Chapter Nineteen
Hayley
W hat was that strange noise? Where was she? So many things were pounding around Hayley’s befuddled head it was like being hungover. Was she? No. She hadn’t drunk anything, but she had kissed Oliver. Like really kissed him. And what a kiss… But wait… That had stopped. More unfamiliar noises broke into her consciousness. Something warm was on her back and her cheek was pressed against a very firm pillow. Pillow?
She opened her eyes slowly. Ok, not a pillow. She was leaning on Oliver’s chest. His hand was on her back, and she was curled into him. Shit. Had she drooled all over him? Blinking, she shifted into a comfier position and ran her finger under the corner of her lip just in case. He briefly glanced at her, keeping his arm around her, but she was aware his attention was elsewhere.
The hospital. Of course. They were still here. Under her coat, her sparkly dress had twisted at a funny angle and was not at all comfy. She sat up properly, moving out of Oliver’s hold and trying to straighten herself out. What was happening? He let her go, but his hand came to rest on hers as she settled it on her lap. She linked her fingers with his, her heart filling with a desperate wish to make everything ok for him. Medical staff had repositioned his father’s bed and were standing around either adjusting the machines or making notes.
‘So, it’s mostly good news,’ a doctor said. ‘The internal damage is just bruising. Some of it around his shoulder, neck and back will mean he needs to fully rest. He won’t be able to work for some time.’
Hayley caught the expression on Carla’s face; her wide eyes and turned down lips looked fearful. Oliver’s dad was a farmer, and Hayley was pretty sure Carla couldn’t do that job single-handed. Oliver wouldn’t be much help. If he had farming skills, he’d kept them exceptionally well hidden, and in the unlikely scenario that he did, he had a full-time job anyway; he couldn’t exactly give it up to go and work on his dad’s farm. And he wouldn’t want to. She knew him well enough for that to be quite clear.
‘Hey.’ She leaned over, still with one hand in Oliver’s, and put her other hand on Carla’s arm. ‘I’m sure there’ll be something we can do to help. I’m not a farmer, but there must be someone who knows what to do.’
Carla covered her mouth. ‘I don’t know where to start.’
‘It’ll be ok.’ Hayley let go of Oliver and put her arm around Carla’s shoulder. ‘Oliver could find out about who can help.’ She glanced over at him.
‘What?’
‘You could investigate what support Carla can get in this situation.’
‘Oh… Yes.’
‘Thank you.’ Carla nodded and gave Hayley a weak smile.
Oliver was frowning, which was a fairly common expression for him, but Hayley could read his mind like an open book. He was wondering why she was being nice to Carla. Maybe it wasn’t her place to interfere, but the woman seemed so desolate and lost. She hated seeing people hurting.
‘Let me get your number.’ Hayley took out her phone. ‘Then you can message me if you need to. Once your husband wakes up, he’ll be able to help too. He’ll know people who can help.’
‘Dad knows everyone,’ Oliver said. ‘And he’s helped out lots of other farmers when they needed it. I’m sure someone will be willing to return the favour.’
‘That’s true.’ Ava flicked her hair over her shoulder. ‘He’s always ploughing for Ian down the road, and he helped Gordon with the harvest just a couple of months ago.’
‘Yes,’ Carla said. ‘Hopefully we can work something out.’
‘You will.’ Hayley released her and got to her feet. ‘Does anyone want a coffee or anything? I’m going to get one.’ Everyone except Oliver declined. He looked like he needed something to keep him going. Hayley slipped her shoes on and left the room. What would they talk about now she was gone? Would any of them speak at all?
The café had a short queue, and she wasn’t away for long, but when she got back, Neil was awake. She slipped in beside Oliver and handed him his coffee, catching the end of a conversation that seemed to be proving him right.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Neil said. ‘I know friends and neighbours who’ll help out and lend us farmhands to feed cattle when necessary.’ He gave Oliver a funny look. ‘I didn’t expect you to be here. Does this mean we’ll see you at Christmas? Or have we used up our quota?’
Hayley sat down with a sigh.
Neil frowned at her like he was about to say something, but returned his focus to Oliver almost immediately as Oliver shrugged a noncommittal response.
Hayley sipped her coffee. So much repair work was needed here.
An awkward silence ensued. Hayley usually covered gaps like this; it was a skill she’d picked up after her parents split when she’d been the peacekeeper. Since working at the hairdresser, she’d perfected it for dealing with tricky clients, but she found herself lost for words. No wonder Oliver didn’t want to spend Christmas with them. That would be a special kind of torture.
‘I don’t know you, do I?’ Neil turned his gaze to her.
‘Hayley,’ she said. ‘Finlay’s sister, you know, Oliver’s friend.’
‘Ah, right.’ He gave her a quizzical look, then turned to Oliver like he expected more information.
‘I’m glad you got through this,’ she went on. ‘Only sorry to meet you under such difficult circumstances.’
‘We should go.’ Oliver checked his phone. ‘Unless you want to stay.’
‘I don’t mind,’ she said, though she didn’t really want to hang about.
Oliver got to his feet. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re ok. And if you want me to investigate anything regarding work cover, let me know.’
Neil opened his mouth and Hayley was certain it was to scoff or make a snippy comment, but Carla spoke first. ‘Thank you. We will. And Hayley, it’s been very nice to meet you.’
As Hayley and Oliver made their way out, she heard Neil say, ‘Who is she anyway, and why was she dressed like that?’
Oliver let out an audible sigh as they left the ward. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be. At least it turned out ok… Kind of.’
‘I can’t thank you enough.’
‘You don’t need to thank me at all.’ Though she wished she dared ask him if this was the end to what they’d started yesterday. This wasn’t a good moment to bring up the subject. ‘These heels are killing me,’ she said. ‘And I need to change out of this dress.’
‘Yeah. I appreciate what you did in there.’
‘Anytime, but let’s hope there isn’t another time like that.’
Their conversation was muted and vague as Oliver drove home, partially from a lack of sleep, but also because she wasn’t sure what to say under the circumstances.
When he dropped her off at her flat, he gave her a wistful look. ‘Thanks again.’
‘If you need me to visit again with you, give me a call,’ she said as she got out of the car.
He linked eyes with her. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’
‘Don’t. Just let me know if you need anything. And call Finlay. He’ll want to know too.’
‘I will.’
That wasn’t how she’d planned to spend the weekend. Her days were so eaten into with the Christmas prep that she had no idea when she’d fit anything else in, but if Oliver called, she’d try.
The following weekend, she had an early Christmas dinner with her dad. Finlay and Genevieve travelled to Dundee with her. She always loved seeing her dad, even if his new partner, Liz, was a bit overbearing. Dressed in a saucy Mrs Claus outfit, she had Finlay rolling his eyes within seconds.
‘Her dress sense is mental,’ he said. But it went well with her equally tacky taste in Christmas decorations. She looked like she’d been to a home store and bought something of everything. Tinsel tat was everywhere, along with flashing lights and annoying singing Santas and Grinches on every shelf.
Hayley had got used to her over time and while none of this was to her taste, she’d learned to laugh it off. Genevieve was probably inwardly horrified. Her parents put on the ultimate tasteful Christmas. But she was grinning too.
‘That was bad about Oliver’s dad, wasn’t it?’ Finlay said, as they sat in the living room. Dad was at his built-in bar, pouring drinks, wearing his Santa hat.
‘Yeah. It was.’
Finlay shook his head and sighed. ‘I’m so fecking glad you were with him. He’d have gone off the rails otherwise.’
Heat burned in Hayley’s neck. Oliver had told Finlay she was there? On what pretence?
‘Honestly, I remember when his mum died. We were only eleven. Mum told me to stick with him no matter what and I did, but jeez, he was in a bad way. He’s never fully recovered. I think it’s like some kind of PTSD.’
‘So horrible.’
Finlay put his arm around her. ‘Thanks for helping him. I know he’s been a dick to you at times, but he must be coming around a bit. Weren’t you visiting the sten location together when he got the call?’
‘Yeah. At least that’s all booked up.’
‘It sounds amazing,’ Genevieve said.
‘Ah, yes, the sten.’ Dad came over with drinks. ‘Liz and I are looking forward to it.’
Finlay exchanged a glance with Hayley and they both tried not to laugh. Dad loved parties, but sometimes he was wild.
This was just the first half of her family Christmas.
Christmas proper was spent with her mum. She’d texted Oliver loads to check he was ok, and he seemed to be, though he didn’t seem to want to see her. Well, she had to take that on the chin. Being with her mum was always fun enough to forget her worries. Finlay and Genevieve came over for Christmas day and Genevieve’s parents also dropped by.
Hayley messaged Oliver as they sat around the living room, opening presents.
HAYLEY: Merry Christmas! Hope you’re having a good one.
She saw the bouncing dots almost straight away.
OLIVER: Thanks. Merry Christmas to you too.
Well, that reply told her nothing. Was he alone? Had he decided to go to his family? When she’d asked about his dad previously, he said he was out of hospital and doing ok, but that was it.
What had she expected? She could ask Finlay, but she didn’t want to sound over-curious, and he’d probably tell her anyway if something really bad had happened. So no news was good news, right?
To add to all the Christmas mayhem, her friend Felicity was getting married on the twenty-ninth of December. Hayley headed to her house to do her bridal hair before the wedding. It was bright and frosty, perfect conditions for beautiful winter wedding photos.
‘You look stunning,’ Hayley told Felicity as she stroked her hair into an elegant chignon, leaving only a delicate, coiled strand free. Her chief bridesmaid was Briony, the owner of the Loch View Hotel, and Hayley did her hair next. Briony kept her hair shoulder length and wasn’t keen on wearing it up, so she fixed it to the side with a sparkly flower clip.
Next, she worked on Felicity’s other bridesmaids, her two younger sisters. Both of them were equally pretty as their big sister and also had beautiful long blonde hair. When they were all done, Hayley packed up her stuff, changed into a long pink dress, fur coat and fascinator, and headed for the beautiful Glenbriar Church. The path to it was covered in ice crystals, not enough to be treacherous, but enough to make it sparkle like it was encrusted with glitter. Hayley smiled. How perfect was this? The wedding photos would be so gorgeous, with the pretty old stone church building and the River Briar in the background.
She made her way inside and shuffled into a pew next to a familiar face.
‘Hello,’ she said to Zach Somerton, Briony’s husband.
He nodded at her. ‘Hi.’
‘And how’s little Leia?’ Hayley smiled at the cute little toddler on his lap and tickled her under the chin. She had the sweetest little grin and masses of beautiful curls, not unlike her dad, though Zach’s hair was almost black, and Leia’s was much lighter, like her mum’s.
‘She’s good,’ Zach said in his low American accent. ‘She’s dressed as a bridesmaid, but she’s keeping me company for the service. It’s easier this way.’
‘She looks so adorable in that dress.’ It was all frills and lace with a little fur bolero.
‘Yeah.’ Zach kissed her head, and an emptiness struck deep inside Hayley, an ache she longed to be filled. Would it ever be her? Would she ever find someone to be with and to have children with? Someone who would be a doting dad, like Zach. Someone like Gavin, Felicity’s husband-to-be, who stood at the front dressed in a kilt and sash, looking confident and dapper, only betraying a few nerves as he adjusted his cufflinks once too often while chatting to his best man.
Where’s the one for me? And why did her mind race back to Oliver every time she thought about this kind of thing? Even if Oliver was ‘the one’, he wanted different things. He didn’t want to marry, have kids or stay in Glenbriar, but she did. She wanted a life here with everything familiar. Getting married and having kids was a life goal she didn’t want to give up. The simple answer was to forget Oliver and get on with living her life, but forgetting Oliver wasn’t as easy as all that.
The soft background music changed, and people shuffled in their seats as the minister made his way to the front. Hayley watched him shake hands with Gavin before the bridal march started and everyone stood up. Felicity’s surname was Swan, and really it suited her so much. She glided down the aisle almost like she was on water. Her fishtail dress fanned into a train at the back that rustled along behind her.
‘Mumma,’ Leia called as Briony passed. She turned and waved to her daughter.
Zach lifted Leia up high and whispered in her ear, ‘Wave to Mommy.’
By the time Felicity reached the front and Gavin took her hands in his, Hayley’s eyes were bursting with tears. Weddings always did this to her, but this was worse than normal.
When the ceremony was over, she hung around outside with the other guests, throwing confetti and chatting with Fee McKenzie, a colleague of Felicity’s and a hair client of Hayley’s.
‘What a stunning ceremony.’ Fee rested her hands on her young daughter’s shoulders. ‘Felicity is just beautiful.’
‘She really is,’ Hayley agreed.
‘And Rosie just loved her dress, didn’t you, darling?’
Little Rosie nodded and twirled her hair around her finger. She must be about eight or nine and Hayley remembered being that age, looking at brides and loving the dresses. She’d even bought bridal magazines as a teenager. She gave herself a mental shake. Seriously she needed to stop thinking like this.
Normally, she was all in for celebrations and events, especially the dancing, but her heart just wasn’t in it. Finding people to talk to and dance with wasn’t a problem. The fact none of them were Oliver was. Why the hell can I not stop thinking about him?
She pulled her phone from her little bag while people at her table chatted and others danced to ‘The Macarena’. She had loads of messages, but none from him. Not that she expected any. Still… She fired off a message.
HAYLEY: Hi. How are you? Hope your dad’s ok. What did you do for Christmas? Finlay and Genevieve are totally looking forward to the sten. What about you? Maybe we could dance again *wink emoji*. I’m at a wedding and nobody has moves quite as good as us *more wink emojis*.
She smirked as she sent it. Maybe if she hadn’t had quite so much prosecco, she wouldn’t have.
‘Hey, Hayley,’ a man’s voice said.
She checked up to see a tall, swarthy guy with a crooked grin looking down at her. Brann, a local builder and friend of Finlay’s from the tug-of-war team. He was handsome in a rough-around-the-edges way and he had a bit of a reputation for making the ladies in the town swoon – her mother for one, even though he was way too young for her. Though, come to think on it, she wasn’t sure what age he was, but he was smiling right at her.
‘You ok?’ He sat down opposite her.
‘Fine.’ She aimed for her most casual smile and took a sip of her drink.
‘Yeah?’ He cocked his head like he didn’t really believe her. ‘You look a bit lonely sat over here all by yourself. You’re normally in the thick of things, giving it your all on the dance floor.’ He put out his arms and did a silly wiggle.
She laughed. ‘Yeah. I should be, shouldn’t I?’
‘Only if you want to. Are you here on your own?’ He scanned around like he was expecting a partner to materialise out of the woodwork.
‘Yup, just me on my ownsome.’
‘Me too. Fancy a dance with a sad old lonely guy?’
She held her hand to her mouth, barely hiding her giggle. ‘You really know how to sell yourself, don’t you?’
He held up his hands. ‘What you see is what you get.’
‘I’m sure you’re not that old, but yeah, I’d like a dance.’
‘Well, let’s just say the next big birthday has a four in it and it’s fast approaching.’
‘That’s not old.’ Hayley got to her feet and Brann followed.
‘How’s Finlay?’ he asked.
‘Getting ready for his own big day.’
‘Ah yes. I got an invitation to the sten. Sounds like quite a do.’
‘I hope so. It took long enough to arrange and to find something we thought everyone would like. Are you coming to it?’
‘Sure, sounds like a laugh, though I hope there are better chefs there than me. I’m not sure people will want to eat what I cook.’ He led her to the floor.
‘Same. I hope the cooking is very step-by-step and completely foolproof.’
Abba’s ‘Dancing Queen’ came on and Brann smirked at Hayley. She burst out laughing.
‘Ok, this dance will be mad.’
Brann took her hands, and they did their own thing, which actually wasn’t too bad. Oliver wouldn’t have managed this level of wild… And there she went again, thinking about him. Where the dance with him had been hot, this was just crazy, but a lot of fun. Brann twirled her and they jived, laughing the whole time.
‘That’s cheered you up.’ He smiled as the song came to a close. ‘You looked a bit sad sitting there.’
She fanned her face. ‘Yeah, thanks. That was fun.’
‘You missing somebody, by any chance?’
‘Is it that obvious?’
His lip quirked at one corner. ‘Kind of. You just looked how I felt. The way you were texting. I dunno. I thought maybe there was someone you wished was here. It’s not easy being on your own at things like this.’
His lopsided grin held a touch of melancholy, but at the same time it was obvious why women swooned over him. He wasn’t just a looker; he was thoughtful too.
‘Well, thanks for saving me.’
‘You don’t look like you need saving, just someone who might like to talk about random shit with another person all on their lonesome…’
‘Sounds like the ideal plan.’
He grinned again. ‘So, how do you know the bride and groom?’
‘I’m Felicity’s hairdresser. How about you?’ she fired back as they sat back down.
‘I’m their builder.’
‘What are you building for them?’
‘A house.’
‘Oh yeah. I forgot they’re building their own house. Or I should say you’re building it for them. Is it amazing?’
‘I hope it is when it’s finished.’ He pulled a face. ‘The plans are ambitious and this is my first really big project. My business has expanded and I’m doing it with family now. So, it’s a bit of a test. Nerve-wracking too, because I want it all to be perfect for them.’
‘I’m sure it’ll be great. You’ve got a lot of experience and I’ve only ever heard good stuff about you.’ Though she wouldn’t repeat half of it to his face… Like the stories of bored housewives hiring him to fix minor issues just so they could ogle the man at work.
‘That’s a relief anyway.’ He laughed. ‘Shall we get another drink?’
‘Why not?’ She picked up her bag and went to the bar with him. As they waited for drinks, she pulled out her phone and checked her messages. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Oliver’s name on the screen.
‘Good result?’ Brann said as she glanced at him.
‘Let’s see.’ She opened the message and read.
OLIVER: Hey. Sorry, I didn’t reply properly to your other messages. Christmas isn’t exactly my favourite time of year. I went to Dad’s, and he’s doing ok. Frustrated more than anything that he can’t really do much. To say I’m looking forward to the sten would be over-exaggerating, however, that said, I am looking forward to seeing you again. Maybe I’m crazy, but I miss you. Enjoy the wedding.
She stared at the screen.
‘Well?’ Brann handed her a drink.
‘He misses me.’
‘Result.’ Brann clinked his glass on hers.
It was beyond unexpected. But where did it leave her?