by Heidi Swain
I bit my lip to stop myself from telling him I’d forgotten to pack my Fitbit and realised I wasn’t the only one capable of making assumptions. The truth was, I did used to run before my shift at the hotel, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of telling him that, was I? The next thing I knew, he’d be quashing my small-town lad theory.
‘Well,’ I said instead. ‘I’m not at work, am I? I’m on holiday and as such, fancied a lie-in for a change.’
‘Fair enough,’ he said, looking back up at whatever it was he was up the ladder doing. ‘I’ll be finished here soon. Perhaps you’ll be able to nod off again.’
I didn’t actually want to, given that I’d just had my first full night sleep in months.
‘I doubt it,’ I said, ‘anyway, you still haven’t told me what it is that you’re doing.’
‘Getting an eyeful of your figure by the looks of it,’ snapped a cross voice behind me. ‘Put some clothes on for pity’s sake, Hattie, before you catch your death.’
I hastily snatched Dolly’s borrowed dressing gown off the bed and thrust my arms into it as Beamish chortled. I had quite forgotten that I was still in my scanty nightwear and it was so cold. If Beamish had noticed he hadn’t let on, but that didn’t stop my cheeks glowing as I fumbled to tie the belt.
‘And you’ve let the cat up here,’ Dolly tutted disapprovingly. ‘I hadn’t made up my mind about whether or not to let her on the beds yet.’
I opened my mouth to protest but didn’t get the chance.
‘Oh honestly, Hattie,’ said Beamish.
‘Still,’ said Dolly, handing me a mug of tea from the tray she’d carried up before passing one out of the window to Beamish, ‘at least we know you aren’t really allergic. If she’s been up here with you all night you would be sneezing and itching all over the place by now.’
‘I didn’t notice any scratch marks.’ Beamish unhelpfully put in, earning himself a stern look from my friend and a head shake from me.
‘Have you nearly finished up here?’ Dolly asked him.
‘Almost,’ he answered. ‘By the time you’ve made me that bacon butty you promised I’ll be ready to set up the Santa and reindeer.’
‘You still haven’t told me what you’re doing,’ I reminded him yet again.
I was beginning to feel as if I was the star turn in some silly bedroom farce.
‘He’s putting up my Christmas lights,’ said Dolly. ‘It’s the Wynbridge switch-on tonight, surely you haven’t forgotten?’
‘No,’ I said, thinking how very resourceful Beamish was for a taxi driver, ‘of course not. I just didn’t realise that your cottage was part of the attractions, Dolly.’
‘Oh, we’ve all signed up to do it now,’ she said, taking back the mug Beamish had already emptied. ‘Well, lots of us have anyway. This is our second year. It’s all part of the festive fun.’
Beamish went back to his tapping.
‘I’ll come and give you a hand with the breakfast,’ I said to Dolly. ‘I’ll just get dressed first.’
‘Well make sure you close the curtains,’ she said pointedly. ‘It was quite a shock coming in here and finding the pair of you in such a compromising position.’
She disappeared back through the door and Beamish began to laugh again.
‘Excuse me,’ I said, carefully closing the window and drawing the curtains again.
I could still hear him chuckling so decided to get dressed in the bathroom.
After a hearty breakfast which included eggs, tomatoes and mushrooms as well as bacon and doorsteps of thickly buttered bread, Beamish went back to dealing with Dolly’s exterior illuminations and I helped clear up. He was obviously much more than just a rugby-playing taxi driver, but I didn’t want to ask about his other skills. I was too embarrassed about where I had chosen to sit during the journey from Peterborough to Wynbridge and had no intention of drawing attention to my faux pas. Perhaps I shouldn’t make assumptions or jump to any more conclusions while staying under Dolly’s cosy roof?
‘Just exactly how many lights are you planning to have out there, Dolly?’ I asked as I spotted Beamish unloading yet more boxes from his truck. ‘I think you might need to rein your friend’s enthusiasm in a bit.’
‘Plenty,’ she said, joining me at the window as he began to set out a sleigh and eight reindeer on the front lawn. ‘And don’t worry, these are all mine. They’re a brand-new addition to the display. Beamish has been storing them at his place as he has the room.’
‘Aren’t you worried that they’ll make the cottage look tacky?’
Dolly looked up at me, her eyes wide.
‘What I mean is,’ I faltered, ‘wouldn’t a simple wreath on the door and some warm white lights around the windows be a little more in keeping?’
‘With what?’
Clearly, I wasn’t explaining what I meant particularly well and I had upset her, but that hadn’t been my intention.
‘I just meant with the style of the cottage,’ I rushed on, trying to make amends.
‘If you’re suggesting my decorations are Christmas tat, Hattie—’
‘No,’ I interrupted, ‘no, of course not.’
‘Then you’re probably right,’ she laughed, ‘but the children love them and for that matter, so do I. The town produces a little map of the most illuminated streets now and my cottage is one of the furthest. Lots of families come to enjoy them, so where’s the harm?’
‘There is none,’ I said, shaking my head and feeling suitably chastened.
‘I can remember you once telling me that your father went in for something similar.’
That was true, or it had been. Obviously, I didn’t know how he and Mum decided to decorate now, but Dad had always favoured a slightly over the top attitude when it came to Christmas. It had driven Jonathan to distraction the one and only December we had visited together before I snipped that thread. Come to think of it, lots of things my parents liked hadn’t met with my partner’s approval.
‘And when the Luccas owned the hotel you were always first in the loft to bring the boxes of decorations down, weren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ I said, smiling as I remembered. ‘I suppose I was.’
‘You used to work through your days off to help put them up. What happened to that girl, Hattie? Where’s she disappeared to?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, my smile faltering as Beamish gave us a thumbs up and Dolly waved back. ‘I haven’t seen her for a while.’
The hotel still had Christmas decorations, but they came and went with a professional designer and were stylishly coordinated and confined to a corner of the reception and dining room. It was all very chic, not unlike my festive holiday in the sun with Jonathan. There was certainly no room or allowance for the so-called ‘tacky Christmas tat’ that Dolly favoured.
‘Well,’ she said, rubbing my arm, ‘I’m sure we’re going to find her in the next few weeks, whether she wants to stay hidden or not.’
*
The little town of Wynbridge was heaving that evening and Beamish was lucky to find a parking space. He had insisted on driving Dolly and me in and had made a great show of opening the back door of the truck, telling Dolly that I preferred not to sit in the front. I smiled sweetly and climbed in knowing that if I tried to explain then I’d never hear the last of it, from either of them.
‘Don’t feel obliged to stick with me, Hattie dear,’ Dolly said as we made our way amongst the crowd towards the market which had stayed open and looked to have a few extra festive stalls. ‘I’ve promised to help on the WI stand, so you can go off and explore if you like.’
‘I might in a while,’ I told her. I felt a bit out of place among the throng who all seemed to know one another and met with hugs and smiles. ‘I’ll see how I feel if that’s all right.’
‘Of course,’ said Dolly, waving to a woman who I guessed was calling her name. It was a job to hear anything above the rousing chorus of the Salvation Army band. ‘Whatever you like.’
‘Here you are, Dolly!’ said the woman, handing her an apron the second we reached her. ‘We were hoping you would make it. How are you feeling?’
‘I’m fine,’ said Dolly dismissively. ‘It was just a cold and I’m over it now. Hattie, this is Catherine Connelly. She owns the country pile, Wynthorpe Hall and I suppose she’s the closest to gentry the town has got.’
‘Oh Dolly,’ tutted Catherine, ‘you are naughty. I’m pleased to meet you, Hattie. Dolly tells me you’re going to be spending the run-up to Christmas with her before you move abroad.’
I flushed as I remembered my promise to Jonathan that I would try and cut my visit short and how I had glossed over his mention of it during our telephone conversation the evening before. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get away with doing that for much longer and felt my face redden to what must have been a deep shade of crimson.
‘Hopefully,’ I said, meaning my visit rather than my move. The move was definitely happening.
Dolly looked at me quizzically but didn’t comment.
‘Well, we have plenty going on at the hall during the next few weeks,’ said Catherine. ‘It would be lovely if you could come along. We’re expanding our Winter Wonderland this year and of course there are the sleigh rides around the grounds.’
‘Perhaps,’ I said, cutting her off before she got carried away. ‘I don’t much go in for Christmas, I’m afraid.’
‘Don’t go in for Christmas!’ cried a voice behind me. ‘Whatever next!’
‘Here you are, Hattie,’ said Dolly, ‘here’s a familiar face.’
I turned around and found myself in the midst of a hug from a woman with thick dark curls and the prettiest green eyes.
‘Rose,’ I said, hugging her back. ‘How lovely to see you. How are you?’
Rose Gardner, was one of the teachers at the school where Dolly worked and I myself had worked with her too when I had volunteered. She was always brimming with bubbly charm, very much a glass half-full kind of woman.
‘I’m very well,’ she said, looking me up and down, ‘but not as well as you it seems. How fantastic do you look? But then with your height and slender frame, you always did put us little country dumplings to shame.’
‘I don’t think so,’ I said, feeling another blush blooming.
I had hated my height when I was growing up and sometimes still felt that it wore me rather than the other way around.
‘Dolly tells me you’re here for the holidays,’ said Rose, linking arms, which wasn’t easy given our height difference, before moving us away from the stall. ‘I’ll bring her back in a bit, Dolly!’ she called over her shoulder.
‘Take your time!’ Dolly called back.
I glanced over and saw she was already in the thick of things, handing out mince pies and gingerbread biscuits as if they were going out of fashion.
‘So,’ said Rose, once she had treated us both to a cup of fragrant mulled wine. ‘What are your plans? I know Dolly said you’re moving abroad in the new year, but what are you going to be doing while you’re here?’
‘Nothing in particular,’ I told her, blowing into my cup.
I wondered if Dolly had said that I was moving with Jonathan when she’d been telling everyone about my imminent move. They all knew my last visit to the town had been prompted by man trouble but I still didn’t know how Dolly had explained my swifter than planned departure. I would have to ask her about that.
‘I’m here for Dolly really,’ I went on. ‘I want to spend as much time with her as I can before I go.’
‘In that case,’ Rose rushed on, her eyes twinkling, ‘you should definitely sign up to volunteer at the school again.’
‘Oh . . .’ I said, shaking my head, all thoughts of Jonathan suddenly forgotten. ‘I don’t think . . .’
‘No, I mean it,’ she interrupted. ‘That way you could spend far more time with Dolly and I can guarantee that by the time you go, you’ll be feeling completely different about Christmas.’
She said that as if it was a good thing.
‘I couldn’t believe it back there when you said you didn’t go in for it. What on earth were you thinking? I don’t know where your festive spirit has slunk off to Hattie, but just one week working with our excited lot and you’d be as mad keen on Christmas again as the rest of us!’
She was almost bouncing up and down at the thought.
‘Well,’ I said feebly, ‘I really don’t know.’
‘We have so much coming up,’ she went dreamily on, ‘what with the fair and the carol concert and the play. We’re really swamped. An extra pair of hands would be a godsend right now.’
‘But what about health and safety and all the checks?’ I gabbled, giving voice to the first excuse I could come up with. ‘By the time all the relevant paperwork comes back it would be the end of term. Wouldn’t it?’ I hopefully added.
I wasn’t sure why I was so set against the idea, but my head was telling me it was something I should avoid doing at all costs.
‘Not at all,’ said Rose, shaking her head. ‘There’s a check we can apply for which comes back almost straight away and besides, you renewed your DBS the last time you were going to volunteer with us, didn’t you? I know your boss at the hotel was desperately under-staffed and you had to cut your visit short, but the paperwork had been sent off by then and it came back almost as soon as you’d gone back to work.’
So that was the line Dolly had taken – I had arrived because of man trouble, but rather than tell everyone I had gone again because Jonathan and I had worked things out, she’d said I’d left to go back to the hotel. I didn’t want to think too deeply about why she had done that and I certainly wouldn’t be asking her. Clearly, Jonathan’s flat key, honeyed words and heartfelt promises at the time had soothed me, but not my friend.
‘Oh yes,’ I swallowed, ‘of course. I seem to remember Dolly did mention it.’
‘Well there you are then! I’m sure we’ll still have it all on file,’ Rose rushed on, ‘so there’s really nothing stopping you, is there?’
Our conversation was interrupted by a sudden fanfare at the far end of the square in front of the towering tree. It was time for the lights to go on.
‘Promise me you’ll at least think about it,’ said Rose as the first of the celebratory fireworks rocketed into the air and the crowd began to cheer.
I looked around at the happy faces, flushed with excitement and caught sight of Beamish laughing with a group of friends right next to the platform where the magic switch-on was going to happen. He waved when he spotted me, a look of pure joy lighting up his bruised features. I couldn’t help but smile and wave back.
‘I’ll think about it,’ I told Rose, ‘but I’m not making any promises.’
Chapter 5
When I woke the next morning, with Tiddles thankfully settled further down the bed, I could feel the air was cooler than the morning before and there was no light peeping around the curtains. I could hear Dolly moving around in the kitchen and I gratefully wrapped myself in her warm dressing gown before heading down.
I had laid awake the night before, mulling over what Rose had said about Dolly’s explanation of why I had left Wynbridge as hurriedly as I’d arrived the last time I had been in town and was still convinced that it would be best not to ask her about it. It was well over a year ago now, and everything had turned out fine, so why go fishing for a catch I didn’t want? I was certain Dolly had had her reasons for not telling the truth; I just wasn’t sure I would benefit from knowing what they were.
‘Good morning,’ said Dolly, quickly taking something off the table when she heard me on the stairs. ‘Tea? I thought we might try this blend from the hamper.’
‘Yes, please.’ I said, with a little shiver. ‘It’ll warm me up.’
‘There’s a hard frost this morning,’ she said. ‘The path was quite slippery when I went out to dress the bird table.’
It was on the tip of my tongue to remind her to be careful when s
he went out, in case she fell, but I didn’t.
‘Is Tiddles up there by any chance?’ she asked, with a nod to the stairs.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘She is. Do you want me to turf her off the bed?’
‘No, there’s no point now she’s got the taste for it. I always knew it was only a matter of time before she negotiated the stairs and as they’re open plan she’d only go straight back up again if we carried her down.’
‘She isn’t doing any harm and she doesn’t take up much room.’
Dolly looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
‘In that case,’ she said, ‘we’ll definitely leave her. Now, come and sit down. I have a present for you.’
‘A present,’ I laughed. ‘It’s a bit early in the month, isn’t it? Even for you.’
I did as I was told, relieved that I hadn’t come down all guns blazing and demanding an explanation, but not because I was being given a gift. Dolly handed me an A4 envelope.
‘Open it then,’ she encouraged.
Inside was an advent calendar.
Oh, Dolly!’ I gasped. ‘It’s lovely.’
‘You can’t start December without a calendar,’ she said. ‘And I thought the picture on that one was rather pretty.’
The intricately painted houses had a dusting of snow on their roofs and glitter-covered trees in the windows. Santa, resplendent in his shiny red sleigh, was flying across the star-studded sky behind his eight purposeful reindeer, a packed sack of toys at his side.
‘Where on earth did you find it?’ I asked, examining the old-fashioned details.
It was years since I’d had an advent calendar and I hadn’t even realised they made ones like this anymore. Some of the girls I had worked with at the hotel had gone in for the expensive beauty variety last year and when I was growing up, I had always had a Cadbury chocolate one, but this vintage-looking treasure was a first of its kind for me.
‘In town,’ said Dolly. ‘A couple of the shops still stock this sort so I picked up one for you and one for Beamish.’
