Gingerbread was once a status symbol. When spices were prohibitively expensive, serving up lavishly spiced gingerbread was seen as a way of demonstrating wealth and affluence.
The whole world falls in on itself.
There are tears in my eyes before I’ve had a chance to process the sentence. ‘You?’ I splutter out. It would have been indecipherable had it been more than one word.
‘No,’ Joss says. ‘No, no, no, no, no. Not in that way.’
This time, I know he’s lying. ‘You?’ I demand again.
He lets out a long sigh. ‘Yes. Me. But things have changed. It isn’t as bad as it sounds. I’m not still going to do it, obviously.’
I take a step backwards like hearing that simple ‘yes’ was a physical blow. It’s too much to process. ‘The people who are tearing down Mistletoe Gardens are Hallissey Construction?’
His silence is an answer in itself.
‘But you’ve helped,’ I say more to myself than to him, feeling lost in a swirling sea of thoughts that don’t make sense. ‘You even got your lads to help. Why would you do that? Why would you do all this? Why would you help us save Mistletoe Gardens when you knew we were trying to save it from you?’
‘I don’t know.’ He shoves his hands into his pockets without looking at me. ‘I wasn’t going to get involved.’
‘Involved?’ I’ve clearly inherited my mother’s screechiness without realising it.
‘I didn’t think it would do any harm. I was just going to give you a bit of advice, but then I got here and measured up and I wanted to carry on. And you, Essie. God, you. With every gingerbread brick we’ve put up, you’ve pulled bricks out of my walls. I’ve fallen for you more every day. Do you honestly think I meant for this to happen?’
‘I don’t know what you did or didn’t mean. How can anything you’ve said be true? You don’t want to save the thing we’re trying to save – you are the thing that’s going to destroy it.’
‘I wanted to tell you – I just didn’t know how. I’ve been wanting to get out of doing the job, but I needed to make sure my lads would be okay when the company was sold.’
‘The “one last job”.’ I suddenly realise what he means and it makes it even worse somehow. ‘The “one last job” you’ve talked about having in January. This is what that is?’
He doesn’t give so much as a nod, but he doesn’t need to.
I scoff at myself, annoyed at my own stupidity. ‘You’ve told me about it without actually telling me. How can you have sat there and talked about this important job you had coming up without mentioning it was to tear down Mistletoe Gardens?’ I shake my head at myself, at him, at anyone. It seems like a moment for head shaking. ‘What were you thinking? What are you thinking? How did you think I wouldn’t find out? How could you say everything you’ve just said while knowing that you are the one who’s destroying what we’re trying to save?’
‘I hated this town, Essie. I didn’t care. I didn’t understand that Mistletoe Gardens was important to people. Since I took over Hallissey Construction, I’ve done every job that was asked of me without stopping to think about anything other than the paycheque at the end. You’ve changed that. You’ve made me care again. You’ve made me want to do work that matters to people.’
‘This gingerbread house matters to me. I thought it mattered to you as well.’
‘It does.’
‘Right, so will you personally be driving the JCB that pulls it down in January, some sort of sadistic satisfaction like a gingerbread-scented game of Jenga when it topples, or will you keep an emotional distance by delegating that job to one of your lads?’
‘I told you Hallissey Construction is being absorbed by a larger company. The housing firm who are putting in the apartment blocks. To sell my company and ensure my lads have jobs to go back to, I have to do this.’
‘Oh, it just gets better. Not only are you tearing down Mistletoe Gardens, you’re cosying up with the people who are putting up soulless tower blocks on top of it.’
‘I’ll be gone by then.’
‘Oh, that’s okay then. Wash your hands of all responsibility? This has been nothing but a game to you? Playing with gingerbread to amuse yourself while business was slow in December?’
‘No, of course not.’
I don’t know when Mum let go of my wrist, but I have full control of both arms again, and while I’d quite like to use them to punch Joss, I force myself to turn away and take deep breaths. My voice hasn’t lowered since the revelation, and outside the hedge surrounding Mistletoe Gardens, the first shoppers are starting to venture into town. There’s no way everyone isn’t going to know about this before the clock on the town hall strikes ten anyway – I don’t need anyone getting a head start on the gossip.
Joss is still in the bandstand and I’m at the bottom of the steps, looking up at him. ‘You knew from the very beginning? From that day in the swimming baths? Why the hell didn’t you say, “You know what, I can’t help you because actually there’s a conflict of interests here. Goodbye, good luck”?’
‘Because I liked you. You’re… magnetic. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I came into the bakery the next day and I was going to tell you that bricks were what you needed, but then I’d agreed to help before I realised what was happening. I thought we’d meet in the park, I’d give you some measurements and that would be that, no further involvement, and then… there was that magnetism again. I couldn’t tear myself away. And I meant what I said.’ He gestures to the gingerbread house. ‘This small-scale creative work is my favourite thing in the world. I loved every minute – because of it and because of you.’
‘This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Two minutes ago, I was kissing you. We were ecstatically happy.’ My voice is rising again and I force myself to suck in a breath. ‘Talk about keeping your enemies close. I suppose Mistletoe Gardens is just another thing the council wants removed without anyone knowing about it? Just another “legitimate employment” for Mervyn’s favourite lapdog?’
Mervyn’s appeared in the doorway of the gingerbread house, and he holds his hands up like he doesn’t want to be dragged into it.
‘I’m sorry.’ Joss’s jaw clenches. ‘This was never meant to go as far as it did. Essie, I’m not going to take this job. I’m on your side now.’
I laugh so sharply that I set my own teeth on edge. ‘This isn’t about the job now. It’s about the fact you haven’t been honest since the moment we met. The only true thing you’ve said to me is on that first day when you said you didn’t care if they buried Mistletoe Gardens. Or, more specifically, if you buried it.’
‘Ess, that’s not…’ He trails off, probably unable to finish any sentence that isn’t a total falsehood.
I expect there to be a satisfied look on Mum’s face, but she looks pained, and a queue is forming outside the gate, children waiting to see Santa, who will undoubtedly be along any minute, and you can’t argue in front of Santa, can you?
‘When she said you were going to break my heart, I didn’t think it would be because of something so two-faced or deceitful. It’s everything I thought you weren’t, Joseph Hallissey.’
I know the name will sting him, and that’s exactly what I want.
‘Maybe we should go,’ Mum says gently.
‘Yeah, I think that’s a really good idea.’
Mum’s got her arm around my shoulders as we dodge past the queue of excited children, and run headfirst into Santa, who’s got his hands on his belly and is doing a ‘ho ho ho’ and waving to everyone he passes as he strides jollily towards the gardens.
‘Good morning, ladies. Ho, ho, ho!’
‘Oh, piss off!’ I snap at him, and then feel ridiculously guilty at the gobsmacked look on his face.
I told Santa to piss off. Has there ever been a worse Christmas than that?