Chapter 9
LIAM
Three weeks until Christmas
Liam stood outside the windows of Sugarplum Cakes his whole focus was his son.
But there had been something about her pain-filled green eyes and tear-streaked face that had got to him.
It had stirred up so many feelings, releasing a cork from the emotions he’d bottled up – and now he wasn’t sure how to return them to their rightful home, or how to tie down the gaggle of thoughts he didn’t want to have.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He’d received more odd messages over the last few days, each equally cryptic. He’d texted back, called and had eventually blocked the number, but another text had arrived from a new number within a few hours. So his plan was to simply ignore them now.
‘Are you going to stand there all day?’ Ezra asked as he stopped to join him on the cobbled pavement outside the café.
At Liam’s feet, Figgy let out a muffled bark.
The dog had barely unclamped his jaws from the plush Christmas pudding toy Eleanor had given him and had little interest in anyone’s clothes now.
Which was good because the bookshop owner was wearing a very smart woollen coat.
‘Nope, I was just thinking,’ Liam told him, taking in the camera Ezra had slung around his neck.
‘Looks like it’s going to be busy today.
’ He nodded towards the café window. Inside, people had already begun collecting around the multiple chrome tables and more were queuing along the long glass counter, waiting for drinks and food.
He could see Hazel Cake, Eleanor’s older sister who owned the café, making coffee on a large shiny machine while her twin boys, Danny and Sam, worked beside her.
The boys were both fifteen and handsome with long, rangy limbs they’d grow into eventually.
Even from here Liam could see they were arguing about something.
He had a sudden flashback to the regular fights he’d had with Graham and quickly pushed the memory away.
‘I heard the event is sold out.’ Ezra nodded at the pictures advertising their appearance.
‘I’m not surprised, you make quite the couple.
Your Mrs Christmas is really stunning. And I say that in a behind-the-camera, not interested at all perspective,’ he added, his voice suddenly tight with embarrassment.
‘I’m not looking for a relationship, so she’s all yours.
And even if I was looking –’ He frowned.
‘– she’s too young for me. I’m done with age gaps. ’
‘I’m not on the market either,’ Liam said, marvelling at how much the older man had just given away.
Ezra had been living in the Cotswolds for seven months.
He’d moved down from Scotland and had quietly taken over the bookshop, spreading his passion for reading throughout the village – quickly becoming a favourite with the locals.
But he didn’t talk about his past or his personal life, ever.
Liam had often wondered if he’d come to Hollythorpe to escape from something.
Seemed like they were all trying to escape from something here.
Ezra clearly wasn’t interested in Liam’s story – or perhaps he already knew it, as tongues wagged at double speed in small villages – because he simply nodded. ‘Do you want to go in?’ He tugged his coat tighter and nodded up at the sky. ‘I think it’s going to snow again soon.’
It was certainly cold enough. The temperature had been dropping over the last week, and the bookmakers were starting to take serious bets on a white Christmas. If they had one, it would be the first in years.
‘Sure,’ Liam said, glancing over his shoulder. ‘I thought Eleanor would be here by now with the sound system.’ He didn’t mention Clara in case it gave Ezra the wrong idea – but he still found himself gazing down the meandering high street, hoping to catch a glimpse.
‘Eleanor’s probably too busy planting elves in my shop,’ Ezra said dryly. ‘I found two this morning covered in tinsel, and she’d somehow sneaked another beside the till with a mini bottle of booze.’ He looked baffled. ‘I’m not sure what the lass is trying to achieve.’
She wants to make you laugh because you always seem so sad, Liam thought, but he didn’t say anything.
‘Let’s go in,’ he muttered, pulling his own coat tighter so he didn’t show any of the suit.
He wasn’t wearing his hat yet and the trousers were mostly hidden.
There was no point in breaking the festive spell before they’d even begun.
‘What about the dog?’ Ezra asked as they reached the entrance. ‘Aren’t there health and safety rules?’
‘Hazel said he can stay upstairs in her flat,’ Liam told him.
Jenny would have had him, but Liam hadn’t wanted to give his neighbour anything else to look after.
Charlie had been fractious when he’d picked him up from preschool this afternoon.
He was tired and had wanted to watch something on the TV with his dad – so he was going to be enough of a handful as it was.
The woman was an absolute saint. He had no idea what he’d do if he didn’t have her.
He also couldn’t keep relying on her good nature, but he didn’t have anyone else to ask.
No family. He thought about Graham and balked.
‘Let’s go then.’ Ezra opened the door and a surge of chocolate-scented heat gushed out, making Liam’s stomach grumble. ‘Break a leg,’ Ezra added as he waved Liam inside.
Liam wasn’t usually nervous. He’d been playing Mr Christmas for the last two years.
At first, it had been a distraction, a way to forget what had happened with Graham and Mia.
Then he’d realised he’d enjoyed it and had decided to continue when he was asked.
There was something about the sea of faces that lit up when he walked into the room with Mrs Christmas.
The kids usually let out a low gasp, and even the parents looked a little stunned.
He’d surprised himself by enjoying the singing too.
He’d never considered that he had a good voice, but he’d practised hard after Charlie was in bed every night until he’d mastered the words and learned the tune.
Each time the audience started singing along, a bubble of warmth would rise from the pit of his gut and seem to fizz as it filled him up. It was the only time he didn’t feel empty these days – aside from when he was taking care of Charlie.
He looked around the room. The café was large, but it was packed. The customers had turned all the available chairs to face where they stood at the far end, away from the counter.
Hazel and her boys had decorated two huge Christmas trees which flanked the ‘grotto’ area.
Liam knew that Eleanor had donated a ton of baubles and tinsel, along with lights to ensure maximum festive effect.
He couldn’t help getting a kick out of the way the children’s faces lit as they took in Clara’s dress and his natty suit when they’d both taken their positions.
He’d never understood how none of the kids recognised him, especially since he didn’t have a beard. But there was something about the magic of Christmas that seemed to make him unidentifiable — much like Batman when he was wearing a mask over his eyes.
‘There are so many people,’ Clara whispered. She was standing beside him, staring at the crowd, and Liam could almost feel her body trembling. But she was still smiling which proved she had a backbone to rival his own.
She’d arrived late with Eleanor, so they hadn’t had time to talk.
But his head was buzzing with questions: Did you hear from your fiancé?
Did you message him back? Did you think about me at all?
He swallowed, angry with himself. Annoyed that this woman had somehow got under his skin because he didn’t want her there.
‘It is busy and I think more people will come,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Just smile and don’t stress about the singing. You’ve got a good voice.’
He’d been surprised by how good. Clara had been a little rusty, but it hadn’t taken her long to pick up the tune and she’d hit every note with gusto. Although she’d spent a disproportionate amount of time apologising for what she considered her failure as a singer.
Someone had definitely dented her confidence, which was crazy considering how lovely she was. He wondered if the fiancé was responsible. Wondered why he cared. He barely knew the woman.
‘When do we start?’ Clara asked as four small children took their places at the front of the crowd, sitting on the ground beside the ones already there.
Liam recognised a couple of the cute, round faces from the preschool and wondered if he should have got Jenny to bring Charlie.
Then again, his son would have wanted to be at the front – probably clinging around his neck.
Plus, then he’d have to explain to Clara that he had a child, and he didn’t want to share any more confidences – he had to keep his distance.
‘Welcome ladies and gentlemen, children too,’ Eleanor suddenly boomed, taking her place in front of them, using a microphone the committee had bought for her last year.
‘I’m so happy to see you all today. Mr and Mrs Christmas have travelled all the way from the North Pole for their visit to Hollythorpe, so make sure you welcome them properly. ’