Chapter 3
It was the week before Christmas and snowflakes were tumbling like fat feathers from a pale sky as the National Express coach from London made its scheduled stop in Cirencester.
Mimi, recalling her last visit to the Cotswolds, silently congratulated herself on being much better equipped this time. She was wrapped up in warm clothes and her case had wheels. Which was just as well really, seeing as it was a full-sized one crammed with Christmas presents.
Plus, this time she’d checked beforehand and discovered there was a taxi rank – an actual rank! – in Cirencester’s central Market Place.
But first some shopping needed to be done. There were still a couple more gifts she wanted to pick up, and Cirencester was looking both festive and gorgeous, with Christmas lights strung everywhere around trees and across the narrow streets. The shop windows were lit up as well, many of them decorated with fake snow that was now being rapidly overtaken by the real thing.
Mimi tipped back her head and closed her eyes, listening to the dulcet tones of Slade booming from a passing car and revelling in the sensation of the tiny ice-cold kisses of the snowflakes as they landed on her upturned face . . .
‘Oi, shift,’ ordered an irritable man behind her. ‘You’re blocking the pavement.’
And a very merry Christmas to you too.
An hour later, the suitcase was becoming a bit of a liability. The shops and narrow pavements were crowded, the snow was coming down faster than ever and Mimi’s empty stomach was rumbling like a cement mixer. Finding a pretty café on Black Jack Street, she ducked inside and grabbed the last tiny table by the window. Within minutes, with a cappuccino and a cheese and mushroom toasted sandwich in front of her, she heaved a happy sigh and took out her phone.
Kendra had sent her a text. Are you there yet? Just saw the weather forecast on TV – looks like you’re going to get some snow!
Amused, Mimi took a photo from inside the café, of Black Jack Street with the shops opposite almost obscured from view by the rapidly falling flakes. She tapped out: Happening already xxx and sent Kendra the photo.
Moments later, in the middle of taking a massive bite of toasted cheese sandwich, there was a loud double tap on the window. Her head jerked up in surprise and there was Cal, waving at her through the glass.
Looking quite handsome, too.
Mimi hastily chewed her mouthful of molten food. The next moment the bell above the door rang out as Cal pushed it open and came into the café, snowflakes melting on the shoulders of his brown leather jacket and in his tousled blonde hair.
‘Hello!’ There was that magical smile, the one that instantly put you at your ease, even if you were still struggling to swallow your cheese and mushroom toastie. ‘Sorry, did I make you jump? Are you here with your dad . . . or anyone else?’
Mimi shook her head and swallowed at last. ‘Hi. No, I caught the coach down from London this time. I’ve been doing a bit of last-minute shopping, but as soon as I’ve finished this I’m going to get a taxi to Goosebrook.’
‘Well I’m heading back soon. Do you want to come with me?’
‘Not if it means walking,’ said Mimi, and he laughed, pulling out the chair opposite her and sitting down.
‘Don’t worry, I brought my car into town earlier for a service. It’ll be ready to pick up in thirty minutes. I can give you a lift if you don’t mind waiting that long. It’ll save you a taxi fare.’ When she hesitated, he added, ‘It’s OK, you’ll be safe, I’m a good driver. Passed my test and everything.’
Mimi had only paused in order to marvel at the fact that she’d bumped into him again. Was this fate? She felt her pulse quicken, because sometimes these things did seem to happen for a reason. Basically, Cal was attractive, he had a winning sense of humour, and since their last meeting she’d occasionally thought of him, wondered about him and imagined what he might look like naked.
Well, you were allowed to think those kinds of thoughts inside the safety of your own head, even if you weren’t officially in the market for a boyfriend.
‘A lift would be great.’ She smiled. ‘Thank you.’
‘Good. And you’re here for a few days?’ Cal glanced at the suitcase propped up against the wall behind her. ‘I thought you’d have come down more often, but we haven’t seen you again since that first time.’ He tut-tutted. ‘We were starting to take it personally.’
‘I wanted to come down,’ Mimi protested. ‘But work’s been crazy busy, and Dad and Marcus have been up to London a few times. Every time I rang and said I had a free weekend to come and see them, they told me they’d travel up instead. They still love being in the village,’ she added, ‘but they also like zipping back to London, getting to the theatre and catching up with their friends. Which is why I haven’t been down. Still, I’m here now. How are things going for them? Are they settling in?’
‘Like I said before, it’s taking a bit of time. We do invite them to things but they’re still wary.’ Cal’s brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he surveyed her across the table. ‘Maybe now you’re back we can make a concerted effort, get them to relax and join in.’
He really did care. Warmed by his attitude, Mimi said, ‘I did try to get them into the pub last time, but they wriggled out of it. Look, if you’re giving me a lift, the least I can do is buy you a coffee and something to eat. You can’t just sit there with nothing.’
‘I’m fine, don’t worry.’ He shook his head. ‘They said the car would be ready by four. There’s a couple of presents I still need to pick up before we leave, so . . .’
‘Oh, sorry.’ Mimi gestured apologetically. ‘You go off and do whatever it is you have to do. We can meet up at the garage. Just tell me where it is and I’ll find it.’
‘Or you could come with me if you like. Help me choose what to buy. I’m only a man, after all.’ Cal grinned as he sat back and watched her finish her coffee. ‘All female expertise welcome.’
‘Let’s do it.’ Why sit here on her own when she could spend the time being useful? Standing up and sliding her arms into the sleeves of her red coat, Mimi said, ‘Who are the presents for? Your mum? Sisters?’
He shook his head. ‘My daughter.’
‘Oh!’ Well, she hadn’t been expecting that.
Already on his feet, he held the door open. Reaching to take the suitcase from her, he added easily, ‘And my wife.’
Twenty minutes later, Mimi watched from across the shop as he flashed that incredible smile of his at the sixty-something woman behind the till. Just moments ago the woman had been stressed and irate, but now she was laughing and relaxed.
Because that was evidently the effect Cal had; he was one of those people who lifted the spirits of everyone he encountered. He was one of nature’s mood-enhancers.
And he hadn’t been flirting with her at all, Mimi now realised, chastened. So much for thinking he might have been. He was just as friendly towards the old man who’d slipped over in the snow and whom he’d stopped to help back onto his feet.
Cal’s wife’s name, she’d learned, was Stacey, and his daughter was Cora. At six years old, Cora was currently in the grip of a zebra obsession – evidently because they were like horses but stripy and better – and was desperate for Father Christmas to bring her zebra-themed presents so she could run like a zebra and look like a zebra. ‘And sing like a zebra,’ Cal added drily. ‘But we’re not sure how that’s going to pan out.’
‘So she already has a stuffed zebra toy?’ Mimi double-checked.
‘Oh yes. He’s the one who started it all off. We bought him in the shop at Longleat.’
‘And he’s called . . .?’
‘Kevin.’
She nodded. ‘An excellent name for a zebra.’
‘You wait till you meet Cora,’ Cal replied with pride. ‘She’s one of a kind.’
After twenty minutes of diving in and out of shops, the task had been completed.
‘If I say so myself, we’ve done pretty well,’ said Mimi. On a stall in the craft market at the Corn Hall she’d found a soft cotton zebra-print scarf. In Accessorize, Cal had tracked down zebra-print fleece gloves. Finally, as they’d been passing a tiny shop that sold radios and electronic devices, Mimi had glanced inside and spotted a boxful of battery-operated microphones in an array of colours and patterns, amongst them zebra and leopard print.
‘We have,’ Cal agreed, ‘but I’m not sure how thrilled the rest of us are going to be with this microphone by Boxing Day.’
‘When I was eight, I was desperate for a drum kit,’ Mimi remembered. ‘Funnily enough, I never did get one – my parents told me the shops were all sold out. Right, where next?’
‘Just one last thing, then we’re done.’
They made their way back through the snowy streets towards the café where she’d first seen him through the now steamed-up window, then Cal led her down a narrow stone passageway to a craft studio. ‘Stacey and I came here back in October. She fell in love with these mirrors, so I want to get one for her.’
It was a glassworks studio, small but bright with reflected colour and light. The mirrors he was pointing to had frames made from stained dichroic glass in vivid jewel colours.
‘They’re stunning,’ Mimi marvelled.
‘Which one would Stacey like best, though?’
She shook her head. ‘You know her. I don’t.’
‘How about the red and yellow?’ Cal indicated the rectangular mirror to the left of them.
Oh dear, it wasn’t fair to choose something for a complete stranger, but Mimi said, ‘If I’m honest, I prefer the other one.’ The mirror she was pointing to was oval, framed in clusters of glass in shades of emerald, sapphire and violet, and had been finished with silver grouting rather than black.
‘Really?’
Hastily she said, ‘You don’t have to choose it because of me.’
‘No, I’m going to.’ His tone was playful as he took out his wallet. ‘Then if she really hates it, I can blame you.’
The mirror was bubble-wrapped and paid for, Mimi took control of her suitcase once more and Cal carried the heavy, unwieldy parcel as they headed towards the garage where he’d left his car.