Page 33 of Home This Christmas

TWENTY-EIGHT

‘So where are we going, then?’ I ask Nathan as, like a gentleman, he opens the door on the passenger side of his car and helps me inside.

‘A Spanish place called The Cocina. I hope that’s okay.’

‘Perfectly, although I thought you might have preferred to stay local, so you could enjoy a glass of wine…’ I comment as we drive. The thought that he doesn’t want to openly be seen with me in the village also flits across my mind.

We drive past Roberto’s, its large window strung with white lights and edged in red tinsel, making it look festive and inviting.

‘I will have a small glass with my meal, but I don’t mind; I am more interested in the food. And the company, of course.’ He turns and smiles and it feels as though we have never been apart.

‘So, I take it the wine tasting with the lady in your shop never took place?’ I ask, deciding to take the bull by the horns and find out a little more about the attractive employee.

‘It was no biggy; I can do that anytime.’ He shrugs.

‘Oh right, I won’t lie, the disappointed look on her face made me think she was more than just an employee…’ I tell him.

‘It’s complicated.’ Nathan lets out a sigh, as we take a left turn out the village, passing the huge Christmas tree with the multicoloured lights, and follow a sign to another village.

‘In what way?’ I ask, suddenly thinking that I don’t want to be in the middle of some complicated relationship thing.

‘Jo is a brilliant employee; she is a wine merchant and has a real nose for good wines. I would hate to lose her.’

‘And why would you?’ I ask. ‘Lose her, I mean.’

‘She might decide to move on, when she realises there is no future for us.’ He shrugs.

‘Why would she think there was?’ I ask. ‘Sorry, I know it seems like twenty questions, but I would rather know if you were involved with someone else.’

‘I thought we were just having a catch-up?’ He smiles that dazzling smile.

‘Well, yes, of course we are, but even so…’ I say, before staring out of the window.

‘Of course I am not involved with someone else,’ he says, looking at me. ‘I would hardly be taking you out to dinner if I was, would I?’

‘Even as a friend?’

‘Well, maybe yes, but I have no desire to settle down again with anyone at the moment,’ he tells me honestly.

I decide to wait until we are inside the restaurant before I continue the conversation.

Driving down a country lane, we pass rows of houses with bushes and trees in their front gardens wrapped in lights.

Windows with undrawn curtains are displaying Christmas trees, reminding me that Christmas Day is almost upon us.

A half-melted snowman in a front garden is clinging on with the cold temperatures, and I wonder whether there will be any more snow.

I spot a tiny portable library the size of a large bird box, and my thoughts flit to the library in Brindleford. I truly hope it can be saved.

‘So where are you spending Christmas Day?’ Nathan asks as we approach the village.

‘I’m not entirely sure,’ I reply. ‘I had imagined I would be spending it alone, as I am recently single.’

A car heading towards us is almost driving in the middle of the road, and Nathan presses his car horn loudly.

‘There are some bloody idiots out there these days,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘Sorry, you were saying?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I reply. ‘You were asking me about Christmas. I have a couple of options, but I’m not quite sure how I will be spending the day yet.’

Soon enough, we have parked up in the restaurant car park and are heading towards the restaurant, its window illuminated with a yellow neon sign.

Once inside, I am met with a modern-looking restaurant with blonde wooden floors, and furniture in shades of blue and yellow.

Soft lighting sets off the possibly too bright interior, although it all feels very stylish, and not something I would expect to see around here.

Once more I am reminded how the village eateries are moving with the times.

We are shown to a cosy booth, and a drinks order is taken, after a menu has been handed to us and a bowl of olives placed down.

‘Did you say something about recently being out of a relationship?’ Nathan asks. ‘Sorry, I had my eye on that idiot on the road.’

‘I wasn’t sure you heard.’ I pop a salty olive into my mouth. ‘And yes, we broke up about six weeks ago.’

‘Not that long ago, then. Were you together long?’ he asks.

‘A few years, but in all honesty, I don’t think things had been okay for a while. We were moving in different directions.’

‘I know how that feels,’ he says, with a raise of an eyebrow.

‘We were just kids back then,’ I remind him, even though I loved him with all my heart.

Our waiter reappears with drinks, before taking our food order. We’ve gone for a selection of tapas, and it turns out the same dishes caught our eyes.

‘But it was real. At least it was for me,’ says Nathan as he takes a sip of red wine. ‘Don’t you ever wonder how things might have turned out if you had stayed here?’ he asks, searching my eyes.

It’s a question I have asked myself over the years, but only when things haven’t been going well in my life.

‘It was for me too,’ I reply softly.

Suddenly, there is the sound of singing and a waiter carries a birthday cake complete with sparkler to a nearby table.

We join in the singing, as a young woman with two gold balloons showing the numbers two and one opens her mouth in surprise and her table bursts into applause.

We say little as our first bowls of tapas arrive, and we both take in the words we have just spoken. How could a love so true be broken because I moved away, I wonder? Surely true love would have endured.

‘Oh, to be that age again.’ Nathan speaks first, as more bowls of tapas arrive. Terracotta pots containing fragrant paella sit alongside dishes of tomato and mozzarella salad, and sardines. The smell of a fragrant creamy chicken casserole has my mouth watering in anticipation.

‘Would you really want to be that age again?’ I ask, as I dip some bread into some olive oil.

‘Twenty-one wasn’t such a bad age for me,’ he says, chewing some olive bread. ‘I think it was the year I finally got over my first love and met Leanne.’ He looks at me with a half-smile.

It occurs to me how much harder it must have been for Nathan living in the village, everyone offering their kind words to him over the end of his engagement, whilst I was able to slip away to the anonymity of the city.

‘I wasn’t with anyone for years,’ I tell him truthfully. ‘As I wanted to concentrate on building my career.’

‘Which you did, most successfully,’ he says kindly.

‘I did. I was lucky.’

‘A lucky break is one thing, but it takes hard work and talent to deliver,’ he adds, reminding me of Henry’s comment.

We stop talking to eat, and I can barely control myself from devouring the food greedily, as it is all so delicious.

‘Well, I must commend you on your choice of restaurant; this food is amazing.’ I spoon some more paella onto my plate.

‘I’m glad you like it. I think at this time of year, it’s nice to have a change of cuisine. I’ve eaten so much duck and turkey already,’ he says as he forks some paella onto his plate. ‘Not to mention Christmas pudding. It’s my weakness, I’m afraid.’

‘I remember.’ I grin.

‘You do?’ He fixes me with his eyes as he takes a sip of Rioja.

‘Of course. My mother was always pleased when you came around – apart from my father, you were the only one who ate her Christmas pudding.’

I recall her fussing over him and joking that she wished she had a strapping son like him to feed up. I never had a large appetite back then, and thinking about it, my father often preferred liquid lunches, apart from when she prepared a Sunday roast complete with his favourite Yorkshire puddings.

‘But at least I will have him as a son-in-law,’ she had told me when we became engaged. I think it broke her heart when we broke up.

I often wonder whether she might have stayed in the village, had Nathan and I married. Maybe even had children so that she could be the doting grandmother. The choices we make in life have so many consequences, but ultimately, I guess we all do what we believe will make us happy.

Nathan asks me about my life in London, and I describe my apartment and its stunning view.

‘I’d love to see it, it sounds amazing!’

‘It’s a long way from here.’ The thought of Nathan in my apartment has my pulse racing that bit faster. ‘And don’t you have a farm to run?’

‘With good staff,’ he tells me. ‘It took a while to get the right people, but we have a great team now. It means I can take a short break if I want to.’

‘And your father?’

‘Oh he’s still as strong as an ox. I think he is a long way from being looked after physically. It’s the company on the farm he enjoys.’

We talk more about each other’s lives and my career back in London, the place I now call home.

‘I watched you on TV recently,’ he reveals as we chat. ‘In a baking programme. I even thought of having a go at the cranberry and orange cookies,’ he reveals. ‘I might still do.’

‘So you really are something of a baker, then?’ I ask in surprise.

‘I enjoy it, yes. The boys used to go mad for my cakes and cookies, when they were little,’ he says proudly, making me realise how little I know about his life now. ‘In fact, they still do, when they come home.’

We talk easily for over two hours, grateful that there is no rush for our table.

‘I can’t believe you are really here,’ Nathan says as he sips a bottle of alcohol-free beer. ‘I wasn’t sure you would show up, when I heard you had been invited to judge the gingerbread contest.’

I take in his handsome face in the candlelight and can hardly believe I am sitting here having a lovely evening. Nathan is so good-looking, it’s hardly surprising he attracts a lot of female attention.

‘I wasn’t sure I would come…’ I tell him truthfully.

‘What made you hesitate?’ he asks.

‘I guess Mum no longer being here was a big factor. And I never really kept in touch with any of my old friends,’ I explain.

I don’t tell him the real reason for my hesitation in coming here, as I feel my cheeks redden.

‘Well, I am pleased you changed your mind.’ Nathan reaches across the table and takes my hand in his, and I feel a jolt of something in the pit of my stomach. ‘Really pleased.’

He gestures for the bill then, just as a blonde-haired woman passes our table and says ‘hi’ to Nathan. She places her hand on his shoulder in a very familiar fashion, as she speaks to him.

Perhaps Will was right in saying that Nathan is playing the field since his divorce.

It’s probably a good thing I won’t be around much longer to witness it, despite my undeniable attraction towards him.

And didn’t he say, just moments ago, that he is not interested in settling down with anyone?

Maybe it’s best to leave the ghosts of the past firmly buried.

After Nathan settles the bill, we are outside on the freezing cold street once more.

The shops here are like those in Brindleford, their windows decorated with lights and tinsel and reminding me that Christmas is just around the corner. I should have been home by now, but it seems that fate is intent on keeping me here.

A gift shop, its windows covered in snow-sprayed bells and snowmen, catches my eye as we pass. It occurs to me that there are no shutters on the windows of many of the shops around here, something I would never see in London.

‘What are you admiring?’ Nathan asks, looking over my shoulder. He smells so good, and I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up from his closeness.

‘That adorable little bear sitting on the log,’ I say, pointing to the cute sculpture.

The gifts in the window are all carved from wood, and include jewellery boxes, hand-crafted animals and wind chimes.

‘I wouldn’t like to meet one in real life, but this one does look cute,’ agrees Nathan.

Soon enough, we are back at the car, and Nathan helps me once more into the passenger seat.

‘I’m not sure I could stomach another alcohol-free beer,’ says Nathan before we drive away. ‘I have some good coffee back at the farm, though, if you fancy one?’

‘Wouldn’t we disturb your father?’ I ask doubtfully. Didn’t Nathan say his father lived with him at his cottage?

‘He has his own quarters. More of an annexe in the grounds, but he likes it that way.’

‘Coffee might be nice,’ I reply, all the time wondering if I am doing the right thing.

‘Perfect!’ he says as he fires up the engine and we move off.

A radio station is playing songs of the nineties, and then a Christmas tune comes on that takes me right back to the school disco, and my first slow dance with Nathan.

‘Remember this?’ He glances at me with a smile on his face.

‘Of course I do.’ If I close my eyes, I am right back in the moment.

‘You know, Stuart Simm was going to get you up for that slow dance, but I warned him off.’ He grins.

‘You did? You’ve never told me that before.’

Stuart Simm was the best-looking boy in the year back then, and all the girls fancied him, including me. That was before I fell head over heels for Nathan.

‘He wouldn’t have treated you right…’ says Nathan with a shake of his head.

‘You’re probably right.’ I smile, as after leaving school, Stuart quickly gained the reputation for being a bit of a heartbreaker.

You would have treated me right if I had stayed here, though, Nathan Woods. I am certain about that, I think to myself, with a quiet moment of regret.

We speak little as we drive, lost in our own thoughts. The open curtains on the windows of several cottages have now been drawn, as people have retired to bed, making the road darker as we drive, so Nathan carefully negotiates the bends.

As we get closer to the farm, I suddenly feel a little nervous at the thought of being alone with him. Maybe I ought to ask him to drop me at the hotel…

However much I tell myself I am doing the wrong thing, we are soon swinging into the car park of Nathan’s home. I am beginning to realise that as we become more reacquainted, I enjoy being around him. Maybe just one coffee, then I will head off.