Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
L aura felt restless. Holly had been out – down to the village, she said – and come back, and then she’d taken a call on her mobile and gone out again, jumping into a car with three of her old friends from school. It was strange, but the house felt emptier now than when Holly was away in Birmingham.
On impulse, Laura snatched her duffle coat from the hook. Letting herself out of the back door, she rounded the corner of the house and set off down the drive, her hands in her pockets. The drive itself was clear now, but remnants of snow iced the tops of the bushes, and formed frozen, glittering heaps in the corners. It was almost four o’clock and the day was closing in. The sun was sinking below the distant hills, the denim-blue sky melting into streamers of turquoise and pink and apricot behind the dark skeletons of the trees. This was her favourite time of the day, in winter.
Silence ruled the garden. No birds, no traffic, no voices. Laura breathed deeply, and let the peacefulness envelop her.
Reaching the lower part of the drive, she saw that the abandoned awning which had covered the tree sales site now leaned drunkenly to one side on collapsing poles. Melted snow had formed a puddle on top. The boards were still down on the ground. They were slippery with icy water, and Laura trod carefully as she crossed them. She didn’t know why she’d stopped off here, just that the site seemed sort of lonely, with all its trees and people gone. She spotted the branch of a Christmas tree, poking out from a pile of snow, as if it was waving for attention. Stooping, she tugged at it. Nothing happened at first, and then it shifted, the snow fell away, and a whole tree emerged, a small one, fairly intact with just a few of its branches bent. Laura smiled as she held the tree aloft by its trunk.
Clayton opened the door of Mistletoe Cottage and reeled back in astonishment.
‘Yours, I believe,’ Laura said, from behind the branches of a Christmas tree. ‘I found it all alone in the snow. I’ll bring it in, shall I?’
He stepped out of the door, about to take the tree from her and throw it onto the garden when she sidestepped him and marched straight into the house, tree and all. By the time he’d followed her in and closed the door, she was standing in the middle of his living room.
‘Over there, I think?’ She was looking towards the corner, by the back window, holding the tree in front of her with both hands. ‘We’ll need something to stand it in.’
‘Laura, I don’t…’
Clayton rubbed the top of his head. Emotions were crowding in – confused emotions – at the sight of Laura herself, and of a Christmas tree, right here, inside his house.
She gave him a long, enquiring look, and then her shoulders drooped and she seemed to subside. The tatty little tree seemed to subside along with her.
‘Oh God, I’ve got it wrong, haven’t I? Clayton, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, I do, but I can see it’s too soon.’ She lowered the tree, her hands fumbling to maintain a grip on its spindly trunk. ‘It’s okay. I’ll take this away right now and you can forget I ever came. I’m so sorry for interfering.’
Clayton took the tree out of Laura’s hands. Her gloves were dirty; she had pine needles on the front of her coat and in her hair. The tip of her nose was pink from the cold. He’d never wanted to kiss her as much as he did now.
‘Please stop saying sorry,’ he said, ‘otherwise I might have to put you out in the garden instead of this.’ He stood the tree down, leaning it against the sofa. ‘I’ve got a bucket. Will that do?’
Laura bit her lower lip, and nodded. Her eyes were shiny-wet, which might have been from the cold air outside. He thought not.
He went to fetch the bucket. Laura went back to her car and returned with a cardboard box full of decorations, including a set of multicoloured lights with most of the bulbs working. Half an hour later, with a combined effort, the little tree was steady in its bucket, decorated, and the lights plugged in and switched on. A slightly creased gold paper star crowned the top. Laura had even pulled a wad of red crepe paper out of the cardboard box and wrapped it round the bucket to disguise it.
They stood back to admire the tree. It had grown dark outside and the tree lights were sending a colourful glow around the walls. The only other light in the room came from the flames of the wood-burner and the lamp in the window. The tree lights became a rainbow blur as Clayton gazed at them. He blinked, and swallowed the lump in his throat.
‘Are you all right?’ Laura said softly.
He turned towards her. ‘Yes, I’m all right. Well, perhaps not quite all right yet, but I will be. Thank you, Laura. For this. For, well, you know…’
She nodded. ‘I’ll go now and leave you in peace.’ She picked up her coat from the arm of the chair. ‘Clayton, I would very much like you to come to my party tomorrow, but at the same time I completely get it if you feel it’s too much. I just want you to know that.’
‘As it happens,’ Clayton said, ‘there’s something I want you to know, too.’
And without waiting for Laura to ask what it was, he took a step towards her, placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her.