Page 32 of New Beginnings at the Little Christmas Inn
‘I suppose you know all about these things?’
‘Only the bare minimum. I’m more of a scientist.’
Livvy could believe it.
‘These witches’ charms and so forth. Very common in Dorset. Nothing more than superstition, of course.’ He gave a slight shudder. ‘Primitive stuff, and nonsense. Can’t have been pleasant for you, though.’
Livvy gave a quick shrug. She refused to be drawn on the subject of the mummified cat. It still freaked her out to think about it. ‘I’d heard a story about a couple of star-crossed lovers connected to the pub. I don’t suppose you know anything about them?’
‘Star-crossed lovers, eh?’ Jason’s eyes glinted. ‘Well, that’s a bit more like it.’ He pursed his lips. ‘I’ve only heard something vague about the tale. Why not pop into the museum? I believe Barbara is well versed in local history.’
‘I will. Thank you.’ Livvy began to gather her things. ‘And thank you for the hot chocolate and showing me the delights of Gandy Street.’ She stood up. ‘And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve more Christmas shopping to do.’ It was a flimsy excuse and, moreover, a lie but she had a sudden need to get away. And get away from him.
When she offered a ten-pound note to pay, he batted it away. ‘You can treat us next time.’ He caught her hand as she passed by him. ‘I hope there will be a next time, Livvy.’ His thumb caressed her knuckles in a way which made Livvy’s skin crawl. ‘I’d really like there to be.’
Livvy gave him a stiff grin. ‘Bye, Jason,’ she said through gritted teeth, and navigated the confusion of tables, chairs and shopping bags on her way out of the café.I’d rather sup with the devil.She was grateful for him pointing out the silk cummerbund and matching bow tie for her father’s present but refused to extend their friendship beyond that.
CHAPTER 20
Sherry – a fortified wine made from white grapes. Popular in the nineteenth century and gaining in popularity now. Some consider it quite the neglected wine treasure.
The following day was quiet in the pub. Old Pete and Skip came in and a few were booked in for lunch but that was about it. Livvy dug out some Christmas CDs and played one softly in the background. The wood burner, thanks to Jonquil, was burning cheerfully and the bar looked tastefully decorated but far too subdued after the café in Gandy Street. While she had no desire for its headache-inducing excesses, a few more decorations and lights wouldn’t go amiss.
The tree was beautiful and smelled fragrantly of pine but the silver star on top wasn’t enough of a statement. To her delight one or two customers had given her Christmas cards so she’d strung up ribbon in amongst the white lights over the bar and hung them there. She hummed along with Michael Bublé,agreeing that it was ‘Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas’. But it needed more. After all, it wasn’t a season for restraint.
Livvy knew she could leave Fabio, Stewie and Karl in charge so headed out to the shops. The town was definitely getting its Christmas groove on. Mini trees, wreathed with lights, poked out over the shop windows, a huge tree had been erected in the square and lights were strung between the buildings over the main street. It looked festive now, during the day, but would be spectacular when darkness fell. She hadn’t made it to the Christmas lights ceremony, as she was working in the pub, but a number of customers had popped in on their way home glowing with excitement and reporting how beautiful the lights were this year.
‘No more gold hot pants,’ Craig from the auction house had said. He’d delivered an antique pine bench he thought she might like. He was right; it would look perfect in the bar. His comment had confused her until he explained. ‘Last year’s lights looked absolutely perfect until lit.’ He chuckled, his laughter rumbling from deep within his enormous frame. ‘Then everyone saw they formed the rather unfortunate and unmistakable pattern of underpants when lit.’ He laughed again. ‘Real Kylie gold hot pants, they were. Such a hoot. The mayor was apoplectic when he clocked them. Story’s passed into Lullbury Bay legend.’ He wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes. ‘Such a shame there’s no repeat,’ he’d said. ‘I rather miss them.’
Now, Livvy noticed, as her van struggled up the steep hill which was the main shopping street, to the soundtrack of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’, that many of the shops had their windows decorated for Christmas. New this year, was the Best Decorated Shop. It would be announced at the Late Night Shopping Event and she promised herself she’d make it.
On the way back from the DIY store and the Cash and Carry, with a load of crisps, nuts and soft drinks, and another coupleof boxes of lights and decorations, she avoided the busy main street, diverted and drove past the town’s museum. It, too, had entered into the Christmas spirit and, in the car park outside, had a tall tree elegantly decorated with shiny red baubles, topped with a gold star. She drove past thoughtfully and then, on an impulse, pulled into the next road and turned around. She ignored the horn which blared out behind her, she assumed from an irate motorist who had been taken by surprise at her sudden manoeuvre. Retracing her route, she drove into the museum’s car park. As she parked up, a sleek grey Mercedes slid in behind her and parked alongside. It was Mark.
‘Hi there. Didn’t you hear me hoot?’ He locked his car and came over to her.
Livvy leaned against her van. She crossed her arms. ‘So, it was you being a road-hog?’ she reproved, playfully.
‘Only when stunningly attractive pub owners suddenly turn left in front of me without signalling.’ He flashed a grin.
‘I take the compliment and thank you.’ Livvy looked down. ‘Especially as I’m dressed in my scruffy dungarees. Sorry to cause you confusion. I was on the way back to the pub when I decided, to hell with it, Karl and Fabio can cope without me.’ She pulled a mischievous face. ‘I’m playing hooky.’
‘Sounds intriguing. Can I join in?’
‘Please do, I don’t think it’ll be all that exciting.’ She jerked her head towards the museum. ‘Thought I’d find out more of the pub’s history. I’ve been instructed to seek out Barbara.’
‘Then count me in.’ Mark looked up at the building. ‘I don’t know how many times I’ve driven past this place and I haven’t been in yet.’
‘It’s an impressive looking place, isn’t it? Especially against today’s blue sky. Looks as if it was once a big house. Georgian maybe, possibly the same vintage as the pub. I love the tree.’Livvy took his arm. ‘Come on then, let’s get you and the museum acquainted. Don’t want to hang about out here, it’s freezing!’
They walked into the foyer. At one time it must have been the grand entrance of the house and still showcased impressive black and white floor tiles. A magnificent staircase led upstairs, dividing into two at a half landing in front of a tall window. A Christmas tree stood beneath and looked perfectly in place. Wound around the banisters was a mass of red tinsel and ‘When a Child is Born’ played softly in the background.
Waiting at the desk and while Mark perused the leaflets on display, Livvy took in the sight of another two beautifully decorated trees. She admired the giant silver stars on top and recognised them as the same as the one she’d just bought. Red tinsel had also been hung all round a noticeboard and she made a note to do the same to the one Karl had just fixed to the pub’s corridor wall. She wandered about in the hope of spotting someone, but the place was deserted. Returning to the desk, she spied an old-fashioned brass bell and twanged it. After a few minutes, a middle-aged woman bustled out from a door hidden underneath the sweeping staircase. Raucous laughter, and Slade followed her out.
‘Oh my,’ she said, snatching off a paper party hat. ‘Have you been waiting long? We’re officially open but never get many visitors at this time of the year so we’re having our Christmas party.’ Her small brown eyes darted left and right. ‘Only don’t tell anyone, will you? We’d get in trouble if the directors knew we were doing it when open.’
Livvy smiled warmly at the woman. ‘We’ve only this minute walked in so you haven’t kept us waiting at all. And I wouldn’t dream of saying a word. I’m sorry if I’m interrupting your party and I don’t know if you can help but it’s been suggested I need Barbara.’
‘I’m Barbara. What can I do for you?’
