by Alice Ross
‘Gold star for you then,’ said Annie, chuckling. ‘I’ll put him to bed, then we can have a good old natter while I cobble together something for dinner.’
Amelia grimaced. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I made a vegetable casserole.’
Annie’s mouth stretched into a wide smile. ‘Mind?’ she echoed, gently extracting her son from Amelia. ‘I could kiss you. I’m absolutely shattered. Let me take this little one upstairs, then we can have a drink before we eat.’
While Annie carried a sleeping Thomas upstairs, Amelia wandered through to the kitchen to check on the food. Annie joined her a few minutes later.
‘As you’ve probably gathered, this time of year is completely nuts here,’ she began, marching over to one of the kitchen cupboards and pulling out a couple of wine glasses. ‘Thankfully, tonight’s Jake’s last night with the writing course – big posh dinner in the manor’s dining room and all that. And Sophie is now sleeping over at Bethany’s house. Which means it’s just the two of us. You up for a nice girlie night?’
Amelia laughed as she took the glasses from her sister. She’d never had a “nice girlie night” in her entire life. But the thought of spending time alone with Annie – something, she suddenly realised, they hadn’t done since Annie had left home – felt completely right. Setting down the glasses on the table, she slipped onto the bench there, savouring not only the warm, cosy atmosphere of the kitchen, but her surprisingly mellow mood. This unaccustomed state of relaxation she attributed to the fun day she’d had with Thomas, topped off with her sister’s very pleasurable company. In fact, during the short time she’d been in Buttersley, she’d begun to appreciate not only how lovely and popular Annie was, but also how frighteningly competent. An observation she found herself wanting to share.
‘I honestly don’t know how you do it,’ she said, shaking her head in wonderment. ‘I worked hard, but all my efforts were concentrated on one thing. You’re juggling a million different plates at the same time.’
Now perusing the bottles in the wine rack, Annie laughed. ‘I hardly think running a café, organising a few parties, and looking after a couple of kids comes anywhere near your lofty career,’ she said, settling on a bottle of Pinot Grigio.
Amelia shook her head. ‘You’re wrong. I had absolutely no idea how busy your life was. And how spectacularly you manage it all.’
Annie smiled as she unscrewed the cap from the bottle. ‘Thanks. It’s slightly mental at times but I wouldn’t swap it for the world. I love being a wife and mother. And I love running my own businesses and being able to indulge my passion for baking. I feel very blessed.’
‘So you should,’ said Amelia, as Annie joined her at the table. ‘I can’t tell you how impressed I am with everything you have going on here.’
‘Oh, how lovely of you to say so.’ Annie sloshed wine into both glasses and pushed one over to Amelia. ‘And I’d like to take the opportunity to say just how proud I am of you. I’m completely in awe of your dazzling career. And you really shouldn’t let this redundancy thing affect you so much. In cut-throat industries like yours, they’re always chopping and changing. And sometimes it’s simply because the usurpers want to bring in their own people. I bet you any money, that’s what they’ve done with your role.’
Amelia shrugged. ‘Possibly. It’s just work has been my whole life and now …’ She trailed off, part of her desperately wanting to break down and tell Annie absolutely everything, the other part reluctant to spoil this newfound intimacy.
Annie reached across the table and took her hand, causing yet another rush of emotion to pulse through Amelia. ‘Your confidence has been knocked, that’s all. Once you start looking for another job, you’ll be inundated with offers.’
Amelia gave a weak smile. Would she? Probably. But did she care if she wasn’t? She really didn’t know. She was beginning to realise, particularly since overhearing the Scary Aunty Amelia conversation, that there was so much more to life than work. Like meaningful relationships. And at this moment, that was exactly what she wanted with her sister.
‘Thanks,’ she said, squeezing Annie’s hand. ‘For all your support. And for having me here. I know it’s probably a bit strange for you all, given we’ve never really been close, but I’m so pleased you invited me.’
‘I’m so pleased you came,’ said Annie. ‘I have to admit, it was a bit strange at first, but it’s lovely having you here. And just because we haven’t been close in the past doesn’t mean we can’t be in the future. In fact, I’ve decided that we don’t see nearly enough of one another and that, from now on, we’ll meet at least once a month. And you do know that, as your big sister, you have to do what I say.’
Amelia laughed. ‘It’s a deal. And as my big sister, if I ever put you off because of anything remotely connected to work, you have permission to tell me off.’
‘I’ll do better than that,’ chuckled Annie. ‘I’ll delegate the task to Sophie. And believe me, a telling off from her is not something you’d want to repeat.’ She released her hold of Amelia’s hand and picked up her wine glass. ‘Now, enough of this emotional stuff. Tell me how you got on with Thomas today. I’m dying to know.’
Feeling happier than she had in a very long while, Amelia couldn’t resist another laugh. ‘Well, I was ever so slightly terrified at first,’ she confessed. ‘But he’s great fun. I really enjoyed spending time with him.’
‘Delighted to hear it,’ said Annie, beaming across the table. ‘But don’t enthuse too much or you may find we won’t let you go. And on the subject of you going, or rather not going, I hope you’ll spend Christmas with us. You might as well given it’s so near.’
Amelia caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She’d dreamed of spending Christmas with Doug. Just the two of them. In a romantic log cabin, with a roaring fire, a huge hamper of festive goodies, DVDs of old black-and-white movies, and the obligatory fur rug. A welcome change from her usual festive “celebrations” of booking herself into a health farm and basically sleeping for the entire holiday. God, how sad did that seem now that she was surrounded by all The Cedars’s Christmas Cheer?
In previous years when Annie – or indeed anyone else – had enquired about her Christmas plans, she’d always said she was spending it with friends. What friends? This year, though, the idea of being alone made her nerves jangle. But she didn’t want to commit to anything yet. Not until she knew what Doug was doing. ‘I’d love to,’ she replied. ‘But can I let you know in a couple of days. I’m not really sure what my plans are at the moment.’
Annie nodded. ‘Of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just wanted to let you know that you’d be most welcome if you did want to stay.’
‘Thanks,’ said Amelia. ‘I really appreciate that.’ And she did. How wonderful it was to know someone cared. She’d thought Doug did. But now she was beginning to wonder. Still, she didn’t want to ruin what – despite its inauspicious start following his “goings on” phone call that morning – had turned out to be one of the nicest days she’d had for ages.
‘Thomas and I went to the park this morning,’ she said, steering the conversation onto pleasanter waters.
Annie clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh God. He didn’t insist on dressing like a Womble, like he normally does, did he?’ironi
Amelia giggled. ‘No, he was great actually. Well, apart from calling somebody’s baby fat.’
Annie grimaced. ‘Ugh. He’s a charmer, my son. Were they offended?’
‘Not at all. It was a little girl called Maddy.’
‘Maddy Suffolk! I bumped into her and Stan when I dashed down to the shop for some flour earlier. She’s adorable. And Stan’s one of the nicest guys ever. They moved up from London last year.’
‘Yes, he was telling me. We had a long chat actually.’ And they had. Despite usually keeping her guard around strangers, for some inexplicable reason, Amelia had instantly warmed to Stan Suffolk – something she rarely experienced. In his lime-green ski j
acket and deerstalker hat, he’d reminded her of the cuddly toy Loch Ness Monster she’d had as a child. But it had been his eyes that had had the biggest impact on her. Lovely warm eyes, the colour of melting honey.
‘His wife’s nice, too,’ she tuned back in to hear Annie saying. ‘A bit anal though. She used to work in marketing and I think she looks on motherhood as one of her “projects”. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d carried out a feasibility study and gathered together a focus group to discuss the idea of her even getting pregnant.’
Amelia chuckled. ‘Maybe that’s why he hardly mentioned her then. We mainly talked about work and stuff. I think he’s found it quite a culture shock moving out of London.’
‘And for the better, I imagine. Maybe you should think about it too. Change of scene, different career. Might do you good. Chuck in a couple of kids and you’d be a new woman.’
Amelia laughed. She’d never thought about having kids before. But today, spending time with Thomas, and watching Stan with his daughter, the idea had, for the first time ever, crossed her mind. Not that she had anybody to have kids with. And unless Doug got his act together, she might never have. As Annie rattled on about other people in the village who’d moved up from the capital, she contemplated telling her about Doug. Just as quickly, she decided against it. It was all far too complicated and, as pathetic and vulnerable as she’d been feeling lately, she’d only end up in tears – again. No, best stick to neutral subjects.
‘Oh,’ she piped up instead, when Annie broke for breath. ‘The guy who has the pub, Phil, is it? He turned up in the park as well. He was out for a run. I hear he’s off to Australia soon. God help the women out there. He looks like the archetypal love ’em and leave ’em type.’
Annie giggled. ‘You’re right. He does. If anyone was made for Bondi Beach, it’s Phil. But he’s actually a lovely, lovely bloke. And he’s done a brilliant job with the pub. We’re all devastated he’s going. Jake’s talking about organising a leaving bash for him. Now, I’m starving. Let’s eat,’ she said, rising from the table. ‘Would you like rice with your casserole, or should we just dunk our bread in like we used to at home?’
Amelia smiled as she recalled those lovely winter evenings when Annie was home and they’d all gathered round the table with one of their mother’s hearty stews. At the memory, a lovely warm fuzzy feeling scuttled down her spine.
‘Bread. Definitely,’ she said.
*
Rachel’s thrusting of the house photo – amongst other things – into the Skype camera had not only exacerbated Phil’s gloomy mood, but had made him appreciate Buttersley all the more. The house that had her drooling had increased his already jittery state. He didn’t want to live in a cardboard shoebox that reminded him of school, surrounded by a perfect grid of other cardboard shoeboxes that reminded him of school. Regardless of whether the sun shone on them or not! He wanted to live in Buttersley, where every building was unique, where every shop was owned by a colourful character – not a faceless chain – and where everybody knew one another.
Like today, for instance, when he’d been out for his run and bumped into Stan. The fact that he’d been with Annie’s sister had made him hesitate before he’d approached them. Bit of a strange one, that Amelia, he’d concluded. She’d been all smiley and chatty with Stan before spotting Phil. He obviously turned her switch to the cool end of the dial. Not that he was bothered. He had enough on his plate without worrying about some stuck-up madam he didn’t know the first thing about.
On a more positive note, it’d been good seeing Stan. Like Jake, he was another sound bloke. He usually came into the pub on his own so it’d been strange seeing him with his daughter in the park. It must be nice being so settled, he’d mused, as he’d continued his run. Rachel, being Rachel, he couldn’t imagine ever being settled. She was too full of life. Always up for an adventure, always pushing herself, on the lookout for the next goal or project. All part of the reason he’d been attracted to her in the first place. But maybe he was too old for all that malarkey now. Maybe he’d prematurely turned into a pipe and slippers man. Or maybe, the scariest notion of all and one he really didn’t want to contemplate, he was simply with the wrong woman.
*
‘So, what’s the latest with you, Ella?’
Ella cringed inwardly. Arriving home from her shift at the Stables that evening, she’d discovered her mother and her fresh-from-uni four brothers and sister gathered round the kitchen table, tucking into plates of homemade pizzas. Despite having determined, on the way home, to make the best of the situation, Ella felt a prick of resentment. Couldn’t they at least have waited for her before eating? But then again, why should they? Stanway House was as much their home as it was hers. Even if they did use it as a hotel.
Shoving aside her hostile feelings, she galvanised her resolve to make an effort and join in. Easier said than done, she soon discovered, with the chat revolving around all things university: exams, grades, sporting achievements, placements – topics to which she could contribute nothing, other than a banal ‘Really?’ or ‘That sounds good’. But now Olly, the aspiring architect, had twisted the spotlight onto her, and all five intellectual faces gazed at her expectantly. Not that they’d be expecting much. Nobody ever expected much from Ella.
‘Oh, you know,’ she replied, as breezily as she could, ‘I’m still working at the tearoom at the manor. It’s good fun actually.’
‘I’m sure it is,’ said soon-to-be-doctor Honor. ‘But you can’t be a waitress for ever. What are you actually going to do?’
Meeting her sister’s amber gaze, Ella resisted a weary sigh. In all her willowy ethereal beauty, Honor resembled a Hollywood movie star. From the age of five, Ella had deemed it unfair that her sister had been blessed with looks, brains, and poker-straight hair. One of those would have sufficed for Ella. ‘What am I actually going to do?’ she repeated, as Honor lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow. ‘I have no idea.’
From across the other side of the table, her mother gave a not-so-subtle cough. ‘Actually, Ella’s thinking of applying for a job at the Job Centre.’
Ella affected a disingenuous smile. ‘Actually I’m not.’
‘Why not?’ pressed Robert. ‘There are worse places than the civil service to work. They have a very decent pension scheme.’
Ella glanced around the table at all the enquiring faces, eagerly awaiting her response. She didn’t have one. And certainly not one that involved pension schemes. Who gave a stuff about things like that when they were eighteen, for God’s sake?
‘Hmm,’ mused Honor, plucking a chunk of pineapple from the slice of Hawaiian pizza on her plate. ‘I’m not really sure the Job Centre would suit Ella.’
Ella felt a flicker of hope. Did she have an ally here? Was some sisterly bonding about to take place for the first time ever? Evidently not.
‘Why don’t you think about secretarial stuff? At least then you wouldn’t have to mix with the great unwashed.’
Her positive resolve had lasted less than one hour. Not that she was surprised. More than ten minutes with her siblings and she always felt like a complete failure. Pushing her chair back from the table, she rose to her feet and announced, ‘I’ve just remembered. I’ve forgotten to post a couple of Christmas cards.’
‘Can’t you do it in the morning?’ asked her mother, regarding her through narrowed eyes.
Ella shook her head, her urge to escape the room increasing by the second. ‘No. Best do it now. I think there’s an early collection in the morning.’
Without waiting for a response, she beat a hasty retreat.
Outside, a frost was beginning to form, making the pavements look as though they’d been dusted with icing sugar. Despite her warm coat, Ella shivered. She had no idea where to go. She only knew that she couldn’t stay in the house a minute longer, subjecting herself to the Hargreaves’ Inquisition. Why couldn’t she belong to a normal family, not one full of confident, go-getting geniuses? Life so wasn�
�t fair.
Tugging her scarf a shade tighter around her neck, she began marching in the direction of The Cedars. Why, she had no idea. She couldn’t just bowl up at Jake and Annie’s door without good reason, no matter how much she wanted to. As she walked, her mind swung back, as it had so many times, to that delicious moment in the car with Jake after she’d all but whispered that comment about him being wonderful on his writing course.
Of course she could be mistaken. Her knowledge of anything romantic was, after all, limited to the fluffy books she read and the rom-com films she watched. But despite her lack of experience, Ella was acutely aware of her feelings, and the look that had passed between them – that intense look, with Jake’s dark eyes boring into her very soul – had made her head spin and her stomach flip. It had been like nothing she’d ever experienced before. If her instincts were right, there was something very special between her and Jake O’Donnell. Something so strong, he had to be aware of it too.
That thought winched up her spirits, making her feel instantly better. She’d walk around the village green, she decided, before returning home. Not that anyone would be remotely interested whether she returned home or not. The only person who was interested in her was Jake. And that was more than enough for Ella.
*
‘Oh, I forgot to say that I bumped into Stan in the shop earlier,’ said Jake that morning, in The Cedars’s kitchen, where the usual breakfast chaos ensued. ‘He’s offered to give us a hand organising Phil’s leaving do.’
Despite Thomas singing his own rendition of Jingle Bells at the top of his voice, as Amelia munched her toast, her ears pricked up at the mention of Stan’s name. She’d been in the high street yesterday and caught sight of a man wearing a lime-green ski jacket just like his. But when he’d turned round, it hadn’t been Stan. The ensuing prick of disappointment had surprised her.
At the Aga, Annie stopped stirring a pan of porridge and turned to face her husband. ‘Er, where’s this us suddenly come from? I thought you were organising it.’
