Page 20 of I’ll Be Home for Christmas

For the next few evenings, it was all hands on deck in the cracker workshop.

Sales had been going remarkably well at the market, and two of the independent shops they supplied—one in St. Ives and one in Little Beck Foss—had run out of stock and put in last-minute emergency orders.

Fred was glad to be able to help but she couldn’t help wondering if it was this busy every year, and if so, how did they manage when it was only the three of them?

An unpleasant twinge of guilt twisted in her stomach.

Making crackers with her mum and aunts felt good, a little too good.

She had remembered—to her own dismay—how much she enjoyed working with them.

Remembered, too, the steady precision required to make the perfect cracker and, as each box was filled, the satisfaction of knowing the hands that had crafted the gifts inside and the papers they were wrapped in.

Over the last decade, she had forcibly stuffed all this knowledge to the back of her mind in order to persevere in forging a life outside of Pine Bluff.

She had always believed that staying here and joining the family business would somehow rob her of the chance to carve out her own niche in the world.

As if she was copping out of making it on her own.

She had never wanted to be accused of simply riding on her family’s coattails.

Her mum had always said that if there was a hard way to do something, Fred would find it; she’d been right.

But she was here now, and she was seeing things with, if not new, then certainly wiser and less prideful eyes.

The family business needed help, and she was in a position to give it.

At least she would feel as though she was earning her keep while she was here.

With that in mind, she put her name down on the family rota to take her fair share of shifts in the hut.

The market would be running seven days a week for the next few weeks, and Bella had fixed a whiteboard to the kitchen door mapped out with who would do what and when.

Despite their protestations, she had arranged it so that the aunts never spent more than two hours in the hut at a time and made sure that all of them had two days off a week.

Her mum, of course, put herself down for more shifts than anyone else, insisting that she “simply loved the atmosphere,” but Fred knew that it had far more to do with not wanting to put pressure on her.

She waited until her mum was in bed one night and then rejigged the rota, scribbling out her mum’s name and replacing it with her own.

When Bella came down to breakfast in the morning and saw it, she didn’t say anything, she just smiled happily, and Fred felt it like the sun on her face.

She and Warren had been messaging back and forth, and it was nice to have someone find her interesting after so long feeling inadequate.

Sometimes she filled in gaps in his local knowledge for his article about the Christmas market, or they talked about how he might approach the foodie piece he wanted to send his editor, and sometimes their chats were a bit flirty.

A small part of her wondered if she was making such an effort with Warren because no one had paid her any attention in a long while and her self-esteem had taken some knocks, but she shushed that part.

On Wednesday, Fred took the early shift at the market and when the aunts came to take over at two o’ clock, she decided she would go and find Liam.

Her mum had seen him almost daily since he’d arrived, but thus far Fred had missed him.

He was coming to the house for dinner on Friday evening, and she wanted to get the awkwardness out of the way over not having seen him since Claire had passed.

“Oh, that’s lovely, dear,” said Aunt Cam, settling herself into one of the two moon chairs Fred had set out for them.

They couldn’t see over the hatch when seated but they each wore a green, stiffly pointed Santa’s elf hat with a bell, so shoppers could see the hatch was attended.

“He’ll be so pleased to see you,” Aunt Cam went on.

“Right, young lady, off ye bugger,” said Aunt Aggie, picking up her crochet hook and starting a new granny square.

“Are you warm enough? It’s due to get even colder this afternoon.”

“Oh, we’ll be fine, dear,” replied Aunt Cam, pulling a Thermos out of her patchwork bag and shaking it. “I made us up some hot chocolate with plenty of brandy to keep us going.”

“Alcohol o’ clock again already, is it?” Fred asked, giving a sideways smile.

Cam tittered gently. “Silly goose, brandy doesn’t count, it’s medicinal.”

The afternoon was murky, bathing the town in sepia tones and causing lamps to be switched on early.

The sky looked swollen and heavy, and it gave the impression of hanging lower than normal, grazing the tops of buildings and rubbing out the hills in the distance.

Fred walked slowly, waving to stall holders she recognized and soaking up the sounds and smells of the busy market, but all too soon she had rounded the bend and came upon Liam’s wood spirit sculptures smiling benevolently at her from their sentry posts on either side of the hut opening.

His hut, much like the man himself, had a friendly vibe and smelled of newly sanded wood.

More wood spirits winked out from shelves, their long beards melding with the knots in the wood, their faces jolly and eyes full of mischief.

Alongside these were sculptures of women with long flowing hair, as well as wooden mortars and pestles, and chunky irregular-shaped chopping boards.

Liam looked up from the book he was reading, and his face broke into a wide smile.

He got to his feet. “Fred, it’s wonderful to see you!” He folded her into a hug, and she found herself holding back tears.

“It’s good to see you too,” she muffled into his thick corduroy jacket.

When he released her, he stood back, taking her in. “Hey now, what’s with the tears?” he asked.

“I was so sorry about Claire…” Her voice came out in a whisper.

“I know, sweetheart. Your letters meant a lot to me, and I know they would have to Claire too, she loved you very much.”

“How have you been?” she asked, collecting herself.

She took a seat in one of the wooden chairs he gestured to, while he took the other. People meandered in and out of the hut, invested in their own conversations.

“I’m doing well,” he assured her. “Sometimes I can’t believe it’s been five years, and other times it feels like I’ve been alone for decades.”

“Do you ever think about meeting someone else? I’m sorry, was that insensitive to ask?”

“No, it’s a reasonable question. I know Claire wouldn’t want me to spend the rest of my days pining for her. But I’ve only ever been truly in love twice in my lifetime, and I can’t see myself falling a third time; I’m just not sure it’s possible, not when I already gave so much of my heart away.”

“Never say never.”

“I never do. And what about you? How are you holding up? You’ve had a rough couple of years, what with that Tim and then your job.”

Another couple came in holding hands. They gave a cursory nod in Liam’s direction and continued to chat in hushed tones as they studied the sculptures.

Fred had never been able to hide anything from Liam and there seemed no point in trying to start now.

“By the time it was over, I didn’t love Tim anymore, but I’d forgotten how to be me.

Once I started therapy, it got easier. And losing my job was inevitable; I’d made myself an obvious candidate for redundancy.

It was almost a relief when it came, if I’m honest.”

“Sounds like you’ve been doing a lot of self-reflection.”

“I’ve had the time,” she retorted, dryly.

“I’m not sorry that things ended with Tim, but I am glad to hear that the loss of him wasn’t too painful. It makes me want a little less to break both his legs…only a little less, mind.”

Fred laughed quietly. “I guess Mum told you all about it.”

“Of course she did. Did you think she wouldn’t tell me that you were trapped in an emotionally abusive relationship? Many’s the time I thought about traveling down to London and kidnapping you for your own good, but your mum would’ve had my guts for interfering.”

Fred laughed at the prospect.

“She was right to tell me to keep out of it, of course. She said you needed to get there on your own, or you’d boomerang right back to him.”

She sighed. “She knows me better than I like to admit. She was completely right about Tim, and I absolutely wouldn’t hear it—because what did she know?

Only everything, as it turned out. I so badly wanted to make it work with him, and her gentle concern drove me bonkers, I just didn’t want to hear it. ”

Liam smiled. “I’ve known you since you were a bump in your mum’s tum, and you’ve fought her from day one on every single thing.”

Fred laughed. “I know you’re right. Sometimes I wonder if I do it out of sheer habit.”

“It’s an easy habit to slip into, but don’t let it cause you to pass up a good thing out of spite.”

“She told you about wanting me to join the business,” Fred said, knowingly.

“She did. Seems to me it would be beneficial to both of you.”

“I know, I know”—she brushed the air with her hand—“I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth…”

“But?” Liam coaxed.

“Will I feel like I’ve taken the easy option, instead of making my own mark on the world?”

“First of all, helping to run a company is never the easy option. And second of all, how is being an integral part of a business with your name in the title not making your own mark on the world? Now cut the crap and tell me what’s really going on?”