Emma
‘That feels amazing,’ Emma said as Kate removed the last of the honey facial mask from her face so that she was free to run her fingertips over smooth and refreshed skin.
‘I told you it would,’ Juliet said, collecting up the bowls and towels from her dining-table, where the three had been sat, enjoying a bit of pampering during an evening off.
Well, not an evening off exactly. But it was much more fun going through Christmas plans for The Clock House, when it came with facials, manis, pedis and scrumptious food provided by Juliet.
‘Kate sold shampoo, conditioner and skin moisturiser using Bea’s natural organic recipes at the village fete this summer and sold out within hours,’ Juliet said proudly as she cleared away. ‘Right, who’s for some Christmas popcorn?’
‘I’m in,’ Emma said, figuring she could call it healthy because it was popcorn. Getting up from the table she followed Juliet and Kate over to the kitchen area of the gorgeous barn-conversion home that Oscar had renovated. ‘So the facial scrub was from one of Bea’s recipes?’ she asked Kate, leaning against the large breakfast bar.
‘Yes. There’s heaps to do before we’d be allowed to use Bea’s Bee Beautiful products in Beauty @ The Clock House but one day I hope to stock a full range and then sell to other spas and shops. For now I’m just pleased you both agreed to be my guinea-pigs. Hopefully my skills are getting better. I nearly poked someone’s eye out at college the other day.’
‘I don’t know how you both fit everything in,’ Emma said. She’d thought she’d been busy in LA, going to class, auditioning and working at Bar Brand. Thought she’d loved it all but it hadn’t been like this. She’d hardly ever seen her flat-mates for a start. They all got on but there wasn’t the camaraderie. Their world was too competitive. Being in Whispers Wood felt like she was working towards something with friends – that they were all equally invested to make The Clock House work.
Kate grinned at Emma. ‘It helps we have you on the team.’
‘Agreed,’ Juliet said, reaching up into a shelf to get what looked like a huge canister of sugar.
‘I’m loving it,’ Emma confessed. ‘I know we haven’t even opened yet, but it’s so much fun it doesn’t really feel like work.’
‘You’re not missing your City of Stars?’ Kate asked.
‘Apart from feeling cold most of the time? No. God, is that awful?’
‘Depends,’ Juliet said. ‘Is it LA or acting you’re not missing?’
Emma thought for a moment. ‘I guess I don’t know. This – being here – doesn’t feel like a novelty, maybe that’s why I’m not feeling homesick?’
‘And at least you have family over here, too. Have you arranged to meet up with your dad, yet?’ Kate asked.
Emma nodded. ‘I’m going the day after the tree-lighting ceremony.’
‘When’s the last time you saw him?’ Juliet asked.
‘My eighteenth,’ she answered without missing a beat. ‘Either Mum organised it or he was over on business, I don’t know. Anyway, he stopped over and took me out to dinner. It was …’ she tailed off, unsure how to describe the happiness of seeing him with the disappointment of not seeing her friends and going to the party they’d organised for her. ‘Very grown-up,’ she finally decided upon. ‘He’s not the most gregarious of men. He’s more serious. Likes numbers. Doesn’t approve of what I do. Did,’ she corrected.
‘He didn’t like you acting?’
‘I’m not sure he thought it a viable career option. You know, not stable enough.’ She guessed he’d been right, hadn’t he?
‘So what does he think about what you’re doing now?’
‘I guess I’ll find out.’
‘You haven’t told him?’
Emma shook her head. ‘I didn’t want to tell him on the phone.’ She hadn’t wanted to hear the confusion followed by the bemusement in his voice and feel even more unrelated to him. ‘I’ll tell him when I see him. What about you, Kate? Does your father know what you’re doing with The Clock House?’
‘Nope. And even if he did, I doubt he’d have an opinion on it either way.’
Emma searched her friend’s face to see if she was trying to hide her feelings. ‘Don’t you miss him?’
‘How can you miss what you never really had?’ Kate replied and Emma realised she really was reconciled to not having the man in her life. ‘The small number of years he was in my life was really an illusion anyway. I tried to pretend he really wanted to be there, but he really didn’t. I’m over it.’
‘And at least you have your mum,’ Emma waited a heartbeat and then decided to just ask, ‘Will you be inviting her over for Christmas Day?’
‘I need to find out what Daniel’s doing about his mum, first. I haven’t met her yet and it feels a bit too much asking them both to spend the whole day together. God, when did Christmas get so complicated?’
‘I think it happens the moment you get your own place and have to decide who you’re having over for Christmas,’ Juliet said.
‘Let’s cheers to that with a honey martini?’ Kate asked, efficiently setting out the ingredients.
Emma eyed up the size of the glasses Kate had got out. ‘It’s nice having someone make me a drink for a change, but so I can pretend the correct amount of outrage, are you trying to get me drunk?’
‘You deserve to let your hair down after the crazy hours you’ve been putting in, which don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly appreciate, but, sooner or later it really is going to feel like hard work and I don’t want you thinking coming here should be all work and no play. If it makes you feel better think of the drink as mostly medicinal.’
Emma laughed. ‘And why do I need medicine?’
‘It’ll warm you up,’ Juliet insisted. ‘You think we haven’t noticed how cold you always are?’
Emma watched as Juliet next put a glug of oil and a knob of butter in a large pan and tipped in the popcorn kernels before covering the pan with a tight-fitting lid. ‘I really do have to get a handle on the heating situation,’ she admitted, thinking about how she should have asked Jake to show her how to work it again but somehow feeling cold had been the furthest thought from her head when they’d been sparring. Chatting. Flirting…
Whatever the hell it was they’d been doing.
‘I’m going to write it all down for you again,’ Juliet said with a smile, taking a gloriously misshapen bowl with hideous blue and orange squiggles all over it from a cupboard and setting it down on the counter-top.
‘What is that?’ Emma asked, clapping a hand over her mouth when she realised what she’d said.
‘It’s a bowl, of course,’ Juliet said with a sniff.
‘You kept it,’ Kate said, clutching her heart and smiling. ‘This,’ she said, pointing to the sunken clay receptacle, ‘is proof Juliet isn’t perfect at every craft she tries. I dared her to keep it so that the balance of those who can craft and those who can’t was restored.’
‘It doesn’t go with anything,’ Juliet said, looking forlornly down at it. The glazes all came out wrong. I think I was going through my displacement activity of “I’ll never get together with Oscar” phase, otherwise I’d have mastered the art of the throw-down better. If it wasn’t so big, I’d wrap it up and give it to you as your Secret Santa present.’
‘It’s so ugly it’s beautiful,’ Kate declared.
Emma definitely agreed with the first part, and reached tactfully for the canister. She opened it and inhaled. ‘Oh my God.’ The scent of vanilla pod, cinnamon, lemon and orange peel filled the room. ‘It smells like—’ she was going to say home but realised with a start that it actually smelled like the set of a Christmas movie she’d worked on when she’d been thirteen.
‘Christmas,’ Kate supplied with a nod, picking up the cocktail shaker. ‘I know. Juliet is the best at making things look, taste, smell and sound perfect. Except when it comes to a pottery throw down. Not a bit of Molly Jensen/Emma Bridgewater to be found and that makes me so happy.’
‘Just for that I’m going to sign up for more classes,’ Juliet pouted.
‘Please,’ Kate said shaking the cocktail ingredients. ‘As if you’ll have the time once we open.’
‘Oh, that reminds me! Watch the pan for a moment, will you,’ Juliet ordered Emma. ‘I’ve got something for you both.’
Emma could hear the kernels already popping inside the hot pan. ‘What do I do when it’s ready?’ she called out.
‘Dump the whole lot into the bowl with the sugar and stir until it’s all coated,’ Juliet said emerging from another part of the barn, laden with packages wrapped in bubble wrap. ‘I made you both something for The Clock House.’
With an excited squeal, Kate put down the cocktail shaker and moved over to the dining table, to tear open the bubble wrap. ‘Are they … oh, Jules, they are and they’re so gorgeous,’ Kate said as Emma quickly transferred the popcorn into the bowl and stirred. ‘Emma, look, they’re signs for the treatment rooms.’
Emma looked at the cute signs dangling from Kate’s fingers. Juliet had used large embroidery hoops and in the centre of each one stitched in beautifully flowing script: ‘Quiet Please, Treatment in Progress’ in Clock House coordinating tapestry threads. The round frame was covered in mini pinecones and mini baubles in antique gold, rose copper, glittery white and a frosted shade of light green.
‘Good job you both agreed my colour scheme for Christmas, huh?’ Juliet said cheekily. ‘These are to hang during the festive period. Afterwards, I’ll make some generic ones. Emma, I made you a sign too. It’s only a bit of fun, really …’
Emma walked over to the wooden frame covered in the same Christmas baubles, but inside, Juliet had stitched “How To Tell The Time At Cocktails & Chai” and designed a picture of a tea-cup next to the words a.m. and a wine glass next to the words p.m.
‘It’s like a Cocktails & Chai clock. Seriously, and again,’ Emma put the sign down and bent over waving her arms, ‘bowing down to you because it’s gorgeous and I don’t know where you find time to do all this.’
When she poked her head back up she caught Kate looking at Juliet with a worried frown on her face and Juliet must have sensed a question she didn’t want to answer coming because she walked over to grab the bowl of popcorn off the table, saying, ‘Speaking of time, one of you pour out the martinis, and we’ll get started.’
Kate poured the drinks and Emma swiped the basket full of nail varnishes they were going to test and then followed the two of them over to the huge squishy-cosy grey sofa in front of the TV.
‘So maybe this is where I should tell you I haven’t seen the first season of Poldark. Or even the second,’ Emma whispered as she sat down.
‘I’m not sure it matters,’ Kate said. ‘For the purposes of plot, all you need to know is tin mining is a thing.’
‘Don’t worry. It’s not the only thing,’ Juliet assured, when Emma looked like she wasn’t sure she could find anything interesting about tin mining.
‘She’s right,’ Kate said. ‘Mostly the other thing is all about simmering passion.’
‘On account of Ross Poldark,’ Juliet explained.
‘Okay,’ Emma accepted, grabbing a handful of popcorn. ‘Ross. Tin mining. Simmering passion. Got it.’
‘Obviously we only watch it for the intricate plot,’ Kate explained, with a grin, as she too dived into the bowl of popcorn.
‘Obviously,’ agreed Emma.
‘And the scything,’ Juliet commented, taking a sip of her drink.
‘Erm … scything?’ Okay, Emma was nonplussed again.
‘Let’s forget season three,’ Kate said, ‘and put it on from the beginning.’
‘Or just from the scything,’ Juliet decided, searching for it on iPlayer.
‘We are so nice,’ Kate confided, popping up to look over at Emma.
‘So nice,’ Emma nodded in agreement, even though she was really none the wiser about this Poldark thing. To cover her confusion she opted to take a sip of her very large cocktail and as the wonderful taste hit her lips, had an idea. ‘Hey, how about if we make honey martinis a special at the grand opening?’
‘Ooh, good idea,’ Kate said. ‘I love the thought of Cocktails & Chai having a signature drink. As long as we have other options too. Daniel and Oscar are complete wimps when it comes to these.’
‘So where is Oscar tonight?’ Emma asked. ‘At Daniel’s?’
Juliet shook her head. ‘He’s at Jake’s. With Daniel. Playing poker. It’s all very Den of Iniquity.’
Kate snorted. ‘Oh, to the joy of Drunk Daniel at about 3am tonight. The front door to the cottage will open. Silently in Daniel’s head. In reality there’ll be enough clanging to wake the dead. Then there’ll be the inevitable repeat while he closes the door and thuds up the stairs until he’s standing in front of my bed. That’s when the serenading will start. For some reason when he’s drunk he likes to channel Sylvester Stallone’s Rocky, so everything comes out very “Adrienne” as he sings, Are you awake, Kate? You’re so beautiful, Kate. Kiss me Kate …’
‘You love it,’ Juliet accused with a huge grin on her face.
Kate screwed up her face. ‘Not when it ends with falling out of his jeans face down on the bed, I don’t. Maybe I’ll stay here tonight, with you.’
‘So you can laugh when Drunk Oscar gets in? I don’t think so,’ Juliet said. ‘That’s why I said Melody could stay over at Persephone’s. So she doesn’t have to wake up to witness the carnage from, “I think I’ll make a nice toasted sandwich using every kitchen utensil we own before I go to bed”.’
‘I wonder what Drunk Jake is like,’ Kate asked.
Emma concentrated on a mouthful of popcorn and when she couldn’t stand it any longer, asked, ‘Have none of you seen Jake drunk, then?’
‘Don’t think so,’ Kate answered.
‘I have,’ Juliet confirmed. ‘The night that—’
‘Well that was completely understandable, wasn’t it?’ Kate said hurriedly cutting her off.
‘Actually I saw him the other night,’ Emma said, not wanting to feel left out, and strangely unable to tear her eyes from Ross Poldark working the fields on the TV screen in front of her.
‘Drunk?’ Kate asked shocked.
Emma shook her head. ‘Stone cold sober.’
Kate leaned across Juliet to stare at Emma, curiosity filling her huge eyes. ‘What did you talk about?’
Emma waved her hand about nonchalantly. ‘The only thing two unattached adults talk about these days, of course.’
‘Brexit,’ Juliet surmised with a sage nod of her head.
‘Nakedness,’ Emma corrected.
Juliet immediately pressed the mute button on the TV and Kate put her glass down and turned to face Emma. ‘Girly night has officially started. Spill.’
‘Brexit would have been more interesting,’ Emma tried to insist.
Kate put her hand to her mouth and coughed out the word, ‘Rubbish’.
‘Really,’ Emma said. ‘I just commented on the fact that he’d shaved off his beard and that he must be – you know – feeling the cold without it.’
‘And he said…?’ Juliet asked, making a ‘continue immediately’ motion with her hand.
‘Something about how he hoped changing his look would help someone change their mind about him and then how it hadn’t so he might grow it back again,’ Emma said.
‘What the…? And men go on about how cryptic women are,’ Kate said.
‘Anyway,’ Emma insisted, ‘it was all very scything.’
‘Scything?’ Juliet asked.
‘Crap.’ Emma fanned her hot face. ‘I actually might have meant boring.’