Page 30 of Home This Christmas

TWENTY-FIVE

‘Be careful out there!’ June says as she spots me heading towards the doorway. ‘The snow has all but melted, but it’s still slushy underfoot.’

‘Thanks, June, I promise I’ll take it slowly!’ I reply as I head outside. ‘I have to get used to using these crutches.’

It’s time to shop local and support the fashion store at the end of the high street too, I think.

Christmas tunes are playing in the background as I carefully walk into the small shop.

The owner greets me, before I make my way around the rails and admire the clothes.

How are they charging these prices? I think to myself, as I run my hands over a long, patterned dress that would cost more than twice the price in London.

A short while later, I’ve decided to purchase the dress, a pair of jeans and two colourful chunky sweaters.

I also select a couple of T-shirts and a zip-up hoody, thinking that my silky blouses and dry-clean-only trousers are not quite the thing to wear at a farm.

Noticing my injury, the kindly shop worker carries my haul of clothes to the till as I quickly call Marilyn to ask her a favour.

I pay the grateful shop owner, and my stomach is already turning over at the thought of meeting Nathan later. Even though I had planned to head off to London this morning, curiosity would have got the better of me. I am keen to see what Nathan has done with his new farm.

‘Here, let me get that for you,’ says the shop lady, opening the door for me just as Marilyn arrives outside. Thankfully, she was available to help me carry my shopping to the hotel.

‘Good morning!’ She beams and eyes the bag. ‘Successful shopping trip, then?’

‘Brilliant. I managed to buy some lovely things at great prices too.’

‘One advantage of not living in a big city – city shop rental costs go straight on the price of the clothes I guess.’

‘True. Gosh, things really have changed around here – the shop had some really gorgeous things,’ I say to Marilyn as she kindly takes my bags, and I grab on to my crutches.

‘I suppose Brindleford has changed quite a bit over the years… Maybe that’s the reason why more young families are choosing to stay put and raise children here.’

‘So, you think the new-builds are a good idea, apart from the proposed site for the latest ones, obviously?’

‘I do. But they most definitely need a library and a play park, so we will press on with the protest, for all the good it will do. Oh, and I forgot to mention, it’s the Victorian Christmas market on Saturday. Will you still be here?’ asks Marilyn.

‘That still takes place?’ I ask, recalling the charming market that used to attract visitors from miles around.

‘It does. I don’t think it will ever stop, at least I hope not. I know it doesn’t have as many stalls as the one at Skipton, but I would say it is just as enchanting.’

‘I think it being smaller is part of the charm,’ I say, recalling the locals standing around drinking mulled wine and chatting. A church choir would stand beneath the clock tower in the centre, singing carols dressed in Victorian outfits.

‘I’m told there will be Christmas trees for sales this year.’

I immediately think of a Christmas film and wonder whether there will be a hunk wearing a checked shirt in attendance carrying trees for grateful women.

‘Thank you so much, Marilyn,’ I tell her as she deposits my clothes onto the bed in my hotel room. ‘I’m going to try and have a shower, with one leg outside of the cubicle.’

‘I would offer to assist, but I think that might be going a step too far.’ She laughs.

As I sort myself out, I think of how Mum is missing out on having a friend like Marilyn.

When Mum and Dad used to have parties at ours, Marilyn would bake the most delicious cakes and pies for everyone to enjoy.

Occasionally, she would bring a bottle of homebrew rhubarb wine, that I remember her and Mum drinking from teacups in the kitchen.

With hindsight, maybe they were trying to hide it from Dad, knowing his liking for alcohol.

It makes me realise how little we know about our childhood, apart from the parts we are allowed to observe.

Perhaps when Mum is tired of travelling and has learned to live without my father, she might decide to return here and pick up her friendship with Marilyn, who I think would like nothing more. Or maybe even move close to me in London. But I won’t hold my breath on that one.

An hour later, and having successfully manged to freshen up, I head out to reception to meet Nathan, who is seated on a lounge chair sipping a coffee and chatting to a waitress.

‘You’re here already?’ I say, wondering why he didn’t let me know he had arrived.

‘I arrived early, so thought I would wait here… I wouldn’t have wanted to rush you,’ he says, glancing down at my ankle. ‘So I thought I would grab a coffee.’

Even dressed in jeans and a weatherproof jacket, he still looks handsome, something that does not appear to have gone unnoticed by the waitress, who keeps casting glances his way as she sets a table in the dining room.

‘I suppose so.’ I smile. ‘Although I am getting rather used to wearing this cast now.’

‘Ready, then?’ He stands, and the waitress looks me up and down as we head for the door.

‘So how far is the farm?’ I ask, once I am seated inside his comfortable four-by-four.

‘Literally a minute’s drive. It is probably only a ten-minute walk, but in your current state…’ He laughs, glancing at the cast on my leg.

Plus, it’s pretty cold this morning so I don’t fancy limping along and freezing half to death.

I am just beginning to enjoy the warmth from the heated seats when a minute or two later, we are pulling into a large gravel driveway.

Stepping outside, I take in several large buildings – one of them clearly the farm produce shop – surrounding a large gravel courtyard.

Nathan points to a large green barn a little further along a dirt track that was once a cowshed, and he tells me is currently unused.

‘I’ve been considering what to do with it…

The other barn next door is a kind of food factory, where the vegetables are prepared for sale in the shop,’ he explains.

‘The produce is also used in the all-important café. I can vouch for the winter vegetable soup, the veg all grown by yours truly.’ He smiles.

‘We can grab some lunch in a bit if you like?’

‘Yes, I’d like that,’ I say, realising I skipped breakfast after going shopping early this morning, then taking a shower.

He shows me around the wonderful shop, which has a huge Christmas tree inside the entrance. Inside, the cavernous shop is filled with all manner of foodie treats, including an impressive cheese counter.

‘We are lucky enough to have some brilliant local suppliers,’ says Nathan, lifting a jar of local honey from a shelf. ‘I did toy with the idea of keeping bees but decided against it. I thought it might take up too much time.’

Just as we are heading outside, an attractive woman around Nathan’s age approaches and asks him if he is free later to sample some of the new wines.

He makes a brief introduction, before scratching his ear, and saying he will text her later.

‘Is that business or pleasure?’ I ask him when she leaves. ‘Trying the wine, I mean.’

He takes a second before he answers. ‘It depends on how you define that.’ He grins. ‘Business, as in sampling new stock, but there is no denying it is a pleasurable activity.’

I resist the urge to ask him what that is supposed to mean and quickly push away the image of him sharing a bottle of wine with an attractive woman. We have only just reunited after all.

After climbing into his jeep once more, Nathan shows me the glamping pods complete with a BBQ area, before heading back towards the shop, passing a huge wooden adventure playground en route.

‘Wow, well, you certainly have an impressive set-up,’ I compliment him. ‘It seems you have thought of just about everything.’

‘I like to think so.’ He smiles. ‘Including this.’

We have stopped outside a cute cottage with a sage-coloured front door and its own small front garden.

‘I told you I could help you out if you decided to stay,’ he says, moving closer and looking into my eyes. ‘The cottage is for rent, and we have had a last-minute cancellation,’ he informs me as he lifts a key from his pocket. ‘Shall we?’

‘You are telling me I can stay here?’ I ask, and my heart seems to skip a beat.

‘Why not? It makes perfect sense.’

None of this makes sense, I think to myself as he lets us into the cottage. Especially the feelings I have when I am around him; yet he is giving nothing away himself. He is simply being practical. Helping me out in the situation I find myself in. I tell myself to get a grip.

We step inside the charming cottage, furnished with two comfy-looking fabric sofas, either side of a wooden coffee table. A red rug sits in front of a log burner that is glowing warmly.

I glance around the cosy lounge.

‘You can stay here until you decide to head back to London,’ says Nathan. ‘Or for as long as you like. I would love it if you could hang around for a bit longer. We have so much to talk about.’

We stand facing each other, and my heart thuds when I think he is going to move in for a kiss but suddenly, I am startled by the shrieking of a bird that has flown in through an open window. It is now sitting perched on the top of a bookshelf.

‘Damn, I had forgotten I had opened the window to air the place a little!’ says Nathan, bending to pick up a vase that is thankfully unbroken from the floor. After closing the window, he opens the front door and the blackbird flies out.

As I steady my breathing, I pull myself together and wonder what on Earth is going on here.

Should I stay on here for Christmas and see how things work out?

I can certainly write my weekly column from here, which I had planned to do later today.

Or do I return to London at once, and avoid the possibility of having my heart broken for a second time?

The worried thoughts swirl around in my head.

‘I think I had better head back to the hotel now,’ I say, feeling overwhelmed.

‘Now? But we haven’t had lunch yet,’ he replies, a puzzled look on his face.

‘I know, but I’ve developed a bit of a headache,’ I explain as I rub my temples.

‘That’s a shame. But I understand if you don’t feel up to it. I was looking forward to having lunch with you, though. Dad will be back from a job soon – I thought you could say hi.’

‘I would have loved that, but maybe another time.’ Am I really here with my first love, and about to meet his father too? Suddenly it all feels a little too much.

‘Of course.’ He nods. ‘So, can I get you anything? Some water, painkillers maybe?’ he offers.

‘No really, I probably just need to lie down. I need to start work on my column for the magazine later anyway.’

‘Sure. I’ll take you back if that’s what you want,’ he says, looking a little dejected.

When he drops me off a couple of minutes later, he touches my arm as I am about to get out of the car.

‘Ruby, is everything okay? Did I do something to upset you?’ he asks.

The touch of his hand sets my arm hairs on end. ‘No, Nathan, it’s not you, it’s me… Gosh, that sounds like a cliché, doesn’t it,’ I say with an eye roll. ‘What I mean is, you have done nothing wrong. I just have a headache, then I have things to be getting on with,’ I explain, as brightly as I can.

‘Will you give some thought to staying in the cottage?’ he asks. ‘I would love us to spend some more time together. I still haven’t heard about your life in London,’ he reminds me.

‘I will do.’ I smile. ‘But the truth is, I don’t know how long I will be staying here. I have a restaurant review on Christmas Eve, so I will need to return for that.’

And once I’m back in London, I am not sure I will ever return to Brindleford.