One Christmas Morning & One Summer's Afternoon (10 page)

Laura’s eyes narrowed. For a moment all her old distrust of Gabe came rushing back. ‘How do you know all this? What do you know about Daniel’s finances and his motives?’

‘I know a lot. I didn’t trust him from the day I met him and I decided to check him out. Just because I’m a farmer doesn’t mean I’m a moron, you know. You don’t have to go to bloody Oxford to recognize a liar when you see one. It only took a couple of calls to discover his play was up shit creek. He hadn’t told you that, which got me thinking, “What else hasn’t he told her?” Turns out it was a fuck of a lot. He’d been after Tati for months, but she kept sodding off abroad with her rich lovers, giving him the slip. Last night he finally pinned her down.’

Literally
,
thought Laura.

Was it really true? Had Daniel really been using her from day one? She scanned Gabe’s face, searching for traces of insincerity, but found nothing.

‘Why?’ she asked him at last. ‘Why did you bother finding all this out? I mean, why did you even care?’

The question obviously angered him. ‘Because, you stupid bloody woman,’ he shouted, ‘I—’

‘Sorry to interrupt, guys.’ Eileen Carter, one of the St Hilda’s teachers, ran in, flapping her hands like a distressed bird. ‘But I need Laura. The first load of parents just arrived, Michael O’Brien’s got stage fright and is refusing to put on his wings, and I’m afraid to say our cellist, Mrs Kennedy, has had one too many glasses of mulled wine and has just been
extremely
rude to the bishop.’

‘You’d better go.’ Gabe’s face shut down like a mask. Laura didn’t know why, but she felt a surge of disappointment mingling with the nausea and nerves.

‘Yes.’

She followed Mrs Carter back into the hall. Everything else would have to wait for now. It was show time.

* * *

By the time the curtain went up and the Fittlescombe orchestra (minus one cellist) launched into the first, rousing strains of ‘Deck the Halls’,
St Hilda’s church hall was packed to the rafters. Parents, parishioners and villagers of all ages sat eagerly in the front rows, many of their faces known to Laura since childhood. Suddenly, last night and Daniel and all the bad things that had happened melted away. It had been a terrible year. But Laura was happy to be here, in this village, in this hall, surrounded by these kind, familiar faces. She belonged in Fittlescombe in a way that she had never belonged anywhere else. She was proud that it was
her
play,
her
work that the village had turned out to see on this cold, snowy Christmas Eve.

After yesterday’s disastrous dress rehearsal, Laura held her breath throughout most of the first act, but it went off without a hitch. The carols sounded magical, with George Monroe’s solo performance raising the hairs on everyone’s forearms with its purity and beauty. Even the reception infants did a terrific job, getting through ‘Away in a Manger’ without forgetting the words or having their wings fall off or needing to be taken to the loo. Act Two was where most of the drama came in. Laura had put her own stamp on the classic Nativity story by trying to give Mary and Joseph a more real, believable marriage. There was lots of dialogue between the two of them, and some banter that had worked well in rehearsals. But she was scared that, after last night’s break-up, the onstage spark between Gabe and Lisa might fall flat.

Again, for once, the gods were with her. With the lights and attention on her, and the whole village watching, Lisa James suddenly emerged from her cocoon like a gloriously unexpected butterfly. Before, it was Gabe who had got all the laughs. But tonight Lisa displayed a comic timing and pathos that Laura had never imagined her capable of.

‘She’s a real actress,’ she whispered admiringly to Harry Hotham backstage. ‘Who’d have thought it?’

‘She has wonderful material to work with, my dear. Not to mention a great director.’

Laura kissed Harry on the cheek. He was an incorrigible flirt, but his heart was in the right place. She realized she had grown quite fond of him.

Almost before she was aware of it, the final scene came to an end and the curtain came down to riotous, wild applause from the audience. As the orchestra struck up ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’,
the cast walked back on stage for their bows. First came the children, angelic and rosy-cheeked, flushed with their own success. Then the shepherds and kings. The innkeeper and King Herod, played by the local greengrocer and butcher respectively, got a huge cheer. And finally Gabe Baxter and Lisa James, hand in hand and smiling broadly, walked out for their encore.

In the wings, Laura was clapping and whooping as loudly as anyone when Lisa James suddenly marched over and dragged her out onto the stage.

‘Oh, no, really,’ Laura protested, aware of what a fright she must look. ‘No one wants to see me out there.’

‘Course they do. We all do,’ said Lisa.

And it was too late. With the spotlights blinding her, Laura stood awkwardly between Lisa and Gabe as the crowd roared their approval. Grabbing her hand, Gabe raised her arm, then pulled her down into a deep bow. As she bent over, the hairband holding back her tangled curls fell out, and Laura’s hair cascaded everywhere. To her utter horror, she realized too late that it wasn’t a hairband at all but a pair of knickers. She’d been in such a state this morning, she must have grabbed the closest thing to hand. She lunged forward to retrieve them but Gabe was too quick for her, snatching up the offending garment in a millisecond and stuffing it into his pocket. Then the curtain fell for a final time and the stage lights went down.

Hugging Laura warmly, Lisa James skipped off to join the rest of the cast in the dressing rooms, leaving Gabe and Laura alone.

‘Yours, I believe.’

He pulled the scrunched-up knickers out of his pocket with a grin.

Blushing furiously, Laura grabbed them from him. ‘It’s not funny.’

‘Of course it’s funny! It’s bloody hilarious.’

‘Do you think everybody saw?’

‘No! Not from that distance. It could have been anything, a scarf or a hankie or whatever. Anyway, who cares?’

I care
,
thought Laura. But she didn’t have the energy to fight about it.

‘We’re all going to The Fox to celebrate. Are you coming?’

Laura shook her head. ‘I’m wiped out. I’m going home to bed.’

‘Oh, come on, you can’t,’ said Gabe. ‘It’s Christmas Eve. You should be out having fun with all of us, not brooding at home on your own about arse-face.’

‘I won’t be brooding,’ Laura lied. ‘And I won’t be on my own. I’ve got Peggy.’

Gabe looked as if he were about to say something, then thought better of it.

‘Fine,’ he shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. You know where we are if you change your mind.’

* * *

Outside in the car park, Laura scraped the snow off her windscreen and was about to start the engine when a man tapped her on the shoulder.

‘Oh my goodness!’ she jumped. ‘You scared me.’

‘Sorry.’ The man smiled. He was tall and distinguished-looking, despite an ill-judged, holiday-themed sweater with a holly motif and a tiepin that flashed ‘Merry Christmas’
every few seconds. ‘I just wanted to say that was a terrific performance. I’ve been coming to the Nativities at Fittlescombe for the last fifteen years, but what you put together was in a league of its own.’

‘Oh. Thank you,’ said Laura, adding nervously, ‘It’s a good job you didn’t see it yesterday. It was a bloody disaster then, believe me. We all got covered in diarrhoea. Ha ha ha!’

For a moment the man looked startled, unsure what to say to this last unexpected revelation. Then he pulled out a business card and pressed it into Laura’s hand.

‘Yes, well, call me. I understand you’ve been working on a new script for television. I’d like to read it. And, er … Merry Christmas.’

The man walked off, rejoining a group of friends. Only when Laura got into her car, turned on the heating and the inside light, was she able to read the name on the card.

With all the drama about Daniel and Tatiana Flint-Hamilton, and the stress of tonight’s production, she’d totally forgotten that Graham Kenley was going to be in the audience.

He liked my play!

He wants to read my script!

My script? What am I talking about? I haven’t got a script.
She’d been so consumed with Daniel Smart and fantasies about their future together, Laura had barely typed a word in months.

Driving home far faster than she should have on the slippery, snowy back lanes, Laura burst into Briar Cottage, lit the fire, fed Peggy and sat straight down at her computer. All her earlier tiredness had gone. For the first time in months she felt alive creatively, energy and adrenaline coursing through her veins like an electrical current through a wire. She started to type, words flowing out of her like water from a spring. Once she started she couldn’t stop.

She was so engrossed that at first she didn’t hear the knocking. It was only Peggy’s barking that woke her from her reverie. Irritated, she got up and opened the door.

‘Hi.’

Daniel stood on the doorstep. He held a bunch of hand-tied red roses in one hand and a light-blue Tiffany box in the other. A light dusting of snow made his hair glisten. His teeth were perfectly white, and his handsome face flawless beneath the glow of the porch lamp.

‘Look, I know I’ve been an arse. A total arse. And I know I hurt you. But it’s you I want, not Tatiana. Can I come in?’

* * *

Five minutes later, sitting beside the fire listening to Daniel, Laura felt as if she were in a dream.

‘I’ll admit it,’ Daniel said. ‘I was blinded by her celebrity. And obviously, you know, she’s pretty.’

‘Obviously,’ said Laura.

‘But, as soon as I woke up this morning, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake.’

‘Why was that? Because she didn’t give you the money you needed to bail out your play?’

Even Daniel had the decency to look shamefaced.

‘Money
was
part of it. I’ve been under so much financial pressure, Laura, you don’t understand. But that wasn’t the only thing. I didn’t intend to fall in love with you. But I have, and last night made me realize that.’

‘Mmm hmm.’

Laura looked at Peggy, who made her feelings clear by farting loudly.
I agree
,
thought Laura. Daniel went on.

‘Tati flew to Kitzbühel a few hours ago. She’s got some rich bloke out there, evidently. But I don’t care. All I want is to be with you, here. To have Christmas together like we planned.’

‘But Daniel,’ Laura said slowly. ‘You dumped me in front of three hundred people. You slept with someone else.’

‘To be fair,’ said Daniel, taking Laura’s hand in his. ‘We hadn’t made a commitment to each other. You said as much yourself last night. We weren’t exclusive. But I’d like to be now. If you knew how much you mean to me Laura …’

With a jerk, Laura withdrew her hand, as if she’d been stung by a bee.

‘I know it’ll take time.’

‘Daniel?’ Laura said softly.

‘Yes?’ Daniel’s handsome face lit up with hope and expectation.

‘Get out of my house. Get out before I throw you out and never,
ever
,
come back.’

The loving look in his eyes soured like curdled milk. He stood up, slipping the Tiffany box back into his pocket and throwing the flowers down churlishly on the table.

‘Fine. If that’s how you feel.’

‘That’s how I feel.’

‘You’re making a big mistake you know, Laura,’ he said nastily. ‘It’s not as if you have so many other, better offers on the table.’

Laura sighed heavily. What had she ever, ever seen in him?

‘Fuck off, Daniel!’

With a slam of the door he did.

For a moment Laura stood rooted to the spot, listening to the roar of Daniel’s engine as he drove away. Then she laughed out loud. What a dickhead! What a total and utter dickhead. She contemplated going back to her writing, but the moment had been lost. On a whim, she put on her coat and boots and walked out into the snow.

She wasn’t sure where she was going. Not to The Fox. She wasn’t in the mood for socializing. She just felt a need to be outside and walking and
free
. Above her the dark night sky twinkled with stars, and the smoke smell from her own fire hung deliciously in the crisp air. The lane shone bright white with compacted snow, and all around the hedgerows and scenery were laden with thick frosting, a true winter wonderland. It wasn’t actually snowing at this moment and there was no wind, which made for a pleasant walk. After about a quarter of a mile, she was close enough to hear noise from the village and was on the point of turning back when a familiar voice startled her.

‘Laura? What are you doing out so late? Are you all right?’

Gabe Baxter loomed in front of her like a big, broad statue emerging suddenly from the darkness.

‘I’m fine. I just felt like a walk. I thought you were at the pub.’

‘I was for a bit.’ He came closer, so Laura could make out his features in the moonlight. The broad jaw, broken nose and mischievous eyes were the same as they’d always been, but something in Gabe’s expression was different. ‘But then I remembered I needed to do something.’

‘What did you need to do?’ asked Laura.

‘This.’

Grabbing her around the waist with both arms, he pulled her to him and kissed her, hard and strong and for a very, very long time. He smelled of whisky and stage make-up and his stubble felt rough and scratchy against Laura’s cheeks. This was nothing like kissing Daniel. Or John. Or anyone she’d ever kissed before. This was pure magic.

‘Come with me,’ he said, when at last they came up for air, grabbing her hand and leading her over to a stile at the side of the road. With his hands on her waist again, he lifted her over into the snowy field as if she weighed no more than a straw doll. Hidden from the road, but only a few feet back was a barn. Unbolting the door, Gabe pulled Laura inside.

‘Aren’t we trespassing?’ she giggled.

‘Nope. This is my land.’

Gabe pulled a torch out of his coat pocket and wedged it between two hay bales to give them a little light. Then, taking Laura’s face in his hands, he kissed her again, more gently this time. Removing his coat, he placed it over the straw. Then he rolled up his scarf as a pillow and, scooping Laura up into his arms like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold, laid her down gently on the makeshift bed.