Chapter 30
CHAPTER 30
S pindlewood looked wonderful, inside and out. Since darkness had fallen, the outdoor lights transformed the frosted garden into a magical winter fairyland. The lighted windows of the house with their sills full of greenery and sparkle gave the cheeriest of welcomes. Indoors, everywhere was warmth and colour and light. Everyone had pronounced the Christmas tree in the hall the ‘best ever’. Cynthia in her new pink outfit drew plenty of compliments to which she responded with a beatific, plastic smile.
Laura roamed the downstairs rooms, chatting as she went. She was sure she didn’t know all of these people, but no matter; the invitations to her Christmas Eve party were loose affairs, and the ‘plus one’ was liberally interpreted. As long as everyone enjoyed themselves – they certainly seemed to be doing so – she was happy.
The food which had filled the extended dining table, plus a range of small tables dotted around it, was nicely depleted, but there was still plenty left for latecomers and second rounds. In the background, Christmas songs played softly but they were no competition for the beat of the music coming from the living room where Holly was in charge of the playlist. From the doorway, Laura watched her daughter throw her head back in laughter at something one of her friends had said, then a whole bunch of them burst into raucous laughter, including Saul.
Holly had talked a little about Saul to Laura in the kitchen before the guests had arrived. She was obviously feeling guilty about him, but at the same time there was some confusion in her mind.
‘What if I do really like Saul after all? I mean properly like him,’ she’d said, launching herself on top of the kitchen counter and sitting cross-legged, like an elf.
‘You can’t mess him about, Hol,’ Laura had said. ‘Blowing hot one minute and cold the next.’
‘Yeah, I know that.’ She sighed. ‘He is dead cute, though, isn’t he?’
Laura had laughed. ‘It takes a lot more than just being cute , Holly. Although Saul does have plenty of other good qualities, I’ll give you that. Anyway, what about Lorcan? I thought the pair of you had sworn undying love?’
Laura had winked, causing Holly to scowl good-naturedly. Then she’d tossed her blonde hair back.
‘Yes, well, I might have a little rethink on that.’
Laura had simply lifted her eyes to the ceiling in mock despair and gone to the fridge to take out the butter.
Holly and the younger set were dancing now, and then somebody switched the music from that awful beat stuff Holly liked to something more popular, and others began to join in the dancing, filling the space between the pushed-back sofas. Saul had been standing on one spot, his eyes never leaving Holly. And now Holly was going to him, taking his hand, drawing him in to dance with her.
Laura smiled, slowly shaking her head.
‘What’re you smiling at?’ Emily was by Laura’s side.
‘Oh, just Holly. She doesn’t seem to know what she wants where the boys are concerned.’
‘And we did, at her age?’
‘Fair point.’
Emily nudged Laura in the ribs. ‘Look, see that guy in the blue shirt, the tall fair-haired one, over there?’
She waved a vague arm towards the far side of the room. Laura squinted through the dim lighting and the mass of people.
‘I think so. Why?’
‘He’s the new doctor at Charnley Health Centre. He’s just moved into the village. Cute, isn’t he?’
Cute , again! Was there no other word to describe a good-looking man anymore? Laura peered once more into the gloom just as the crowd parted for a moment, giving her a better view.
‘Wow. I see what you mean. I had no idea he was coming, but what’s new?’ She giggled.
Laura didn’t remember inviting any doctors, but she had invited Sophie, one of the receptionists she’d been friendly with for ages. Which probably explained the number of other guests she’d recognised from the health centre.
‘We’ve been chatting,’ Emily continued, ‘and how’s this for coincidence? It turns out he’s got a whippet, just out of puppyhood. I was explaining where the best walks are around the village.’
And no doubt imparting the full details of Wilf’s walking routine on any given day of the week, Laura thought, smiling to herself. ‘What else has he got besides the whippet? Wife? Girlfriend? Mistress?’
‘Not the first two, as far as I can make out. The last one?’ Emily shrugged, pulling a face. ‘Who knows?’
They both burst into giggles.
Leaving Emily to weave her way back towards the unsuspecting man of her latest dreams, Laura went to the kitchen, poured herself half a glass of wine and drank a little. Putting the glass down, she rested her hands on the cold edge of the sink and stared out at the black night through the uncurtained window, enjoying a moment of peace and quiet. And then, out of nowhere, came an odd sensation, as sudden as if she’d been nudged in the ribs. It felt almost like loss, as if she was missing something – or someone. It wasn’t about James; she missed him every day and always would, but that was a different sort of feeling, one she’d grown so accustomed to that it was written into every cell of her being. Could this be about Spencer, then? Strange, if it was.
But perhaps it wasn’t so strange. If you’d been in love with someone, however misguided, a little bit of the feeling must cling on for a while, like a strand of seaweed to a rock before the sea came and swept it away.
Goodness, that was a bit airy-fairy, even for her. Did it mean she’d drunk too much, or not enough? Laura lifted her glass, peered at its contents and topped it up from the bottle on the counter.
‘Cheers!’ she said to the empty kitchen. ‘Happy Christmas!’ Then, ‘Chin-chin!’ That had been one of James’s sayings. She smiled at the memory.
She stayed in the kitchen for a while, sipping her wine and listening to the sounds of her guests filling Spindlewood with laughter and merriment. And then she thought about Mistletoe Cottage, its doors and curtains closed against the world, the little Christmas tree bravely lighting a silent room, and her heart twisted.
It was time she went back to her guests but another few minutes wouldn’t hurt. Leaving the kitchen, Laura slipped along the hallway and went upstairs, taking the smaller staircase to the turret. She’d left the light on earlier; she switched it off now. As she stood at the window, gazing at the crescent moon suspended above the trees and the star-strewn clear winter sky, she sensed movement below. She looked down, and there was Clayton, walking up the drive, a note of uncertainty in his stride.
The turret room was dark but he must have sensed her presence because he stopped as he approached the steps to the terrace and looked up. His face broke into a smile. Laura smiled back. She lifted her hand as if to wave, but instead pressed it to the glass, fingers spread. Clayton raised his hand, mirroring hers. Then he began to walk up the steps and Laura ran down to let him in.