What Happens At Christmas... (20 page)

‘Normally people turn the TV off, before they go out, not on.' Justin was smiling as he opened the door for her.

‘Stirling's been taking a keen interest in current affairs recently. I like to humour him.' She smiled at Justin. He was looking very handsome and very smart in a dark blue jacket and white shirt. ‘Bricklayer's Arms, here we come.'

The Bricklayer's Arms, while not the Tour d'Argent, was a very stylish place. Holly was surprised to find, inside the traditional Devon exterior, an ultramodern symphony of steel and glass, black and purple table cloths and limed oak flooring. The staff were all immaculately dressed in black, and the music of Santana was playing in the background.

‘Not a bricklayer in sight.' She gave Justin a smile as they were shown to a table in the corner, alongside a window looking out onto a floodlit Zen garden. Rugged lumps of granite dotted an expanse of immaculately-raked white gravel, the swirling shapes leading the eye away to a moss-covered wall at the far side.

‘Not quite what I was expecting from the outside.' She smiled across the table at him. ‘I really don't want this to sound condescending, but I didn't think places like this existed outside London.'

Justin smiled back. ‘Devon's not just pasties and cream teas, you know. Besides, this part of the moor has become very desirable over the past few years. Places like Chagford are popular with celebrities looking for an escape from the limelight. Look, there's that girl from local TV over there.' Holly followed his eyes and, sure enough, there was Dolores, wearing a very revealing dress, smiling and flirting with a grey-haired man across the table from her. ‘And, if I'm not mistaken, the old chap with her is whatsisname from that current affairs programme.'

‘Stirling would probably recognise him.' Holly felt really rather good to see Dolores with another man, rather than Jack. No sooner had she thought it, than it occurred to her that this was hardly a normal reaction for a girl out on a date with a man whose name wasn't Jack. Not, of course, that this was a date, although Jack had no way of knowing. Suppressing a sigh, she returned her full attention to Justin. He was grinning at her Stirling comment and he looked good, very good. She appraised him quietly. He was handsome, he was charming – although, all right, maybe a little bit old fashioned for her taste. He was successful and wealthy. He would have to be well-heeled to afford the prices in a place like this. Why on earth would she want to think about Jack Nelson when she was here with a man like Justin, with or without his hang-ups over his wife? Her musings were interrupted by a waiter with the menus. He asked if they would like an aperitif.

‘Have you got something non-alcoholic? I'd better be a good boy as I'm driving.' Justin looked across at Holly. ‘What about you, Holly? A champagne cocktail, maybe?'

That sounded really rather nice, but Holly decided to be good too. ‘I might have a drop of wine with my meal, but something non-alcoholic as a starter sounds great.' The waiter proposed the house special and left them to make their choice from the amazing menu.

‘This all looks fantastic, Justin. What do you recommend? Do you know this place well?'

‘This is the first time I've been here this year.' The smile had slipped from his face. ‘My wife and I used to come here quite often before.' His voice tailed off and Holly leapt in quickly, brandishing the menu.

‘You were right about the selection of fish dishes. Mackerel and seaweed salad with horseradish sounds amazing. Mind you, the Devon crab with Wasabi mayonnaise looks pretty good too.' She glanced across the table, pleased to see him looking less introspective. ‘Any advice?'

‘It's all good, I'm sure. If you like, we could start by sharing one of their seafood platters. You get all sorts of shellfish; that's if you like that sort of thing.'

‘I love that sort of thing. That's a great idea. And for my main course, I rather fancy the poached hake and honey-glazed baby parsnips.'

The waiter returned with their cocktails. These were served in huge globe-shaped glasses with a straw and looked more like fruit salad than something to drink. He took their order and left them to it. Justin raised his glass in his usual formal manner. ‘Your very good health, Holly.'

‘Thank you for asking me along.' By mutual consent, they didn't attempt to clink their glasses together for fear of sending pieces of orange, melon, strawberry or mint leaves onto the immaculate table cloth. Instead, Holly took a sip through the straw. It was… interesting; definitely fruity with a sharp lemony, maybe even peppery kick, but not a patch on a glass of chilled Sancerre. She set the drink down and looked at him. ‘So, what are you doing for Christmas, Justin?'

For a moment, his smile faded and Holly had a sudden thought. What if he was going to be on his own as well? She could hardly invite both men to join her for Christmas lunch. That would be a bit too bohemian, really. She suppressed a grin as she found herself wondering what Julia would think of that as a plan.

‘I'll be here till Christmas morning. I've been invited to Howard Redgrave's Christmas Eve Ball, though I doubt if I'll be going. You're going though, aren't you?' Holly nodded, vaguely wondering why he wasn't sure about going and if Jack had also been invited. If they both went, that, also, could develop into an interesting situation. She took comfort from the thought that Julia would be with her on that occasion and she could always be relied upon to put up effective covering fire. Justin took another sip of the fruit drink and grimaced. ‘Not so sure about the fruit cocktail.' He picked a piece of melon from the rim of the glass. ‘Still, it's one way to get our five a day.' He was looking more cheerful now. He carried on.

‘I've been invited over to my uncle and aunt's place in Taunton for Christmas lunch. I'm pretty close to them.' He caught her eye. ‘My parents emigrated to South Africa some years back and we only meet up once a year these days. It was my turn to fly over there this Christmas, but I've told them I'll go in February, when it's really cold and miserable here.' He smiled at Holly. ‘So I'll probably go to Taunton. They're very sweet, but they're getting on a bit now. Still, the least I can do is to spend Christmas with them. Of course, you never know, if the weathermen are right, we might just be snowed in and that would be a perfect excuse to stay put.'

Just then the wine waiter arrived to take their order. Justin had been looking at the wine list and he glanced across the table. ‘They've got a wonderful cellar here. I see they've got a Menetou Salon. I seem to remember you mentioning it as one of your favourites.' Holly nodded vigorously. He pointed it out to the waiter and the man went off. A waitress arrived with a basket of warm bread just as another brought appetisers. Each plate consisted of a shot glass full of green liquid, ringed by peeled prawns. The waitress set them down and then intoned respectfully.

‘Gazpacho with walnuts and seared cold water prawns.'

The meal was excellent and the wine as good as Holly had hoped. They chatted about all sorts of things until the conversation came round to Christmas again. Justin had just finished his sea bass and set down his fork. He took a mouthful of wine and looked across the table. Holly had stopped eating some minutes earlier, full up after attempting to eat a huge piece of hake. ‘This'll be the first Christmas without my wife. It feels strange.'

Holly finished her wine and he reached over to refill her glass. She looked doubtful, but he poured all the same. ‘I'm driving. You aren't. Besides, you said it's one of your favourites.'

‘Thanks, Justin.' She decided to bring the elephant in the room into the conversation. ‘So, do you still miss your wife?'

He was staring down at his plate. It was a while before he replied. ‘Yes, I do, Holly. I miss her a lot.'

Holly nodded to herself as his words reinforced his conviction that her role here tonight was not as his date, but as his counsellor. Feeling sorry for him in his obvious misery, she did her best to help. ‘So, Justin, do you still love her?'

Justin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘I've been asking myself that over and over again. When she left, she told me she didn't think she loved me any more.' After another long pause he eventually looked up and caught Holly's eye. ‘She didn't
think
she loved me? Is that a good enough reason to throw away ten years of happiness?' He hesitated, his eyes on the gravel lines in the Zen garden. ‘At least, for my part they were ten happy years.' He drained the remains of his wine and filled his glass with water from the jug. ‘To be totally honest, Holly, I don't know. I just don't know.' He might not know, but Holly did. It was written all over his face.

Just then the waiter arrived to clear the table and leave them the dessert menu. As Justin made to open it, Holly reached across the table and tapped his hand. ‘Nothing for me, Justin. I'm so full I think I'm going to explode.'

He dropped the menu and gave her a rueful smile. ‘I'm sorry, Holly. You didn't need to hear all that about me and my troubles. It's just that your dad was always a really good shoulder to cry on and you seem to have inherited his skills.'

Neither of them wanted dessert so he asked for the bill. Holly offered to split it with him, but he wouldn't hear of it. Outside, the air was cold, but not freezing. Maybe the expected snow was not on its way after all. They drove home in silence until they reached the village. As they came down the narrow lane past the green, Holly made an observation.

‘Maybe it's not too late, Justin. Why don't you try to see her, talk to her? Or have you already tried that?'

He slowed up and stopped outside her house. ‘I haven't seen her since February.'

‘What, not at all?' Holly was amazed. ‘Surely in a small community like this, you must have bumped into her sooner or later?'

He switched off the engine and half-turned towards her. ‘After a month or so of badgering her by text and email, and not getting any sense out of her, I thought I'd give her time to think things over, so I turned this year into a sort of gap year. I'm fortunate in that I've got some really good people running the business for me and they've been covering for me. I spent most of March and April in South Africa with my folks, came back in May, and then I went away for another few months this summer. I took the yacht down into the Med and I sailed all over the place; Spain, Italy, Greece, Turkey, all over. At the end of October, I left the boat in a marina in Cyprus, and she can stay there for the winter. Since I've been back here, I haven't been out much, haven't done much socialising. Howard Redgrave's Christmas Eve Ball would be just about my first outing for months.' He reached over and took her hand in his. ‘Thanks for listening, Holly. I'm sorry to have been so boring.'

‘Anything but, Justin. You don't need my advice but, if I were you, I'd talk to her.' She leant over and kissed him softly on the cheek and then unclipped her seat belt. ‘Now, I'd better get back to my four-legged friend. Good night, Justin and thank you.'

She watched the tail lights of the car disappear back up the road again and then opened the door. Stirling, already alerted to her return by his ears or his nose or both was standing just inside, wagging his tail furiously. She ruffled his ears and went over to the table, taking off her coat and holding it against her dress to stop the enthusiastic dog from messing it up. As she sat down, he sat down beside her and a large heavy paw landed on her lap. This was immediately followed by his other front paw and then the rest of him. After a struggle, during which she clung onto her protective jacket for dear life, she managed to persuade him to return to the floor. She patted him on the head.

‘Good dog, Stirling… eventually. So, have you had a good night?' There was a film on the TV pretty evidently taking place in outer space and, somehow, she doubted whether he had been very interested. She scratched his ears as she reflected on her day.

Since arriving here in Brookford less than a week ago, she had met and formed attachments with two handsome men – three if she included dear old Howard Redgrave. Now, as a result of their meeting earlier this evening, Jack thought she was in a relationship, or at least starting something, with Justin. Besides which, Jack didn't appear keen to take his own relationship with her any further. Justin pretty evidently was still hung up on his wife, and Howard Redgrave was a sweetie but over twice her age. The last remaining male in the village with whom she had any kind of emotional attachment was sitting on the floor at her feet, looking up at her with the sort of big brown eyes that, were they on a man, would have had female hearts breaking all around him. As it was, Holly knew deep down that she didn't want to be separated from him.

Yes, he was a good dog, apart from his habit of climbing on her. Yes, he was well-trained and great company for walks on the moor. Yes, it was great to have another being so clearly delighted to see her every time she came home. But there was more to it than that. This large lump of black hair, bone, muscle and bad breath was the closest remaining link she had to her father.

Thought of her father took her back to the letter she had read from him earlier. So he had finally found the courage to return to the family home in the hope of establishing contact with his long lost daughter. Unsurprisingly, her mother, after the pain she had suffered at his hands, had told him where to go. But the fact that she had not told her adult daughter about his visit stuck in Holly's throat.

The dog in the meantime had slid sideways onto the floor and was now upside down at her feet, all four paws in the air. She scratched his chest with the toe of her Alexander McQueen shoe and, for the first time, began to realise what else might have been underneath her mother's motivation. All her life, Holly had lived with the thought that her mother had kept her away from her father to protect her little girl from what she saw as his bad influence, but maybe there was another reason, too. Everything Holly had learnt about her father in the last few weeks pointed to the fact that he had been a charming, friendly, helpful, generous man. Suddenly Holly began to realise that her mother had most probably spent her life terrified lest this charismatic man, having wounded her so badly by leaving, might complete the job by taking her daughter from her. For the first time in her life, Holly now felt she had the full picture, and she finally understood the motivation of both of her parents. Her anger towards her mother was replaced by a feeling of sympathy.