Chapter Ten
Instead of tiring them out, the long day in Bakewell yesterday only sharpened the girls’ enthusiasm.
They might not have found anything for their mother, but that didn’t stop them from now wanting to shop for everyone else—Dad, each other, even Mrs. Johnson, who always had something good baking in her kitchen for them.
But it was raining the next morning, a steady rain that turned to tiny pellets of ice just before noon. Cat persuaded the girls to wait until after lunch to see if the weather improved, and if it did, she assured them they could go to Bakewell for a quick trip.
The sun tried to peep out at one, and that was enough encouragement for Jillian and Olivia to push for shopping.
“I checked the weather report and it’s not supposed to stay sunny,” Cat warned. “In fact, it could get very cold later.”
“Cold is better than wet,” Jillian said. “But I will go change and put on more layers.” She ran up the stairs and Olivia, who had dressed as warmly as she could, stood in the entry, tugging on her winter jacket and then her wool cap.
“I’m going to buy something for you,” Olivia told Cat earnestly. “But you can’t see. It’s a surprise.”
“Then how do we make this work?” Cat asked, smiling down at Olivia who was almost always full of sunshine on even the gloomiest day.
Olivia zipped up her puffy dark pink jacket. “You give me money and I’ll use it to pay.”
“And where will I be? How will I keep you safe?”
“Jilly will keep me safe inside the store, and you’ll keep me safe outside.”
Cat’s heart turned over. She felt so much love in that moment for this lovely little human being. “We can maybe do that,” she said, running a light hand over Olivia’s dark hair.
Jillian came down the stairs then, and overhearing the last bit of their conversation needed some clarification. “What am I doing?”
“In the store, you’ll make sure no one robs me or anything,” Olivia said calmly, wrapping her scarf around her neck. “And Cat will stand outside on guard. But that’s only when I’m shopping for her present. The rest of the time she can be with us.”
“I brought my money this time,” Jillian said, patting her coat pocket. “Olivia, do you have your money?”
Olivia stiffened, panicked. “I left it in London. We need to go get money from Dad—”
“We can manage without him today. I have enough cash on me, and I can front you some for shopping,” Cat said, opening the front door. “You can always pay me back later.” She winked at the girls. “I know where you live and where you sleep.”
Laughing, they piled out of the house into the cold, and it was cold, crisp, the chill making them shiver and walk faster.
By the time Cat and the girls arrived in downtown Bakewell, it was after two and heavy gray clouds covered the sky, promising fresh rain, or possibly snow.
Despite the thick layer of cold and the sharp drop in temperatures, Bakewell had never looked more festive.
Starting this week, shops would also remain open later, and every store window glowed with fairy lights and garlands.
Cat walked between Jillian and Olivia, her hands snug in the pockets of her coat, the cheerful bustle of shoppers lifting her mood despite the cold.
Today, they decided to try to visit every store, even if it was just to peek in and decide they weren’t interested, but at least they’d know what was available.
“What about the bakeries?” Olivia asked hopefully. “Should we peek in those too?
“Livy, Mum is not going to be happy that we’re eating so much sweets.” Jillian hunched her shoulders and then laughed. “But she’s not here, is she?”
Both girls dissolved into laughter and even Cat was biting her lip, trying to be a smidge more mature, but it wasn’t easy, especially when the girls were so giggly and happy.
And just when they’d all calmed down, they passed a bakery with the most charming display of iced biscuits in fanciful shapes—stars and trees, snowmen, bells, angels and gingerbread men.
“Oh, I want a snowman!” Olivia pressed her mittened hand to a bakery window.
Jillian leaned in beside her. “I want a snowman too. But we need to get something for Dad.”
“We can do that,” Cat said.
After leaving the bakery, they moved through the streets, stopping to admire knitted scarves, beeswax candles, jars of chutney stacked like jewels. At the Christmas market stalls set up near the river, the girls lingered over hand-painted ornaments, stroking the tiny animals carved from wood.
“Can we choose one each for the tree?” Olivia asked.
Cat nodded. “Of course.”
Jillian picked a small red fox, Olivia a glossy robin. Cat paid for them and tucked the boxed ornaments into her tote. Just as they left the stall, Cat’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out. Rhys.
“Hi,” she answered, her breath puffing in the cold.
“Where are you?” he asked. “The cottage is awfully quiet without the three of you.”
“We’re in Bakewell doing a bit of shopping.”
“Again?”
“We’ve become quite the expert shoppers. You’ll be impressed.”
“That I’d like to see. Can I join you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Where are you?”
Cat glanced around, looking for street signs and then told him where they were.
“Stay put,” he said. “I’m on my way.”
Before she could respond, the call ended.
Olivia’s eyes widened. “Daddy’s coming?”
“Apparently so.”
Jillian rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth curved with pleasure, and she and Olivia decided that the wait time was the ideal time for some iced biscuits.
A few minutes later, Rhys appeared through the crowd, coat collar turned up, the winter sun gilding his dark hair. The girls ran to him, Olivia wrapping her arms around his waist before he even slowed.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, reaching Cat with a faint, apologetic smile. “I wasn’t making progress and thought I’d come home early, but when I did, no one was there.”
“You’re not interrupting,” Cat said, though there was a flutter in her chest she couldn’t explain. “We’re glad you’re here.”
“Daddy, I need some money. We’ve been shopping but I’m using all of Cat’s money, and I don’t know if she has enough for all the presents I want to buy.”
He tugged on her long ponytail. “Presents for who?”
“Well, presents for everyone.”
Rhys shot Cat an amused glance.
Cat smiled. “Olivia’s quite generous.”
“Always has been,” he answered.
Together, they strolled through the market, and then down the high street.
Rhys helped Olivia try on a knitted hat with a bobble the size of a small snowball, which made her giggle uncontrollably.
Jillian found a bookshop and disappeared into the young adult section, Rhys trailing after her while Cat browsed through the toy section with Olivia.
He was good with them, she thought, as they stepped outside again.
He was patient and present. The precision and control that he lived by at work seemed to loosen around his daughters, replaced by a dry understated humor that made Olivia giggle and Jillian roll her eyes, even as she secretly smiled.
Cat was content to walk behind them as the girls chattered about their day, talking about the snowflakes they’d made the other morning and how tomorrow would be orange cloves, or something like that.
Despite Rhys’s fears, they were a close family, a real loving family. He had nothing to worry about. The girls adored him and he loved them unconditionally.
After an hour of shopping, Cat asked Rhys if she could sneak away for fifteen minutes for a few errands of her own. He nodded, distracted by Olivia’s tug on his sleeve. “We’ll meet you at the Rutland Arms Hotel at five?”
Cat nodded, knowing by now where the historic coaching inn was located. “That works.”
She slipped into the crowd grateful for a few minutes on her own so she could do some shopping, not sure when she’d have another opportunity quite like this.
The streets were glowing now, the early dusk settling over Bakewell, the air rich with the smell of all things delicious.
Strings of lights stretched across the narrow lanes and the windows of the shops shone with golden light, all staying open later now that they were getting closer to Christmas.
She wandered until a small pottery shop caught her eye, its window crowded with hand-thrown mugs, bowls, and teapots in soft winter glazes of blue, green, and cream.
Two hand-thrown mugs caught her eye immediately—one pale blue with tiny snowflakes, the other cream with a painted sprig of holly with bright red holly berries. One for each girl, she thought. Something pretty and simple, something they could use back in London on cold mornings.
She bought them both, and after a moment’s hesitation, added a third—a mug glazed in deep forest green, simple and masculine for Rhys.
She tucked her purchases carefully into her bag and then stepped back out into the cold.
In the distance, a bell tolled, marking the hour.
Time to rejoin everyone, but she was pleased by her purchases.
They were just small gifts, nothing extravagant, but it felt good to do something for the family that were sharing their home with her this holiday.
When Cat reached the meeting spot at five, she found Rhys and the girls already there. His expression brightened as she crossed the street and joined them.
“Should we eat here?” Jillian blurted, surprising them all. “This looks like a nice place and that way Cat doesn’t have to cook tonight.” She glanced shyly at Cat. “That is, if you want.”
Cat smiled. “I’d like that very much. As we all know by now, I’m not a very good cook.”
“But we’re not starving,” Jillian flashed with her very Jillian sense of humor “At least, not yet.”
Rhys entered the Rutland Arms to enquire about dinner, but they’d been booked out for a private holiday party. The host suggested they try a restaurant near the Bakewell Bridge.