Chapter Twenty-Two
The shortest day had come and gone, but it was far too early in the cyclical wheel of the seasons to see any change in the length of the days, even on a day like today when the weak midwinter sun shone out of a cloudless sky.
With a mere eight hours of daylight to look forward to, Eloise intended to make the most of it.
After a somewhat restless night, she’d risen early (not as early as Sarah, since Toby had insisted on getting up at a quarter past six), had breakfasted on porridge and wholemeal toast, and was now marching down the hill.
Keen to blow away the cobwebs, she’d decided to take herself off for a walk and try to clear her head. This wasn’t the get-away-from-Christmas break she’d expected, and she needed to take a step back and assess how she felt about it. Or to be more precise, how she felt about Bart.
She hoped she hadn’t upset him with her abrupt departure last night and that he didn’t think too badly of her, but she’d had to get away.
He hadn’t acted any differently with her at breakfast, so hopefully he’d thought she was just tired.
Or maybe he thought he’d upset her? After all, she had been rather sharp when she’d said that Sarah could be perfectly happy without a man in her life, and it was reasonable for him to assume she was referring to herself and her situation.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to ignore her whirling thoughts for a while and enjoy the walk.
The promenade was lively, as was the beach.
People were taking advantage of the freshly exposed sand to walk their dogs and their children.
She noticed quite a few of the adults were around her age and guessed they were on child-minding duties while the parents were at work, and it made her think of the elf yesterday and her assumption that she and Bart were Toby’s grandparents.
Her heart constricted with a blend of regret and longing.
This was the closest she was going to get to being anyone’s grandma, and she made a resolution to enjoy this brief and special time with the little boy that she was growing to care deeply about, because it would never be repeated.
She’d pretend to be his grandma for the rest of the time she was here.
Obviously, she wouldn’t admit it to anyone; it would be her little secret, her indulgence.
The weather wasn’t as blustery as the last time she’d climbed the steep path to the top of the headland, and without the wind pummelling her, she had no need to hide on the leeward side of the lighthouse.
Instead, she parked her bottom on one of the thoughtfully provided benches facing the sea and enjoyed the view.
It was breathtaking, especially since no one was around and she had the headland all to herself. Indulging in a brief fantasy, she imagined this being her daily walk. If it were, she’d soon be fit enough to hike to the top without having to stop every fourth step to catch her breath.
As she sat there, the sound of the waves booming on the rocks below, gazing at the island in the centre of the bay and then on to the opposite side with its harbour, Eloise was glad she’d made the snap decision to come to Honeycombe Bay—even if she’d failed miserably in her attempt to escape Christmas.
She huffed as she thought how ironic it was that her desire to avoid anything and everything Christmas-related had led to her embracing this festive season with both arms. It’s funny how things work out, she mused.
It wasn’t quite as funny when she thought of Bart though. Falling in love with him wasn’t funny at all.
It was downright heartbreaking.
Feeling somewhat refreshed by her walk, but none the wiser as to how she should cope with her growing feelings for Bart, Eloise resolved to put the conundrum to one side and focus on how she was going to persuade Sarah to allow her to take Toby to the pantomime this afternoon.
When she got back, she found the young mum in the guest lounge, sitting at one of the tables with Toby. A sprawl of paper and crayons littered its surface, and as she watched, the little boy dashed a scribble across a fresh sheet, pushed it aside, and reached for another.
“What are you drawing?” Eloise asked him, straining to make out what the picture could be.
“Mama.”
“Ah, so it is,” she agreed, meeting Sarah’s eye and winking. “And what’s that?” A more solid, boxy shape was next to the longer scribble which was meant to be his mother.
“Mama’s working. That’s her computer.”
It hadn’t occurred to her that Sarah had a job. Who looked after Toby while she was at work, Eloise wondered. Did she put him in a nursery?
Eloise’s surprise, although swiftly covered, must have been apparent, because Sarah said, “I usually work when he’s in bed, but he’s forever finding one excuse or another to come downstairs. Either he needs a wee, or a drink, or he can’t sleep…” She smiled at her son indulgently.
“What do you do?”
“Before I had Toby, I was a teaching assistant in a primary school. I used to love making resources for the teaching staff, so after he was born, I carried on making them, and I sell them online.”
“There’s a market for that?”
“Oh yes. Teachers have so many things to do that they often don’t have time to make their own.
I create lesson plans, interactive activities, resource packs, teaching ideas…
” She lifted her chin, her pride apparent as she added, “I’m good at it, and I make a living from it.
So, you see, I will pay you back for all those Christmas presents and for everything else. ”
“I don’t want paying back,” Eloise replied, realising this was the perfect opportunity. “Remember me telling you I don’t have any family?”
The girl nodded, her expression curious. She must have been wondering where Eloise was going with this.
Eloise took a deep breath. “I never had children, and it’s my one big regret. Not only have I missed out on that, but I’m now missing out on the joys of grandchildren.”
Sarah didn’t say anything, so Eloise soldiered on. “I’m enjoying spending time with Toby. You, too. In some ways, you remind me of myself when I was your age. Anyway, as I was saying, he’s such a little sweetie that I wondered—hoped—you’d allow me to take him to the pantomime.”
The girl scrutinised her, and Eloise shifted, uncomfortable under the assessing gaze. Eventually Sarah spoke. “I know what you and Bart are doing. I don’t want charity.”
“But will you give it?” Eloise’s smile was wistful. “I’ll never be a grandma, so please indulge me this once.”
Sarah swallowed, her eyes suspiciously bright as they searched Eloise’s face. “That’s so sad.”
“It is what it is.” Eloise disliked the phrase, but the sentiment fitted the bill.
“Will Bart go with you?”
“I was hoping he would.”
“Because you like him?”
“What? No!” Eloise spluttered. “You’ve got the wrong end of the stick.” She drew herself up indignantly, and prayed Sarah believed her.
She also hoped Bart didn’t have any inkling how she felt because that would be too awful to contemplate!
“He’s behind you!” Bart shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth.
“Where?” The chap on the stage turned around just as the villain, King Rat, crept out of his line of sight.
“Behind you!” the audience thundered.
Toby, with his hands clamped over his ears, yelled as loudly as the rest of the children in the theatre.
Dick Whittington was a favourite of Bart’s—he had taken Ross to see a version of this very pantomime when he hadn’t been much older than Toby. The special effects were better now, he acknowledged, but the atmosphere was the same and so was the audience’s reaction.
Bart was thoroughly enjoying himself, and he thought Eloise was also having fun. She had the biggest grin on her face, and she hadn’t taken her eyes off the stage except to check on Toby.
Toby was being utterly spoilt and loving it. Eloise had bought him a plush Dick Whittington Cat dressed in a hat and boots, plus a small tub of gummy bear sweets, which probably contained enough sugar and additives to make the child hyperactive for a week.
That, along with all the thrill of the theatre and Toby’s escalating excitement for Santa’s arrival, meant Bart didn’t envy Sarah trying to put him to bed this evening.
Bart wasn’t entirely sure how Eloise had managed to persuade Sarah to allow them to take her son to the pantomime, but he was pleased, nevertheless. It was a shame Sarah hadn’t felt up to coming with them though, because he was sure she’d have enjoyed it too.
She’d pleaded a headache after the drama of the past few days, and Bart had to admit she looked rather wan. A quiet afternoon would do her good.
It wasn’t a quiet afternoon for him though, as the audience chorused, “Oh no, he isn’t!” at the top of its collective voice, and Toby bounced up and down in his seat, squealing with excitement.
Despite all the fun he was having, Bart was glad when the performance drew to a close.
“My ears are ringing!” he complained happily as Eloise stuffed Toby’s arms into the sleeves of his padded coat, and Bart plonked a hat on the child’s head.
Eloise said, “I really enjoyed that.”
“Me, too. How about you, Toby? Did you enjoy it?”
“Behind you!” the little boy cried, making Eloise laugh.
Bart couldn’t help thinking she’d come a long way since that first afternoon when she’d arrived with a distinct lack of Christmas cheer. A lack which he’d more than matched.
When they arrived at the guest house, it was to find Sarah and Mitch preparing the evening meal.
“What are you doing?” Bart asked, seeing the pair of them bustling around in the kitchen. “Cooking is my job.”
“You’ve done enough for today,” Sarah said, removing Toby’s coat. “Did you have a good time?” She addressed the question to all of them.
“It was dark, Mama, and there was a cat, and a baddie, and a man with a sword, and the cat could speak! Look what Weez gave me.” He held out the cuddly toy cat.
“That’s lovely.” Sarah’s attention turned to Eloise, and she started to say, “You shouldn’t—” Then she stopped. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” Eloise said, and Bart looked first at one woman, then the other, wondering what was going on.
Sarah’s attention was on her son once more. “What are you going to call him?”
“Cat.”
She laughed. “Of course you are!”
“I love him.” Toby clutched the toy to his chest. “What’s for tea?”
As Bart was swept up into the domesticity of helping Toby wash his hands, laying the table, and eating the lovely meal Sarah and Toby had prepared, he listened to the little boy’s happy chatter. It warmed his soul to think that he and Eloise were spreading some Christmas cheer.
But it broke his heart to think that Eloise would soon be gone.