Chapter 15
Kazz hadn’t seen the point in keeping the bookshop open beyond five p.m. this evening, as Tanglewood’s Christmas lights were being officially switched on later. Not wanting to miss out on the excitement (she’d take what she could get these days), she locked up and hurried up the road, heading for the Christmas tree which had been erected at the opposite end of the village from the river, near to where the nativity scene was located. It was also rumoured that Santa Claus would be putting in an appearance, and Stevie and Betty had arranged to supply mulled wine and hot chocolate to keep people warm.
Stevie already had a queue of customers when Kazz arrived, and she made a beeline for it.
‘Do you need a hand?’ she asked, sniffing the delicious blend of spices and alcohol.
‘We can manage, thanks,’ her friend said. ‘Here, have some wine.’
Kazz took the proffered plastic glass and lifted it to her nose, breathing deeply. When she took a mouthful, she discovered that it tasted even better than it smelled.
Leaving Stevie to her customers, Kazz wandered off, sipping at her wine and soaking in the atmosphere.
She was beginning to recognise a few people (outside of her immediate friendship group of Stevie and the other bridesmaids) and it gave her a warm feeling when several of them smiled at her, and some even stopped for a quick chat.
One of those who did was Iris, Saul’s mum. She introduced the man with her as her husband, Geoff. Kazz gazed at him curiously, noting the resemblance between him and Saul.
‘How are you finding Tanglewood?’ he asked.
‘It’s lovely,’ she replied. ‘Quieter than London, obviously, but I’m getting used to it.’
‘I hear you’re off to visit the local whisky house tomorrow,’ Geoff said. ‘Don’t get too drunk, will you?’
Kazz laughed. ‘I won’t. I’ll make sure I have something substantial to eat beforehand.’
‘She used to be a chef, Geoff,’ Iris said. ‘I expect she’s got a three-course meal lined up for her lunch.’
‘Not really,’ Kazz said. ‘I’ll probably have a bowl of pasta.’
Iris’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You’re not having a Sunday roast?’
‘I don’t usually make that kind of effort just for me,’ she said. But it would be nice to make the effort for other people, and she reminded herself that she should cook a meal for everyone who had helped her to set the bookshop up. She wouldn’t be able to accommodate everyone in the flat, but perhaps she could persuade Stevie to loan her the tea shop and its kitchen for an evening.
‘That’s settled,’ Iris said. There was an air of finality in her voice and Kazz realised she must have missed something important while she had been daydreaming.
‘What is?’ she asked.
‘Sunday lunch. You’re coming to us.’
She was?
‘Saul can pick you up; he may as well, seeing as the pair of you are going to the distillery afterwards. Leanne and Rex will be there, too.’
‘Right… er, thank you. That will be lovely.’
‘I’m not the best cook in the world, mind,’ Iris warned, ‘but I’ve been told my roast dinners aren’t too bad.’
Geoff blustered, ‘ Aren’t too bad? They’re bloody marvellous, and don’t let her tell you otherwise. My wife is being modest.’
‘I’m looking forward to it,’ Kazz said truthfully. ‘I haven’t had a roast dinner in ages. Can I bring something? Wine? Dessert?’
‘Just yourself,’ Iris said when Geoff’s eyes lit up. She elbowed him. ‘You’re not having wine on a Sunday lunchtime. You’ll be good for nothing in the afternoon.’ She said to Kazz, ‘I’ll tell Saul to fetch you at twelve thirty,’ then glanced over Kazz’s shoulder. ‘Ooh, look, they’re about to turn the lights on.’
A hush fell over the crowd as a middle-aged bloke in a calf-length woollen coat approached a small rostrum on which a fake red button had been placed. He gave a speech, which Kazz only half-listened to, as she was too busy thinking of what she could take to lunch tomorrow, because there was no way she was going to arrive empty-handed. Her automatic choice would have been wine (Iris had scuppered that) or flowers, but since Iris’s daughter was a florist, Kazz guessed they wouldn’t be the best idea. Neither did she want to be presumptuous and bring dessert.
Chocolates, then – or better still, she would make some fudge.
‘Five, four, three…’ Everyone around her was chanting and Kazz joined in, clapping and cheering with the rest of the villagers when the chap pressed the fake button with both hands, and the tree promptly lit up, along with the nativity scene.
She had to admit that it did look lovely, and when a jolly old man in a red suit came into view on a cart drawn by two small ponies, she found herself smiling widely.
With the prospect of a Sunday roast followed by a tour of a whisky distillery tomorrow, things were starting to look up. Maybe living in Tanglewood wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
The sweet vanilla scent of the fudge that Kazz had baked earlier clung to her skin as she quickly packed the delicious squares of yumminess into a basket, and trotted down the spiral staircase at the rear of the flat and then through the small enclosed courtyard and onto the street.
She had deliberately left the lights on in the window of the bookshop, and she was pleased to see how warm and welcoming it looked. It was like sneaking a peek into Charles Dickens’s living room. Funnily enough, she had placed several copies of his books on the little side table, along with a pair of old-fashioned spectacles, and a china cup and saucer, borrowed from Stevie’s tea shop. It looked as though someone had been in the middle of reading one of those books, and had popped out of the room for a minute.
The deep burble of a diesel engine interrupted her musing and she glanced up the street to see Saul’s Land Rover pootling along the road.
‘Wow! You smell nice,’ he said, when she got in.
‘It’s not me, it’s the fudge. I made a batch for your mum as a thank you for inviting me to lunch.’
Saul leant towards her and sniffed. ‘No, it’s definitely you. You could bottle that and sell it as perfume. You smell good enough to eat.’
She was about to make a sassy retort, when she caught his eye and the words died on her lips. There was a hunger in his expression that had nothing to do with the fudge she was holding.
Flustered, she dropped her gaze, only raising it again when the vehicle began to move, after he’d shifted back into the driver’s seat.
She was aware of him sending her little glances out of the corner of his eye, but she kept hers firmly on the road beyond the windscreen. Neither of them said anything during the five-minute drive to the farm, and Kazz hoped the rest of the day wouldn’t feel as awkward.
But when the Land Rover came to a halt in the cobbled farmyard, the tension that had been present on the short journey seemed to fade away.
A black and white sheepdog with a sweeping wagging tail was responsible for the change in atmosphere.
‘Hello, girl,’ Saul said, bending to ruffle her ears. The dog promptly dropped to the ground and flopped onto her back, exposing her tummy.
‘This is Tam,’ he said. ‘She’s the best sheepdog on the farm. Aren’t you, girl?’
He crouched down to stroke the dog’s tummy, and Tam lay there, her soft brown gaze locking adoringly onto the man who was paying her such lovely attention. There was something incredibly sweet about seeing Saul pet his dog, and the answering love in the animal’s eyes for her human made Kazz feel quite gooey.
‘Come say hello to Kazz,’ he said to the dog, and Tam got to her feet and padded over.
Kazz stroked her head, marvelling at how silky her ears were. She quite liked dogs, although she hadn’t much experience with them.
Tam wagged her tail enthusiastically.
‘She likes you,’ Saul said. ‘You’re honoured. She normally only tolerates other people.’
‘She can probably smell the fudge.’
‘I don’t think that’s the only reason.’ Saul had that look in his eyes again, but this time, instead of backing away, Kazz returned his gaze.
A tingle went through her, catching her unawares, and she shivered.
‘Let’s get you inside,’ he said, placing a hand on the small of her back.
The tingle intensified at his touch. Even through her clothes, she could feel the warmth of his hand and it was doing strange things to her insides.
Saul ushered her into the house, thankfully oblivious to her thudding heart. No wonder Leanne had warned her against him. Until now, Saul hadn’t turned the charm on, but now that he had, Kazz was disorientated. The world had turned ever so slightly on its axis, as though she was a planet feeling the pull of a new sun.
Stop being so fanciful , she scolded herself silently as she walked into a bright and airy kitchen filled with the mouth-watering aroma of roast lamb.
Iris was at the sink, but as soon as she saw Kazz, she dried her hands on a towel and came in for a quick hug.
Kazz said, ‘These are for you.’ She passed the basket to Iris, who looked surprised. ‘Fudge,’ she added. ‘I couldn’t come empty-handed.’
‘You shouldn’t have. But thank you anyway. I love fudge, and so does Geoff.’
She put it to one side and returned to the sink.
‘Can I do anything to help?’ Kazz again.
‘It’s all under control. You go sit yourself down in the living room. Saul, where are your manners? Hang Kazz’s coat up.’
Saul pulled a face, and Kazz pressed her lips together, trying not to smile.
She was about to hand him her coat, when Iris cried, ‘Drat!’ She was squinting through the kitchen window. ‘That damned sheep! Saul, do something about Donald; he’s in my vegetable patch.’
‘How did he escape this time?’ Saul asked.
‘I’ve no idea, but unless he wants to be next Sunday’s lunch, you’d better get him out of there fast.’
Kazz craned her neck to see, and spotted a white woolly creature munching away quite happily on what appeared to be a row of cabbages.
With an apologetic grimace, Saul moved towards the door.
‘Can I come?’ Kazz asked. She had never seen a sheep close up. And she didn’t want to be left alone with his parents, trying to find something to say.
He glanced at her footwear. ‘What size shoe do you take?’
‘Five. Why?’
He didn’t answer; instead, he bent down, picked up a Wellington boot and peered inside. ‘Put these on. They’re a bit big, but they’ll do.’
Kazz eased off her suede ankle boots and shoved her feet into the wellies, then put her coat back on.
Saul held the door open for her, and a blast of icy air hit her as she went outside.
‘The temperature is dropping,’ Saul announced. ‘There’ll be a hard frost tonight.’
‘No snow?’
‘Not yet. But I wouldn’t be surprised to see some before the month is out.’
‘I adore snow,’ Kazz replied, trudging after him in the clumpy wellies.
‘Oi! Donald!’ Saul yelled, making her jump. He clapped his hands, and the sheep lifted his head. Kazz saw a dark green leaf protruding from the side of its mouth as it chewed.
The animal gave a rumbling bleat.
‘Come on,’ he called to it.
The sheep didn’t move. It kept chewing and the leaf disappeared, then it dropped its head to nibble some more.
‘Stay there,’ Saul said to her. ‘This calls for drastic measures. I’ll be back in a mo.’
Kazz couldn’t believe she was being left alone with a sheep, even though there was a fence between her and it. It was bigger than she’d expected and it had horns.
Do sheep bite? she wondered.
She didn’t think they did, but she wasn’t taking any chances, and when it shuffled a few paces nearer, Kazz moved a few steps back. She didn’t think the fence would be any protection – after all, the sheep had got in there, so it could get back out again just as easily.
When Saul reappeared a minute or so later, he was carrying a packet of Jaffa Cakes, and Kazz did a double take. ‘What the hell?’
Saul grinned. ‘Watch,’ he said, opening the packet with a great deal of rustling. ‘Donald, look what I’ve got – your favourite.’
Donald’s head shot up, he stopped chewing and his tail waggled. He looked rather comical, especially when he trotted over to Saul, bleating happily.
Saul fed him a Jaffa Cake, then offered him another, and while the creature was nibbling it out of his hand, he slipped a halter over the sheep’s head.
‘Got you!’ he announced, and proceeded to lead the animal out of the vegetable garden.
Kazz was thoroughly bemused. ‘Are sheep supposed to eat Jaffa Cakes?’
‘Definitely not. But if he’s in a mood, it’s the only way to grab his attention. Come on, let’s put him in the field, then go have some lunch. I’m starving.’
She was too, and she was delighted to discover that Geoff hadn’t been exaggerating: Iris did indeed cook a fine roast dinner.
Kazz was stuffed by the time she and Saul needed to leave for their tour of the distillery, and she hoped she’d be able to find room for the whisky she would soon be sampling.
With promises of returning the favour and cooking a meal for Iris and Geoff, Kazz had a warm, fuzzy feeling when she left the farm.
She had been made to feel so very welcome, and she had thoroughly enjoyed herself. Iris and Geoff were lovely, and she envied them for their obvious devotion to each other. Maybe, one day, she would have a relationship like theirs. But when her treacherous mind suggested Saul could be part of that relationship, she gave herself a stern telling-off.
Saul Green wasn’t relationship material.