later.’
‘I’m sure she wouldn’t mind,’ said Ian. ‘I think she sees it as part of her job to make customers feel almost like they’re at home rather than away in a strange place. She’ll go far that one.’
Myles didn’t miss the look from his dad but chose not to mention it. Instead, they talked about the gathering at the Inn tonight. He wondered whether Darcy would be there the whole time, or if guests would be left to their own devices. The other people staying under the same roof seemed pleasant enough, but it was Darcy who interested him the most. He had a while left staying at the Inn and hoped in that time she’d still be there too, although when the owner returned she was bound to move on to something different. And in a city the size of New York, he might never see her again.
‘I think it’ll be far nicer than finding a stuffy restaurant with hordes of other people and not being able to talk above the noise,’ said Ian.
‘You did well to find the Inglenook Inn, Myles.’ Martha put her teaspoon into her empty mug.
‘I’ve been happy with it. The apartment I’ll be moving into should be ready soon.’
‘Oh, you must take us to see it! Please, before I leave.’
‘I promise I will. There’s too much snow today to trudge over there but we’ll do it after Christmas, how does that sound?’
‘It sounds pretty good to me.’
And for the first time in forever, Myles felt like he was part of a fully functioning family.
*
When the skies outside grew dark, they congregated outside his parents’ apartment ready to head downstairs and join everyone else. His dad looked dapper in black trousers – although he supposed he should get with the New York lingo and call them pants – and a burgundy shirt. His mum had on a cream silk top with an indigo scarf tied in a loose knot at the front and the necklace with a single pearl drop at the end that she’d always worn. Myles wore jeans teamed with a white shirt beneath a charcoal sweater. He’d splashed on his usual aftershave, checked his reflection more than once, and he hoped he’d get to talk to Darcy at least a little bit tonight.
‘Merry Christmas!’ Holly greeted Martha the second she stepped off the bottom step. Myles grinned. She was clearly in the Christmas spirit and goodness knows how much champagne or eggnog she’d had.
He stopped his dad while his mum was otherwise occupied. ‘Is Mum going to be OK tonight?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The alcohol, Dad.’
‘The liquor?’
Myles’s head tipped back when he laughed at his dad trying to get in with the way New Yorkers spoke. He’d started saying he was nipping to the restroom instead of the bathroom, he’d filled a glass of water from the faucet rather than the tap, and now he was talking about liquor. ‘Very Manhattan.’ He patted his dad on the shoulder.
‘She’ll be fine, son.’ His face softened, despite the seriousness of the topic. ‘She is being incredible, strong, and you have a lot to do with that.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, you. If you hadn’t wanted to hear her apologies, if you’d chosen not to go some way to forgive her, then I’m not sure how she would’ve reacted. I like to think we could’ve handled it together, but I’m just glad we didn’t have to.’ He patted his son on the shoulder, just once, but firmly, before joining his wife as she sipped from a glass of orange juice, a strawberry pushed onto the side of the vessel.
Myles took a glass of champagne rather than eggnog, a drink he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to experiment with. He nodded hellos to the O’Sullivans as the father and sons admired the Christmas tree. He watched the young couple, Vanessa and Zach, twirl one another in time to the music, slowly in the compact space now filled with guests but enjoying the moment nonetheless, and when he finally battled his way through he found Darcy standing with a silver platter of canapés resting on one forearm.
She held out the platter to him. ‘Myles, Merry Christmas.’
‘Merry Christmas, Darcy.’ He didn’t take anything but when she pushed the platter closer he asked, ‘What do we have here? They look delicious.’
‘These are sausages covered in a hoisin sauce with sesame seeds. They’re good.’
He picked one up. ‘I don’t doubt they are.’
‘Try it.’
‘Are you trying to make me eat so I can’t talk and ask you any questions?’
Her cheeks coloured. ‘Of course not.’
‘You’re wearing the same dress,’ he said, his eyes not looking away, his fingers twiddling the cocktail stick and the sausage still in one piece on the end of it. ‘The dress you wore to The Plaza.’
‘I like to make the most of my clothes.’
‘I didn’t mean it as a criticism. You look beautiful.’
She went to move past him but Holly came up behind her and said, ‘Point me to the champagne, Darcy.’
Darcy tipped her head. ‘Over there. I left some fresh glasses lined up on the bar.’
When Holly left, Myles lowered his voice. ‘How many of those has she had?’
‘No idea, but she was first here tonight.’
‘She’s having fun.’
‘She is.’
‘Good for your write-up next year.’
‘Let’s hope so.’
Damn, he shouldn’t have made any reference to the editor’s write-up. Darcy had already turned with the platter to offer the sausages to Adele and her elder son. They both took a couple and when the youngest son helped himself and almost put a half-eaten one back after realising it wasn’t to his taste, Darcy leaned in and asked him very nicely to drop it in the trash near the bar. She had a way with everyone it seemed.
Myles chatted with Zach about ice-skating in Central Park. They’d been earlier too and Vanessa had come off the worst with a bruised hip and a graze up her arm that was irritated by the bangles she was wearing.
Myles talked with his dad some more, he spoke to Holly about anything other than the Inn and his email, and he exchanged pleasantries with Rupert when he came out to deliver another platter of food to Darcy and take away the one that had been emptied in a few short minutes.
Christmas music played softly in the background and the ambience tonight was so right that Myles was glad to be a part of it.
When he got another orange juice for his mum, he happened to be right next to Darcy, who was greeting two newcomers who weren’t staying at the Inn. Darcy kissed each of them on the cheek and asked after someone called Grandpa Joe, as well as asking about the kids and sympathising at tales of sleepless nights while the couple’s baby was teething. She thanked the man for updating the website and told him she’d already had further enquiries about booking in for Christmas next year.
‘Myles, these are two very good friends of mine,’ Darcy explained as she held a platter of pumpernickel bites with a beetroot and cream cheese topping. ‘This is Dylan and this is Cleo, and they have a much-needed night off from the kids. Now, I’m really sorry, but I have to circulate and feed the masses. Cleo, don’t leave until I’ve shown you my progress with the sweater. Promise?’ When Cleo agreed Darcy was off again and Myles watched after her, unable to avoid admiring her figure in the dress that hugged every curve of her body.
Myles turned and shook Dylan’s hand. ‘It’s nice to meet you both.’ He did the same with Cleo, unsure of the etiquette. He never knew whether it was better to kiss a woman on the cheek or go with the handshake, but she didn’t seem to mind the avenue he’d chosen. ‘And you look like you’re enjoying a night out.’
‘Oh, we are,’ Cleo replied, her cheeks still rosy from the cold outside. ‘We don’t get much free time, but when we do, it’s all the more special.’
He could tell these two were completely in love and felt a pang of regret that he’d never found that. ‘So where are you guys from? Here in Manhattan?’
‘Actually,’ said Dylan, ‘we were both living in M
anhattan but now we live out in Inglenook Falls, Connecticut. And Cleo is from England.’
‘You are?’
They talked some more about the Cotswolds, a region he was familiar with and where Cleo had lived too.
‘Are you liking New York?’ Cleo wanted to know.
‘I’m liking it more than I thought. I had a suspicion the city would be too manic for me, but it kind of works if you know what I mean. Do you miss being here?’
‘I don’t,’ Dylan admitted, a bottle of low-alcohol beer in his hand. ‘I moved out a while before Cleo because I got to the point where I needed to. I still love coming back here, like tonight. It’s a real treat now, especially when we come here kid-free.’
‘You sound like my brother. He has kids and on the rare occasion he gets his wife to himself he says it’s as though he’s living a different life.’
Dylan chuckled. ‘Sounds about right.’
‘I haven’t had much of a chance to miss Manhattan either,’ Cleo admitted. ‘Family life is a bit crazy and then my knitting store keeps me busy whenever I dare to think I might have a free moment. But I’m the same as Dylan, I like coming to the city occasionally and I remember it for all the fabulous things it offers.’
When Darcy walked by, Dylan told her to send on any more photos and he’d update the website as soon as he could. ‘Sorry – I promise, no more work talk,’ he told Cleo.
Cleo turned to Myles with a frown. ‘He loves web design a bit too much sometimes. Careful or he’ll start talking about it with you.’
‘I’m not that bad,’ Dylan admonished. ‘And I know you want to tell Darcy all the latest about your work.’
Cleo smiled. ‘Actually he’s right, I’d be a hypocrite if I told him off for talking about websites.’ She linked her arm through Dylan’s and told Myles, ‘I run a store and a Christmas market stall and next year I have a much bigger plot at the Inglenook Markets, so I’m already a bit over-excited.’
Snowflakes and Mistletoe at the Inglenook Inn Page 25
