What Happens At Christmas... (21 page)

‘Life's not easy, is it, Stirling?' She thought of her mother, living her whole life in fear of losing the one thing that was dearest to her. She thought of Justin still pining for his wife after her inexplicable departure and she thought of Howard Redgrave, heartbroken since the death of his wife of forty years. She thought of Jack and wondered yet again what it might be that was troubling him and how she could help. She prodded the dog. ‘I said, life's not easy, is it?'

He looked up at her and his eyes said it all. He was warm, he was well fed, he was loved and, any minute now, once his mistress changed out of those ridiculous high heels, he was going for a walk. For a moment, Holly thought she saw him grin. She reached down with her hand and caught his face in her fingers, the decision now made. She really loved this big animal, for himself and, most of all, for her father.

‘Well, one thing's for sure, Stirling. I'm not letting you go. It's you and me, dog, best friends forever. Stirling and Holly against the world. All right with you?' She wasn't too sure how she was going to arrange this, but she would make it happen.

Day Seven

Thursday

Holly was late going to bed, having spent several hours reading the last of her father's letters. All bar one. She had decided to keep his last ever message to her until another day, when she could fully take it in. By the time she went to bed, she felt emotionally drained. These letters told of his life in Brookford, his renewed friendship with old acquaintances, among them Howard Redgrave, but underlying all the tales of cricket victories, tennis matches, dinners and dances, the grief he still felt for his dear dead childhood sweetheart shone through. Alongside this was his bitter disappointment at not seeing his beloved Holly. In his more pragmatic moments, he questioned whether her mother would even have told her of his visit, let alone passed on his letter and his gift. In his more dejected moments, he lamented the fact that he had to accept that his only child, his dearest Holly, hated him and never wanted to see him again.

It was still dry outside and the temperature was dropping. Together with the dog, Holly climbed up to the top of the big hill above the village, and for the first time saw the strange rocky outcrop that gave its name to the hill – the Laughing Man. It took her some time, and she had to walk all the way round the tor a few times before she got it. Squinting at the rock against the orange glow of the early dawn, she finally made out a forehead, a nose and a mouth with a definite upward turn to the edges. As the sun rose above the horizon, the smile turned into a grin and she found herself smiling back at the wind sculpture.

The view from up there was terrific and she took some photos of the village with her phone. Everything was visible, laid out like a model, from Howard's Castle hotel and its golf course to the church, her own house, the pub, the green and a large grey stone house where she knew Justin lived, all on his own now that his wife had left him. The sunlight cast shadows alongside all the maze of drystone walls, reinforcing the chequerboard effect. These photos would provide great memories for her when she left the village and returned to London. Of course, she told herself as she and the dog walked back down the slippery path through the ferns, that would depend upon whether or not she decided to return to London. Up here on the moor, in the first light of dawn, she leant against a boulder and found herself seriously considering her future.

The money her father had left her, plus the proceeds from selling her flat in London, if that was what she decided to do, would make her financially independent. She felt confident that her employers would rather agree to let her work from down here than lose her, but even if they didn't, she knew she could find another firm that would. So there was nothing to stop her moving to Devon and establishing herself in Brookford. There was nobody in London, except maybe Julia, to keep her there, but what about Brookford? And, when she really admitted it to herself, what about Jack? She had known him for less than a week and, yet had already broken her three dates rule. Could it be she was coming round to believing in relationships?

She had never been to an analyst, but she was sensible enough to recognise that she had been carrying round some pretty complicated emotional baggage for most of her life. Her father's departure, she now realised, had deprived her of a person she had loved from the bottom of her heart. His apparent abandonment of her had scarred her to the extent that she had shied away from anything that could risk hurting her in the same way ever again. No long-term commitment meant no deep feelings, no love to be lost, and so no danger of more emotional torment, The fact that she was now actively looking forward to a deeper relationship with Jack had, in some way, to be linked to what she had discovered about her father. Desperate as the results had been for her and her mother, he had chosen the path of true love and it was only now that she could see things from his point of view. She thought back to her A-levels. Amor vincit omnia, love conquers all; the trouble, as with all conquests however, being the collateral damage. Even so, she knew she was ready to try now. Ironically, where Jack was concerned, the problem was not with her for once; the problem was with him. She shook her head to clear it and looked down at the dog.

‘This love business isn't so easy, is it, Stirling?'

He wagged his tail.

After a shower and a change, Holly sat down to have some breakfast. As she was eating, her phone rang. It was Julia.

‘Hi, Jules, how's it going?'

‘Fine, thanks. I was just ringing to ask if there's anything you need me to bring from the big city? I could pop into Harrods and pick up some Beluga or foie gras, or if you want me to get you some sexy underwear for Range Rover man, just say the word.'

‘None of that'll be necessary, thanks. There's a small change of plan though, if your folks don't mind.' Holly went on to explain about her having discovered that Jack would be on his own for Christmas lunch and to ask if Julia's parents would mind if she didn't after all have lunch with them.

‘Absolutely no problem, Hol. So, does this mean I might have to buy you some sexy underwear for Land Rover man as well?'

‘I'm all right for underwear, Jules, but thanks for the thought. As for food, somehow, I don't think we're going to run short of food and drink. Just bring yourself, sweetie.'

‘All right, if you're sure. I'll see you at Exeter St David's at 12.56 tomorrow, Great Western Railways permitting.'

‘See you Jules.'

‘And you. Give both your hunky men a kiss from me.'

Holly put the phone down, reflecting that she was unlikely to be kissing either of her hunky men any time soon; one because of residual feelings for his wife and the other for some unfathomable reason. To take her mind off such things, she switched on the TV just as the weather girl was repeating the weather warning for snow in the West Country around Christmas. Holly glanced out of the window at the cloudless sky and wondered if they had got it right this time. If so, getting about wasn't going to be easy; not without a Land Rover at least. Thought of Land Rovers brought her thoughts straight back to her neighbour, so she turned off the television and looked round for something else to occupy her mind.

She decided to concentrate on decorating the house. First, she went out to the shed in the back garden and located a large pot. She wedged the Christmas tree into the pot and filled it with compost from a sack, tamping it down well so that the tree stood upright. She bent her knees and crouched down to lift it and very quickly realised she would have done better to fill the pot once it was in place in the house. She couldn't even shift it off the ground, let alone carry it inside. She was scouting round for a trolley of some kind when there was a tapping noise. She looked across at Jack's kitchen window in time to see it open. Evidently he had spotted her and realised her predicament.

‘Do I spy a maiden in distress?' He looked happy to see her.

‘It's not quite like that.' She was definitely pleased to see him.

‘Is that the distress part or the maiden part?'

She smiled at him. ‘I'm not so much distressed as annoyed with myself for committing such a schoolgirl error. I'm an engineer for crying out loud.'

‘Help is at hand, fair maiden. I'll be right with you.' Sure enough, a minute later, he appeared round the side of the house, vaulted over the dividing wall and came over to help. ‘You take one side and I'll take the other?'

‘I thought a fit, strong man like you would just tuck it under your arm.'

‘The trick to staying fit and strong is not to do too much heavy lifting. Come on, grab hold and lift with the knees.' Between the two of them they made short work of bringing the tree indoors and positioning it in the corner. As they did so, both of them were severely hampered by Stirling who was delighted to see Jack again. Holly found that she was too.

She straightened up and went over to close the back door. ‘Coffee?'

‘Love some, if I'm not stopping you working.' She went over to the worktop and pulled out her father's old Moka machine. Jack followed her over and watched as she unscrewed the bottom part, filled it with water, measured out the coffee into the filter and screwed it back together again. As she put it on the hob, she looked up at him. ‘I've got an amazing Gaggia machine back in London, but the coffee this one makes is almost as good. It just doesn't do the frothy milk.'

‘I prefer mine black anyway.' He looked back at her and an expression of concern crossed his face. ‘What's up? I've seen you in your pyjamas, I've found you smelling like a Labrador, and even fairly tipsy on good wine, but you're definitely looking bothered today. What's the matter, gorgeous?'

Holly gave him a weak smile. ‘I'm not feeling very gorgeous. I spent most of last night reading letters written to me by my father.' He raised his eyebrows and she went on to explain about the box of letters she had found, ending with her father's visit to her mother's house in Cheltenham. ‘So he really did try to contact me, and my mum sent him away without telling me.' Her eyes were stinging once more. ‘I was twenty-six, Jack. She should have told me. It broke my dad's heart.'

He gave her a look of sympathy. ‘It didn't, Holly.' His voice was low. ‘His heart was already broken.'

‘Lynda?'

‘Lynda. He never recovered from her death. I thought I knew a good deal about heartbreak, but I've never come across such devotion. It was almost Shakespearian in its intensity. Seeing you would have helped, but the damage was already done.' He sat down at the table and gently dissuaded Stirling from climbing onto his lap. ‘For such a kind, good man, life dealt him a pretty crappy hand.'

‘Or maybe he played a good hand badly.' Holly was still wondering what he had meant by his heartbreak remark when the coffee pot started bubbling. Glad to be able to change the subject, she counted up to ten and then removed it from the heat, setting it on the table. ‘Biscuit?'

The man and the Labrador both looked up with interest and she found herself smiling again. ‘I've got some chocolate ones in the fridge. And Stirling can have another one of his biscuits. It is Christmas, after all.'

‘Talking of Christmas, I have to ask a big favour of you.' She looked across at him as he explained. ‘Having insisted that Christmas lunch be at my place, I just found out ten minutes ago that there's a problem with that. I called the electrical spares place in Exeter about the part I've been expecting for my cooker and it won't be in till after Christmas. So, until then, the hob works, but the oven doesn't. Unless you fancy raw turkey, I'll need to use your oven and, at that point, it might be better if I take you up on your kind invitation to have Christmas over here.'

‘Of course, Jack. No problem.'

‘Great. Now, I've got a socking great turkey, a dozen sausages, loads of spuds, Brussels sprouts, onions.' He ticked the items off on his fingers. ‘Carrots, peas, cauliflower, cranberry jelly, crackers, champagne, beer and wine. I haven't got round to the pudding yet.'

‘Then leave the pudding to me. I'm going into Exeter tomorrow to pick up Julia and do some shopping. I can drop into Marks and Spencer and buy one. And I'll get some cream, some cheese, and a Christmas cake for the afternoon.' She handed him the pack of biscuits and took one of the dog biscuits out of its packet for Stirling. ‘Anything we've forgotten?'

‘Snow shoes, maybe?'

‘I just saw that on the TV. They still saying it's going to snow.'

He nodded. ‘I've been tracking it on the radar. What're we today, Thursday? Well, they reckon it should hit us late on Saturday and by Sunday, Christmas Day, they're talking about potentially a foot of snow up here.'

‘Oh dear, I hope that doesn't mess up Howard's party.'

Jack shook his head. ‘That should be okay. The Castle's on the main road and they normally clear that straight away. And as far as down here's concerned, you'll have the chance to see the advantages of a scruffy old Land Rover over a shiny red Porsche. We'll be fine.' He glanced up, a more serious look in his eyes. ‘And Justin's got the Range Rover anyway. They're designed for those sorts of conditions.'

Holly tried to think of a way of telling Jack there was nothing going on between her and Justin while still sounding casual, but nothing came to mind, so she poured the coffee. A practical thought occurred to her. ‘How big is the turkey? Is it going to fit in my oven?' He got up and went across to the cooker, crouched down on his heels and opened it up.

‘No worries, and we should even have room for the roast potatoes, too.' He looked back over his shoulder at her and she hastily shifted her eyes from his bottom to his face. ‘Might not have space for the cauliflower cheese, though.'