On Christmas Eve afternoon, Alys turned the sign on the café door to read ‘Closed’, picked up her bag and stepped outside to be met by a gust of damp, but not particularly cold, air. It didn’t look as though they could expect a white Christmas this year, after all.
The streets were quiet as Alys locked up and headed for the bus stop. It was the end of the afternoon and most people were at home with family and friends, or had gone visiting. She’d sent Dee and Sandy off at midday, promising them that they would have a celebration together in the New Year. The last few days at work had proved too hectic to organise the promised Christmas drink in the end, with customers even dropping in that morning to beg them for a dozen mince pies, gingerbread reindeer and chocolate truffles, to use as last-minute gifts. Alys told herself that a really quiet time was exactly what she had been looking forward to, but now it was almost upon her she had to fight down a sudden wave of loneliness. Christmas was such a family time and, despite the fact that Moira was family, they would make rather a small gathering.
The bus drew up at the stop, the driver extra-cheery in his greeting as he was on the last run of the day. As they headed out of town and the bus started the long haul up the hill, it passed houses with curtains left half-open to display trees festooned with Christmas lights, twinkling and winking as rain started to spatter against the bus window. Then all was darkness outside as the bus laboured up the final stretch into Northwaite. Alys jumped off at the first stop, which was closest to The Celestial Cake Café, so she could check whether Moira was still there. But the café was locked up and in darkness. Hunched against the now-driving rain, Alys shouldered her bag and was preparing to head for the cottage when she spotted a note taped to the door.
‘In The Old Bell. Join us!’ it read.
Alys assumed that this was intended for her, but she wasn’t sure she felt like going. She was tired, and had spent all day looking forward to a relaxing evening. A noisy pub wasn’t quite what she had in mind. She hesitated, then, reflecting that she’d be at a loose end if Moira wasn’t home, and that there would be plenty of time to relax over the next couple of days, she turned her steps up the hill. Within a minute or two, she was pushing open the door of The Old Bell.
A wave of noise and laughter greeted her and she almost turned tail and fled, but Tom, on his way to the bar, spotted her.
‘Alys! You made it. You look half-drowned. Everyone’s over in the other bar. Go through and I’ll bring you a drink. What’ll you have?’
Alys found Moira chatting to some of the regulars from the Northwaite café. It was standing room only, but she managed to stow her bag and coat under a chair and squeeze through the crowd to join them. The glass of wine that Tom brought over helped to soothe some of her tiredness but, after nearly an hour of trying to make conversation over the hubbub, Alys thought about making a break for it. If she said she was leaving, though, Moira and Tom would insist on joining her and she could see that they were really enjoying themselves. So, instead, Alys offered to get the next round and pushed her way through to the bar, standing patiently to wait her turn to be served. She whiled away the time staring at an old photo of the pub on the wall next to the bar. The photo was dated 1895 – she’d never noticed it before. Surely that was the year that Alice had died? There were some indistinct figures in the street, faces pale against dark clothes as they stared at the camera, no doubt a novelty in those times. What if one of them was Alice? She must have walked past the pub many times, although probably without going inside. It wasn’t the done thing for women in those days.
‘Penny for them.’
Alys jumped. The voice was right in her ear. ‘Oh, it’s you.’
‘Well, that’s a nice greeting after all these weeks.’ Rob smiled and Alys felt a sudden rush of complicated emotion. She’d been so tied up with everything involved in getting the new café up and running that she’d barely thought about anything else. Including herself. But Rob was speaking.
‘I’ve been asking Moira about how you were getting on and why we never see you in Northwaite anymore. She said you might be in here this evening.’
It was Alys’s turn to be served, finally. As she waited for her drinks she turned to Rob.
‘So why haven’t you come over to Nortonstall, to the new place? To check out the coffee there?’
Rob laughed. ‘I’m not sure they’d be keen to have my tractor on the High Street. Anyway, I’ve been away myself recently.’
‘Away? Anywhere nice?’ she asked, trying hard to sound casual.
‘London, can you believe.’ Rob made a face. ‘It was a Rare Breeds Symposium. Why on earth they organised it in London, I’ll never know. I don’t know how you put up with it down there for so long, Alys. It’s so crowded. A bit like being in here tonight!’
They pushed their way back with the drinks and Rob helped her hand them round.
‘Rob!’ Alys was contrite. ‘I didn’t get you one! I was so busy memorising the order, I forgot to ask you. Here – I’ll go back.’
She turned to go but Rob grasped her arm. ‘No need. I’ve got one. I left it over by the bar. Come with me and we can catch up on each other’s news.’ He didn’t withdraw his grip, instead using it to guide her before him back through the crowd. His drink safely claimed, they wedged themselves into a corner, where the view gave out through the door into the road.
‘It’s still raining,’ Alys remarked. ‘I got soaked just walking here from the café.’
‘You were pretty drenched the first time I set eyes on you,’ Rob said. ‘And the second, come to that. The first time it was the rain, the second time because you were swimming.’
The remark hung in the air a moment as they both thought back. Alys felt a response was required, preferably a witty one, but her mind was a blank. She opened her mouth to speak, hoping inspiration would strike, at the same moment as a crowd of new arrivals burst in out of the rain and forced their way into the already crowded space, knocking Alys off-balance and propelling her into Rob.
‘Oh!’ Alys found herself clutched in a bear hug, which seemed to go on at least a minute longer than it needed to. She wasn’t complaining; she was suddenly aware of how long it had been since someone had held her so close. And how nice it felt.
Reluctantly, she disengaged herself. ‘Rob, I’m really sorry. My drink’s gone all over you.’
His shirt was wet, the checked pattern hiding what was undoubtedly a spreading stain.
‘No worries. I’ll get you another.’ Rob turned for the bar as Moira and Tom appeared.
‘Alys, we’re going now. It’s so busy we can’t hear ourselves speak. Do you want to come with us?’
Moira’s questioning look moved from Alys to Rob, then back again. Alys was torn. She really wanted to stay and talk to Rob, but the wine she had drunk had started to add to her exhaustion rather than lift it. And the noise level was rising rapidly; they’d be yelling at each other rather than having an intimate chat.
Alys smiled apologetically at Rob. ‘I’m really sorry about your shirt.’
He tipped his head and cupped his ear to show he couldn’t hear her.
‘I must go. I’m really tired,’ she yelled. ‘And I’m sorry about your shirt.’
He pulled her towards him and spoke into her ear. ‘Don’t worry. It’s crazy in here. I’m meeting Rosie and Sian on New Year’s Eve for dinner and a few drinks in Nortonstall. Come along? We’ll call by and collect you.’
He made the question sound like a command and Alys, defeated by the noise level, could only nod.
They parted company in a flurry of Christmas wishes, exchanging hugs and kisses. Alys knew she hadn’t imagined that, at the last moment, Rob had turned her face towards his and kissed her full on the lips.
She carried the sensation all the way home with her, quiet as she trudged through the rain, grateful for Tom’s presence. It meant that he not only offered to carry her bag, but distracted Moira from asking probing questions. With the longed-for Christmas only a few hours away, she found that she was already looking forward to New Year.