Page 45 of The Christmas Catch
“Twenty-five minutes to the village, but then we have to find my cousin’s place. Her B&B is called something clever that was in a movie, but I can’t remember what. The good news is Lower Greeton isn’t that big, and she lives just off the main square, so I’m hoping I remember that. If I don’t, we’ll knock on doors.” Ali clicked on the message to her mum. She still hadn’t read it. She checked her watch. Midday. Her mum would be busy in the bar for a while yet and she wouldn’t answer her phone. She copied the message to her sister too, to cover all bases. Then she tried to call her. No answer.
Ali got up. “Shall we keep moving to stay warm?”
The snow crunched underfoot as they walked, following the signs to the Christmas market. However, when they arrived, Ali wasn’t prepared for what she saw.
“Oh my god,” she muttered, taking it all in. Five rows of Christmas stalls with wooden roofs stood in front of them, the nearest selling delicate Christmas ornaments, the next piping-hot mulled wine from a chrome barrel. The spicy, warming smell made Ali’s nose tingle in the best possible way. As she raised her gaze, she spied an illuminated Ferris wheel turning in the background. When she glanced left, the promised ice rink winked at her in the midday gloom. Right ahead, there was also a sign for Santa’s grotto. She’d loved going there as a kid. In fact, she’d loved Christmas as a kid. When had she got so ‘bah humbug’?
“This is the most spectacular slice of Christmas in the middle of nowhere.”
“I was just thinking the same,” Ali replied. “If you’re going to be stuck anywhere, this is not a terrible option. Shall we get a mulled wine and stroll the market? I can have a drink, now I’m not driving.”
“Can they do you for drunken tandem riding?” Morgan walked towards the mulled wine stand.
“Can you get drunk on mulled wine at all?”
Morgan laughed. “Good point.”
Ali ordered them both a mug of hot wine from a bearded man wrapped in so many scarves, Ali could only assume he had a neck and a chin. He handed them over, and Ali cupped her hands around the ceramic mug. She took a sip, and the alcohol warmed her through. It was better than she remembered.
“This is good,” she told Morgan as they walked down the first line of stalls.
Morgan nodded. “My first of the season. I’m already kicking myself for not having some earlier.”
“Me, too.” Ali smiled. “You’ll have to come to the pub for your next one when we get home.”
“I’ll drag the whole family, up your profits.”
“My family thanks you.”
Even so early, there was a fair smattering of people out to soak up festive cheer and do some Christmas shopping. Ali dodged around a family with a double buggy before they drew up alongside a stall selling pick’n’mix sweets.
“Talking of sweets, how did you suddenly produce a box of Celebrations at the desk earlier?” Ali jabbed Morgan’s backpack. “Is this a Tardis and you haven’t told me?”
“I bought another box in the gift shop for your cousin. I guess I’m going to have to restock. You can never have too much chocolate.”
Ali stared at her. “You’ve got hidden depths, Morgan Scott. It’s the main thing I’m going to take back from this trip.”
Morgan shifted her gaze left, embarrassed.
“I used to love this when I was a kid.” Ali pointed at the pick’n’mix. “Can you hold this?” She held out her wine and Morgan took it. Then she grabbed some small pink tongs on the tabletop, and filled her pink-and-white striped bag with strawberry laces, cherry lips, fried eggs, bananas and milk bottles. “All the sweets from my childhood. I feel like we need a treat today. Anything you want to add?” Ali opened the top of the paper bag as wide as she could. Then she took back her wine and handed the tongs to Morgan.
Morgan added fizzy cola bottles, Black Jacks, milk bottles and toffees. “Are we just going to eat and drink our way through the next three hours?”
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
Morgan shook her head. “I should be home being festive with my family. Instead, I’m here being festive with you.” She leaned in so their faces almost touched. “Whisper it, but I don’t hate it.”
Ali’s insides warmed. “I’m glad.”
They came to the end of the row of stalls, and face to face with the festive Ferris wheel. It was a classic, each carriage only big enough for two. They were lit with rainbow-coloured lights, and Christmas classics blared from the speakers. Ali glanced up, then at Morgan. “Remember the fair that used to come to Dartmouth every spring?” If Ali closed her eyes, she could still picture the layout, with the giant Ferris wheel in the middle.
“Do I? I had my first kiss on the Ferris wheel there. Unfortunately, it was with Chris Heaton. Completely the wrong gender, but I was slow on the uptake, like I told you.” Morgan took a cola bottle from the bag, then took a swig of wine. “Whatever, Ferris wheels have always been romantic to me. I blame cheesy American movies where couples always kissed on them. You know we were talking about what romance is when I said I didn’t get snow fitting into that category?”
Ali nodded.
“It’s summer and a Ferris wheel for me.”
“What about a Ferris wheel in the snow?”
