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Christmas at The Little Duck Pond Cafe: (Little Duck Pond Cafe, Book 3) by Rosie Green (25)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

It’s almost midnight in the Brambleberry Manor kitchen and I still haven’t finished the huge project I started on at two o’clock this afternoon.

It’s no surprise, really.

Because this job is big and extremely complicated.

On a scale of one to ten where one is easy and ten is fiendishly frustrating and impossibly intricate, we’re definitely talking a nine-and-a-half.

But it’s starting to take shape and I’m learning as I go. Royal icing is proving invaluable in the process of sticking parts together – and it’s also good for mending sections that have accidentally broken on the way from the oven to the work top.

The Christmassy aromas of cinnamon, mixed spice and ginger fill the room, and when I glance out of the window, I see to my delight that it’s started snowing. And it’s for real this time. No help from a snow-making machine . . .

By the time I finally fall into bed, it’s creeping round to three o’clock, but I’m happy with the result of my efforts.

I only hope Ellie will be, too . . .

*****

‘You’re not really leaving Sunnybrook, are you?’ I wail at Jaz when she opens the door to her flat later that day. I keep hoping she’ll change her mind about the job.

Her eyes open wide at the sight of what I’m carrying. I have to peer around it to actually make eye contact.

She ushers me through to the kitchen. ‘Wow, that’s . . . incredible. Do you want to put it down there.’

I grin. ‘Yes, please. My arms are breaking. It’s deceptively heavy.’ I deposit my treasure very carefully on the table. I really don’t want any more breakages. ‘What does Harry think of you accepting the job?’

She folds her arms and sighs. ‘He says he doesn’t want me to go, but I’m not sure I believe him.’

‘Why on earth not?’

‘Well, he hasn’t told me he’d really miss me if I went, or anything like that. In fact, he hasn’t made any effort at all to change my mind. You and Ellie have been far more vociferous on the subject of my departure than him.’ She shrugs. ‘Not that it matters, because I’m going anyway. No matter what Harry thinks.’

I study her, shaking my head. ‘I can’t help feeling you might be cutting off your nose to spite your face, Jaz.’

‘How’s that?’ She glares at me indignantly. ‘It’s a fantastic opportunity.’

‘Yes, but won’t you miss Harry if you go?’

She shakes her head. ‘Nothing to miss. I hardly ever see him.’

I sigh with frustration. ‘Okay, but you’re bound to miss us. Ellie and me.’

She screws her face up. ‘Not really.’

She catches my eye and we both burst out laughing.

I glance at my watch. Jaz will have to get a move on. She’s promised to take my cumbersome gift on the final leg of its journey – to the Little Duck Pond Café.

As I’m leaving, I look back at the kitchen table anxiously.

Jaz grins. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get it there in one piece.’

‘You’d better. There’s a whole lot riding on this.’

Jaz meets my look of uncertainty with an understanding smile. ‘She’s going to love it.’

I chew the corner of my lip.

I just wish I could be so sure . . .

*****

The next day, driving to the café, I’m feeling nervous wondering what Ellie will say about my window decoration. But when I get there, it’s Jaz who arrives at eight-forty-five to open up.

‘She had somewhere to be this morning but she didn’t say where,’ says Jaz.

‘Did she like it? My present?’ I ask, sounding a bit too desperate.

Jaz sighs. ‘I don’t know, love. She was running a bath for Maisie when I arrived. But Zak liked it. I think.’

‘You think?’ I wail.

Oh God, did I work on that thing for over twelve hours for nothing? What if Ellie thinks it’s hideous but she’s too polite to tell me so she’s arranged to be out this morning!

‘Oh, I’m sure he did,’ says Jaz, rushing to reassure me. ‘Like it, I mean. But you know what men’s reactions can be to stuff like that. They don’t always appreciate the same things we do.’

I nod, feeling ridiculously disappointed.

I’m annoyed at myself, too. Did I really think this would magically dissolve all the bad feeling between Ellie and me? Talk about wishful thinking!

After my shift, Ellie still isn’t back, and I’m even more certain she’s avoiding me.

Before I leave for home, I catch Jaz in between customers.

‘If you’re really determined you’re going to take that job, we’re going to have to have a night out before you go.’

She smiles sadly at me. ‘You betcha! A big girls’ night out.’

My heart sinks. ‘I . . . I meant just you and me. Ellie’s not going to come to a night out with me there.’

Jaz heaves a sigh and flicks her eyes to the ceiling. ‘I don’t know what on earth has gone on between you two, but isn’t it time it was all sorted and you were friends again? I’ve tried talking to Ellie but she gets this hurt face whenever I mention you. She’s being really stubborn in refusing to forgive you and it’s not like her at all. I know you’ve both been through horrendous times lately but . . .’ She smiles sadly at me. ‘You should have taken your gift along to Ellie yourself, instead of getting me to do it.’

I nod sheepishly, wishing I’d done exactly that.

And right there and then, I come to a decision.

I’ve been avoiding Ellie, not daring to bring up the subject of our fall-out and get to the bottom of it, and so it’s dragged on, making me miserable.

But from now on, I will not shy away from necessary confrontations. I will meet them head on so that thoughts and emotions haven’t got a chance to fester like they have between Ellie and me.

Driving home, I feel a darkness hanging over me, dragging me lower than I’ve been for a long time.

Everything seems to be wrong.

I’ve lost Ellie, and Jaz will be leaving Sunnybrook in early January to start her new job. There’s also still a big question mark over Dad’s recovery; there’s still been no word from the doctor about when he can go home.

And something else is bugging me. I want to know who it was who told Alicia where she could find Ethan the night of the Snow Ball. Because if Alicia hadn’t come looking for him, the chain of events that led to Dad having his heart attack wouldn’t have been set in motion. Ethan wouldn’t have fled from Alicia and I would have been there to help Dad with the snow machine.

I’m so hoping it wasn’t Ellie because I know I’d have a really hard time forgiving her for interfering.

On the bright side, I’ve decided that I won’t be hiding at home any more with my romance books. Of course I’ll still read. But it’s high time I got out there. And armed with Rob’s confidence tricks and the memory of being brave enough to walk out on stage in the pantomime, I might finally have the courage to stop shying away from life . . .

Driving past the barn, I look out for a sign that Rob’s there, but the place is in darkness. The café sign has been secured in place. Perhaps he’s finished this job and has now taken his tools and his considerable talents elsewhere.

Some other customer will be enjoying Rob’s lovely dry sense of humour now.

The thought of this makes something sink a long way down inside me. On top of everything else, Rob’s gone from my life, too . . .

My throat feels choked as I park the car. I start walking quickly towards the house, tears spilling down my face.

Then my eye catches the stunning reds and oranges of the setting sun in the distance. It’s that time of day in deepest December where it’s still daylight but you know that at any moment, the sun will slip below the horizon and your world will be plunged into semi-darkness.

I shiver, despite my winter coat. Mum will have just got back from seeing Dad at the hospital and she’ll have been waiting for me to return, wanting to talk about her visit. If I go in there with ravaged eye make-up, I’ll end up having to talk about everything and I can’t face that right now.

Swerving away from the house, I start walking across the grass towards the lake. It’s my favourite place to be when things are looking grim. Whether its surface is grey and rippling under a bitter wind or as calm and blue as the August sky above it, just staring out over the lake brings me a peace like no other.

In the gathering dusk, I huddle into my coat, sit down on a boulder and stare at the faint reflection of the sunset wavering on the water’s surface. And I wait for the magic to happen – for the peace to flow over me and make everything all right . . .

But a little while later, all I’m feeling is dejected and bitterly cold with a rather numb bum. I was hoping for inspiration to cast light where it’s currently lacking. But inspiration seems to be in very short supply today.

Sighing, I rise slowly to my feet.

Then I see a figure walking across the grass towards me, and my heart lurches.

Ellie?

My heart starts beating very fast.

Has she come to tell me something to do with the café? But surely she could have texted me? That’s how we’ve mostly communicated with each other recently. We used to text about anything and everything; messages making me laugh would ping through from Ellie at all times of the day and night – even if I was in the café kitchen and she was in the room next door!

I’ve really missed those texts.

Now, my heart plunges every time I see a message from Ellie has arrived because I know it will be cold, to the point and always about the business . . .

She walks over to me and stops a few feet away, a tense little smile on her face. ‘Hi. I’ve – um – been waiting for you to get back.’

‘You were in the house?’ I say in surprise.

She nods. ‘I came to see how your mum was doing – and for news about your dad.’

‘Ah.’ My heart tumbles down a lift shaft. So she’s not here to see me, then . . .

‘I’m so glad your Dad seems to be on the mend. He’s such a lovely man.’

I nod. ‘Thanks, Ellie. It was good of you to come over. I’m sure Mum appreciated it.’

She nods and we stare at each other awkwardly.

Then I remember my new resolution: to face up to confrontations and not let things fester . . .

My heart beating faster, I draw in a deep breath and it all pours out.

‘Ellie, I’m really sorry I let you down with the window display. I was so busy thinking about my wonderful, blossoming romance with Ethan – ha-ha - that I was totally oblivious to everything else. And you were right all along about Ethan – he was nothing but a player and a scumbag, and you could see it somehow but I couldn’t. No wonder you were fed up with me . . .’

She takes a step towards me, shaking her head. ‘Fen, I wasn’t right about Ethan.’

‘Yes, you were. It was obvious you thought I was mad to get involved with him. You made your feelings quite plain and I should have listened to you.’

She keeps on shaking her head. ‘I’ve been such a bitch.’

‘What?’ I stare at her in confusion. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Fen, I had no suspicions about Ethan. For all I knew, he might have been exactly the right guy for you and you’d have waltzed off into the sunset together.’

‘But you were so down on him. I thought your instincts were telling you something.’

‘Nothing quite so deep, I’m afraid. The plain truth – and I honestly didn’t realise it at the time – is that I was jealous of you. The green-eyed monster reared it’s head and was alive and well in Sunnybrook!’ She shakes her head in disgust at herself.

I laugh, it’s so ludicrous. ‘You were jealous of me?’

She swallows hard, dashing away a tear. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, Fen, and yes, I tried to throw cold water over your relationship with Ethan because my own romantic life seemed to be falling apart so spectacularly. I couldn’t bear to see someone else – you – in those gorgeous early days of a new relationship, like I remembered it was with Zak and me, before Sophie crash-landed in our lives.’

In the silence that follows this astonishing confession, my brain struggles to realign everything I thought was true but that actually wasn’t.

I draw in a breath. ‘But you were definitely right to suspect Sophie of ulterior motives. I should never have accused you of being paranoid. I’m so sorry. That was unforgivable.’

She smiles sadly. ‘What’s unforgivable is the way I’ve let this – stupid resentment – drag on so long between us. I’m bloody awful when it comes to apologising, Fen. Zak always has to make the first move after we’ve argued. But I’m determined to change that.’

I nod, my heart lifting with relief. ‘I’m going to be making changes, too.’

She gives a watery smile. ‘We can help each other, then. We can draw up our New Year resolutions together.’

‘I like the sound of that.’ I’m in grave danger of breaking down completely but I manage to hold it together.

‘Thank you for the wonderful window decoration. It’s going to look utterly fab for the party on Christmas Eve.’

‘Hey, you’re welcome. Better late than never.’

‘I thought we could raffle it off and give the proceeds to charity.’

‘Great idea. What about the Alzheimer’s Society?’

She smiles. ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’

‘How is the gorgeous Rose? I’ve missed seeing her lately.’

‘She’ll be at you mum’s Christmas Day lunch. She’s still with the devoted Roger.’

I laugh. ‘Hey, good for her! I hope I’ve managed to find someone so adoring by the time I’m her age.’

She looks at me askance. ‘I doubt you’ll have to wait that long. There’s probably someone right on your doorstep . . .’

An image of Rob hurtles into my mind for some reason but I shake it away. After Ethan, I won’t be risking my heart again for a very long time . . .

‘Of course, I owe you the biggest thank-you for defeating that scheming bitch, Sophie, by driving to the hotel and rescuing Zak from her clutches.’

‘Zak told you?’

She nods. ‘He said he was fed up with the cold war between you and me, and he’d told me about your mad dash just so he didn’t have to bash our heads together!’ She beams. ‘I can’t believe you did that for me.’

I smile back. ‘I can’t believe I did it, either. I was quaking in my boots, I can tell you. I thought Sophie might actually murder me.’

‘Well, thank you, Fen. If it hadn’t been for you and Jaz spotting Maisie’s ice cream wrapper, it might have been ages before we realised Sophie was up to no good.’

‘So did Zak tell her where to go?’

She smiles at some private memory. ‘He did, yes.’ Then her face falls. ‘He was absolutely livid about her deliberately making Maisie ill so she’d have to stay at home. Honestly, I’ve never seen him so angry. He told her there was no hope of them ever getting back together so she might as well bugger off to where she came from. He said he was in love with me – and he always would be.’

My heart flips when she says that last bit. Even after my crushing experience with Ethan, I suppose I still have a yearning to hear a man say that about me.

‘And mysteriously, Sophie’s desire to get to know Maisie completely disappeared. Just like that,’ I murmur, shaking my head in disgust. ‘Thank God that gorgeous kid has you for a mum!’

Ellie’s face breaks into a radiant smile, although it’s a little wobbly round the edges with emotion.

Then I remember something. I have to ask her.

‘Ellie?’

‘Yes?’

‘Was it . . . was it you who told Alicia where to find Ethan on the night of the Snow Ball?’

She stares at me, looking totally bemused. ‘No. Why would you think that?’

My face relaxes with relief. ‘I didn’t really. I just had to ask because I can’t for the life of me work out who it was.’

‘Well, it most definitely wasn’t me.’

I nod. ‘So are we okay?’ I ask tentatively.

‘We’re more than okay.’ She closes the gap and envelopes me in the biggest hug ever. And then we’re both laughing and crying at the same time, and she’s joking that if I ever feel like having a humdinger of a row in the middle of Guildford again, I should give her due warning because she’ll bring her kick-boxing gear next time. At which point I remind her that she doesn’t have any kick-boxing gear.

She pulls away with a sad look on her face and says, actually, she does because Jaz had decided she was going to start kick-boxing classes at the café, along with her yoga and zumba. But that was before she got her new job and would have to move away from Sunnybrook . . .

‘I really don’t want her to go,’ I murmur, shaking my head.

‘Me, neither. It won’t be the same in Sunnybrook without her.’

‘I blame Harry.’

‘Me, too. Relationships, eh?’

‘At least yours worked out happily.’

‘Thanks to you revealing Sophie’s true colours. You know, I might just have to tell you I’m grateful every day for the next ten years.’

I smile at her. ‘No need. It’s what you do for your best friend. Come on, let’s warm up inside. I’ll make hot chocolate.’

‘With squirty cream and marshmallows?’

‘Naturally.’

Bumping shoulders affectionately, we start crunching over the frosty grass, back to the house . . .

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