CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It’s late afternoon on the twenty-fourth of December and visitors are arriving at the Little Duck Pond Café’s Christmas party. I can feel the festive spirit in the frosty air.
Ellie has done a brilliant job, putting up a real Christmas tree with winking, coloured lights just outside the door and stringing more fairy lights around the window.
I’m standing outside the cafe, at a little distance from the glowing window, watching other people’s reactions to it. What’s in the window seems to be sparking a whole lot of interest . . .
‘Wow, look at that, Holly,’ says a mum to her little girl. ‘It’s a log cabin made out of gingerbread, but I’ve never, ever seen one so big and so grand!’
‘There’s lights in the windows,’ points out Holly, staring in awe.
‘I know. And there’s lots of snow on the roof made of icing and on the little porch. And look at the lovely Christmas garland on the door!’
‘It’s got little berries on it.’
‘I think they might be M & Ms.’
‘Really?’ Holly swings round to her mum. ‘Could I eat them?’
Her mum laughs. ‘If we win it, love, I’ll let you eat every single one. Let’s go in and buy some raffle tickets.’
When they leave, I sidle up to the window myself to see how it looks.
I can’t quite believe I created the gingerbread log cabin that is the centrepiece for Ellie’s Christmas window and her big festive raffle.
A memory of my fun afternoon in Brighton with Rob zips into my head - the Christmas Fayre and the gingerbread houses we found on display. It was Rob who suggested I create a Christmas log cabin for Ellie, made entirely from gingerbread and stuck together with snowy royal icing, and I wish he could be here to see it. But I bumped into his dad, Mick, in the high street the other day and he said Rob was attending his mate’s engagement party tonight, in The Swan Hotel, so he couldn’t be here.
I’ve been thinking about Rob quite a lot lately.
I suppose I was so dazzled by Ethan, I was blind to what a great guy Rob actually is. He’s kind, funny, caring, intelligent – and really rather attractive. I keep thinking about the time he changed his T-shirt right in front of me in the barn, totally oblivious of the effect he was having on me!
I was unaware of a lot while I had Ethan up on a pedestal. Mainly what an utter slime-ball he was! I took Rob’s friendship for granted and I miss him now he’s no longer working in the barn at Brambleberry Manor. I used to love popping in to see him any time I wanted.
Now, the place looks soulless and bleak, all locked up for winter, and I’ve taken to averting my eyes every time I drive past it.
My festive earrings – cute, sparkly snowballs on silver chains - brush my neck, reminding me why I’m here. It’s party time! I only wish I felt more in the mood to celebrate. But this is Ellie’s night and I need to help it go with a swing.
Taking a deep breath, I swing my bag further onto my shoulder, walk up the frosty path and step into the café.
Fairy lights cast a wonderful glow over the room and the whole place smells of mulled wine and apple and cinnamon mince pies warming in the oven. It truly is the smell of Christmas and despite everything, I feel my spirits rise a little.
Glancing around, I estimate there must be thirty people here just now, enjoying the festive ambience. There’s a cup of mulled wine and a mince pie on the house for all visitors to the café today, and needless to say, there’s been a steady flow of people through the doors since the café opened at nine sharp. I was making mince pies non-stop all morning and I stayed longer than usual, into the afternoon, helping Ellie to stack the dishwasher numerous times and clear tables.
Then Jaz arrived at three and I was able to nip home and grab a bite to eat, then get freshened up for the party. Mindful of Rob saying I looked good in jeans, I’ve chosen a skinny black pair and teamed them with a silky top in palest pink with the sleeves cut away quite daringly (for me) and a little row of diamante beads around the neckline. My faux snakeskin ankle boots complete the look.
Lingering in the doorway after shutting out the cold draft, I spot Ellie and Zak, clearing tables. They’re both bearing a load of dirty crockery, and they suddenly converge at the same table and almost crash their trays together. They start to laugh, their eyes lingering on each other, and the love that passes between them squeezes my heart and I feel suddenly overcome with emotion.
I’m so glad they’re properly back together, a little family with Maisie in the centre, as it should be. Just in time for Christmas . . .
Ellie glances across and spots me, and I blink away a rogue tear and paste on a smile.
‘You look happy,’ I point out when she comes over. ‘You both do.’
She beams at me, joy positively shining out of her. ‘Oh, Fen, I am. We are. Thank God!’
‘That is so good to hear!’
‘We’ve been talking about buying a house nearby with a little garden for Maisie. Won’t that be brilliant?’
‘Wonderful!’ I reach over to hug her but have second thoughts with the tray in the way. ‘Look, you’d better take that tray of crockery away otherwise any minute this place might turn into a Greek café.’
‘Hey, that’s an idea! We could have a Greek night with dancing and plate smashing . . .’
She looks at me, and as one, we shake our heads and say, ‘Nah!’
She bears her tray away and I watch her go, feeling a stab of huge affection for her. If only Jaz could be as happy in her relationship . . .
‘Fen! Over here!’ It’s Sylvia, waving me across to where she and Mick are standing by the window, enjoying the mulled wine and mince pies. On the way over, I spot Maisie sitting cross-legged on the floor in the children’s corner, a rapt expression on her face as she stares up at ten-year-old Summer – Jaz’s gorgeous ‘adopted’ daughter – who’s reading The Hungry Caterpillar aloud to her.
Jaz is behind the counter and I catch her eye and point at the kids, and she crosses her hands over her heart with a goofy smile. Then she picks up a cup and indicates she’ll bring refreshments over.
Sylvia envelops me in a hug and the scent of lily-of-the-valley tickles my nose. ‘We thought you might be working,’ she smiles. ‘You’re always so busy. But you’re obviously having a few hours off!’ She points at the gingerbread house. ‘I said to Mick it must have taken you hours – if not days – to make that wonderful creation.’
I grin from one to the other. ‘It did take a while. I think I got about three hours sleep that night.’
Mick leans slightly towards me. ‘A little bird told me you’d been invited to compete in the regional heat of a bake-off competition! It’s not the actual Bake-Off, is it? The one on TV?’
I laugh. ‘God, no. I won’t be meeting Paul Hollywood any time soon! It’s just an event organised by a magazine.’
Sylvia eyes me archly. ‘It’s hardly just a magazine. It’s one of the most popular women’s publications around. I hope you’re going to do it, Fen.’
When I hesitate, she murmurs, ‘Fen, you’re such a talented baker. But you will insist on hiding your light under a bushel!’
‘It’s true,’ says Mick, smiling. ‘I’m old enough to remember what a bushel is but you know what? I’ve completely forgotten.’
Sylvia leans closer and murmurs, ‘He’s going senile but don’t tell him.’
‘Hey, I heard that,’ says Mick. ‘At least I would have if I’d remembered my hearing aid.’ He winks at me.
Sylvia shakes her head fondly. ‘Don’t listen to him. He’s got better hearing than me and that’s saying something.’
‘This is true. I can hear you rustling a biscuit packet from two rooms away, woman.’ Mick twinkles his eyes at her and I smile at them, marvelling at the way love can blossom at any age. ‘But anyway, back to this bushel. Fen, you’re brilliant at what you do. You just need to show off a bit more!’
I laugh and Sylvia looks at him and nods approvingly. ‘Couldn’t have put it better myself, old man!’
Jaz arrives with mulled wine and a mince pie. ‘There you go. Not much of a novelty for you, the mince pie, since you actually made it – but enjoy!’
‘Thanks. Is . . . Harry coming tonight?’
She gives a rather bitter smile. ‘He’s here already.’
We all swing round to where she’s pointing, and sure enough, Harry is standing in the corner by the window, hugging a cup of mulled wine.
‘Is that one of his mates?’ I ask, not recognising the man he’s with.
‘Search me. He hasn’t even bothered coming over to introduce him. Just gave me a wave when they came in.’ She shrugs. ‘To be honest, I’ve stopped caring. I’ll be leaving soon, anyway.’ She walks back to the counter, pointedly ignoring Harry. Although glancing over at him, I wonder if he even noticed. He’s facing the window, with his back to the room, and talking animatedly to his friend, whoever he is.
My heart feels heavy for Jaz. She was so full of joy when she first got together with Harry but everything seems to have gone sour. For the first time, I find myself thinking it’s probably a good thing that she’s moving away from Sunnybrook.
I suddenly wonder what Ethan is doing tonight. Probably chatting up some poor unsuspecting girl at a party, using all his charm on her and flashing those chocolate brown eyes of his. All the while, keeping several other unfortunate women on a string! I didn’t like Cressida but I do hope she’s seen sense and told Ethan where to go . . .
And then my thoughts run back to Rob. Why did I waste so much time on Ethan when I could have been getting to know Rob better instead?
But there’s no point thinking what if . . . ? And anyway, Rob probably never saw me as anything other than a friend . . .
The thought of this hurls me so low, I have a sudden urge to drive home, curl up on the squashy sofa in Dad’s study and forget everything by escaping into my favourite romance novel . . . but I can’t because I’ve already been drinking, and I’ve said I’ll share a taxi later with a few other people going out my way.
‘Hang on,’ says Sylvia suddenly. ‘Isn’t that Sophie?’
‘What?’ I swing round, looking for her, almost slopping the remains of my mulled wine on the floor. ‘No, it can’t be. She wouldn’t dare show her face here.’
‘Yes, she would.’ Sylvia is staring grimly at the door and when I glance over there, my heart lurches. She’s right. It’s Sophie and she’s staring right at Zak and Ellie, who are both behind the counter by the coffee machine. Never mind that Maisie is sitting on the floor, clearly in Sophie’s line of vision. - it’s Zak and Ellie she’s focused on.
As I watch her flick back her hair and smooth her lips together, fury mounts inside me, thinking of the way she used Maisie for her own selfish ends. She strides confidently through the crowd but is halted by Jaz wielding a big tray. Jaz hasn’t noticed her. She’s too busy. And neither has Ellie. But any moment, Sophie will be at the counter, bold as brass, just like she was that first day when she arrived to claim Maisie and ruined everything for Ellie and Zak.
‘She’s not going to ruin this for Ellie!’ I mutter, and Sylvia nods in agreement.
‘Perhaps we should go over there. Say something to Sophie?’ She turns to Mick who nods doubtfully.
‘You know what?’ I snap, narrowing my eyes at Sophie the home wrecker. ‘It’s not happening. That cow is not going to get away with wrecking tonight.’
Taking a huge breath, I walk into a small space in the centre of the room and clear my throat, glancing around me at the chattering crowd. ‘Can I say something please?’
My heart is drumming so fast I feel a little dizzy, like I might just keel over on the spot. I’m determined to do this, though . . .
But to my horror, I realise hardly anyone heard me. A few people looked around at me but them immediately carried on talking.
Panic seizes me. I want to slink away, back to Sylvia and Mick, but something stops me. I think it must be determination to protect Ellie from that witch, Sophie – and something called courage!
I clear my throat again, raise my chin and clap my hands together loudly. ‘Excuse me everyone?’ I shout. ‘Really sorry to interrupt but I’d like to – erm – make a speech!’
Everyone swings round to look at me. I’m the sole centre of attention but for once, I don’t care. I need to say what I have to say! A swift visualisation of Wonder Woman makes me feel instantly stronger – although not as much as I’d like.
And despite the fact that my legs feel about as capable of holding me up as a pair of empty milk cartons, I start talking.
Loudly.
Addressing the whole room.
‘I – erm – I’d just like to say a few words on this wonderfully festive occasion – mostly in praise of Ellie and her fabulous Little Duck Pond Café.’
There are a few murmurs of approval and I pause, swallowing hard, trying desperately to get in touch with Wonder Woman energy. It’s not working too well. I catch Ellie’s eye and her face is a picture. She looks utterly flabbergasted. She clearly hasn’t noticed Sophie yet, if me making a speech is the most shocking thing she’s seen today! So that’s good, then.
I’m aware of Sophie standing wedged in the middle of a group of people, slightly to my left and just behind – so I shuffle slightly over to the left until I’m standing in between her and Ellie, blocking their view of each other.
Now, if I can only get Ellie to keep looking at me, she might not even notice the cow is actually here!
‘So . . . The Little Duck Pond Café.’ I clear my throat loudly. ‘Sorry, folks, I’ve never made a speech before. Far too shy . . . and way too scared of fu . . . getting it wrong!’
There are a few knowing titters at this.
‘Don’t worry, Fen. You’re among friends, here,’ Mick calls and I turn and give him a grateful smile.
‘Yes, I am, aren’t I?’ I look around, seeing so many customers I recognise. ‘And that’s the great thing about what Ellie has created here. It’s a place where friends can meet and chat. A place where you’re guaranteed a warm welcome, however life happens to be treating you. And it’s a place to make new friends, too.’ I glance around at the people closest to my heart – Sylvia, Mick, Maisie, Summer, Ellie, Zak, Jaz and . . . Harry over there in the corner (who’s currently peering out of the window and looking as if he’d rather be anywhere but here).
I look back at Ellie. ‘This amazing woman has worked so hard to carry on the good work started by Sylvia here.’ I turn to Sylvia, who looks embarrassed but touched. People start to clap and I smile and join in. ‘Sylvia entrusted her café to Ellie, and I think you’ll all agree that Ellie has done a fantastic job in making this place the hub of our little community. So thank you, Ellie, from all of us.’
I start clapping again and pretty soon everyone is joining in. There are a lot of cheers and whistles and the applause goes on for so long – Ellie’s cheeks growing pinker by the minute - that eventually, I have to hold up my hands to calm everyone down.
Then I see Ellie’s smile vanish and my heart lurches. She’s staring over in Sophie’s direction . . .
Oh shit, no!
I clear my throat. ‘One last thing before I shut up. I want to mention what an utterly fantastic job Ellie is doing, being a mum to little Maisie here. I walk over and hold out my arms to Maisie and she smiles up at me. I pick her up and carry her into the centre of the room. ‘Ellie’, or should I say ‘Lellie’ – I smile at Maisie and she curls into me, looking shy as people chuckle – Lellie came to Sunnybrook, hoping to start afresh. And she hit the jackpot because she met Zak and his daughter, and basically fell in love with both of them.’
‘And I have to say the feeling is entirely mutual,’ interrupts Zak, putting his arm round a stricken-faced Ellie and pulling her close, much to the delight of everyone watching.
‘So I’d like you to raise your glasses to this wonderful little family unit – Ellie, Zak and Maisie – wishing them everything that’s good for their future together.’
I raise my own glass and shout, ‘Ellie, Zak and Maisie,’ and everyone joins in. I walk over with Maisie and hand her to Ellie, and the little girl loops her arms around Ellie’s neck and snuggles into her. And at last, Ellie smiles.
‘And finally, a toast to the Little Duck Pond Café!’ I raise my glass again and a cheer goes up and we all drink to the future of our café.
‘And just one more thing, before I finally, finally shut up. Ellie, can we talk about that bonus you promised?’
Everyone laughs heartily and I shake my head at Ellie and mouth, ‘Joking’. I actually can’t believe I just made a joke – in public – and everyone laughed!
I turn to see what Sophie is making of all this but I can’t find her. Then I catch Sylvia’s eye and she immediately points at the door then holds up two thumbs in triumph. Sophie, presumably, has gone!
Ellie comes over, her eyes shining with tears, and thanks me for the speech. ‘I knew you were doing it to let Sophie know she’s not wanted. I couldn’t believe it when I spotted her, looking as confident as you like, as if nothing had happened. I can’t tell you what a relief it felt to see her slink away!’
‘How about the speech?’ I grin. ‘I bet you never thought you’d see the day.’
She laughs. ‘Never. What’s given you such balls all of a sudden.’
‘Er . . . Wonder Woman?’
She looks perplexed.
I shake my head. ‘I’ll tell you some other time.’
‘Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen.’ Someone claps and we all turn to see who’s making a speech now.
It’s Harry.
He’s standing with a group of people I’ve never seen before and they’re all – weirdly – holding musical instruments.
‘Where’s Jaz? Jaz?’
‘She’s in the kitchen,’ shouts Ellie and runs to get her.
A few seconds later, Jaz appears, looking bewildered.
And that’s when the group of musicians start playing the opening notes of a song. And Harry, to my utter amazement, starts singing.
He’s obviously very nervous because he totally cocks it up by coming in too early. But on the second attempt, he gets it right.
As soon as he sings the opening words, gazing into Jaz’s eyes, the whole place erupts with cheers and applause.
The song - It Had To Be You – was made famous by Jaz’s hero, Frank Sinatra, and only Ellie and I know the significance of Harry’s choice. Everyone else is obviously just thinking what a perfect song it is to sing to the person you love.
My heart soars for Jaz, as I watch her face change from amazement to dawning realisation and then on to pure happiness.
At the end, Harry gets down on one knee and everyone gasps.
Jaz herself is wide-eyed with shock.
Then Harry says, ‘Don’t worry, this isn’t a proposal. I’m down on my knees for a different reason – to beg you not to leave Sunnybrook. Because if you do decide to go, I’m going to have to come with you – and that would mean I’d be forced to leave my best pals behind.’
Jaz raises her eyes to the ceiling but I can tell she gets the humour behind his words.
Harry grabs her hand and stares up into her eyes. ‘Jaz, what I’m saying is I couldn’t bear it if I lost you. I know I’ve been stupid and thoughtless over the past few months but it was only because I didn’t trust myself to be a grown-up. And you deserve a grown-up, Jaz. So I want you to know that from now on, I’m going to be doing everything I can to prove I’ve left my bachelor lifestyle behind and I’m ready to do grown-up things – with you. Like not sleeping till noon every day or leaving my bedroom in such a state that I can’t even bear you to set foot in it. And paying off my overdraft at last so I can whisk you off on romantic holidays.’ He turns and points at his friends, Greg and Luke. ‘No mates allowed.’
‘We wouldn’t want to come,’ grins Luke. ‘You’ve become boring, mate.’
Greg backs him up. ‘Yeah, all he ever talks about when we’re out these days is you, Jaz.’ He shakes his head sadly. ‘There’s no hope for him.’
There’s a ripple of laughter and Harry gets to his feet, takes hold of Jaz and looks into her eyes. ‘I wouldn’t blame you if you told me to sod off, but I’m really hoping you’ll give me another chance and stay?’ He winces. ‘Pretty please with knobs on?’
Jaz pretends to be thinking. Then she shrugs and says, ‘Oh, go on, then. I will.’
The whole place erupts in cheers and Harry sweeps her up and swings her around, almost knocking a whole table of crockery flying. And then they kiss – very thoroughly - and there’s a great deal of appreciative wolf-whistling.
I stand there on my own, smiling at the pair of them. They look so unbelievably happy. Then I switch my gaze to Ellie and Zak. They’re over in the children’s corner with Maisie and Summer, and as I watch, Zak hunkers down to their level. Ellie found a keeper there, all right. I’m so pleased for them. They were truly made for each other. And now hopefully Sophie’s got the message finally and has buggered off where she came from. And they can get on with being the perfect little family.
A painful lump rises in my throat.
Will that ever happen for me?
Maybe there are just some people in life who are never meant to find that kind of happiness.
I hate feeling down when my best friends are on cloud nine, but I can’t seem to help it. I suppose it’s because it’s Christmas. At this time of year, all sorts of emotions come flooding out . . .
I hate the thought of tomorrow. Mum’s determined to go ahead with the Christmas Day feast as planned but I really wish she’d cancel it. I’ve told her that people would completely understand but she’s being her usual obstinate self, taking on far more than I think is good for her.
But what’s the point of Christmas Day celebrations without Dad there?
The lump in my throat is really painful now and I’m fighting to stop the tears spilling over. I can’t afford to break down here, amongst all these people.
I decide to get a taxi home. I’ll just slip away, saying I’m not feeling well.
No-one wants to see a sad face at a Christmas party . . .
I fumble for my phone, dashing away the tears.
And then I feel an arm round my waist and someone says, ‘If you’re planning on going, will you do me a big favour?’
I turn and to my surprise, it’s Sylvia. ‘Yes, of course I will. What do you want me to do?’
She smiles. ‘Call in at The Swan Hotel and check on Rob for me? He’s not exactly in a party mood but he has to be there for his friend who’s getting engaged. I can’t help feeling worried about him.’
‘Oh. Right. Why isn’t Rob feeling festive, then?’
She gives me a knowing look that I can’t quite fathom. ‘I think it might be love that’s getting him down.’
‘Really? He never mentioned anyone.’
She smiles. ‘Well, no, he wouldn’t.’