‘Sorry, Roxy, did I startle you?’
‘No, it’s fine. You look a bit better,’ I say truthfully, as my racing heart rate slowly subsides.
She nods. ‘I think I’m getting there. Thanks for the tea, by the way.’ She surveys the results of my efforts with a delighted smile. ‘Wow, well done, you!’
‘Thank you. I enjoyed doing it.’ I’m actually more surprised than Poppy that my baking turned out okay. Not that I’m about to admit this to her.
She frowns. ‘Aren’t you too warm in here with the oven blasting all the time?’ Poppy herself is wearing just a short-sleeved T-shirt with her pyjama bottoms. ‘Take your cardy off and I’ll hang it on the peg over here.’
She puts her hands up as if to start removing it for me, and in a panic, I twist away.
She stares at me in surprise.
Feeling stupid, I try to make a joke of it. ‘Sorry, it’s just I’m a bit of a wuss. I tend to feel the cold. Even when it’s warm,’ I add, confusing even myself.
My heart is racing. Stripping off my top layer to reveal the sleeveless T-shirt beneath would mean I’d have to talk about the accident – and that’s something I never, ever do. Just the thought of revisiting the horror of that night is enough to make me feel nauseous and light-headed. The nightmares are bad enough …
‘Oh. Okay.’ Poppy shrugs lightly. ‘By the way, Jed’s decided to take everyone out for dinner tonight, so once you’ve iced the gingerbread Santas and made a few more mince pies, we can just kick back and relax.’
‘Don’t you want to join them for dinner?’ I ask, as my heart rate gradually returns to normal.
She pats her stomach and grimaces. ‘I’m not sure I can face food quite yet.’
For the rest of the afternoon, Poppy rests in her room and I work as quickly as I can to finish tomorrow’s order. I’m obviously much slower than Poppy but I know that, as long as I keep going, I’ll get there. Even if I’m still making mince pies at midnight!
The radio is tuned to a station specialising in music from the nineties and every now and then an old classic comes on that has me singing along as I work away, icing faces onto Santas, rolling pastry and sliding gleaming baking trays in and out of the oven. As darkness falls beyond the large picture windows of the cosy, lamplit kitchen, and the glorious scent of ginger and warm golden syrup fills the room, I’m feeling a little calmer after my encounter with Jackson.
They say baking is good therapy and I can vouch for that myself now. When you’re focusing on measuring out ingredients, stirring, folding and blending them carefully, tasting as you go and breathing in the scrumptious aroma of home baking, all thoughts and stresses seem to float from your mind. For that small window of time, all that matters is getting as perfect a result as you can. And it’s so satisfying when the goodies emerge from the oven, warm and golden – and looking surprisingly edible.
Soon after seven, as I’m still icing my small army of gingerbread Santas, Jed pops his head round the door and asks me if it would be easier for me if I moved into the cabin for the Christmas period. He leaves me to think about it and I quickly realise that it makes sense. If we’re going to be super busy baking Sylvia’s huge order every day, it would be so much better if I wasn’t having to waste precious time driving home in the evening and back the next day. If I’m here in the morning, we can just get started straight away.
Half an hour later, Jed leaves to take Jackson, Sophie and Alex out for dinner. I hear his murmured exchange with Poppy in the hallway as he goes, then she appears in the kitchen and asks me if I’ve decided to stay.
‘Are you sure there’s room for me?’
She nods. ‘Even after Jed’s Uncle Bob and Gloria arrive with Ruby the day after tomorrow, there’ll still be one spare bedroom. We thought Ruby’s brother, Tom, would be coming but he’s going to his girlfriend’s for Christmas instead.’
‘Who’s Ruby?’
‘Oh, she’s lovely. She’s Gloria’s seventeen-year-old daughter. A bit boisterous but great fun. Uncle Bob’s wife died but he started seeing Gloria a few years ago. I like her a lot. She’s a real character.’
‘Who else is coming for Christmas?’
‘Ryan and Clemmy are due here tomorrow morning.’
I screw up my eyes, thinking. ‘And Ryan is Jed’s brother?’
Poppy nods. ‘And Clemmy’s his girlfriend. She’s heavenly – you’ll like her. She’s not a bit like Sophie.’ She shakes her head. ‘I don’t know what Jack sees in that girl.’
You and me both, I think to myself. Apart from the fact that she looks like a model.
‘So will you stay?’ Poppy looks at me expectantly.
‘Well, if you’re sure. I suppose it makes sense.’
My stomach feels uneasy at the thought. It might make practical sense but living here will make it a hundred times more difficult to avoid Jackson!
‘Good. That’s sorted, then.’ Poppy looks pleased. ‘I can lend you some stuff for tonight and you can nip back home and pack a bag tomorrow.’ She tries to suppress a yawn. ‘Sorry, I’m shattered, yet I’ve done nothing all day. Once you’ve finished here, I’m going to show you your room, then I’m going to open a bottle of wine for you and make myself a lime and soda.’ She grimaces. ‘Good for a tummy that’s still slightly delicate. Then we’re going to crash out in front of the log fire!’
Chapter 9
True to her word, an hour later, we’re lounging on a huge, squashy sofa by the roaring log fire in the stylish living room, and I’m hugging an enormous, balloon-shaped glass that seems to have barely anything in it, but actually contains almost half a bottle of wine. I know this because I watched Poppy pour it out.
‘I bet you decorated this room,’ I say, glancing at the fairy lights winking along the mantelpiece and the glorious Christmas tree, decked with shiny red and gold baubles and cute tartan bows.
She grins. ‘Got it in one. Jed’s useless at stuff like that. Cheers!’ she says, leaning over and clinking my glass. ‘Thanks again for agreeing to come and work for me. You saved my bacon!’
I take a sip of the white wine. It tastes completely delicious – like honeyed gooseberries. ‘It’s a pleasure.’
And I really mean it. Poppy is so easy to get along with and I’m discovering baking skills I never knew I had. If only Jackson wasn’t around, making me jumpy all the time …
‘Did you never want to do anything else, Roxy? Apart from working at the biscuit factory?’ Poppy asks with a curious frown.
A feeling of dread creeps over me. Conversations about my choice of job can sometimes lead to tricky questions that I don’t want to answer. And I like Poppy too much to want to lie to her. So I shrug and say airily, ‘I liked working at the factory. It was a good, steady job – until I was made redundant.’
She nods thoughtfully, but I can tell she’s not fooled by my blasé attitude. ‘So did you start there straight from school, then?’
‘Er, not quite.’ I swallow hard. We’re straying into wildly uncomfortable territory here. ‘I had a few – um – problems which delayed everything. But then I got the job at the factory so everything worked out fine in the end.’ I paste on a bright smile. ‘So you’ve been going out with Jed for two years?’
Her eyes go all dreamy and I breathe a sigh of relief that we’re off the subject of me. ‘Yes. The happiest time of my life. I knew as soon as I met him that he was a really solid bloke – kind, thoughtful, funny.’
‘And rather good-looking.’
‘There is that, yes.’ She grins and leans her head back against the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. ‘Jed’s lovely. I suppose he’s my ideal man, really. We make each other laugh.’ She swallows and her smile fades. ‘But nothing ever works out the way you think it will.’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask.
‘Oh, just that we seem to be on completely different pages. I’d like to be galloping along to the happy-ever-after, but Jed is still messing about in chapter one. And that’s fine, o
f course. Everyone’s different. But after two happy years together, you’d think – I don’t know …’ She shrugs.
‘That there’d be some talk of the future?’ I suggest.
She turns her head towards me. ‘Exactly.’
‘But there isn’t?’
‘Not a whisper. He neatly deviates from the topic every time I touch on it, and I still don’t feel I can leave any stuff at his house.’
‘What – not even a toothbrush?’
‘Well, a toothbrush. But nothing else. These few weeks that I’m staying here are purely for convenience. Even Jed can’t object to that when I’m working out of his kitchen!’
‘Perhaps he’s just nervous of the whole commitment thing. It doesn’t mean he’s not still crazy about you.’
‘I suppose.’ She sighs heavily. Then she smiles. ‘So what about you, Roxy? Got a lovely man in your life?’
‘Oh, well, er … not at the moment.’ I feel my face go from normal to pillar-box red in a matter of seconds.
Poppy smiles. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Well …’ Should I tell her about Jack?
‘Hey, listen, I don’t mean to pry,’ she says quickly.
‘No, it’s fine. It’s just – well, it’s all a little bit awkward. You see, my ex is actually here.’
Her eyes open wide in astonishment. ‘Here? Oh God, do you mean Alex? He’s such a lovely guy. I knew he and his long-term fiancée had called off their engagement, which was why he decided to come here for Christmas. But I didn’t realise it was you!’
‘No, no, not Alex. It’s – erm – Jackson.’
‘Jackson?’ She looks puzzled. ‘Oh, Jack! Wow, you and Jack were an item?’
Nodding, I take a large gulp of wine. Unfortunately, I manage to breathe in simultaneously, the liquid goes down the wrong way and I start coughing furiously.
Poppy starts slapping me on the back until eventually my spluttering calms down enough to talk. ‘It was really embarrassing the way it ended. On live TV.’
‘Live TV?’ Poppy looks horrified. ‘What on earth happened, Roxy?’
So I tell her the story, which I haven’t told anyone except Flo. And she nods and shows all the emotions – intrigue, amazement, shock – that I would expect. Except that she doesn’t laugh, for which I’m really grateful. Because, so far, that’s been the response of everyone who’s recognised me as ‘that poor girl off the telly’.
Those encounters made me feel wretched and stupid. But after I’ve unloaded it on Poppy, I actually feel better about the whole thing. I can see the funny side myself, instead of just feeling like the butt of the joke.
‘Crikey, that was so brave of you,’ she murmurs. ‘I know I could never propose on live TV. No man’s worth endangering your pride! Not even Jed.’
I grin. ‘It wasn’t brave, it was stupid. And alcohol played a massive part.’
‘Well, maybe in retrospect it was a bit rash,’ she agrees. ‘But sometimes in life you have to take a risk. And you did! You and Jack, eh?’ She shakes her head. ‘So are you over him now?’
‘Oh, yes.’ My face is already so hot, I could probably fry eggs on it. So the lie sneaks through.
Poppy keeps shaking her head. ‘What on earth did you think when you walked in and saw him at the dining table?’
‘I nearly fainted. My life flashed before me and—’
‘You dropped the trifle! Oh my God, I thought you were just a bit nervous!’
There’s a ring at the door. Poppy frowns. ‘They can’t be back already.’
I listen to her socked feet padding along the hallway to the front door. Then she’s shrieking a greeting and welcoming some people inside – a man and a woman by the sounds of it.
My heart sinks a little. I’ve been having such a lovely time chatting to Poppy. Now I’ll have to make polite chit-chat with a couple of people I’ve never met before. I decide I’ll retreat to my bedroom as soon as I decently can and leave them to talk. That way, I can also avoid having to see Jackson and Sophie when they return. I can say I’m really tired after my early start, which is absolutely true …
The arrivals are Jed’s brother, Ryan, and his girlfriend, Clemmy. They were supposed to be getting here tomorrow but decided to pitch up early for some reason. As soon as Clemmy bustles in, her scarlet coat flapping open around her ample curves, her heart-shaped face wreathed in smiles, I find myself relaxing. When Poppy introduces us, Clemmy heads straight across the room towards me, tripping over a coffee table leg but managing to stay upright.
‘Careful,’ says Poppy with a giggle.
‘Oops! What am I like?’ laughs Clemmy, pushing back her abundant reddish-brown locks.
‘The world’s most accident-prone woman?’ grins Ryan. I can tell from his slightly goofy expression that he adores her.
‘Delighted to meet you, Roxy,’ she says, enveloping me in a big, perfumed hug. ‘Poppy tells me you’ve saved her life with your wonderful mince pies!’
I smile at her. ‘Well, I wouldn’t go that far.’
‘I would,’ says Poppy firmly.
‘Well, I can’t wait to try them!’ beams Clemmy.
Poppy opens another bottle of wine and brings through a plate of the mince pies in question. Clemmy promptly tries one and says it’s so delicious, she absolutely has to go back for seconds.
I laugh, feeling absurdly pleased. ‘They are quite small. I think you need at least two to really appreciate them!’
Clemmy nods. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’
I sit and listen to Poppy and Clemmy chattering nineteen to the dozen about their plans for Christmas, while Ryan injects a good-humoured comment every now and again, when he can actually get a word in edgeways.
Ryan’s quite different to Jed in appearance. While Jed is tall with thick, dark chestnut hair, Ryan is shorter with close-cropped blond hair and more of a rugby player’s build. Their dry sense of humour is the same, though.
At one point, the focus turns to me, and whether my family mind that I’m working at Christmas, and I explain that Mum and Dad have decided to go somewhere warm for a change this year.
Then I hear a key in the lock and my heart lurches into my throat. I’ve left it too late to escape to my room!
In the commotion that follows, with everyone greeting each other, I fix on a smile and start making my way towards the stairs. Hoping to avoid announcing to all and sundry that I’m off to bed, I murmur this to Poppy and she smiles and tells me to sleep well.
‘See you in the morning, Roxy,’ she calls, as I’m half way up the stairs.
I turn to reply but, instead of meeting Poppy’s gaze, it’s Jackson’s face I immediately zero in on. Sophie is clutching onto his arm and saying something laughingly into his ear. But Jackson is staring up at me with a look of such open affection in his eyes that my heart lurches. For a second, it feels just like old times, when we were together.
Then someone laughs and I’m snapped back to reality.
Pulling myself together, I smile weakly at Poppy. ‘Yes. See you then. I’ll be up nice and early to get started.’
Turning, I manage to make it up the rest of the stairs without stumbling, despite the suspicion that Jackson’s eyes are following me all the way …
Chapter 10
The room Poppy has given me is lovely. It’s all white walls, soft cream carpet and pale grey shabby chic – from the king-size bed frame and headboard to the free-standing wardrobe and chest of drawers.
After taking a quick shower in the en suite, I put on the pretty pink pyjama set Poppy has laid out on the bed for me, smiling at the way the sleeves and the bottoms are a little too short for my long limbs. Then I dive into the comforting folds of the crisp white bed linen.
Propping up the pillows, I relax back and glance around the room. It’s elegant and yet it feels cosy, too – just like the rest of the Log Fire Cabin – but I can’t help wondering if I’ve made a big mistake, agreeing to stay here over the Christmas period. When Jackson is s
taying here, too …
Breathing deeply in an effort to calm myself down, I detect the subtle aroma of lavender and when I glance at the bedside cabinet, I see there’s a scented candle on there in a crystal holder, sitting beside a small stack of The People’s Friend. I smile, thinking of Sophie’s disgust, and imagining Poppy’s amusement as she placed them there for me.
Lavender is credited with magical sleep-inducing properties. But the benefits seem to be bypassing me completely. It’s long after midnight before I finally feel myself drifting off …
I’m trapped in a room, staring at nothing but inky-black darkness. The air is thick and acrid and I’m fighting to breathe.
Even as I fumble blindly for the door, finally locating the cold metal handle, I know it will be locked. I can hear someone moving around on the other side and my heart leaps in hope. But when I try to shout for help, no sound emerges.
Panic surges like a scream in my ears.
It feels as if a pillow is being pressed against my face, suffocating me. I try to claw at it but, with a sickening shock, I realise there’s nothing there. My heart crashes against my ribcage as the terrifying truth dawns.
I’m going to die …
I hear music. Faint at first, it grows louder – a monotonous jingle playing over and over again. The pitch-black darkness gives way to grey shapes – shapes I begin to recognise. And I realise the sound I’m hearing is the morning alarm on my phone.
Shivering, I emerge from the nightmare, drawing in great gulps of air and clutching my throat. Warm tears slide into my hair as I stare up at the bedroom ceiling, waiting for my heart rate to return to normal.
After a while, I glance at the clock and realise I need to get up. But my limbs feel heavy as I force myself out of bed and head for the shower. It always takes a while to feel normal again after one of these horrible, recurring nightmares …
After showering and dressing, I go in search of Poppy.
She’s not in the kitchen, so I climb the stairs to her room, noticing on my way that it’s started to snow. Large flakes are drifting down past the window and, when I look out, I see it’s starting to settle prettily on the branches of the fir trees. Staring at the Christmas card view from the half-way landing window, I suddenly spot Poppy outside.
Second Chances at the Log Fire Cabin Page 7
