Emily was sitting outside the pub with a glass of wine, watching the snow gently fall over the village green when Alan Rowe appeared beside her.
‘This seat free?’ he asked, pulling out a chair beside her, then waiting for a few polite seconds until she smiled and told him to sit down. Above them, the snow pattered gently on the parasols Skip had erected on the pavement in front of the pub, sheltering a dozen tired planners from the falling snow. Behind her, a large paraffin heater provided warmth to the back of Emily’s legs, a blanket to the front. A couple of dozen other people were still inside the pub, making a day of it, but Emily was exhausted. She hadn’t realised how much being a leader would take out of her.
‘You’ve done a brilliant job,’ Alan said. ‘I think people are hoping you’ll come and live here in Cottonwood.’
She smiled. ‘It’s a pleasant enough place. Perhaps I’ll get a summer house. You can show me a few of the local footpaths.’
‘It would be my pleasure.’ He held her gaze for a few seconds before looking away. Emily thought she saw a hint of a blush beneath the upper part of his beard, but it could easily have been the pint he was halfway through.
‘Seriously,’ he said, taking a moment before he looked back at her, ‘it’s like you’ve woken the village up. It used to be like this, you know. Always a friendly face in the pub or sitting over on the green. Then, we all went to sleep….’
‘I’m happy to have made a difference. It’ll take a lot of hard work to pull it all off, though.’
‘It was a stroke of genius doing it as a charity event.’
‘It makes it harder for Trower to shut down. Particularly as the county council has granted permission.’
‘How did you pull that off?’
‘Trower’s not the only one with friends on the council. Although, to be fair, I’m trading off my grandmother’s favours. She did more for our community than anyone. She funded a refurbishment of the public toilets, donated a patch of land to be made into a community space, and was the chairperson for our local parish council. She supervised local litter-picking events, organised the neighbourhood watch, arranged free daycare for low-income families with children … honestly, when I look back now, I wonder when she slept.’
‘And she taught you how to organise things?’
Emily shook her head. ‘I didn’t realise it at the time, but I suppose she must have done. Mostly, she would leave me in charge of the teahouse while she was off doing community events. I never felt in charge, but now that she’s gone … it feels natural. She taught me by letting me learn by myself.’
‘The best way,’ Alan said. ‘I wish I could organise things the way you do.’
Emily smiled. ‘I think you do all right. You run a farm while raising two wonderful children. It must have been hard, you know, after your wife….’
Alan nodded. ‘There were days I couldn’t go on,’ he said quietly. ‘But then I looked at their faces and I went on. Because you have to, don’t you?’
Emily nodded. ‘That’s right.’
‘But let’s not be too morose, shall we? You have to think forward, and our forward is creating a wonderful Christmas carnival.’
Emily laughed. ‘That will also pay for a refurbishment of the village hall. Are you clear on what you need to do tomorrow?’
Alan held up his fingers. ‘Help the council lads clear that big pine on the edge of the car park of weeds and give it a trim. Then, get some ladders up and get it decorated.’
‘Perfect. That’s our tree sorted.’
‘Then get the snowplow out and clear the roads, making sure to leave a big pile in front of a certain party pooper’s drive.’
‘Good job.’
‘He’ll still be able to get out, though. We can’t lock him up. What are we going to do if he starts on one of his sabotage missions? I mean, despite causing a bit of trouble and costing a bit of money, it’s mostly been harmless, but what if he ramps it up a level?’
‘I’m going to talk to him tomorrow,’ Emily said, remembering her conversation from this afternoon with Liselle. ‘I’m sure by now he’ll want to kick me out, but that won’t make any difference. I’ve had five people just this afternoon offer me a place to stay if he does.’
‘Make that six,’ Alan said. ‘We have a ton of space. Before Katherine died, we also ran a B&B. However, Lily might wear you out.’
‘She’s a great kid,’ Emily said. The idea of moving in with a family as warm and welcoming as the Rowe’s made her feel … she smiled and shook her head. ‘They’re both great kids,’ she added, her words falling over themselves a little too quickly. ‘When they’re old enough for summer jobs, send them my way.’
Alan gave her an awkward smile. ‘So … you’re going to open up the teahouse again, are you?’
Emily frowned. She hadn’t thought about it, but the words had popped out as though there could be no other option.
‘I’m still thinking about it,’ she said. ‘Maybe.’
Alan looked down at his fingers for a moment before looking up. ‘I, um, don’t think anyone would mind if you decided to open another one right here in Cottonwood. The kids and me … we’d be there on opening day.’
She kept it to just one glass of wine before bidding goodnight to Alan and whoever was left in the pub. She stumbled back to her holiday let, got a fire going, and then lay on the sofa for a while, thinking over the day’s events. The villagers had totally rallied around her, and plans for the Christmas carnival were flying ahead at full speed. It was set to be an epic event, but there was an underlying concern which wouldn’t go away.
Nathan.
She knew she had to confront him again, because it was impossible that he wouldn’t find out about the carnival. Like a dictator thrown from power, he wouldn’t go easily into the night, but this wasn’t war, this was Christmas. She didn’t want him exiled, barricaded into his house by a mound of snow. He might have deprived the village of Christmas for the past two years, but if ever there was a season for forgiveness and reintegration, this was it.
Whether he was interested was another matter.
She waited until the fire had died down, then went back into the kitchen and washed up her glass. Before going up to bed, she went out into the garden and stood for a couple of minutes, listening carefully. At first, all she heard was the gentle pattering of the snow, now nearly ten centimetres deep, but finally, over the top, she heard it: the whine of a quad-copter’s propellers.
The drone was up there somewhere, watching over the village. Nathan, perhaps gleefully sat at a computer screen and searching for lights in the night, was watching. The sound increased as the drone came closer, and Emily got the distinct impression it was hanging in the sky right overhead, its camera looking down at her garden.
Uprooted by the unnecessary excavations, the lights were out. Tonight, Nathan would be satisfied. But tomorrow … preparations for the Christmas carnival began in earnest. He would surely know. The snow was about to hit the fan in a big way, and Emily felt a tickle of nerves, wondering how he would react.
After a two-year absence, Christmas was returning to Cottonwood. Emily’s biggest fear, though, was that Krampus would also show up to ruin it.