Chapter Eighteen
Imogen woke on Tuesday morning to the sound of rain battering against the window.
It was December now, the month of excess food and sparkles, heightened love and heartache, everything upped to the max, drawing out family resentments, credit cards from purses and long agonized-over declarations.
And, in the case of Mistingham, wintry weather.
She stood at the window, unable to see the rooftops through the blur of rain, and thought about all the things she had to be excited about.
She was going to pay Birdie back for her kindness, and do a scene with Dexter for the Christmas event, while also making sure her crush on him didn’t turn into proper feelings.
‘Imogen!’ Birdie called up the stairs.
‘I’m coming!’ she shouted down. ‘Let me make breakfast.’ She pulled on jeans and a jumper, grabbed Birdie’s green coat. ‘I’ll go and get a fresh loaf.’
‘You don’t have to,’ Birdie said, but with a knowing smirk that Imogen chose to ignore.
‘I’ll be back in five minutes.’
She pulled up her hood and stepped outside, grateful when the rain slowed to a drizzle once she started walking.
Mistingham was under low-hanging cloud, but the Christmas lights twinkled and she could hear the waves in the distance, and there were still people bustling about.
In fact, there was a whole group of them on the village green.
She spotted May, Harry and Sophie, then Fiona, Jazz and – she sucked in a breath – Dexter.
‘Hello,’ she said, unable to hide her curiosity. ‘What’s happening?’
They all looked up, and Harry grimaced.
‘What is it?’ Imogen came to a stop next to Fiona, and saw what they were looking at: a large pile of mistletoe, dumped in the middle of the grass. Her water-based spray paint had been no match for the coastal squall, and it all looked sad and bedraggled. ‘Oh,’ she said.
‘Someone’s gone round the village and collected most of what we gifted and put up for the wedding,’ Harry said, his arms folded.
‘Why, though?’ Sophie asked.
Imogen noticed Sophie’s jacket was on inside-out, and remembered that they were due to go on their honeymoon today – a week in Italy. They clearly didn’t have time for this.
‘Not everyone was happy I’d sprayed it,’ she said.
‘We sprayed it,’ Dexter corrected. ‘You didn’t do it on your own.’
‘I came up with the plan, though.’ She had thought that giving the mistletoe a glow-up and gifting it to people was a fairly harmless thing to do.
‘Frank and Valerie weren’t thrilled about it,’ Jazz said. ‘They’ve mentioned it at every Story Time session.’
‘Frank and Valerie wouldn’t have the energy to pluck mistletoe from every door in the village,’ Fiona scoffed. ‘And why? If this is some kind of protest against the harming of the natural world …’
‘Maybe it’s someone who doesn’t like me being in the village?’ Imogen said.
Dexter was beside her in an instant, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He was wearing his navy jacket – definitely not waterproof – and smelt of sugar. ‘That’s not the case. Everyone’s happy you’re here. Please don’t think that for a second.’
‘I’m so sorry this has upset you.’ May was wearing a yellow mac, the hood pushed down, tendrils of her dark hair wisping around her face. ‘Whoever has done it is a total grinch.’
‘What are we going to do with it?’ Sophie asked.
‘You’re not going to do anything with it,’ Fiona said. ‘You’re going on honeymoon. I’ll get Ermin to bring his van around, and we can take it to the compost pile at the allotment.’
‘And at least it’s decorated the village for a few weeks,’ Harry said. ‘When I got the delivery, I thought I’d have to junk most of it straight away. Thanks for offering to clear it up, Fiona.’
‘I’ll help,’ Jazz said. ‘My shift at the hotel doesn’t start until later.’
‘I can, too,’ Imogen said.
‘And me,’ May added. ‘You two get your bags, get to Norwich Airport. Are you sure you don’t need a lift?’
‘Winnie’s going into Norwich today anyway,’ Sophie said. ‘She’s probably waiting for us.’
There were hugs and another round of congratulations, and then the newlyweds were gone, and the rest of them were left with the forlorn pile of mistletoe.
Fiona went into general mode, and soon she and Ermin, Jazz, Jason from Two Scoops, Dexter and Imogen were piling it into Ermin’s van with the help of spades and gloves.
‘How long are you staying?’ May asked Imogen as they worked side by side. ‘Do you know yet?’
‘I haven’t decided. I’ll need to face the music eventually.’
‘Hopefully it will have faded to a gentle ditty, rather than a symphony with a full orchestra,’ Fiona said, and Imogen laughed.
‘You’ve not met my parents. But at least I’m being their disgraced daughter at a distance, which must be less embarrassing for them. They’re probably hoping everyone will be distracted by Christmas, and when I sneak back they’ll all have forgotten about it.’
‘Your parents are worried about you embarrassing them?’ May sounded horrified.
‘Constantly.’ Imogen said it with a smile, because it was best to make light of it.
‘You’re staying for Christmas, then?’ Jazz asked. ‘More Story Time once we’ve finished Dickens?’
‘Absolutely.’ She loved the sessions with Jazz, and was enjoying getting to know the villagers who turned up, young and old.
‘Amazing.’ Jazz grinned. ‘You’re a hit with everyone, and the tag team is better for my voice.’
‘If you’re staying, you have to come up with a play for our Christmas event,’ Fiona said brusquely. ‘No excuses. And I bet Birdie will love having you for the festive period.’
‘I hope so. My family has been estranged from her for so long, but it shouldn’t have taken me needing an escape hatch to come and see her.’
‘You’re here now though,’ Jazz said, ‘and life is too short for regrets. You need to make the most of what you’ve got, surround yourself with people who are on your wavelength.’
Imogen couldn’t help glancing at Dexter, and found he was already looking at her. He was holding a shovel, had no gloves on, and his coat was drenched. She gave him a quick smile and looked away.
‘You don’t need to worry about the play, Fiona,’ he said. ‘Imogen and I are doing something together.’
‘Is that the case?’ Fiona narrowed her eyes. ‘I thought you were crying off, using mince pie duty as an excuse.’
Dexter looked at his boots, and Imogen bit her lip. She didn’t know he had already ducked out of performing, and tried not to read anything into his easy acceptance when she’d suggested they do a scene together.
‘I can do the mince pies any time, really,’ he said. ‘And I’m up for embarrassing myself. I don’t want to be accused of being a grinch.’
‘Well done that woman.’ Fiona gave Imogen an appraising look. ‘Refusing to inhabit your dramatic side is hardly the same as mistletoe sabotage, but I am genuinely pleased you’re getting involved.’
‘We’ve not started rehearsing yet,’ Imogen said. ‘It might be a total disaster. Not because of Dexter, but …’
‘Frank and Valerie are doing a music hall number,’ Jazz said. ‘I’m not saying that’ll be a disaster, but it’s certainly going to be interesting.’
‘The whole thing will be marvellous,’ Ermin said magnanimously. ‘I was worried we’d end up with a soggy, dispirited Oak Fest. It’s so generous of Mr and Mrs Anderly to let us take over the manor.’
‘Mr and Mrs Anderly!’ Fiona chortled. ‘Who would have forecast that?’
‘Just about everyone, from the moment I arrived here,’ Jazz said.
‘I got to Mistingham last November,’ she told Imogen.
‘Sophie and Harry were hiding their true feelings behind a lorry-load of bickering, but it was pretty obvious they were falling for each other. Anyway, the Oak Fest went ahead but there was a proper winter storm – and a power cut.’
‘Yes, but that only lasted a few hours,’ Ermin said. ‘This is meant to be a week-long snowstorm. It’s good to change things up, anyway.’
‘It sounds dreamy,’ Imogen said. ‘The plays and the snow. I’m glad I can be here for it.’ She flung another bundle of mistletoe into the back of Ermin’s van. ‘I need to do something else useful, though – aside from convincing the local baker to put his acting pants on.’
Dexter grinned at her, and she tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach.
‘What did you do for a job, in London?’ Jazz asked. ‘Or what do you still do, I guess?’
‘I’m a PA at my dad’s law firm.’
‘You’ve already been so helpful,’ May said.
‘And if you did want something to do, we’ve got the new community hub in the hotel.
They moved the post office there when it was going to be shut down a couple of years ago, and there’s a community kitchen now too – Winnie and Mary have gone all in.
The hub’s for tourist information and general enquiries, with a couple of computers for silver surfers or job applications, people who want to access online courses.
I’m sure they could do with some help covering it, and you’d be perfect. ’
‘You really think they’ll want me? I’ve only been here a few weeks.’
‘They would bite your hand off,’ Fiona said. ‘Mary told me they’ve had people asking for help with Christmas shopping, and you’ve already proved how creative you are. And a lot of villagers already know you from your Story Time sessions. It’s a wonderful plan.’
‘OK,’ Imogen said. ‘I’ll speak to them. If I can help in the run-up to Christmas, then I will.’
‘Perfect,’ May said. ‘And look – it’s done. The green has been returned to its former glory, and the compost heap is going to be happy with all its new greenery.’
‘We’ve also come up with a job for Imogen,’ Fiona said, ‘and I made Dexter blush.’
‘I did not blush!’ Dexter ran a hand through his sodden curls.
‘You blushed when I implied your change of heart about performing had something to do with Imogen.’
‘Right guys, this impromptu clean-up session has been great, but I’ve left Luke on his own at the bakery and he’ll be rushed off his feet. I need to get back.’
‘Bye Dexter,’ Fiona said sweetly.
‘See you later.’ As he was leaving, he caught Imogen’s eye, and she was sure his smile kicked up a fraction.
‘Bye,’ she called, and after she’d watched him disappear around the corner, she realized everyone was looking at her.
She would have to work extra hard on managing her Dexter crush, otherwise she was going to find herself in serious trouble – and she’d already caused enough of that to last her a lifetime.