Page 23 of Winter at the Cornish Garden Café
LUCAS
‘Are you warm enough, Dad?’ Lucas asked as they walked to the village square. Sea salt, wood smoke, spices, and pine filled the air, reminding him of his youth in the village. He could hear the village choir as they sang traditional Christmas songs and some villagers joined in. Shivering, he plunged his hands deeper into his pockets, worried about his father being warm enough. He’d made him bundle up in thermals, a thick jumper and his warmest coat, along with gloves and a hat, but even so, he was still worried it would be too much for the elderly man. When he’d told his father to put more layers on and his father had frowned, Lucas had felt the enormity of the role reversal from child to man. Years ago, it had been him frowning as his father told him to dress warmly, but now it was the other way around. But that was what happened, he guessed, as people aged.
When they reached the village square, Lucas took his father’s arm to keep him close because it was busy and he didn’t want to lose him in the crowd. They found a spot at the front of the gathering on one side of the square and stood there waiting as the song ended.
‘Good evening and welcome to the annual turning on of the lights!’ Tabitha Locksley, Chair of the Village Council, said into a microphone. ‘I am delighted to welcome you all here at last!’ Laughter rippled through the crowd. ‘We had a few delays with one thing and another, but we’re here now and that’s what matters. I hope you will all enjoy this evening. There’s plenty of food and drink to choose from and some of our village shops have stayed open for those of you wishing to do some Christmas shopping. So … with no further ado… Here we have the turning on of the Porthpenny Christmas Lights!’
Silence fell over the village square and then a single voice sangWinter Wonderland.
As they watched, a man walked to the small podium in front of the Christmas tree, along with two small girls. Lucas thought the man looked familiar, and he glanced at his father, who leant in close and said, ‘That’s Thomas Dryden, the former professional footballer and now village resident. The girls with him are his sister’s twin daughters, Wendy and Winnie.’
‘Ahhh … thought I recognised him. But he’s been out of the game for a while?’ Lucas whispered.
‘Yes. Nasty car accident ended his career.’ His father nodded. ‘Seems happy enough now, though. In a relationship with a sweet woman called Lena, who’s also moved to the village.’
Lucas nodded. If you’d been through a tough time like Thomas had, then moving to a village like Porthpenny was a positive move. Here, he could take the time to heal and to breathe, whereas staying in a city like London could keep someone in the public eye and make it harder for them to live a quiet life.
Thomas and his nieces stood on the podium, then Thomas leant over and said something to the girls, prompting shy giggles. Then, together, they all pressed the big green switch on the table in front of them. As it sent a signal to the power system, the lights flickered on around the square and across the harbour.
Fishing boats bobbing in the harbour sparkled with strings of solar lights, their twinkling reflections dancing on the water’s surface. Ropes of lights draped from signposts and buildings swayed in the evening breeze, casting a soft golden glow over the dark cobblestones. In shop windows, fairy lights shimmered and pulsed, filling the village with a warmth that seemed to spread from building to building like a joyful holiday embrace. And, finally, the lights on the 20-foot spruce at the centre of the square came to life, climbing from the base up and gasps of delight spread through the onlookers. Then the choir began to singWe Wish You a Merry Christmasand soon everyone joined in.
Lucas found his eyes scanning the crowd, searching for Thora, and then they found her and his heart leapt. She was wearing a woolly hat, scarf, and padded coat, dressed like everybody else, but he’d know her face anywhere. She was standing with her parents, who had aged somewhat since he’d last seen them, but that was to be expected. Two teenagers, who he suspected must be her children, were with them. They were both taller than Thora and the girl was holding her arm, leaning her head on Thora’s shoulder. In that moment, he knew Thora was a wonderful mum. How could she ever be anything else? She was a lovely person, and she would have taken to motherhood like a duck to water. Once upon a time, they’d talked as young lovers do, about what life would be like when they had their own family. It had seemed a long way off and he’d thought about it as something that could happen one day. He had, he realised now,assumed that it would happen one day but then they had split up and so it hadn’t happened. Thora had married someone else and had his children. Children who were with her now. They could have been his. A cold ache settled in his chest, and he pressed a hand there over his coat as the harsh reality of the situation hit him. He could have had a family with Thora, but now it was too late. The chance had passed and until this moment, it hadn’t hit him that he’d missed that boat. Sure, some people had babies in their forties, but it was harder, less likely, and for him and Thora, it would probably never happen.
The song ended, and Lucas turned his attention back to the tree. He wasn’t sure what was happening to him, but it was like returning to the village was making him face up to the ghosts of Christmases past. He’d been removed from it in London, but here in this village, he couldn’t escape it at all.
‘What’s up?’ his father peered at him.
‘Nothing.’ He shook his head, alarmed that his father could see that something was wrong. He really didn’t want to have to tell him what he was thinking.
‘You’ve gone very pale.’
‘It’s nothing. Don’t worry. Just a bit cold.’
‘Why don’t we get a warm drink into you, then?’ The concern in his father’s eyes surprised him and he knew he couldn’t let on what he was thinking. After all, it wasn’t just him affected by the decisions he’d made. Neither of his parents had become grandparents, and that was because of him. Not everyone had children or grandchildren, and not everyone wanted to have them, but Lucas knew his mum would have loved to be a grandmother. It may even have brought some joy to his father’slife too, but that was something Lucas would never have thought until now. His father had, it seemed, changed. It was just a shame that it had all happened too late for it to have an impact on the past.
‘Good idea.’ He led the way over to the drinks stall, and they waited in line. When they got to the front of the queue, he ordered them a mulled cider each, then they carried them over to a bench in front of the harbour and sat down.
The choir continued to sing carols, and people milled around, admiring lights and purchasing food and drink. Lucas sipped his cider and gazed out at the boats bobbing in the harbour, and felt some of the tension that had gathered in his shoulders earlier seep away.
‘This is nice, son,’ his father said.
‘It is.’ Lucas nodded his agreement. He didn’t add that he was surprised, as he hadn’t thought a few months ago that he’d be here for the turning on of the Christmas lights. The unpredictability of life and people were things he was coming to terms with. He’d thought he’d known exactly who his father was, but it seemed that he hadn’t got the full measure of him at all.
‘I’m very grateful to you for bringing me down here this evening.’
‘It’s no problem, Dad.’
‘I … I haven’t wanted to come for years. It’s such a family friendly event and being alone I…’ His father rubbed at his eyes with his free hand and coughed and Lucas realised he was getting emotional.
‘It’s OK, Dad.’
‘I thought … I thought that was it for me. That I was always going to be alone.’ Lucas watched as a tear trickled down his father’s weathered cheek.
‘Oh, Dad … I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to be sad.’ It wasn’t strictly true because Lucas had felt hardened to anything his father may be going through for many years, but that had been before he’d seen how his father had changed. Before he’d had an apology from him. Before he’d seen his father as a human being with flaws just like every other human being on the planet. It didn’t mean he was a terrible person, just human.
‘I bet you think I’m a bit like Scrooge, don’t you?’ His father laughed softly.
‘Like Scrooge?’
