by Jules Wake
‘We always get our tree on the Saturday before Christmas,’ said Lisa, starting on the next one. ‘We get it up and put the lights on during the day and then, after tea, the box of decorations comes down from the loft. That’s my favourite bit, unwrapping each one, from the tissue paper. Rudolf with the missing antler. Glass angels. A star I made in junior school. A pair of wooden ice skates Mum got in the church craft fair and of course the fairy for the top. She’s seen better days but we can’t throw her out.’
She beamed at Siena, her eyes dancing with pleasure. ‘Brings back memories of all the different Christmases. The year of the mouldy pudding, the one Mum forgot the crackers and our favourite, the Christmas of the farting dog, when my uncle brought his ancient spaniel with him. God the smell was awful.’ Lisa burst into peals of laughter. ‘Me and Nanna almost refused to go to my aunt’s this year but she’s promised the dog’s on medication.’
Siena swallowed and concentrated on her decoration which was a bit difficult with her suddenly blurry vision.
It sounded very different from Christmas at the Chateau, where Sandrine would arrive each year in September with a series of mood boards depicting different themes for the household decorations and trees. Her mother would study them for several days before making a final decision. Then, on the first of December, Sandrine and her team would rock up with a van and transform the house in readiness for the first party. Nothing was ever done by the family. Unlike Lisa, she had no warming memories of decorating the tree together. It had never bothered her before, but now she felt like she had missed out on something … and it wasn’t something money could buy.
Two hours and several glasses of wine later, the pine cones were complete and they still hadn’t stop talking. Siena showed Lisa how they were going to make wreaths for the walls of the pub.
‘If we cut each of these tubes into six centimetre sections, we paint the edges white, glue the sections together to create a circle and then, in a couple of random sections we pop different sized gold baubles.’ She held up her prototype. ‘What do you think?’
‘Here’s one I made earlier,’ giggled Lisa and then rolled her eyes. ‘You never saw Blue Peter did you? I’m impressed. How did you get them all to stick together?’
‘With my secret weapon.’ Siena produced a glue gun, holding it up with a James Bond pose. ‘Don’t mess with a girl with gun,’ she said with a grin.
‘Cool.’
‘Unfortunately, I haven’t found anything to make cutting the tubes up very easy. At the moment I’m using a bread knife and this one took forever so we could be here some time.’
‘No worries, I haven’t got work tomorrow. Baggsie the glue gun first though.’
As Siena manfully sawed through the heavy tubing she heard the front door open and voices in the hall.
Jason walked into the kitchen followed by Claire.
‘Oh my God, what the hell happened in here?’ His horrified glance took in the mess. ‘I thought you were going to Lisa’s tonight?’
‘It’s Chriiiiistmas,’ trilled Lisa happily. ‘Hi Claire.’
‘Lisa.’ Claire nodded, her face stern. She didn’t look very impressed.
‘Don’t worry, I promise I’ll tidy it up,’ said Siena with a cheeky grin at Jason’s long suffering expression. ‘Every last smidge of glitter.’
His mouth twisted but she caught a brief glimpse of amusement in his eyes. With a sigh he said, ‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’ He turned to Claire. ‘You remember Siena, my landlady’s sister.’
‘Yes. From Paris. I thought you were only here for the weekend.’ Claire shot Jason a questioning look. ‘I didn’t realise you were still here.’
Siena smiled encouragingly. ‘Yes, I’m afraid I was a bit naughty. I wasn’t completely honest then but I’ll be gone before Christmas.’ She giggled, trying to show the other girl she wasn’t a threat. ‘Jason will be glad to see the back of me by then.’ She picked up the bread knife and began sawing at the cardboard tube again.
‘So what’s this in aid of?’ he asked.
‘I’m the official Christmas interior decorator for the pub. Will’s paying me to decorate the tree.’
‘Paying you?’
‘Proper decorators can charge a fortune.’
‘So you’ve done this sort of thing before in France?’
‘Not exactly. I’ve helped.’ She winked at him. ‘But Will doesn’t need to know that. If he hates what I do, he doesn’t have to pay me.’ The breadknife in her hand slipped and nicked the wooden table. ‘Oops. I keep doing that.’
‘What the hell are you doing?’ He leaned over and took her hand, carefully removing the knife from her already cramped fingers. It wasn’t the best tool for the job. ‘Apart from wrecking my best bread knife and potentially about to sever one of your main arteries?’
‘This is your best bread knife? I’m sorry.’ Siena couldn’t resist teasing him. ‘Where’s the second best one?’
With a shake of his head, he said, ‘Hang on a minute,’ and disappeared out of the kitchen.
Claire stood rather awkwardly looking at the mess on the table, her lips pinched together.
‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ asked Siena suddenly. ‘And can I take your coat for you? Sorry it’s such a mess in here. We’ve been making decorations for hours. We’ll be done soon. The lounge is quite tidy.’ Her face fell. ‘Although I haven’t cleaned out the fireplace. I’m going to be in trouble with Jason again. He likes it to be ready so he can light a new one.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Claire, her voice level and cold. Siena caught the slight flare of her nostrils and felt guilty.
‘So, have you been somewhere nice? Did Jason take you out for dinner?’
The other girl’s eyes darkened and Siena felt she’d put her foot in it again but had no idea why.
‘We went to the pub for a drink, with Ben and Tom and Katie.’
Out of the corner of her eye, Siena saw Lisa hide a smile.
‘That’s nice. Ben’s a sweetie, isn’t he?’
Any answer Claire might have made was interrupted by the return of Jason brandishing a hacksaw. ‘I knew I’d got one somewhere. Sorry Claire, do you want a cup of tea?’
‘Oh brilliant. Thanks.’ Siena reached for the saw.
‘I’d love one.’ Claire began to unbutton her coat.
‘Uh uh nuh.’ Jason lifted the hacksaw high above his head. ‘Don’t even think about it. Give those tubes here. I’ll cut them up for you. I’ve got visions of you sawing off the table leg.’
‘I’m not totally incompetent,’ pouted Siena with a laugh.
‘Not totally, no,’ agreed Jason, ‘but your track record with other people’s blades ain’t so great.’
She bit her lip and looked at his chin. Without thinking she reached up and cupped his chin. ‘It’s looking better than it did this morning.’
As she smiled up into his eyes, a flash of something made her heart flip in her chest, a funny butterfly sensation that stalled her next breath.
‘I’ll make tea, shall I?’ Lisa’s over-bright words broke into the frozen tableau. Siena could have kicked herself at the angry and hurt expression in Claire’s eyes. Jason’s mouth flattened.
Her hand dropped away and she busied herself brushing glitter from her jeans. ‘My boyfriend is always cutting himself shaving. I keep a special balm for him.’
‘What’s the name of it?’ asked Lisa, her voice loud. ‘I’m always cutting my legs shaving. It’s a right pain. And don’t razor nicks bleed? They make a right old mess. I end up with little bits of tissues stuck all over my legs.’
‘I’ll look it up for you.’ Siena and Lisa exchanged looks.
‘I don’t want any tea thanks,’ snapped Claire. ‘It’s time I went home.’
‘I’ll walk you round,’ said Jason and tucked his hand under Claire’s elbow, escorting her from the kitchen without looking back at Siena or Lisa.
Siena was about to tell him that his chin was
covered in glitter but catching Claire’s stern expression thought better of it.
Claire maintained a stony silence during the ten minute walk back to her house. With every footstep his heart sank. She was going to make a scene, he knew it. He hated that. What was he supposed to have done? She had absolutely no reason to be jealous of Siena. He should have stuck to his guns, kept his distance. Taking her out last Sunday had been foolish. Given her the wrong idea.
‘There’s not much point inviting you in, is there?’ she sneered as she put her key in the lock. ‘It’s pretty obvious what’s going on.’
He ran his hand through his hair. Should have put on a hat, his ears were red tipped and starting to hurt.
‘Claire, there’s nothing between me and Siena.’ The injustice of it stung. Most of the time Siena drove him mad. Some of the time. And some of the time she was funny and kind. She made him coffee. And her relentlessly cheerful outlook often made him smile against his will.
‘Who are you trying to convince? She seems to think there is. Pretty proprietary, if you ask me.’ Claire put a high silly voice. ‘Jason likes the fire cleaned out. Oh your poor chin.’ She snorted.
‘Siena’s friendly. There’s no side to her. She’s my landlady’s sister. It was her dad’s house. I can hardly throw her out.’ And now he’d got used to her being around, it wasn’t that bad. At least she tried to stick to his rules.
‘You think I’m pretty stupid, don’t you? All looks pretty cosy to me. The two of you living together.’
‘We’re not living together,’ he said impatiently.
Claire raised her eyebrows. ‘She’s biding her time. No wonder you never wanted me to come round.’ Her voice broke.
Jason’s bit his lip, feeling like seven kinds of shit. The only reason he hadn’t wanted her to come round was because he didn’t want to encourage her.
‘I’m sorry. Night, Claire,’ he said and turned away, wincing as she slammed the door. The first flakes of snow were starting to drift out of the dark sky. He lifted his face welcoming the cold bite of their touch on his face. It felt a fitting penance. He’d probably made Claire cry.
Chapter 12
‘It’s snowed!’ Siena squealed, running over the kitchen window, skirting around Jason who was taking his first sip of coffee.
‘Yup, it snowed.’ He turned his back on the scene and cupped his hands around the coffee cup.
‘Isn’t it gorgeous? I love snow.’ He glanced over his shoulder.
She leaned on the draining board, the blonde hair streaming down her back, staring out at the layer of snow. ‘Do you know what I really love?’
‘Nope.’ He took another slug of coffee, watching her more closely. Her heel jumped up and down, the ball of her foot anchoring her to the floor. He’d noticed she did that a lot, especially when she was enthusiastic, as if without that anchor she might bounce up and down. She was never really still. It was as if a zest for life rippled through her and there was always some part of her body that had to give it release.
‘When it’s perfect like that, untouched except for the animals. Look you can see the bird footprints across the top of the wall. Something, a cat or maybe a fox, across the grass. It reminds me that while we’re sleeping, there’s a whole world going on that has nothing to do with us.’
Unable to help himself, he stood up and joined her at the window. A robin hopped onto the half hidden birdbath, its head cocked to one side as if to say, ‘Listen to her, she’s right.’
‘And you cut all the tubes up for me.’
Jason shrugged. ‘Said I would.’ It had been something to do when he got back last night to stop his brain buzzing.
‘I know but you didn’t have to do them all last night. That’s brilliant, I can take them to the pub with me and assemble them there before I start work.’
He gave a non-committal grunt.
‘And you made coffee all by yourself.’ She gave him another one of her brilliant sunny smiles and poured herself a mug. ‘Cheers.’ She lifted the mug in toast. ‘Hmm, not half bad. Well done. Is it OK if I go in the bathroom?’
‘Yeah, I’ve finished.’
‘Great.’ She headed for the door before turning back to him with a worried frown. ‘How deep do you think it is?’
‘A good foot I reckon.’
‘Will we get to the pub OK?’
Jason laughed. ‘You know you complain about my car?’
‘It’s not the car I complain about.’
‘Land Rovers are built for extreme terrains. We’ll be fine.’
‘Right.’ She frowned again. ‘I don’t have any snow boots.’
‘It’s really not that deep, only an inch or two. It’ll be gone by the morning.’
‘That’s fucking amazing!’ Will circled the tree, his ponytail bobbing as he shook his head. ‘You did all this?’
‘Brilliant, Siena babes,’ added Marcus.
Siena blushed, a smile stretching from ear to ear as the men stood at the base of the tree, paying homage to her work. It had taken all morning and she had a severe crick in her neck but the resulting tree did look pretty special. Her toes tapped on the spot; she wanted to dance. The tree had turned out even better than she’d hoped. With lots of white lights and the white cones with their splashes of red and twinkles of glitter, the tall bushy fir tree evoked Norwegian snow and style.
Only Jason didn’t say much. He’d been very quiet on their journey to work this morning.
She hoped he hadn’t hurt his back carrying her out to the Land Rover. It had been the only solution to her lack of sensible footwear. Thankfully Will had a spare pair of wellington boots, ugly black things, she could borrow. She didn’t think her system could take being swung up into Jason’s arms all Rhett Butler style again. It hadn’t meant anything, that sudden flutter in the pit of her stomach or the urge to bury her face in his neck. A purely physical response to a big strong man making her feel fragile and feminine, which when you were one metre seventy-eight, didn’t happen that often.
‘I’ll finish the wall decorations tonight and bring them in tomorrow.’
‘There’s more?’ Will put his arm around her. ‘You’re a star.
‘Now team, enough of the tree gazing, we’ve got a pub to run and it’s gonna get seriously busy around here for the next couple of weeks.’
Siena collapsed onto the high stool at the bar. Thank goodness it was the end of the shift.
Marcus picked up one of her feet and put it on his knee, massaged the narrow arch with his meaty hands. ‘You’ve survived the week and look who it is. The tip fairy.’
Will came through from the office and handed them each a brown envelope.
‘There you go, this week’s haul.’ Siena’s envelope had £25 scrawled on the front.
‘What’s this?’ Panic set her heart fluttering. The hundred and fifty pounds for the tree had been a bonus, but twenty-five pounds for a whole week’s work? Why had she thought it would be more? Had she got her sums hopelessly wrong? She could have sworn he said so much an hour.
‘Well done. Those are your tips for the week.’
‘What? On top of my pay?’
‘Yes. Are you OK for money? I can pay you weekly to start with if you’d like.’
Had Jason been talking to him? She didn’t want anyone’s charity. Now she’d decided to go it alone. Sharing food costs with Jason would help as he’d insisted he shared the grocery bill now that she was cooking for him.
Watching him eat those horrible plastic wrapped, compartments of food had driven her to insist that it would be cheaper for both of them if she cooked. They’d fallen into a routine as she cooked risotto, ratatouille and pasta. Conscious of her meagre budget she’d stuck to simple vegetarian dishes. He would drive her home from work. She cooked. The first couple of times he’d been suspicious. On the third night he’d said, ‘I didn’t have you down as a cook. I thought that omelette was a fluke.’
The memory of the night felt like a turning point, as
if he’d stopped thinking of her as completely useless.
‘Thanks.’ Siena had replied sipping at her water.
‘Did you learn at finishing school or something?’ he’d asked flippantly taking another pull of beer.
‘No, they didn’t do anything that domestic.’
‘What?’ Jason had almost spat his beer out. ‘You’re kidding right?’
‘No, the staff cook, you supervise and choose the menus.’
‘No, I meant … you didn’t really go to finishing school. Do they even exist?’
Siena remembered sighing at his horrified tones. ‘Yes I went to one. In Switzerland. Lots of my friends went. It was useful.’ Fun too. One of the few times when she’d been away from home with people her own age.
‘So where did you learn to cook?’
‘Agnes, our cook and housekeeper. When I was younger, Maman and Harry would travel a lot and I’d stay home, so I spent a lot of time in the kitchen.’ The memory made her smile. ‘She got fed up with me being underfoot all the time. So I started peeling and chopping vegetables and gradually she let me do more. Of course it was a huge secret. Maman would have been furious if she’d known.’
‘Why?’
‘She just would.’
Jason had raised his beer bottle and toasted the air. ‘Here’s to Agnes. I for one, am very grateful, this is delicious.’
‘Earth to Siena. Come in.’
Siena shook her head and realised she was still in the pub. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’
‘I said, ‘Are you OK for money?’’
‘I’m fine. It hadn’t occurred to me that I’d actually get tips too. This is great, thank you!’
‘They’re good tips. Marcus is thrilled, aren’t you?’
Sitting next to her at the bar, Marcus nodded as he lifted his pint in toast.
‘Why?’ She didn’t understand.
‘We share tips among the staff of each shift. If you get good tips but your shift partner doesn’t, you lose out.’
‘Yeah,’ interrupted Marcus putting down his half empty glass. ‘If you have a good shift partner, it’s win-win.’ He glared at Will. ‘If you have one the boss has been sleeping with and she thinks the world owes her, you get crap tips.’
