Page 65 of A Not So Quiet Christmas
Chapter 39
Christmas Eve
With a busy Christmas Eve ahead, I got up early and took Frank out before I’d even had my first cup of coffee. The sky looked ominous and thanks to a freezing wind, the air felt bitter. As usual, Frank didn’t seem to notice the sub-zero temperature and while I tried to chivvy him along, he dug his feet in at every opportunity, more than happy to stay out in the cold. I, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to get back indoors and refused to give in to his delay tactics. Tug after tug on his lead, I finally got him to Number 3.
As soon as we were inside, I went straight to work on the fire. Rolling up my sleeves, I cleaned and lit it, before heading into the kitchen to make a hot drink. Glancing at the pile of notes on the counter awaiting my attention, I told myself to warm up first. With lots to do, I’d be busy soon enough. After carrying my coffee into the lounge, I plonked myself on the sofa and sipped on my drink, while the heat from the flames worked its magic.
Sitting there in the quiet, I thought about my Christmas Day guests. We were such a varied bunch that I couldn’t imagine how we’d all relate. Thanks to our differences, conversation around the dinner table would either be interesting, stilted, or worst-case scenario, non-existent. I smiled, thankful that Jason and Seb would be present. Recalling our tree decorating afternoon, I doubted either of those two would sit in silence for long.
I didn’t know how Jules did it year after year. Having a quiet day would certainly be a new experience for her; I only hoped it was a positive one. Fingers crossed, mine would be too. Hosting Christmas lunch felt like a big responsibility and the more I thought about it, the more my nerves began to creep in. I refused to let them take hold. Considering the ups and downs I’d already gone through since landing in Little Leatherington, nothing could be worse than getting stuck up a mountain or mistaking a cow for a burglar. I sighed dreamily, reflecting on one of the more positive aspects of my stay. Or beat being kissed by Mr Oliver Chase.
Shaking myself out of it, I picked up my phone and searched YouTube for the ultimate Christmas number one playlist. Whacking up the volume to full, I rose to my feet and ready to dance and sing my way through a whole host of jobs, headed out to the kitchen.
My singing paused as, holding it at arm’s length, I heaved the huge turkey onto the trivet of onion, carrots, celery, and garlic that lay in the bottom of a roasting tray. Looking at it sat there, all pink and raw, I grimaced, unable to believe how much manhandling I’d done. Forced to rid the bird of its giblets, before stuffing and buttering the thing, I realised I’d never make a butcher. I pulled off my greasy surgical gloves and tossed them into the bin, continuing to scowl as I covered the turkey in tinfoil ready to go in the bottom of the fridge.
I turned on the sink’s hot tap and soaped my hands up under the steaming water to get rid of any potential food poisoning bugs, at the same time considering how my to-do list fared. My smile returned. I’d had a busy morning and having already parboiled and fluffed up the potatoes, washed peeled and chopped the vegetables, and made a creamy, booze-laden trifle following Jules’s special recipe, I seemed to be on target with my preparations. My mouth watered. I could have eaten that dessert there and then.
Telling myself I’d have to make do with a cup of coffee and a well-deserved biscuit, I flicked on the kettle and delved in the cupboard. I frowned as I took in all the goodies before me. A Christmas pudding, a Christmas cake, after-dinner mints… There was everything for the big day itself, but as I pushed aside a box of mince pies for a better look, there wasn’t a simple biscuit in sight. Tempted to choose something from what was there, my hand hovered over a bag of chocolate coins that I had bought for Seb. However, I couldn’t steal from a child and it would only take minutes to nip to the shop. So I whipped my hand away before I could change my mind.
I made my way out into the hall, put on my coat, and popped my head into the lounge to see Frank fast asleep in front of the fire. I chuckled at the sound of his snoring and deciding to leave him be, headed for the front door. The air temperature seemed to have further plummeted and as I set off down the street, I began to wish I’d opened Seb’s chocolate coins after all. I stuffed my hands deep inside my pockets as I walked and picking up pace, told myself the quicker I got to the shop, the quicker I would be back.
As I neared my destination, I wasn’t surprised to see Flat Cap Man loitering opposite.
Stood there in the freezing cold with a bunch of flowers, he was giving himself his usual pep talk as he paced first left and then right.
My heart went out to him and recalling what Oliver had said about the chap’s feelings for the shopkeeper, Marianne, I wished Flat Cap Man would pluck up the courage to ask her out once and for all. Not only for his sake, but hers too, I reasoned. It couldn’t be good for the woman to have her head stuck in a book all the time, instead of engaging with real people in the real world.
You’re one to talk, a little voice reminded me.
I scoffed and for the first time since landing in Little Leatherington, I didn’t just listen to my inner critic, I agreed.
Jules had been right to say I wasn’t a people person. That was why I loved living in London. London gave me anonymity. I didn’t stand out. I was a tiny little pixel in a massively big picture. I spent my days avoiding everyone around me. Apart from Harry and Jules, that was. I didn’t even know my neighbours. No wonder Jules had finally forced me out of my comfort zone by sending me to a place like Little Leatherington, where I couldn’t hide in a sea of people. Being a southerner in the north and a city woman in the countryside, I was always going to stand out. Whether I wanted to or not. Of course, the predicaments I’d found myself in had made me even more conspicuous.
Approaching the shop, I gave Flat Cap Man a wave. “Merry Christmas,” I said to him, before entering.
Searching for a packet of biscuits, I made my choice and headed to the till where Marianne and her reindeer deely boppers enjoyed their latest read. I coughed to get her attention, but just like on every other occasion it was to no avail. I looked out of the window at Flat Cap Man, who continued to pace and give himself a good talking to. Returning my gaze to the shopkeeper, it was clear the situation called for direct action. I checked the price of my purchase and dug out the exact amount from my pocket and after placing it on the counter, I reached over and took Marianne’s book from her hand.
“What the…?” she said. After two weeks of trying, I, at last, had the woman’s attention.
“It’s all there,” I said, smiling as I nodded to my payment.
“Thank you,” Marianne replied. Scooping up the coins, she rang up the till and dropped the money into its drawer, her expression a mix of annoyance and confusion throughout. “Is that everything?” she asked.
“Not quite, no,” I said. I opened the shop door and remembering Oliver had mentioned Flat Cap Man’s name, called out to him. “Lewis!”
He looked my way.
“Could you come here, please.”
The poor man was mortified. He looked from me to down the street, as if tempted to do a runner.
“Now,” I said, using my sternest of voices.
Realising he didn’t have a choice in the matter, he tentatively stepped into the road and made his approach.
I took him by the arm and gently guided him inside the store. “Marianne, this is Lewis.”
Lewis stood there dumbfounded, clearly in awe of the woman, while Marianne sat there wide-eyed, understandably wondering what was going on.
