CHAPTER THREE
As I iced traybake ginger cakes in the Little Duck Pond Café kitchen later, I was grateful to be busy.
With little time to think, I had more chance of shrugging off last night’s nightmare.
I hadn’t experienced one for a few weeks now – but apparently, they were back with a vengeance.
I didn’t usually remember my dreams in the morning, but these were different: they were so vivid that the fear I’d felt while asleep seemed to cast a chilly shadow over the whole of the following day.
But right now, I had to finish the icing then clear tables in the café, and after that I’d need to make another batch of the sultana scones that were always so popular, especially when they were still warm from the oven.
They tended to vanish as quickly as the good chocolates in a tin of Quality Street!
‘Penny for your thoughts?’ asked Maddy, who’d popped into the kitchen with a loaded tray of crockery for the dishwasher. She set the tray on the worktop and peered at me. ‘You look exhausted.’
I forced a laugh. ‘Gee, thanks.’ I shrugged. ‘Bad dream last night.’
‘Are you still regretting not inviting the lovely Caleb to Sylvia and Mick’s wedding?’
‘I am. It would have been much nicer with Caleb there.’
‘But you and Caleb are fine now?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Good. Because you don’t want to stretch the poor man’s patience to breaking point. Is that ex of his still hanging about?’
I sighed. ‘Thanks for reminding me about her, Maddy. But no. He hasn’t seen her for months.’
‘Sorry.’ She frowned. ‘I was just going to say that if it is his ex you’re worried about, maybe you’re imagining stuff that’s not actually happening?
’ She shrugged. ‘I remember working myself up into a terrible state over Jack’s female work colleague when we were first going out.
They were so chummy together. But she turned out to be no threat at all. ’
I attempted a smile but didn’t reply.
The truth was, last night’s scary dream had set me back a little. I was feeling tired and vulnerable again, wondering if these nightmares were a warning of some kind. But after a good night’s sleep, I’d be feeling fine again.
Deep down, I knew Caleb had no interest in seeing his ex. It was my own feelings of vulnerability that were making me doubt our relationship.
The bottom line was, I was terrified that my fledgling romance with Caleb would end the same way as it did with Richard.
No matter how many pep talks I gave myself in front of the bathroom mirror, I couldn’t seem to dislodge the thought that I might be giving my heart away – only to have it viciously stamped on all over again.
Logically, I knew that just because Richard had dumped on me from a great height, it didn’t mean I was destined to be dumped on by every man I met.
And anyway, Caleb was in no way a dumper!
He’d given me zero signs in the time that I’d known him that he was anything other than a truly lovely, gorgeous man with a heart of gold and morals to match when it came to relationships.
That’s where the pep talk failed, of course.
Because that’s exactly what I’d thought about Richard . . . but then look what had happened! Dumped from a huge height. The Empire State Building sort of height, although fortunately not literally.
I used to pride myself on being a sensible, practical sort of a person. But that was before all these self-sabotaging thoughts had taken up residence in my mind.
They’d made themselves completely at home in there, lounging with their dirty shoes on the pale sofa and playing loud music till all hours, and while I’d initially hoped they might just be passing through, they’d clearly claimed squatter’s rights and were plotting an indefinite stay.
It felt so dangerous being in love now. No wonder I was terrified of giving my heart completely to Caleb.
But . . . what if, in trying to slow things down a little, I was in danger of losing the best man I’d ever known in the process?
Bug-eyed with tiredness this morning, my head felt like Piccadilly Circus with all these conflicting thoughts whirling around inside it. My lovely but irritatingly perceptive Granny Olga had clearly noticed something was wrong because she’d started knitting furiously.
Jumpers.
For me.
She always knitted me jumpers when she thought I might be under the weather.
She said it made her happy to think that she was doing something.
She also liked to feed me up at these times, to put colour in my cheeks with her special soups and dumplings – and I loved her for it.
(Even though the thick, woolly jumpers sometimes made my skin itch, although I’d never had the heart to tell her!)
As I rubbed butter into flour later and weighed out the sultanas, I reminded myself what Maddy had said.
You don’t want to stretch the poor man’s patience to breaking point . . .
The nightmares had nothing to do with my love life. Of course they weren’t a ‘warning’! Maddy was right. I was in love with Caleb and I needed to stop feeling so scared it might all go wrong and commit one hundred percent to our relationship.
Otherwise, I could lose him . . .
*****
The crowd in the Little Duck Pond Café seemed to be mostly Christmas shoppers these days, judging by the number of carrier bags by chairs, just waiting to be tripped over! It was the perfect place to take the weight of your feet while sipping a reviving caramel latte or gingerbread cappuccino.
It was almost December and the festive season had well and truly arrived, as evidenced by the colourful, winking fairy lights in every shop window along the bustling high street and the gloriously majestic Christmas tree on Sunnybrook village green, which lit up the darkness with its sparkle and glow every day from four o’clock onwards.
I wanted to feel excited about the festive season. And for the most part, I was.
I just wished I could block out the part of my brain that kept reminding me about the disaster earlier in the year that was New York.
Back in January, I’d been all set for a new adventure. Richard had been seconded to his company’s New York office for three months, and I was happily planning to visit him there.
Now, whenever I remembered how excited I’d been back then, I couldn’t help but cringe.
I’d known things weren’t as good between us as when we’d first met, but I suppose I’d just brushed off the worry because that’s what happened with long-term relationships, didn’t it?
The spark tended to fade a little, but it was the love that was important – and I’d been sure we had that in spades.
In my innocence, I’d had no hint whatsoever of the trouble that was brewing for me. All I knew was that I was missing Richard and was really looking forward to our reunion when I flew over there on my first ever trip to New York.
Almost as soon as I arrived, I’d got the feeling something wasn’t quite right.
And eventually, my suspicions that Richard was no longer in love with me were confirmed.
I’d arranged to meet him on top of the Empire State Building, thinking how romantic it would be – just like the movie starring Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr!
But when I arrived someone else, a stranger to me, was already there – someone who was also anticipating a romantic rendez-vous with Richard.
She was called Emily.
And needless to say, Richard chose her. They came back to the UK, planning a life together here, but it didn’t work out. So the terrible way he treated me was all for nothing.
And I was left trying to cope with the damage his betrayal had inflicted on me . . .
*****
When my shift ended at four, I said goodbye to Ellie and popped my head round the kitchen door to see if Maddy was ready to go.
‘Just going to finish emptying the dishwasher. I’ll catch you up,’ she said cheerily.
So I took my time bundling myself up in my winter coat and scarf and walked out onto the green. It was already getting dark, and as I stood there, breathing in the frosty air and wondering if there could be more snow in the forecast, the magic happened.
The magnificent village Christmas tree lit up in all its colourful, sparkling glory. And as I gazed into its glowing branches, something happened to my heart. I felt a warmth inside and suddenly tears were pricking at my eyelids.
I’d always adored the festive season. It brought out the best in me, somehow.
Maybe it did that for everyone? The softer, more romantic side of me tended to emerge around this time of year when the air was filled with the homely scents of crackling fires, mulled wine and gingerbread .
. . when sentimental Christmas songs were played wherever you went, and people were generally kinder to one another.
I swallowed on the lump in my throat.
It was time to be brave . . . time to forget the past and Richard and all the heartache and subsequent self-doubt, and step into the unknown with Caleb . . . confident that whatever the future might hold for us as a couple, I would be able to handle it.
And then suddenly, just as I was thinking this, there he was . . . striding across the green towards me.