Snow Angels, Secrets and Christmas Cake (20 page)

Y
ou’d think
I’d killed someone the way Sam went on – accusing me of telling outrageous lies in the school playground.

I mean I didn’t actually say that Sam was starring in the UK version of
Real Housewives
... I may have suggested that a TV company had approached her about a TV reality show about housewives set in Cheshire. The rest was just Chinese whispers set off by that blonde in the nasty pink boots. And as I said to Sam, ‘When one of those women in their faux designer snow jackets asked me if Orlando was a TV director, I may have been vague in my response.’

I told Sam it was a psychological experiment, but she said it was just an outrageous lie. I knew I was on dodgy ground, but when I saw how well Jacob’s hair cut had been received by his contemporaries I’d wanted to do the equivalent for Sam. And seeing those awful women hanging round the school gates looking for someone or something to gossip about I gave it to them.

‘It wasn’t malicious,’ I said. ‘It’s given them a purpose, something to get up for in the morning, a reason to put their stupid lipstick on.’ I’d known it wouldn’t take much to appeal to their fame-hungry hearts.

Sam needed some credibility in the playground, but her degree in education and talent for baking wouldn’t cut it with those women. They wanted the shallow glamour of TV, a wad of cash and their own fifteen minutes of fame. I knew this because I’d been just like that myself once, and when I climbed out of Orlando’s Aston Martin that first morning and heard one of them say ‘she looks like a woman off the TV,’ it inspired me.

‘It hasn’t done you any harm, I bet those women are hanging off your every word at the school gate,’ I pointed out to Sam.

‘Yes they are – and I hate it. I don’t want or need people around me like you do Tamsin. You’re the star of the show, you always have been – I’m happy to be in the wings watching. I hate the attention – and it’s all so fake anyway, they don’t like me they just think I can get them a part on “The Real Housewives of bloody Cheshire”.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t set out to tell lies and get you into all this, it just sort of happened and before I knew it was all around the playground and little kids were asking for my autograph,’ I said.

‘Oh I can imagine – I bet you put on quite a show, Tamsin.’

‘Well, I have been admired for my theatrical bent. I’m even thinking of joining the local Am Dram, though after last year’s Mikado it would be hard to top Orlando’s Yum-Yum.’

But she wasn’t interested in my thespian plans, she just kept banging on about how she was being harassed at the school gate by zombies.

‘Oh it’ll die down, you’re a seven-day wonder, love,’ I added and changed the subject to something about cakes. She was soon distracted.

I was secretly pleased. Sam wasn’t as cross as she would normally be about me ‘manipulating’ her life, as she always put it. Perhaps she was beginning to see that if she’d allowed me a little manipulation now and then she would benefit from it. I think she was also beginning to realise that my ‘interfering’ was because I only wanted the best for her. I didn’t always go about it the right way, but implying that she was about to star in her own reality show to stop her being bullied was definitely a step-up from threatening to beat up the girls at the school gate as I had when she was twelve.

She asked me to make it quite clear to the other women when I next saw them that it had all been a big lie.

‘Okay, I’ll say it was a misunderstanding,’ I said. ‘Lie is such a big word, Sam.’

She’d rolled her eyes. ‘They will see for themselves when the TV show doesn’t actually happen. You can call it what you like – either way I will look like a dick.’

‘Oh and I suppose turning up for school dressed like a hippy, doing wheelies on Jacob’s bike and starting snowball fights in the playground didn’t make you look “like a dick”?’

‘I’m me. I will always be me and whatever you do or say, you can’t change me,’ she snapped.

I suppose she was right. I had to begin to build my own life now and Sam needed her space. So I decided it was time to start my house-hunting with much more seriousness. I thought it might be worth taking a look at a few little cottages and an old schoolhouse that was up for rent, so called Gabe. I told him my plans and he offered to drive me round to the viewings in his truck, which was exactly what I was hoping he’d do.

I finished early in the bakery that afternoon; Sam and I had pretty much pulled an all-nighter to get those truffle orders ready and it almost killed us. It was nice to be out driving with Gabe, arriving at various houses, him linking arms with me as we strolled up pathways, opening doors and at one point putting his arm round me as we knocked on a door. People assumed we were a couple and neither of us bothered to say we weren’t – I think we both quite enjoyed it.

‘I think that woman thought we were runaway lovers,’ I said as we pulled away from a thatched cottage. It was beautiful inside and out but I knew I’d never be able to afford the monthly rent.

Gabe laughed. ‘Yeah, I reckon she thought you were the lady of the manor and you’d run off with one of the servants,’ he looked at me.

I felt a fizzing in my chest as I gazed back into his blue eyes.

‘How romantic, it’s like a film isn’t it? You and me, driving through the snow a few days before Christmas – looking for a home.’ I could imagine him in the bedroom of that cottage, stretched out on antique lace, holding onto the metal bedstead with one hand and me with the other.

He smiled and pulled up in the car park of a pub. ‘Come on, I’ll buy you supper,’ he said.

I was delighted. This was the end to a perfect day, being with Gabe made me feel happier than I had for a long time. He was attentive and kind and I felt like he really listened to me and didn’t view everything I said as an opportunity to mock me or make me feel small. Being with Gabe had made me realise how desperately unhappy and unloved I’d been with Simon. Gabe had no money and didn’t care about the future, he didn’t drink the best wine or eat in the finest restaurants – and that was all good with me. As we walked through the car park the snow seemed to be finally losing its grip on our world and in the silence you could hear it melting, trickling through the trees. It felt like a new beginning.

The pub had a welcoming glow about it and walking inside I tasted hops, laughter and warmth. I’d never been there before, I didn’t even know it existed, but I loved its old-fashioned red velvet seating and swirly red carpet – something I would have hated before. But here, with Gabe, everything just seemed to have more intensity, and when he came back to our table with drinks, I pulled him to me, kissing him passionately. I felt like my veins held fire, my whole being was alive and I finally had something to live for – a future on my terms. My past had been tough, but it had made me the woman I was – I could do anything, I was strong and independent. And I liked me so much more now.

‘‘So which house shall we have?’ I joked when our food arrived, a steak and kidney pudding for him, fish and chips for me. That afternoon I’d enjoyed playing at being a couple with him. It was a pipe dream, but I liked the idea of one day sharing my life with someone like Gabe.

I crunched on the beer-battered haddock, it was delicious – the chips were piping hot and salty, with lashings of tangy vinegar. A little grease trickled down my chin and Gabe wiped it off with his finger.

‘I never ate fish and chips in my other life,’ I said between mouthfuls, ‘too fattening... I didn’t know what I was missing.’ I didn’t want miniscule bits of foam or drizzles or smears of ridiculous food costing an arm and a leg any more. Now I was enjoying real food, real life – and I loved how it tasted.

‘So, what are you doing for Christmas?’ I asked. I wanted him to join us, in fact it wouldn’t be the same without him – for me. There would be lots of us at Sam’s on Christmas day, and one more wouldn’t make any difference – we had very little, but we would share it.

‘I won’t be here for Christmas,’ he said, finishing his food.

I was surprised, and disappointed.

‘Oh are you going to stay with family?’

‘No. I’m just going away for a while.’

‘A while? You mean days? Weeks?’

‘Who knows?’ he shrugged.

‘But where are you going?’ I swallowed the batter, suddenly it didn’t taste quite so good.

‘I’m going to find that beach...’

I smiled, remembering that when I’d asked him in another life where he hoped to be in five years’ time his answer had been, ‘on a beach.’ My eyes stung a little and for a moment I thought I might cry, but this was what he wanted and where he was going, I was going in my own direction now.

After we’d eaten we left, and walking through the now dark car park, the snow was melting so rapidly, huge drops of water, like tears were dripping onto the ground.

‘The world’s crying,’ I sighed.

He glanced over at me. ‘There’s a lot for the world to cry about.’

‘You’ve made me happy,’ I suddenly said, stopping to kiss him on the cheek. ‘I don’t know how I would have got through all this without you. I didn’t think it was possible, because no man has ever treated me as they should – until you, the last man on Earth I would have expected it from. Thank you.’

‘My pleasure,’ he smiled, opening my door to help me up into the truck.

‘When do you leave?’ I asked.

‘Tomorrow. An old mate of mine’s got a van – he’ll help with deliveries until Sam’s sorted the repairs.'

I was bereft, but grateful. I’d been so shocked at his leaving I hadn’t even thought about the practicalities. But how like him not to leave us in the lurch – Gabe was a reliable man you could depend on. And he’d changed me. When he’d thrown my designer shoes away he’d hurled all my pretentions and prejudices away too. He’d shown me what really mattered and I was heartbroken to see him go.

As we drove back I glanced at Gabe, thinking how I could have loved him. I could have moved into that little thatched cottage and lived happily ever after with him in that big double bed, but he wanted something different. And I’d learned that you can’t make people do stuff they don’t want to do – however much you want it yourself. Perhaps Gabe and I were just about the here and the now and the comfort of strangers? He had no plans for tomorrow or next week – he just lived in my life for a while and I’d loved him being there with me. Gabe was my Christmas angel and though I would be sad to say goodbye I knew, somewhere deep in my heart, that he’d always be around if I needed him.

W
hile Tamsin spent
a pleasant evening with Gabe, I was baking... and baking... and baking. My back ached, my legs ached, and I felt awful, but I kept on whisking and stirring and frosting – desperate to get us back to speed before Christmas and honour all those orders. Thank God Tamsin had refused to cancel them – and with the makeover and bakery re-opening, hopefully we’d soon be back on track. I was just grabbing a tray from the front of the shop when I spotted a figure walking down the hill. It was unusual to see anyone around at this time of night, especially during the week. I leaned against the door and gently put the bolt on, suddenly feeling very vulnerable alone at night in the shop. The figure drew nearer and in the dark it was hard to make out, but as he got closer I could see it was Richard. Just seeing him made my heart feel like it had stopped and I wanted to press my face against the bakery glass window to get a closer look at him. Fortunately, I realised just in time that from the outside my face pressed against the glass as he walked by would make me look like a crazed stalker and wasn’t going to make him love me again. So I just watched from the kitchen, out of view. I expected him to stop, glance in, look for me even – but he was just walking, his head down, past the bakery. My heart did a little unexpected skip and I couldn’t help it, I quickly unbolted the door and rushed out into the night calling his name. He turned, surprised to see me. I wanted to run and hug him, but his body language was definitely saying no.

‘Where are you off to in the snow at midnight?’ I asked in a light-hearted, jokey way.

‘Home,’ he said, with a faint smile.

‘Oh... have you been anywhere nice?’ I tried not to sound like an obsessed bunny boiler, but failed.

‘I... I’ve been out with Carole, it was her works do.’

‘Oh yes, I forgot it was this weekend (I hadn’t, I’d tortured myself for days imagining him swirling her round the damned office party). Was it good? Did you... have a good time?’ I pulled an inquisitive face, expecting more, desperately pretending to be okay with it but he offered me nothing.

‘Come inside, if you like?’ I said. Judging by his face perhaps the reconciliation with his ex wasn’t going too well.

‘Thanks,’ he came through the door, stamping his feet on the floor to get the snow off.

‘This looks good,’ he said, gazing round the ‘new’ bakery.

I explained about the makeover, showing him various little highlights – the glittering snowflakes hanging from the ceiling and the scarlet heart on the tree.

‘You okay?’ he suddenly said, with an intimacy I remembered.

‘Yeah, I’m okay.’

There was an awkward silence, I couldn’t ask about him and Carole, it was none of my business, but it was all I could think about.

‘Is Tam’s still here?’

‘Yes... she was the one who got Jacob to cut his hair.’

‘Good... about his haircut, I mean. It looks better short.’

‘Really? I wanted him to keep it long, I thought he did, too.’

‘He was teased mercilessly at school, Sam.’

I shrugged, feeling a little guilty I’d allowed it to go on so long. There was silence for a moment as we both looked at each other, unsure suddenly what to say. Then Richard spoke into the quiet. ‘What we had was good Sam, I loved you... still do.’

‘What about Carole?’

‘Oh we danced and we had a laugh and we’d both had a drink...’

‘You don’t have to tell me, it’s okay, it’s not my business...’ I couldn’t take the details it was too painful.

‘No, I want to tell you.’

I didn’t look up, I couldn’t let him see how much what he was saying was affecting me.

‘She wants to get back together...’

My heart was pumping wildly and my eyes were burning, I couldn’t cry in front of him, but the thought of losing him, the reality of Richard loving someone else completely floored me. I realised how much I needed him and how much I’d taken him for granted. I’d been an idiot, I should have seen what was in front of me, instead of putting obstacles in the way and being afraid of being happy. Steve wouldn’t have wanted me to live my life in the past, scared of the present and dreading the future.

‘I thought of Ella and being a family again and wondered if it might be worth giving it another try,’ he continued.

I nodded, unable to speak.

He was looking at me, searching my face for a response, but what could I say? Then he put his hand on my shoulder.

‘When she’d left me for that guy, all I wanted was for her to come back, to have everything as it was. But it’s too late – time apart has changed us both... and I’ve now got a Sam-sized gap in the middle of my heart.’

I was stunned. So all this had been leading up to him telling me that he wanted me back?

‘So you’re not with Carole?’ I asked.

‘No... I went to her works party, that’s all.’

‘But I thought you two were back together...’

‘No. Not while you’re here.’

Relief washed over me.

‘There’s a Richard-sized gap in my heart too,’ I said, wanting to cry.

I looked at his long eyelashes, the way he swept his fringe back off his face when he spoke and the way he laughed at my daft remarks. I remembered how he’d thought I was hilarious having snowball fights with the kids, doing 100 miles an hour on a sledge and wearing flip flops in the middle of winter. And I thought about the times he’d asked to be with me, for life, for Christmas – and every time I’d turned him down. But the time apart had been a revelation to me. It was only when I had faced life without him that I’d realised how much he gave me, how much he brought into my life and how I couldn’t live without him.

I locked the door, clicked the surviving fairy lights on and I suddenly had that Christmas tingle, the one you get when you’re a kid when you hear a carol or Santa’s bells. As an adult it’s more rare, more fleeting, and since growing up I only ever got my Christmas moment on the first hearing of ‘Once in Royal David’s City’, after that it usually disappeared until next year.

‘Come upstairs,’ I said, leading him through the shop to the flat.

I smiled, and put my finger to my lips to indicate people were asleep. I showed him into the tiny living room where we both sat on the sofa and watched him gazing around the living room.

‘I always loved this room... it’s so cosy,’ he said. ‘I see Jacob has been heavily involved in a new design and execution of the Christmas tree?’

Along with our original decorations, Jacob had added Lego characters and cars. ‘We were discussing which baubles we liked on the tree and he wasn’t sure about the ones I’d rescued from my own childhood Christmases. So I asked him what he thought he would remember about Christmas when he was older, he said Lego,’ I nodded.

‘Christmas is different things to different people,’ Richard said, looking sad. I wondered if, for a moment when he had his evening with Carole he’d hoped to have a family Christmas with her and Ella again.

I reached my hand to touch his face. ‘I’ve been stupid, too obsessed with what I’d lost and couldn’t see what I had.’

He put both his arms around me and I decided now was the time to be completely honest with him. I owed it to him to explain why I’d been unable to commit – and if I wanted to keep him in my life and have a future with him and Jacob, he deserved to know the truth...

‘The night Steve died, my last words to him were “don’t come back”,’ I began. ‘I’ve never told anyone that before... not even Tamsin. I’m too ashamed.’

He brushed my cheek with his hand; ‘Tell me.’

‘It had been a stupid row,’ I continued. ‘We were both working, had a new baby, we were tired and our lives had been turned upside down by this little thing that demanded every moment of our attention. We were both adjusting to our new roles – but sometimes I felt like Steve forgot he was a dad. It was Jacob’s first Christmas and Steve had invited some friends over, but I wanted to relax and sleep and just spend time together, our first family Christmas. He didn’t get that – he didn’t see the problem in inviting people over to celebrate with us and I became angry. I shouted, said cruel things to him and he stormed off. The snow was coming down hard, the roads were icy, and when a car skidded onto the pavement he was killed instantly.’

‘Sam, you can’t blame yourself for what happened to Steve.’

‘But he died, alone on the side of the road thinking I didn’t love him...’ I started to cry. For five years I’d carried the guilt of my husband’s death around with me. Like a terrible Christmas gift, kept in the back of the wardrobe to be taken out and unwrapped each December. Then every Christmas Eve, the anniversary of his death, I would open up that parcel and wallow in the pain and the guilt all over again.

‘You’ve never talked about that night before,’ he said.

‘I know, I never felt able to until now – with you. If I’d just said yes to his friends, agreed with what he wanted, then he wouldn’t have stormed out – he would still be alive.’

‘You can’t live the rest of your life saying “what if” and blaming yourself for something that may or may not have happened in the past. It’s time to let it go, Sam...’

We lay together in front of the fire, both lost in our own thoughts. After a while, I reached up to his face, the tips of my fingers exploring the stubble of his chin. It felt good – prickly and male. I moved closer to him feeling the warmth from his body, he smelt of Richard – outdoors, wet bracken and winter walks. I breathed him in and my heart quickened. We held each other’s eyes and in that instant we both knew what would happen next.

As we kissed and quickly began to take each other’s clothes off he stopped and stared at me like I was something very special, precious even. He kissed and caressed me and his gentleness surprised me as it had the very first time. Sex with him was slow and loving and different to anything I had ever experienced before. He looked into my eyes and told me I was beautiful as we lay together naked on the floor.

‘Before we go any further, can I just ask, this isn’t just a showmance for your Housewives of Cheshire audition, is it?’ he smiled.

I nodded. ‘You guessed it – come here, let’s make great telly.’

We giggled and cuddled and I’ve never felt so close to anyone as we lay by the crackling fire, the lights from the Christmas tree twinkling, the snow finally melting along with my heart.

T
he following morning
I spoke to Tamsin about her lies at the school gate. We needed to get this sorted, I didn’t want to relive a scene from ‘The Night of the Living Dead,’ every time I took Jacob to school. ‘They were pawing at me...’ I said.

‘I’m sorry, Sam, I couldn’t bear to see the way those bitches ignored you. I’m just very protective of those I love.’

‘So are pit bulls.’

‘You’re worth ten of those women – who are they to look down on you?’

‘Exactly. They are nothing – it means nothing. And their opinion of me is nothing – so don’t sweat it, Tam. I don’t.’

‘You’re right of course,’ she said in a small voice. The new Tamsin was the gift that kept on giving, I couldn’t believe how tolerant she’d become.

‘I cared too much about what other people thought didn’t I? And in the end what did it matter?’

I agreed. ‘So what exactly did you tell the Yummy Mummies?’

She looked away, unable to meet my eyes. ‘I told them that as the star, you’d been asked to choose several women from the school playground to star alongside you and be your reality TV ‘friends.’

I gasped, but couldn’t help smiling at her sheer front. ‘You are so bad, Tamsin.’

‘I know, I’m so naughty. But allow me one last glorious moment? Let Orlando have his grand finale,’ she said, smiling. ‘Let me to take Jacob to school tomorrow. I’ll tell them the TV company said none of them were interesting enough.’

I couldn’t be too cross with her because I was happy. I excitedly told her about getting back with Richard and then at the same time felt awful when she told me Gabe had gone away.

‘Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry,’ I sighed, putting my arm around her. She was dressed in one of her ridiculous Doris Day pinafores but looked like a lost little girl.

‘I’m okay, Sam, really. I had become quite used to him being around – but I’ll be fine,’ she smiled a wistful smile. ‘He says he’s looking for a beach. I hope he finds it.’

‘Will you be okay?’ I asked.

‘Of course. It will be a relief to be single. I spent last Christmas imagining Simon in flagrante with the woman from the wine warehouse. How random was that? Mrs J never saw that in my tea leaves.’

I laughed, a little uneasily. Now I was privy to some of the school conversations, I’d heard that Simon had been quite the ladies’ man.

‘And this year was going to be the same,’ she sighed. ‘Simon’s strange behaviour was worrying me even more than the white fur and crystal table-scape. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there were the hushed phone calls, even more late nights at the office. Phaedra said it was an affair, ‘text book,’ she’d said. Anouska insisted it wasn’t, but what would she know? She’d been in denial for months about her own husband, until she found him face down in Angela Huntington-Whitely. But Simon’s behaviour hadn’t been about another woman - it had been all about money,’ she said, sipping her tea.

I hoped she was right.

‘I don’t miss Simon, but I do miss hosting parties, especially this time of year. I loved planning the table, the decor, feeding people, making them happy, choosing the music – it’s just so much fun... it’s Christmas to me. Do you know what I mean?’

‘Yeah it’s your thing, and you do it so well, it’s a shame you can’t do it this year, perhaps by next year?’ I said.

She shook her head. ‘I doubt it, love, I don’t even have my own place to live!’

‘Mi casa es su casa,’ I said, squeezing her arm. We were working side by side in the kitchen and I was high on the scent of cinnamon and vanilla.

Tamsin was missing the limelight, she loved being the centre of attention, the ‘go-to’ girl for everyone’s needs, and everyone’s good time.

‘Tonight would have been my Christmas soiree,’ she sighed. ‘I so loved that – dressing the house, choosing the canapés, the people...’