Page 2 of The Winter We Met
‘Why leave it that late to decide?’ he asked.
‘So that it ramps up the excitement in the weeks before the big day… Last year’s theme was a masquerade ball. The year before a Downton Abbey one.’
‘It sounds ace. Christmas really is the best time of year. My family and I are often too busy to go to parties, going into overdrive completing the production of extra orders of toys that no one predicted would be quite so popular. Not that I mind. It’s worth it if I’m out and spot a kid playing with one of our products.’
Before I could answer the pilot announced we were about to land. How had that happened? Nik had turned hours into minutes. We tightened our seatbelts and I stashed the remainder of the chocolate into my handbag. I gripped the arm rests. Nik pulled a funny face and I couldn’t help grinning. Eventually my rapid breathing slowed as he went on to tell a really bad joke, me shaking my head when he delivered the punchline. Relief surged through me as I realised the plane had touched down. When we came to a standstill, a whistling Nik passed down my hand luggage from the overhead cabin, slipped on his anorak and grabbed his rucksack. The air stewards beamed as he thanked them for a great journey. We disembarked and walked into the large, impersonal terminal, hit by the hustle bustle and flight announcements over the intercom. My stomach rumbled as I followed Nik who navigated the crowd easily as he stood a good head above anyone else.
‘Are you going to another fair?’ I asked, once we’d collected our pull-along cases, needing to leave but not quite wanting to say goodbye. Nik was good company.
‘Sure. Tomorrow – one in London just for manufacturers. Then I’m… taking a break for a few weeks. A friend of the family has gone away on business for two months and said I could have his flat for as long as I wanted, in a place called Islington.’
‘Nice. But a break? At this time of year?’
‘Mitigating circumstances,’ he said. ‘And I can’t think of a better country to spend time in. You’ve reminded me of how much I like England. I’ve really enjoyed meeting you, Jess.’
My stomach did a little flip as he said my name. It caught me by surprise. ‘It’s been great meeting you too.’ I looked at my watch. ‘It’s only ten o’clock. What have you got planned for the rest of the day?’
‘Nothing much. It feels like a waste, to be honest. Guess I’ll just head to the flat and stock up on food. If I was sensible, I’d get some sleep.’
‘Do you fancy having something to eat together first? My stomach is calling out, literally, for eggs and toast.’
He smiled. ‘There’s me thinking that noise was the weather gods welcoming me into London with a roll of thunder.’
We managed to find ourselves a seat in one of the airport’s crowded restaurants. Despite the early hour, a group of young men sat at a nearby table downing beer and flicking drinks mats, their raucous chat revealing they were heading to Amsterdam for a stag party. Nik and I both ordered a full English breakfast and sat nursing mugs of tea.
‘So, you’ve been to England before?’ I asked and took a sip.
‘Yes. It’s only the last few years or so that I’ve been going to the trade fairs on my own. I joined the company straight from university and Mum and Dad have been teaching me the ropes ever since, taking me on work trips abroad.’ He ran a finger around the mug’s rim. ‘They brought me here as a teenager though, on holiday to see the sights. Mum and Dad went backpacking during university holidays and always said there was nothing quite like travel for broadening the mind. They liked discovering unusual places. We travelled the length of the country, from Newcastle to Bournemouth.’
‘Wow. Any favourite places?’
‘Stonehenge was amazing – so atmospheric. And we rented a cottage in the Cotswolds for a few days, in a quiet little village. It looked like a picture off a chocolate box and ducks visited the back garden – Mum fell in love with it. Manchester was pretty cool with trendy independent coffee shops and warehouse stores. We had to visit the Cavern Club in Liverpool as Dad had always been a massive fan of The Beatles and we also took a wonderful steam engine trip through Norfolk. We only spent one day in the capital so I don’t really know London.’
‘It sounds as if you’ve seen more of my home country than I have. So what got your parents interested in toy manufacturing?’
‘Mum was studying a degree in arts and Dad a design degree with modules in consumer engineering. He was left some money from his grandparents – enough to start the business. Also both of their families are big and even in their twenties, between them, Mum and Dad had lots of nephews and nieces and loved entertaining them, and Grams and Grandpa – Mum’s parents – would often talk about how Mum was always making her own toys as a child out of food packaging and scraps of materials or plastic.’ He smiled. ‘She encouraged me as a boy. I used to love crafting with the week’s leftover cereal boxes and plastic butter tubs. I guess that passed the passion onto me.’
‘My gran used to be more of a chef and we’d make a new recipe up from leftovers each week,’ I said. ‘A friend of hers owned an allotment and we’d bake all sorts of crumbles and concoct different pasta sauces with vegetables. Our pumpkin spaghetti became a favourite.’ The waitress delivered our breakfast and I looked down at the plate. It had a small pot of baked beans, fried eggs, bacon, tomatoes and mushrooms, plus slices of buttered toast and a hash brown. ‘Gran would love this. When I was younger, she’d do me a fry-up as a treat every Friday, before school. There’s nothing like waking up to the smell of bacon.’
‘So how didyouget into the business?’ he said, offering me the salt before shaking it across his eggs.
‘Angela, the boss of the toy shop where I work – Under the Tree – went to school with my mum, therefore she knew Gran and heard how I wasn’t sure what to do after my A levels. She said there were worse careers than working in retail, and that she couldn’t pay me much to begin with, but would I be interested in a job in a new toy shop she was setting up.’ I shrugged. ‘Angela gave me a future, a purpose, and I was grateful, working hard to prove her trust wasn’t misplaced.’ A comfortable silence fell for a few moments. I popped the last bit of toast into my mouth. ‘What do you eat for breakfast in Australia?’
‘Similar to this if I’ve got time. Or I grab a bowl of cereal.’ He closed his eyes and made a satisfied noise before opening them again. ‘I hadn’t realised how hungry I was. Thanks for suggesting this, Jess. I feel like a new man. Well… almost. My legs are still aching from being squashed behind that seat in front.’
‘Not a problem I have, at five foot three.’ I cut through an egg, sunshiny yolk spilling across the plate. ‘Although next to Gran I’m practically a giant. She must be only four foot something now.’
‘Grams shrank too during her final years.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry to hear she isn’t with you anymore.’
‘It was a huge shock when she passed – even though it had been foreseen for a while.’ He stopped eating for a moment and his voice became quieter. ‘Grams didn’t always know who I was, at the end, but sometimes she’d wink or pull a comical face and we’d laugh.’ His mouth quirked up. ‘But then she’d always been a joker. Grandpa was the serious one and saw it as his duty to teach me the things he’d grown up doing, such as fishing and tying knots. Whereas Grams and me would dance in her kitchen, hand in hand, singing to her favourite folk music. He always did say he wouldn’t last long if she went first.’ Nik dug his fork into a mushroom and a sheepish look crossed his face. ‘Jeez, sorry, I’m getting way too serious this early in the morning.’
Don’t apologise. Your openness is refreshing.
‘You get on well with your grandparents?’ he continued.
‘My granddad died before I was born. He got hit by a stolen car. But yes, Gran practically brought me up. I don’t know how I would have managed without her.’
