Chapter 27
CHAPTER 27
I t was the day before Christmas Eve. Veronica wondered whether she should bother opening the shop. She hadn’t in previous years; knitting wool and haberdashery wouldn’t feature on anyone’s list today, and she always closed on Christmas Eve. If anyone was in desperate need of safety pins or scissors, they could pick them up at the post office and general store. But she felt too restless to sit around indoors, and the hours would pass slowly.
Everything was ready for Christmas dinner, the day after tomorrow. Veronica liked to be organised. The turkey crown had been collected from the butchers, the vegetables and homemade Christmas pudding waited in the fridge and larder. She’d bought a frosted chocolate log, which Jack preferred to fruit cake, and the sausage rolls and mince pies were made. Tomorrow she would peel the vegetables and make a winter salad for Christmas tea. There were no other preparations she could make in advance.
It was a sunny day, bright and crisp, the sky a brilliant acidic blue. Jack had said he was going to the allotment, if she didn’t mind – of course she didn’t, as long as he was happy. He was in the kitchen now, humming to himself as he made a flask of tea to take with him. If Jack was going to be out, she may as well open the shop, at least for the morning. She could always close at lunchtime if it was quiet.
Her first customer of the day was Holly Engleby, Laura’s daughter. Veronica asked her how she was getting on at university, and they had a chat about that while Holly browsed the shelves and display baskets.
‘Have you got….?’ Holly began, then turned to Veronica with a smile. ‘Yep, here they are.’
‘You’re wanting embroidery kits? You do surprise me.’ Veronica winked.
Holly laughed. ‘Not for me. I wouldn’t know one end of a needle from the other.’
‘Well, one end has a little hole…’ Veronica said, with mock seriousness.
‘Yeah, right. No, it’s for my nan. I haven’t got her a pressie yet and Mum said she does cross-stitch and stuff so I thought one of these kits would do. I’m glad you’re open, otherwise she’d have had to make do with chocs.’ Holly sighed. ‘My bad for not getting her something decent before.’
Veronica hid a smile. ‘I’m sure she’d love a cross-stitch kit. Do you want me to help you choose?’
Holly stopped flicking through the packets on the stand. ‘Cool. Thanks. I guess you’re about the same age as Nan. Bit older, p’raps.’
Again, Veronica smothered a grin and came out from behind the counter. ‘Come on, then. Let’s see what there is.’
Ten minutes later, Holly left the shop with her purchases: one kit with a seaside scene to make into a small picture, and another with a modern floral design for a needle case.
Seeing Holly had reminded Veronica about the party up at Spindlewood. Not that she had forgotten, but she had deliberately pushed it to the back of her mind.
She’d made one more evening trip to the pub, or rather, she’d intended to, but somehow it didn’t happen. With Jack’s approval – though not quite so willingly given as before, Veronica had noticed – she’d got herself ready and set off into the winter dark. She’d only got as far as the end of Mill Street where it met the high street when she’d stopped, wondering what on earth she thought she was playing at. She didn’t fancy a drink, and casting herself adrift among a sea of other pubgoers, friendly or not, suddenly felt like too much effort. A cosy evening at home with Jack and the telly was much more appealing.
Telling herself she was being weak and stupid, Veronica carried on walking until she reached the Goose and Feather. The Christmas tree was up inside, its lights winking merrily through the bubble-glass window, and a string of fairy lights festooned the lintel above the door. The buzz of voices was just about audible as Veronica stood uncertainly in the doorway. No doubt she’d receive as warm a welcome as she had before. But wasn’t there an equally warm welcome, and a much more meaningful one, waiting for her in the cottage?
Veronica had turned around and gone straight back home.
Jack looked up from his armchair in surprise.
‘Back already? What happened? Pub burned down has it?’ He chuckled. ‘Or did you forget your purse?’
His blue eyes were all wrinkly at the corners, always a sign he was really pleased about something.
Veronica had taken her coat off and, leaving it on the back of a dining chair, sat down on the sofa. ‘Nope. The pub’s still standing and I didn’t forget anything, either.’ She paused, meeting Jack’s gaze with her own. ‘Except maybe I forgot how lucky I am to have you and our lovely home. Can’t get enough of it. Or you, if you must know.’
There’d been a small silence. And then the lights on the Christmas tree suddenly took on a life of their own and started a hectic round of chasing.
Jack had looked at the dazzling display. ‘Don’t know what’s got into the damn lights. Maybe we should have bought some new ones. The settings keep changing by themselves. I’ll have to fix that.’
‘Not now. Stay still,’ Veronica had said. ‘They’ll change again in a minute. Look, Jack…’ She’d stopped, not knowing what she’d been going to say, or what she could say. The right words were suddenly very far away.
‘Love, it’s okay. I get it.’ Jack had rubbed the side of his face. ‘I know I’ve not been much fun, not for ages now. I get all churned up inside whenever I think I should be doing something, going somewhere. It feels kind of safer, somehow, stopping here, going down the allotment, not doing a lot else. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know. But you, you’re different. You need people, you need to be where there’s something happening now and again, I realise that, and I’d never stop you. I wouldn’t do that.’
‘I know,’ Veronica had said quietly. Tears had formed behind her eyes. ‘I know, Jack, and whatever it is you want, I want it too. Yes, perhaps I’d like us to do something different for a change, go places – together, not just me. I do think that sometimes. But it’s only ever a passing thought, so don’t you worry about that. As I said, as long as I’ve got you and our little home, that’s well enough for me.’
‘And the shop. Don’t forget the shop.’
‘And the shop, yes. I love my little shop.’
And my little world, she was thinking, as Jack raised himself out of his chair, came over and planted a warm kiss on her cheek. She’d pulled him to her so that he’d sat down on the sofa with a bump, her arms still around him. Then she’d kissed him too, a fleeting, tender kiss on his lips.
‘What was that for?’ He’d laughed.
‘Oh, just for being you,’ she’d said.
Jack had shaken his head. ‘You’re daft, you are.’ He’d wriggled out of her arms. ‘I’ll make the hot chocolate. Or, how about we open one of the bottles of wine we got in for Christmas?’
He’d been up and fetching the glasses from the sideboard before she could reply.
Veronica went into the back room of the shop, made a mug of coffee and brought it back through. She sipped it pensively as she gazed out at Charnley Acre’s high street, at the shops with their festive window displays, the people bustling by on their pre-Christmas errands, the stuttering stream of traffic. Her village – their village. Home. There was nowhere better.
Then the shop door tinkled and a woman she knew by sight ducked under the low lintel of the doorway and came up to the counter. She wanted yellow baby wool and a pattern. Her daughter had just announced her pregnancy and the grandmother-to-be couldn’t wait to start on the baby’s wardrobe. Veronica was pleased to oblige. She’d long ago expected the knitting of baby clothes to fade out; there were such lovely clothes for kiddies in the big shops, and cheap, too. But plenty of new mums favoured the traditional, and hand-knitting had taken an upward turn.
Veronica offered her best wishes as the woman left. Two more customers came in after her, and then the street outside fell quiet, as did the shop. It was almost midday, and she thought she may as well close up.
She was just putting everything straight on the counter when the door opened and Jack ducked inside. Veronica smiled in surprise. She noticed he’d changed out of the old cord trousers and jacket he wore to the allotment and was wearing his navy chinos with his dark-grey bomber jacket.
‘I wasn’t expecting you,’ Veronica said, unnecessarily. ‘I was about to shut up shop. You can walk me home. That’ll be nice.’
‘I could. I’ve got a question to ask you first.’
Veronica frowned. ‘What question?’
Jack came right up to the counter and leaned both hands on it. ‘This party. Christmas Eve. Mrs Engleby’s place…’
‘Laura’s, yes. What about it?’ Veronica had already made up her mind she wasn’t going to mention the party again. She’d be going up to Spindlewood tomorrow evening. It was such a lovely occasion and she couldn’t miss it. But she wouldn’t ask Jack if he’d go with her, not anymore. She would simply respect his wishes and let him be.
‘What’re you wearing? To the party?’
Veronica laughed. ‘Why are you interested in what I’m wearing? My usual, I expect. My dark-green velvet dress. Why?’
‘And you’ll look lovely in it, as you always do. But how about something new? A brand-new dress that’ll make you the belle of the ball?’
Veronica’s mouth fell open. She didn’t need a new dress for the party. The green velvet fitted her still trim figure, and suited the occasion.
‘Jack, it’s the day before Christmas Eve! Even if I needed a dress, which I don’t, there’s nowhere in the village to get one and it’s too late to order online. Let me lock up and we’ll go home for lunch.’
But Jack was shaking his head. ‘Not an option. There’ll be clothes shops open in Cliffhaven. Not many, I grant you, but I bet you we’ll find something. We can grab a bite of lunch while we’re down there.’ He threw up his hands and grinned. ‘Who says I can’t be spontaneous?’
Veronica had to laugh. In fact, she burst into a fit of uncontrolled giggles.
‘And while we’re down there I might treat myself to a new shirt. For the party.’ Jack’s face had turned a bit pink.
‘You’re coming to the party? The Spindlewood party?’ she asked, hardly able to get the words out.
‘That’s what I said, didn’t I? Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you. Get your coat, woman. The next bus is in eight minutes. We’ll have to hurry. We don’t want to be getting down there after dark.’