‘You need to tone it down a bit.’
‘Tone what down?’
‘The bronzer. You’d fit right in on a reality-TV show with your face caked like that. Actually, you’d make a few of those girls look anaemic.’
I covered my cheeks with my hands. What did he mean? It hadn’t been very bright in my room when I’d gotten ready and I had been in kind of a rush.
I stood and peered at my reflection in the mirror above the fireplace. Oh no! I resembled an Oompa Loompa with cheeks to rival Aunt Sally. If Worzel Gummidge could see me now, he’d be offering me a nice cup of tea and a slice of cake. Even worse, was knowing that Sam had seen me like this. So when I’d flattered myself by thinking he was smiling at me over dinner, fantasising that he might be thinking I’d matured into a belle to rival Angelina Jolie – the wine was strong – he must actually have been laughing quietly at my toxic-orange face. How awful! I’d never be able to face him again! I’d have to stay in my room all through the holidays. I would have to hide myself away.
Suddenly grumpy, I asked, ‘Why is Sam here?’ I sank back into my seat and accepted the tissue that Karl offered.
‘Didn’t I tell you last week on the phone? It was a busy one with trying to wrangle my latest contract and jetting back from visiting Angelo’s family in Verona. I must have forgotten and I feel terrible now.’
I shook my head as I rubbed furiously at my cheeks with the tissue until my skin tingled. ‘No, you didn’t say anything about him coming too.’
‘Well he did only decide last minute really. But I thought that it would do him good to get away. I was afraid that it would be weird for the two of you but as so much has happened since…since then, I hoped that you’d be okay with it. It’s the first anniversary, you see, and I didn’t want him and the kids home alone. At least here he can have the privacy and space of the old lodge just off the driveway, whilst being near to us – if and when he needs company.’
‘Anniversary?’
I watched his lips moving as I tried to absorb what he was saying and the words seemed familiar somehow. While I’d been wrapped up in my business and trying to maintain a charade of a relationship with Harrison, one of our oldest friends had been through hell. Correct that; the man I’d once loved with all my heart had been through hell. Sam had lost his wife a year ago on Boxing Day. She was a nurse and she’d been driving to work when she’d been hit by a drunk driver. She’d died instantly and left behind Sam and their two children. My vision blurred. A family had been torn apart, leaving a husband without a wife and two children without a mother.
‘So Christmas will be a truly dreadful time for them then?’ My voice came out all thick and slurry.
Karl eyed me carefully. ‘Yes, Katie. Sam’s parents have been great but they needed a break and jetted off to Italy. They asked Sam to join them but he declined. Said he needed to start standing on his own two feet. I really admire him. He’s a strong guy and he’s doing a great job of bringing up Jack and Holly. Even if Jack isn’t a Santa believer.’ He cocked an eyebrow.
‘Well,’ I swallowed the lump in my throat, ‘we have a duty to make this Christmas a great one for them, don’t we?’ I was filled with a sudden determination. ‘I want to help those babies to enjoy a good old Warham family Christmas that Granny would be proud of.’
Karl gestured at the other side of the room where Mum and Dad were sitting. ‘You sure about that last bit? I know Mum and dad are on board but with Aunty Gina here it could get a bit…crazy at times.’
‘You mean because Granny’s not here to rein her in?’
He grinned. ‘I think she’s mellowed a bit as she’s aged. She’s not half as wild any more.’
I pictured the Christmas when Gina had quite literally climbed the Christmas tree, then the one when she’d insisted that we all stay at a cottage in West Wales and take a Boxing Day swim in the freezing cold sea. She’d certainly been wild at times. ‘Yes, let’s have a good old Warham family Christmas with Santa and a Christmas tree and decorations and crackers and carols and lots of yummy food.’
‘Well seeing as how tomorrow is Christmas Eve, we’re going to have to rise bright and early to achieve all that. Better hit the sack immediately. I’ll give you a call around five, shall I?’
Five? ‘Yeah sure. I’ll be ready.’ And I would be. I had the opportunity to think about something else other than work – though I would need to text Ann to make sure that everything at the shop ran smoothly. Time to stop worrying about whether I had the capacity to fall in love or even the compassion and understanding required by another person. It was time to think about making some other people happy. I mean, my beautiful cakes made people happy all the time, but in this case I was going to create a special Christmas to remember for an old friend and his young children. Because even though Sam and I had once been so much more, he was, ultimately, one of my best friends growing up. Yes things had gone wrong but that happens in life, not all relationships work out and life is not a fairy tale. And there had been reasons for our split that would have tested any relationship.
For the first time in ages, when I climbed between the cool cotton sheets that night, I didn’t pass out from exhaustion. Instead, I drifted gently off to sleep, with a smile on my face and the tingle of hope and anticipation in my belly.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_16f0584f-61f3-500d-9237-043f2e6d80f2)
Christmas Eve I woke up bright and early feeling incredibly refreshed and positive. I bounced out of bed and into the shower, then rummaged through my clothes. After selecting black leggings, a long-sleeved tunic and pulling on my battered old cowboy boots, I was ready for whatever the day would bring. I checked my iPhone. It was five forty-five am. So early! Karl hadn’t woken me at five, as promised, but part of me had doubted that he would. My brother had always liked his bed and now that he had a hot Italian lover to share it with, he’d find it even harder to leave it, no doubt.
I ran a brush through my hair, then sighed. It just never did what I wanted it to do; instead it sprang stubbornly off in all directions. I shrugged. I’d spent my teenage years longing for different hair, a different figure, a different me altogether. I was past thirty now, so it was time to accept what I’d been given.
Right, what was it I’d said last night? I would do my best to ensure that Sam and his children enjoyed Christmas. He was a nice guy and had been a very good friend. I’d cried on his shoulder many times and fallen asleep in his arms. Of course, those shoulders and arms of his hadn’t been quite so broad back then but he had been able to make me feel safe and loved. Until the unthinkable happened and I’d been thrown into a chasm of vulnerability that no one had been able to rescue me from. Only time had helped; that and throwing myself into pursuing my chosen career, but I knew that I wasn’t completely fixed. I harboured a doubt that I ever would be.
My stomach growled. Time for breakfast and some strong coffee. Not that I needed it to wake up this morning because excitement was coursing through my veins like a fine pinot noir, but because coffee was part of my daily routine. And I liked it – a lot. Cappuccino. Latte. Espresso. With milk or without. Whatever form it took, caffeine was my wake-up drink of choice. I crossed the room and pulled the curtains apart, then gasped.
It had snowed overnight. The barn and the cars had a fluffy white dusting and when I craned my neck to peer down the driveway, I could see that the trees had the same. It was a picture-perfect postcard. I wondered if Jack and Holly would be excited. We could make a snowman and have a snowball fight with Karl and Dad and go sledging and… Hold on a moment, lady! Was I actually looking forward to spending time with children? With my family? Or was I getting carried away as I had a tendency to do? Harrison used to call moments like these my Kat-nip Hypers, when I’d have bursts of hyperactivity and be full of energy and positivity. I liked to think that it was my optimistic side, my youthful exuberance shining through. Had he been right advising me to ‘rein it in a little’, because all too often, if things didn’t go quite as planned, I could end up dejected?
I shook my head. No. He was not right about me. I did not need to be completely in control. Just watch me. Today I would be chilled, relaxed, floaty. A bit like Aunty Gina. I’d go with the proverbial flow. Gah! Well, I would try, at least.
In the kitchen, Mum was already preparing breakfast. ‘Morning, Katie.’ She cast me a sideways glance as she poured freshly boiled water onto coffee.
‘Morning. Sleep well?’
‘If you can call tossing and turning until I finally passed out from sheer exhaustion well…then…I mean, yes, thank you.’ She wrinkled her perfectly straight nose.
Did she just auto-correct herself? ‘My bed was really comfy. Wasn’t yours?’
‘Not really, Katie. For some reason our room has a waterbed.’ She shivered as if the final word was dirt encrusted.
‘A waterbed?’ I gasped in mock horror, swallowing my laughter.
‘Keep your voice down,’ she muttered. ‘All night long, every time your father moved, all I could hear was sloshing and slooshing beneath me. I felt quite seasick.’
My mother was admitting to a weakness – even if it was an aversion to waterbeds. I pressed my lips together hard. ‘Did Dad sleep?’
‘Like a well-rocked baby.’ She sighed as she poured milk into large mugs with colourful Christmas scenes painted on them. I stared at the heart lifting images of families sledging, carol singers crowded together around a glowing brazier and Santa Claus flying through the air in his sleigh pulled by a red nosed reindeer.
‘Have you looked outside, Mum?’
She nodded.
‘It actually snowed last night!’ I gave a little bounce.
‘Snow? Looks like a heavy fros— Yes, it’s beautiful. Could you give me a hand please, Katie?’ Mum smiled then and I nearly lost my balance. What on earth was going on?
‘Yeah…sure. What do you want me to do?’
She directed me to the bacon and the frying pan and I spent the next ten minutes happily breathing in the delicious aroma of smoked bacon and humming along to the carols on the radio. Mum even joined in when Elvis crooned ‘It’ll be lonely this Christmas’. It wasn’t so bad being with Esther like this. It wasn’t like we’d ever be best friends but we had cooked together quite a lot when I was growing up and it seemed to be the one time when we could tolerate being in close proximity.
When everything was ready – buttered toast, fried bacon, mushrooms, huge juicy grilled tomatoes and poached eggs – we carried it all into the dining room. Dad was there reading the newspaper and looking like the lord of the manor.
‘Morning!’ I sang. ‘How’d you get the papers so early?’
‘Your father popped out before we all woke up,’ Mum replied and her cheeks flushed bright pink. Was she hiding something? ‘I’ll just fetch the toast.’
I watched her leave, frowning with confusion as the toast was already on the table. Why had she fled to the kitchen? What were they up to?
‘Hey, Katie. How’d you sleep?’ Dad seemed to suddenly notice me.
‘Great thanks, Dad.’ I kissed him on his proffered cheek.
‘Good morning, Warhams.’ Karl entered the room followed by Angelo. They really were the most gorgeous couple. Karl was the perfect athletic blonde with his golden skin and expensively highlighted hair and Angelo was dark, brooding and tight-bodied. Their joy in each other just oozed out of them in a smug, sated, sensual way.