Friday 23rd December
Afternoon tea
Ruby’s chocolate brownies
Dinner menu
Smoked salmon and king prawns
with dill and lime mayonnaise
and Scottish oatcakes
***
Vodka lemon chicken
with creamy mashed potatoes, broccoli florets and mini glazed carrots
***
Squidgy chocolate and pear pudding
Harrison, bless him, seems to have entered a whole new level of flamenco-dance hell.
I tried to call him several times last night but his phone must have been out of charge. Then a text came through first thing:
Poor Harrison. He’ll be hating it! But I’m so proud of how thoughtful and kind he’s being with his mother. It can’t be easy for her, the first Christmas without her husband. I can’t wait to see him on New Year’s Eve!
Later, at the cabin, I’ve got Ruby in the kitchen with me, teaching her how to make chocolate brownies. Actually, she’s surprisingly clued up already, reeling off the difference between plain and self-raising flour, and creaming the butter and brown sugar together like a pro.
‘I like your purple hair,’ I say truthfully. ‘It’s really striking.’
‘It’s not purple,’ she corrects me, looking pleased nonetheless. ‘It’s called chocolate-mauve.’
‘Well, it suits you.’ I nudge her, nodding at the brownie mix in her bowl. ‘You’ve done this before.’
‘Dad liked baking and I used to help him.’ She smiles at the memory. ‘He used to work at the office on Saturday mornings then come home and make flapjacks. He said it helped him to relax, and when he smelled the biscuits baking in the oven, he knew his weekend had begun.’
‘Perhaps we could make flapjacks some other time?’ I murmur. ‘In your dad’s honour.’
‘Maybe.’ She focuses on beating the cake mix, her expression neutral, but I notice the slight flush in her cheeks.
Ryan wanders in around eleven and asks if there are any biscuits. I rummage around and find half a packet of digestives and he eats them standing by the patio doors, staring out. He looks so deep in thought, he’s probably only vaguely aware of Wizzard blasting out ‘I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day’.
He seems to have spent the whole morning prowling around restlessly, like a caged panther. He came into the kitchen earlier with a newspaper and sat at the breakfast bar after asking if minded. I smiled and said of course I didn’t, and I made him some coffee, wondering if he was in here in order to eascape from everyone. He looked preoccupied and definitely wasn’t reading his newspaper. Instead, he spent a lot of time just staring out over the lake, only leaving when Jed came in and asked for his help with something.
‘Thanks,’ he says now, screwing up the empty biscuit packet and tossing it in the bin.
‘No problem.’ I smile, and he slopes out.
‘Do you think he’s had The Letter?’ murmurs Ruby, carefully tipping out cocoa powder into the weighing scales.
I smile at her as little puffs of the delicate chocolate powder rise up and scatter on the bench. ‘What letter?’
She looks solemn. ‘You know, the letter from Santa informing him that as he’s been a bad boy this year, he won’t be getting presents.’
I start to laugh.
‘What?’ Ruby stares at me. ‘Why are you laughing?’ She clutches my arm. ‘Oh no, please don’t tell me Santa isn’t real!’
She looks so totally devastated, my heart misses a beat. Oh God, does that mean I’ve ruined Christmas for her? But she’s sixteen. Surely by now she …
Ruby’s peals of laughter reveal I’ve been taken for a complete mug.
‘Crikey, Ruby, perhaps you should be an actress when you grow up,’ I tell her, laughing. ‘That was a very believable performance.’
‘I’ve acted in the school musical.’
‘Yes? What part did you play?’
‘The singing nun. I got into the habit of running round the hilltops.’ She grins at me. ‘Boom boom.’
‘You were Maria von Trapp?’
‘That’s the fella.’
‘Wow, I’m impressed.’
‘It got me out of having to join the school choir. How boring would that have been?’ She snorts. ‘We used to try climbing up the scenery backdrop when Mrs Chance, the music teacher, was off flirting in a corner with the drama master.’
I smile at her, thinking how I’d like to have been that cool at her age. Instead, I did exactly what I was told and shied away from putting myself out there. ‘Perhaps you should study performance art.’
Ruby shakes her chocolate-mauve head firmly. ‘I love extreme sports. I want to do something outdoors for a job. Be a rock-climbing teacher or something. Dad took me whitewater rafting once and it was the most awesome thing I’ve ever done.’
I nod. ‘Sounds exciting.’
‘Or I could be a cook.’ She looks at me thoughtfully. ‘Do you think I’d be any good?’
‘Maybe. Let’s see how the brownies turn out first, shall we?’ I nudge her teasingly.
‘I wish there was stuff to do round here. You know, exciting things. But Mum won’t even let me dive into the lake. She says my extremes would freeze.’
‘Your extremities.’ Laughing, I tell her about the traditional New Year’s Day lake swim and her eyes light up. ‘Where do I get a wet suit?’
‘I’m sure they’ll be able to rustle up one for you from somewhere,’ I assure her. Personally, I’ll be giving that swim a very wide berth …
Soon, the heavenly aroma of warm, melting chocolate is filling the house, and Ryan wanders in to investigate just as the brownies are emerging from the oven. ‘Very nice. When can we eat them?’ He grins at Ruby when she slaps his hand and says he has to wait until they’ve cooled down.
‘Poppy and I were just talking about extreme sports,’ says Ruby. ‘Have you done anything exciting like that, Ryan?’
He perches on the edge of a stool. ‘It’s not exactly extreme, but I’m learning to fly a plane. I’m hoping I’ll have my licence some time next year.’
‘Yeah?’ Ruby’s eyes light up. ‘I’d love to be able to fly a plane. Is it difficult?’
Ryan laughs. ‘It is when you’re not great with heights.’
Ruby’s eyes widen. ‘You’re scared of heights but you still go up there?’
He shrugs. ‘My dad’s a pilot.’ A shadow passes over his face. ‘I guess I got the bug from him.’
I glance at him, puzzled. I’m sure Jed mentioned that his mum was spending Christmas in Australia with their sister this year and that his dad had died several years ago. Perhaps they’re half-brothers and Ryan’s dad is still alive?
Gloria pops her head round the door and summons Ruby for a game of Monopoly then bustles off to find Tom.
‘The excitement is mind-numbing,’ Ruby says with such a deadpan expression that I can’t help laughing.
‘Go and trounce them all,’ I tell her. ‘And stay out of jail!’
She trails out of the kitchen and Ryan grins. ‘She’s a good kid when you get to know her. At first, I wanted to murder her, what with all that mobile-phone stuff.’
I murmur my agreement then cautiously ask him if he’s feeling okay.
He looks surprised. ‘Me? I’m fine.’
‘You’re probably missing Jessica, though.’
He makes a variety of faces, considering this, but ends up saying nothing, just shrugging.
‘Is your dad coming for Christmas?’ I smile. ‘The pilot?’
‘Never see him.’ His reply is brusque.
‘Oh, why not?’ The instant the question is out, I wish I could take it back. Judging by the look on Ryan’s face, it’s obviously a painful subject.
He sighs. ‘I wasn’t even supposed to know he’s my dad. Mum only told me about him when I was eighteen. I’d grown up thinking Jed’s dad was my dad, too. But then I found out.’
I raise my eyebrows but don’t press him for details, although I’m curious to know more.
Ryan shrugs. ‘The fact is, Mum had a brief affair while Dad – well, I thought he was my biological dad – was working in Dubai, and she ended up having me.’
‘Do you see him?’ I ask. ‘Your real dad?’
‘Not really. He’s a great guy but he’s got a family of his own now and they live in France. He’s a pilot for British Airways. He says I can go over and stay with them any time I want, but …’ He shrugs.
‘So, why don’t you?’ I can tell from his expression it’s eating away at him.
‘I don’t know. It would be awkward for everyone, especially his other kids,’ he says. ‘I don’t really belong.’
‘But you do! You’re his son! Honestly, Ryan, if I were in your position and I’d been invited over to France by my real dad, I’d be there like a shot. Wild horses couldn’t keep me from booking that flight!’
Hot tears surge up. Embarrassed, I turn away and start cutting up the brownie slab to serve later for afternoon tea.
There’s a tense silence. Then Ryan says, ‘Well, maybe I’ll phone him.’
‘You should.’ My voice sounds clogged with tears.
‘Do your mum and dad live locally?’
I blink furiously, paste on a smile and turn. ‘Mum does. But Dad – isn’t in my life anymore.’
‘Oh.’ There’s a tense silence. Then he says, ‘The food’s been brilliant, by the way. Jed says your partner is in Spain visiting his mum.’
‘Harrison. Yes, he is. And he’s being forced to take up flamenco dancing.’
‘Yeah?’ Ryan laughs. ‘Poor bloke. I bet he thinks it’s great, you switching career like this.’
I grin. ‘Well, actually, I think he’d rather I was a stay-at-home housewife. Not that he’d stand in my way, if this is what I wanted to do.’
‘And is it? What you want to do?’
‘Definitely. One hundred per cent.’
‘Then I’m sure Harrison will support you and be proud of your achievement.’
I nod and smile, wishing it were that easy. It’s impossible to dispel the sneaky feeling that Harrison probably wishes I wasn’t so keen on a career change. I’m starting to think he’d rather I was there in the background, the little woman supporting him in his career advancement. It’s only since he’s been away that this has suddenly become clear to me. It’s as if distance has given me perspective.
‘You’re lucky your life is so sorted.’ Ryan groans. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever settle down and have a family.’ He smiles sheepishly at having confided something so intimate. I’m surprised, too. But then, I’ve always considered a cosy kitchen the perfect place to relax, mull things over, off-load …
‘Are you in love with Jessica?’ I ask carefully.
He looks surprised. ‘Er … no. We get on okay and she can be good fun sometimes. But I definitely couldn’t see us growing old together.’ He plays with the handle on his cup. ‘No, I’ll just be the eternal bachelor. The indulgent uncle to Jed’s five kids. Far less complicated.’
‘Maybe you go out with the wrong women?’ I suggest, turning to count the brownies cooling on the rack to hide my reaction at the thought of Jed with five kids. ‘I mean, I might be wrong, but Jessica doesn’t really seem ready to settle down any time soon. Perhaps you choose girlfriends who haven’t the power to hurt you.’
He sighs heavily. ‘Oh, that’s deep. Far too deep for a simple guy like me.’
‘What about Clemmy?’ I ask, after a pause. ‘She’s lovely.’
‘Clemmy?’ He frowns, shifting around on his stool. ‘Clemmy’s nice. But I’ve known her since she was a spotty kid with braces, and our families are so close, we’re practically related.’ He shrugs. ‘I can’t start dating my sister, can I? I’d get arrested.’
I laugh. ‘Yes, but she’s not really your sister. And she’s not spotty now.’
‘No braces, either,’ he muses.
‘I think she likes you. A lot.’
‘Yeah? More fool her!’ He slumps lower over the bench and stares moodily out of the window.
‘Here. Have a brownie,’ I say, to put a smile on his face.
‘Thanks.’ He wolfs down the largest one on the plate I’m holding out. ‘Mm. Nice one, Ruby. Listen, sorry for interrupting your work and for being such a gloomy arse. All this “relaxation” is a shock to the system. I think I need to get back to work.’
‘You work far too hard, according to your brother.’
Ryan gives me a broad smile. ‘Got to fill the time, otherwise you end up thinking too much. And that’s dangerous.’ He doesn’t smile often – not properly – but he’s actually really handsome without that slightly sulky set to his mouth. ‘Thanks for the counselling,’ he says, spinning off his stool. ‘I do actually feel better.’
‘Come back for coffee and a packet of digestives any time!’
He winks. ‘I may well do that, Dr Poppy.’
I quickly place the rest of the brownies in a tupperware box for their tea later, then grab my coat and bag and head out. I’m meeting Erin in Easingwold to mop up the rest of our Christmas shopping.
As I head out the front door, Clemmy and Tom burst in, chatting and laughing. Tom seems quite transformed from when he first arrived. Gone is the awkward teenage air. He and Clemmy seem to be getting on like a house on fire.
Clemmy beams at me. ‘There’s nothing like going for a country walk in winter!’ she says, shrugging off her coat and struggling to unzip and remove her boots. Tom offers a hand to steady her. ‘Thank you, Tom. And thanks for your company.’ She beams at him. ‘Just remember what I told you! Play it cool.’
Ryan comes out of the living room. ‘Hey, everyone. I was just about to saunter around the lake. Fancy it, Clem?’
Clemmy looks surprised. ‘Oh. Thanks, Ry, but Tom and I have just hiked for miles and we’re knackered. And I’ve been fantasising about a mug of hot chocolate for the past half hour.’ Her face is flushed from the chilled air outside. She heads off to the kitchen. ‘Want one, Tom?’
‘Yeah, great,’ says Tom with enthusiasm.
He follows her, leaving Ryan standing there, looking slightly bemused.
‘Maybe tomorrow, Ry?’ calls Clemmy.
‘Fine.’ Ryan shrugs. ‘I guess it’s just me, then.’
*
It’s later than usual – nearly seven – when Erin and I get back to the cabin to serve dinner. Driving through a busy Easingwold, splashes of vibrant Christmas colour sparkling at every turn, the festive-season traffic was extremely slow-moving. Even getting out of the car park seemed to take forever.
Not that Erin seemed too bothered by the hold-ups. She was still on cloud nine because Mark had bought her a huge and very expensive-looking bunch of flowers the day before. They were waiting for her on the kitchen table, apparently, when I dropped her off at their flat late last night, and there was a note from Mark saying he was sorry he’d been neglecting her lately and that he knew he was so lucky to have her. And once things at work were less hectic, he’d make it up to her, he promised.
‘It’s just a shame he has to work tomorrow,’ she says as we get out of the car. ‘But at least it means I can help you without feeling I’m neglecting him.’
I frown as I lock up. ‘But it’s Saturday tomorrow. And it’s Christmas Eve. Will Mark’s office be open?’
She shakes her head. ‘No, but Mark always says that’s the best time to work – when there’s no one there and the phones aren’t ringing. He wants to clear all his paperwork before Christmas.’
I glance at her uneasily. Of course it’s lovely that he bought Erin flowers. Although, thinking about it, a bouquet and a box of chocolates from Mark seemed to be practically a weekly occurrence until fairly recently. Perhaps he really is snowed under at work. And of course the ‘honeymoon period’ in a relationship never lasts forever …
All the same, I decide I’ll call by Mark’s office in the morning. Just to wish him happy Christmas because I probably won’t see him again until after the Big Day. I’m taking Mum out shopping so I’ll fit them both in before I arrive at the cabin to prepare the special Italian dinner Bob has requested for Christmas Eve.
My heart beats faster at the thought. I spent a long time last night, going over the menu and checking I have everything I need to cook a dinner that will impress Bob so much, he’ll absolutely have to use my services in the future! A tingle of excitement runs through me. I can’t afford to waste this golden opportunity. Tomorrow night’s dinner has to be absolutely perfect in every detail.
I keep thinking how amazing it is that one wrong number led to this – the perfect opportunity to win an important client and forge the career in catering I’ve longed for. If Jed hadn’t mis-dialled when he was trying to reach Clemmy, none of this would have happened.
As soon as we enter the cabin, it’s clear that a happy Christmas atmosphere is sorely missing. Loud music is coming from upstairs and, at that moment, Gloria – wearing a skin-tight red dress over her ample curves, and matching jewelled ballet pumps – hurries into the hallway and yells, ‘I’ve told you to turn that down, madam!’
When the volume remains unchanged, Gloria looks at us in despair. ‘She’s just doing this to rock the boat. She’s trying to split Bob and me up, and the awful thing is, I think she’s succeeding.’ Tears wobble in her eyes then splash down her cheeks, taking half her mascara with them.
She looks so forlorn and vulnerable, I want to grab her and give her a hug. But next second, she draws herself up to her full height of five foot nothing and roars, ‘Right, young lady!’ She charges up the stairs, meaning business, her generous, scarlet-clad rear end shifting swiftly from side to side.
The living-room door is open. Clemmy is curled up reading a magazine, and Ryan, Jed and Tom are watching some sport on TV. Bob is nowhere to be seen.
Erin and I grimace at each other and hurry into the kitchen.
Bob must have been in his room because he appears when dinner is served and makes a valiant effort to talk to a sulky Ruby, asking her what music she likes – as if he hasn’t spent half the afternoon having his eardrums burst by Justin Bieber.
Gloria chats away nervously in the face of Ruby’s monosyllabic replies, but the atmosphere around the table is subdued, to say the least. Ryan looks sunk in gloom again, and even Jed looks preoccupied. Only Clemmy and Tom seem to be in the Christmas mood, vying with each other to remember the most pointless gift they’ve ever received.
‘Bloody hell,’ says Erin, back in the kitchen. ‘Talk about a typical family Christmas! I felt like slapping Ruby for being so rude to Bob. But then I suppose she’s missing her dad.’ She pauses then says sadly, ‘I keep thinking back to last Christmas. It was so lovely.’
‘Your very first with Mark,’ I murmur. ‘I remember. He gave you those gorgeous diamond earrings hidden in a toiletries gift box.’
‘Ah, well.’ She sighs wistfully. ‘This year is going to be even better!’
We smile at each other and I really hope for her sake that it is.
It’s a relief when dinner is over and we can get cleared up. It’s been a sombre evening and I’m only hoping there’s more of a Christmassy atmosphere around the table when we serve up the special Italian meal tomorrow night.
In the car, the temperature gauge is at two degrees below zero, and I realise I’ve left my gloves in the kitchen. Leaving the engine idling, I blast the heater for Erin. ‘Back in a sec.’
I hurry into the kitchen but my gloves aren’t there, so, hearing no sound from the living room and thinking everyone must have escaped to their rooms, I pop my head around the door. To my surprise, Jed is there, sitting forward on an armchair angled towards the log fire, elbows resting on his thighs, staring into the depths of the dying embers. He looks up, startled from his reverie.
‘Sorry to disturb you. I’ve lost my gloves. But I’ll look for them tomorrow.’
I start backing out, but he says, ‘No, come in. We’ll find them.’