Once Upon a Winter: A totally perfect festive romantic comedy

by Tilly Tennant

  The windscreen of her car was already frosting over, and Hannah cranked the heaters up to full blast as she started the engine. It was then that she noticed another car, just visible in the shadows at the opposite side of the lane. She squinted through the clearing mist of her windscreen. As she looked closer, she was almost certain she could see a man sitting inside it. An involuntary shiver ran over her. Was this the man George had told her about? She couldn’t see properly, but the car did look a little like a Volvo… and a lot like the one she had seen Mitchell pull up in the day he came to tell her he’d left Martine. But Mitchell had denied being parked outside her house and had, in fact, seemed deeply troubled by the idea that someone else was. What should she do? She could go and confront him, she supposed – not in an aggressive way, but just go over and see if there was a simple explanation. Perhaps she ought to get Gina for back up first? But would that in itself seem aggressive, the two of them going over together?

  After a moment of procrastination, Hannah made her decision. But as she got out of the car and began to walk across the lane, the headlights came on, the engine roared into life, and the car did a swift three-point turn. Before she was even half-way across the road, it had driven off. Hannah watched it go for a moment. Was it her approach that had made the driver take off? If so, that didn’t seem like a good thing. She had, however, seen enough to be fairly sure it wasn’t Mitchell behind the wheel. So who was it? She half considered calling Mitchell and asking him to come over, but then dismissed the idea. She wasn’t some damsel in distress. She had never relied on a man to keep her safe, and she wasn’t about to start now.

  Ten minutes later Hannah drove past the road sign that read: Chapeldown, winner of Staffordshire’s Tidiest Village Award. Trust perfect Martine to live in a perfect village. She imagined the place on a Sunday, resembling a scene from The Stepford Wives, with every garden being mown in faultless synchronisation. Even the ducks on the pond were probably groomed every day and taught to waddle in formation. Personally, living in Chapeldown was her idea of hell. She’d much rather have the unruly garden and loose paving slabs of her own quirky cottage than anything Martine Bond could afford to buy. But the new fish and chip shop, which the residents had strongly protested against to no avail, was really good and well worth the trip. Her mouth watered at the thought of them and she realised then just how hungry she was.

  It was lucky that there was only one other customer ahead of Hannah so that she was served quickly, because the smell was driving her mad. It would take all her self-control not to rip open the parcels on the way home and eat the lot. And this was the only thing on her mind as she thanked the proprietor and headed for the door… only to walk slap bang into a woman who was heading into the shop whilst talking and laughing with a man.

  ‘Oh, God… I’m so sorry…’ Hannah looked up and stared as recognition hit. Martine looked mortified to see her there, while Hannah was amazed to see her somewhere so obviously working class as a fish and chip shop.

  ‘Hannah…’ Martine said. She seemed to blush as she threw a furtive glance at the man who was with her, and then back at Hannah. Surely she wasn’t embarrassed? Or was that a look of guilt on her face? Hannah took a quick look at her companion. He was in his mid- to late-forties, dark hair threaded with steel grey, well built and the sort of face that was probably more attractive now than it had been in his youth. ‘I was just…’ Martine began. ‘We were just…’

  ‘None of my business,’ Hannah said curtly, recalling the last time they had spoken, when Martine had practically accused Hannah of being the sole reason for the failure of her marriage. But if this was what it looked like, it hadn’t taken her very long to move on from Mitchell. She wondered if he knew. Without waiting for a reply, she marched out of the shop and hurried back to her car, her head spinning with questions. The biggest one of all was: did this mean it was okay for her and Mitchell to see each other now?

  When Hannah arrived back, she could barely remember driving home at all. She’d been on autopilot while her brain dealt with the conundrums that seeing Martine and her companion had presented.

  Of all the people she could have seen in that chip shop, it had to be Martine. Hannah would previously have put money on Martine being struck down with anaphylactic shock from even the thought of a chippy, but there she was – at exactly the same time as Hannah, who didn’t really go there all that often herself. It was hard to shake the notion that some higher power was having a sick joke at Hannah’s expense, especially when coincidences like this kept happening.

  Who was the mystery man? A colleague? A friendly shoulder to cry on? The secret that Hannah was sure Martine had been hiding all along… the man who might hold the key to discovering why Mitchell had walked out of their home on Christmas Day with nothing but the clothes on his back? Hannah tried to tell herself that this explanation was wishful thinking on her part; she needed it to be true in order to quell the feelings of guilt she still had about her new relationship with Mitchell. When all was said and done, she knew she had probably influenced his decision to leave Martine, however innocently; if she wasn’t the coin, she was at least the extra shove that had sent the penny into the falls.

  As if fate hadn’t had enough of screwing with her, Mitchell’s car was parked in front of her gate when she arrived home. What now? Before she went in, however, she gave it a thorough appraisal. Was this the car she had seen earlier; the one that had driven off? Now that she looked closer, she didn’t think it was. The idea put her mind at rest, although she wasn’t quite sure enough to feel completely convinced. There was nothing else for it; she’d come straight out and ask him again tonight.

  With the sharp tang of vinegar making her mouth water, Hannah juggled with the bag of food on her arm as she tried to find her house keys. With a groan, she realised that she had left them in the house, and hammered at the door instead.

  Jess opened it a few moments later, dangling the wayward keys in front of Hannah’s face.

  ‘Did you forget something?’

  ‘I was in a hurry to get out,’ Hannah replied, without reiterating that it was Jess and Gina’s argument that had sent her scuttling out in such a rush in the first place.

  ‘You’ve got a visitor,’ Jess added as Hannah followed her in.

  ‘I noticed,’ Hannah said. She wandered through to the living room to find Mitchell and Gina chatting. Mitchell looked rather less comfortable than Gina and it was possible that he was feeling slightly awkward about what Hannah might have told her sister regarding their relationship. At Hannah’s arrival, however, his features instantly relaxed into a warm, sexy smile. ‘Hey…’

  Hannah’s heart gave a jolt, although she was more than a little mortified at the realisation that she was about to stuff her face full of chips. If only she could have been planning to eat something a bit more erotic, like asparagus or okra, or whatever phallic vegetable they sucked in steamy films. Not that it would have been likely, even if she had she been warned of his arrival; she never ate any of those things, but perhaps she could have dusted off a tin of hot dog sausages.

  ‘That smells good,’ he said, nodding at the bag.

  ‘They smell amazing,’ Gina agreed. She jumped up from her spot on the sofa and grabbed the bag from Hannah. ‘Sit down and I’ll put them on plates.’ She turned to Mitchell. ‘Can we tempt you with some?’

  Mitchell glanced at Hannah, who gave an encouraging smile. ‘They do smell pretty good, if you’re sure you have some to spare.’

  ‘No problem. Jess needs to cut down on her carbohydrate intake anyway so you can have some of hers.’

  ‘Oi!’ Jess cried, and Gina left the room laughing, the glorious smell fading as she went. Jess stomped off after her.

  ‘When did you get here?’ Hannah took a seat next to him. God, that was a mistake. It was hard not to think of him naked right now – the scent of him and the taste of his skin in her mouth. She was doing a phenomenal job of maintaining her self-control.
/>   ‘Only a few minutes before you.’

  ‘Oh. So you didn’t come round earlier… perhaps park outside thinking we weren’t in or something?’

  ‘No… why do you ask?’

  ‘It was just… well, that car was outside again earlier, but when I went over to see what they wanted, it drove off. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to deal with the possibility that it was some unknown weirdo.’

  ‘Rather than a known weirdo, you mean?’

  Hannah blushed. ‘I didn’t mean that!’

  He flashed another smile hot enough to increase global sea levels by at least three feet. ‘I know you didn’t. But I’m sorry to tell you that it wasn’t me. It is worrying me quite a lot now, though.’

  ‘It’s probably nothing.’

  ‘I want you to tell me if he turns up again and I’ll come right over.’

  ‘That might be difficult. Don’t you have work and stuff?’

  ‘Not right now – Graham is still looking after things while I get well.’

  ‘Your right hand man?’

  ‘He prefers associate director.’ Mitchell smiled. ‘Or evil henchman number one.’

  ‘I like evil henchman number one. Does that make you Blofeld?’

  ‘I doubt I’m that clever. More like Doctor Evil.’

  Hannah giggled. ‘It’s funny…’

  ‘What, me as Doctor Evil?’

  ‘No, the fact that I’ve just come from Chapeldown and when I get home, here you are on Holly Way.’

  Should she mention Martine and the mystery man? Was it a slippery can of worms that she should leave well alone?

  ‘I don’t live in Chapeldown anymore,’ he said.

  ‘You used to.’

  ‘I suppose technically I still do,’ he conceded. ‘The hotel off the motorway, as nice as it is, isn’t really a proper address.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure you can’t register to vote from there,’ Hannah agreed. ‘Have you decided what you’re going to do about your living arrangements yet? I don’t imagine it would be hard for you to find a property in your line of work.’

  He stared into the fire. ‘Not really. I suppose it all becomes very final once I start looking for a place to live and perhaps I’ve been avoiding that.’

  ‘But it is final, isn’t it?’ If it wasn’t, then what had she got herself into? What did his being there now mean? He turned to her and smiled.

  ‘Of course it is. That didn’t come out the way it was in my brain. I mean that I’ve been putting off the inevitable because it’s too painful to think about it, but I’m ready now… at least I hope I am. I know that I have to start building a new life. And I’ve been getting flashbacks too. I can’t piece them together properly yet, but what I have is making me convinced that leaving Martine was the right thing to do.’

  ‘Flashbacks?’ Hannah repeated. She stared at him. What could they be? If they implicated Martine in something, was there a link with what Hannah had seen tonight in Chapeldown? She had opened her mouth to ask when Gina and Jess reappeared with four plates of chips and a plateful of buttered bread.

  ‘Is that for chip butties?’ Mitchell asked with a smile.

  ‘You know it,’ Gina said.

  ‘I haven’t had a chip butty in years.’

  ‘You haven’t?’ Jess asked.

  ‘And you remember that you haven’t!’ Gina said with a grin. ‘Are you remembering lots more stuff now?’

  Mitchell shrugged. ‘Sometimes things come back to me unexpectedly. It must have been seeing all the bread and butter that triggered that particular memory.’

  ‘You’re doing a pretty good job of remembering where this house is too,’ Jess said in a voice loaded with sarcasm. As she sat down and pulled a plate onto her lap, she reached for a slice of bread, doubled it over and began to stuff chips into the fold.

  ‘That’s none of your business.’ Gina gave Jess a warning look.

  ‘Of course it isn’t,’ Jess replied through a mouthful of food. ‘Shall I go out of the room for a while so that the grownups can keep me in the dark about something else?’

  Mitchell glanced between the two of them before throwing Hannah a questioning look.

  ‘Mother-daughter domestics are such fun,’ Hannah told him with a wry smile. ‘That’s one thing I don’t miss by not having kids.’

  ‘I wouldn’t know either,’ Mitchell said. ‘Martine and I, we…’ He stopped, his fork suspended in mid-air as he stared into space.

  ‘Mitchell?’ Hannah asked.

  He turned to her but his eyes were vacant.

  ‘Mitchell?’ Hannah repeated.

  His fork clattered onto the plate and he bolted for the door.

  ‘What the hell…’ Gina began, but Hannah dropped her fork too. Putting her plate to one side she leapt up after him.

  In the garden, he was bent over Hannah’s gate, gripping the wood as he pulled in great lungfuls of air.

  ‘You’re shivering,’ Hannah said, a gentle hand on his arm. ‘Come inside and tell me what’s wrong.’

  ‘I remember,’ he said in a low voice, his gaze still on the ground. ‘I remember it all.’

  Hannah felt her heart thump inside her chest. She wanted to grab hold of the gate and hyperventilate too. She could feel her world falling away from her. He remembered… did that mean he would remember the life he was supposed to have – with Martine? Would he realise that Hannah was never meant to be part of the plan?

  ‘What do you remember?’ she asked.

  ‘I… I don’t know. It can’t be right.’

  Hannah was silent as she waited for more. The joints and tendons of his hands stood proud with the effort of gripping the gate harder still. She was mesmerised. Afterwards, that was the abiding image of the scene, weird as it was, and whenever she thought of that moment, she thought of Mitchell’s hands displaying every emotion that was raging through his head. After a few moments, he took a deep breath and stood slowly to face her.

  ‘It can’t be right… she wouldn’t do that to me…’

  ‘What?’ Hannah whispered.

  Mitchell shook his head. ‘No… she wouldn’t… I have to talk to her…’

  Hannah laid a hand on his arm, but she pulled it away at the reaction on his face. ‘You should come inside,’ she said less certainly, ‘you need to calm down before you go anywhere. Please come and talk to me first.’

  ‘I have to talk to Martine… I have to know that I’m mistaken…’

  Hannah chewed her lip. In his current state, she’d bet that Martine could tell him anything and he’d believe it because he obviously needed to believe anything except what his new memory was telling him – whatever that was. Should she offer to go with him? No, that would only make things worse.

  ‘Do you have to go now?’ she asked.

  He gave a brief nod, and then turned to go back into the house for his coat. Hannah followed miserably. No matter how much she tried to persuade herself that it was a minor hiccup in their relationship, she couldn’t help feeling it was the death knell. Surely, now that he knew what the problem in his marriage was, they would work to fix it? Now he could remember everything, he would remember that he loved her. But then Hannah had another thought: what about the man who was with Martine tonight? Would he have some bearing on it all? What if he was still there and Mitchell lost his temper? The way he was acting right now she thought that anything could happen. Should she warn him? But if it was all perfectly innocent then she’d be interfering in something that was none of her business.

  Gina and Jess watched open-mouthed as he retrieved his coat and car keys from the arm of the sofa. It was clear that the expression on his face brooked no further discussion. He turned to Hannah.

  ‘I’m sorry…’ he said, and it was all she could do not to burst into tears. He was sorry. He was sorry because he knew that it was the end for them and because he should never have started it in the first place. That’s why he was sorry, wasn’t it?

  She wanted to ask if ther
e was anything she could do to help, what it was he had remembered and whether he would call – a million questions that clamoured inside her head. But she didn’t ask any of these things, only stared after him as he headed for the door and out into the night.

  Hannah checked her phone for the fourth time that hour. Gina plonked a cup of tea in front of her.

  ‘Jess has gone to bed, though I don’t doubt she’ll have some complaint about wearing your pyjamas and having to get up at the crack of dawn for the train.’

  Hannah forced a smile. ‘She wasn’t exactly in the best of moods to begin with and I’ve made it worse… sorry about that.’

  Gina waved away the apology. ‘There was no way I was going home and leaving you alone tonight.’

  ‘I’d have been alright. It’s not like we’d been together a long time or anything, was it?’

  Gina cocked an eyebrow and Hannah couldn’t help but laugh. ‘We Meadows girls always did give our hearts too easily,’ she said with a wry smile.

  ‘We can blame our parents for that. We had to get love from somewhere and it certainly wasn’t coming from either of them.’

  ‘It’s a miracle we’ve turned out so well-rounded.’

  It was Hannah’s turn to cock a disbelieving brow. ‘Look at the state of us right now!’

  ‘I can’t argue with that,’ Gina laughed. She paused. ‘Ross messaged me earlier. I told him I was still on Holly Way with you.’

  ‘Do you want to see him?’ Hannah smiled. ‘I’ll be alright if you do.’

  Gina shook her head. ‘It’s late. He’s probably in bed now ready for his sheep shearing or whatever he does at stupid o’clock in the morning.’

  ‘Text him,’ Hannah insisted. ‘I’m sure he’d put his bedtime off for an hour with you.’