Epilogue
Joy took a moment to surreptitiously look at Ed out of the corner of her eye. He was fastened up to his chin in a great woollen ex-military coat, and she knew from her previous acquaintance with the man that he was buttoned up in more ways than one. He seemed happy to sit in silence, though, despite the fact the picnic bench was freezing, and simply look at the great oak, festooned in all its festive glory. This pleased Joy, as she wasn’t a great talker herself, provided the silence was comfortable which with this quiet man it always seemed to be.
At length he cleared his throat three times in quick succession as if trying to force the words out and said, “So pretty, all the lights and baubles. You know, my mother would never let me come up here?”
“Really?”
“No, she said it would be full of drunkards and ne’er-do-wells.” The way he spoke, with such an old-fashioned seriousness, made Joy smile, though she angled her gaze towards the tree so as not to embarrass him. His old trout of a mother had a lot to answer for though, not that Joy felt it was her place to say that.
“Well, I think when people comment on things they’ve never personally experienced, they tend to do so from a place of ignorance,” Joy said gently.
“Quite so, quite so. Anyway, thank you for accompanying me to the party today. If you hadn’t suggested it I would not have ventured up here by myself. And it really has been the perfect afternoon.”
“Well, us art class students have to stick together,” Joy said, knowing full well that wasn’t the only reason she’d asked him to the village Christmas festivities at the Olde Oak Tree Inn.
“We do indeed,” Ed lapsed back into silence, the small beat of his gloved finger on the table the only indication he was trying to build up the courage to extend the conversation.
“So, do you have any other hobbies, other than antiques and amateur oil painting?” Like perhaps mentoring other shop owners who have taken on far too much and could do with a strategy to help manage things, who really need someone very organised to help them order their scattered brain. Know anyone like that?
“Well, er, there’s reading, of course, and militaria… probably not much anyone would find interesting.
“My dad was in the RAF, actually,” Joy smiled, hoping to put the man more at ease. Such an upright back she’d never seen, no slouching here. It even encouraged her to alter her own posture, though the restrictive bench made it difficult as she wasn’t the slimmest of women to say the least. “Cuddly, like a wall of cushions,” her daughter had joked once when she was nine, and the description had stayed as a little joke between the two of them.
“Really? What squadron?”
“Number seventy-two. We lived in Fife for a while when I was growing up, at Leuchars air base. I love reading too, obviously, as I’ve opened a little bookshop,” okay, moving towards the ulterior motive nicely…
“Yes, I walked past Cheen Cheer yesterday and I must say I was very impressed by the window display. All Dickens’ ‘A Christmas Carol’ themed, very clever, you’re very talented.”
“Oh! Thank you, well, as long as you don’t have ‘Great Expectations’ for future displays, design really isn’t my thing it’s more my daughter’s. Unless it’s flowers of course, then I love to play with different arrangements.”
Ed smiled, an expression which reached right up to his eyes and brought out the fine lines in the outer corners, having clearly understood her small joke. Joy began to realise they had a lot more in common than simply both being business owners in a tiny corner of Northumberland.
“Well, I’d say you’re more gifted in that department than you realise,” Ed spoke softly, giving her his full attention and Joy felt a small butterfly take flight in her stomach. A rare feeling, last experienced when she signed the papers to acquire the old gallery on Castle View from Josh Carter.
Joy blushed lightly at the compliment. She was so mature, so refined, Ed knew she was the only hope he had of fulfilling the requirements of the Codicil his mother had added to her Last Will and Testament in the final few months of her life. He didn’t want to use this lovely woman though, there would have to be something in it for her too, to make the agreement fair for both sides, he just hadn’t thought yet what that could be. Time, that harsh mistress, was not on his side.
He hoped Joy didn’t suspect him of having an ulterior motive for inviting her out here to spend a quiet moment by the tree, just the two of them. It had been rather bold and decidedly out of character, for them both judging by the way her eyes had widened and her mouth formed an ‘o’ at his suggestion. Though she had certainly seemed as ready to escape the loud music and partying as he.
“Ah, thank you, that’s very kind,” Joy accepted his words with a delayed reply and a light shake of her head, as if she didn’t have the self-confidence to actually believe them. Ed wondered why that was, and made a mental note to always point out her strengths as he saw them.
Sad, he thought, since she’s clearly an accomplished businesswoman. One who has raised a child single-handedly, too. And that’s no easy feat, as Mother kept telling me.
The bells on the tree began to jingle merrily in the soft breeze as a flurry of snowflakes began to fall around them.
“Those who have bet on a white Christmas might get their wish after all,” Joy whispered, deliberately angling her head to catch a few wet droplets on her face, “though for us it means we should probably be getting back inside. Thank you, Ed, for being such good company.”
She sighed and stood slowly, unaware of how Ed’s heart hammered inside his chest and his breathing became more erratic.
Quick man! This is your last chance, you’ve been putting it off all afternoon!
“You’re welcome Joy, and thank you again for the kind invitation. Just ah, one last question, if I may?”
Joy turned back, her expression quizzical though she smiled encouragingly and gave one brisk nod of her head, “Of course.”
“Would you… would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
Can Joy give Ed the answer he needs to keep his life on an even keel?
Or is his outrageous request a leap too far?