Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
I woke earlier than I would have liked the next day, but despite feeling groggy and weary I couldn’t get back to sleep. I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled to the kitchenette to make a cup of coffee – black, of course, as I had nothing fresh in the house. I peered into the package of goodies that Coco had made for me the previous day and decided that, although squashed, the single Fat Rascal that was left would make a perfect breakfast. Missing Runcible, missing Alexander, missing Theo – in fact, missing everything about Yorkshire and feeling sorry for myself – I sat on the sofa and put on the TV for some company. A morning magazine show wittered on about how to wrap awkwardly shaped presents while I picked up my phone and returned to last night’s messages. Lindy was easy to deal with. I replied saying how delighted I was that she had enjoyed the party, that I hoped to work with her again soon and wishing her a merry Christmas. Then Alexander’s. I decided to keep my tone friendly but cool, as he had, and said:
I miss you all too. I hope Runcible is okay. The party all went well in the end, thank goodness. Looking forward to the Nativity this evening.
It wouldn’t win any literary prizes, but it did the job. Feeling revived by breakfast, I turned the TV off and went around my small flat, opening the curtains. Letting in some light gave me a small lift, but looking out at the view just brought more confusion. It was one of the reasons I had rented the flat, and I had always loved seeing the elegant architecture of the buildings opposite and, if I peered down the road, being able to see the tops of the trees in the nearby park. Now the view seemed small as I remembered looking out from my room at Blakeney Hall and letting my gaze wander for miles over the empty, wild moors. I sighed and turned my attention indoors again. The flat was in a sorry state. So had I been, when I left it, having no energy or inclination for cleaning and tidying. If Alexander could see this , I thought , he’d know the truth about what I’m like: a complete mess who can’t keep up with her own life even when it’s just one person she has to think about . Maybe, I thought, with a wry smile, I should send him a photo of it to put him off? Not that he needed much putting off, I thought, casting my mind back to that stilted goodbye. But I rallied. I forced a smile to my face, which became a genuine grin as I realised a large benefit to my current situation: the entire flat was the size of one room in Blakeney Hall, and even I could manage to get it straight in an hour or so. I rolled up my sleeves.
A clean and tidy flat was a tonic, and even more so once I had had a shower, washed my hair and dressed. My phone rang as I was stuffing my things back into my bag and I grabbed it.
‘Hi, Sam! How are you doing this morning?’
‘I was going to ask you the same thing. Are you exhausted?’
‘I am, but I’m all right. I enjoyed it and it went well. Thank you so much for all your work on it.’
‘Well, thank you for saving the day. I was ringing to ask if you fancied lunch – my treat. We can debrief on last night and work out what you need for Jacqueline’s party.’
I looked at the time.
‘I’d love to meet you for lunch, but I must be away by two. I promised I’d get back to Yorkshire for a thing this evening.’
‘We can manage that. See you at the Kingfisher in ten?’
‘See you then.’
I gathered my last few bits together, locked up and set off on the short walk to mine and Sam’s favourite café. As I walked into the familiar smell of coffee and cooking, was greeted by name and led to my preferred table, my worries about Yorkshire slipped away. Sam arrived shortly after, and we ordered a large brunch and bottomless coffee before getting down to business. I filled him on everything I had done for the Christmas Fayre and then we moved on to Mum and Douglas’s engagement party.
‘She claims it will just be small and she’s not fussy, blah blah, but we all know the truth.’
Sam laughed.
‘Yeah, I’ve never known Jacqueline to go low-key in her life. We can’t believe that for a second. Did you say you had someone to do the catering?’
I nodded.
‘Yes. Douglas’s daughter from his second marriage. She’s an amazing cook. And, in fact, I can’t believe I didn’t tell you this yesterday – we were so busy! Her mother is Estelle Knight and she’s staying too!’
‘ The Estelle Knight?’
‘The very same. I bet she’d help with the food, but we’d better keep it on the downlow from Mum.’
‘Jacqueline had her nose put out of joint by her arrival?’
‘A bit. Poor Mum, I don’t think she was expecting the homebody of a second wife she’d heard about to, in fact, be rivalling her for stardom.’
‘Did Douglas never tell her?’
‘Maybe he did, and she wasn’t paying attention, or maybe he just didn’t dare. Or maybe he thought Mum already knew. I don’t know him well, but it’s possible it just didn’t occur to him. She wasn’t the Estelle Knight when they were together and he’s not at all interested in celebrity. Other than James Bond, of course.’
‘Well, we can see if she’d help. Maybe a fun theme for the food might be some sort of chic Yorkshire thing, referencing local food but making it all look super sophisticated.’
‘What, you mean like tiny little bite-size Yorkshire puddings? I love it!’
We talked for a while longer about possible party ideas, then I glanced at my watch.
‘Oh no, it’s much later than I realised. I said I’d be back for the Nativity, and I was cutting it fine already.’
‘Don’t worry – go, go! I’ll be in touch and see you soon.’
I dashed out of the café and, to my relief, stepped onto a bus almost immediately. This was only the first step of my journey to King’s Cross, but at the underground station I was also lucky and soon speeding along the Piccadilly line. I checked the time again : I should, all being well, make the last train I can catch to get back in time for the Nativity . At my stop I was ready by the doors and leaped out, running all the way to the main part of the station where, thanking the gods of technology, I scanned my e-ticket and jumped onto the train with a couple of minutes to spare. I sank into a seat, exhilarated by the success of my journey, and took out my book to enjoy a couple of hours’ peace.
Everything went smoothly until we were nearly at Peterborough, when the train juddered to one of those heart-dropping stops when you know all your plans have been laughed at. Indeed, a minute or so later a voice came booming over the tannoy:
‘Ladies and gentlemen, sorry about this, just a small issue with the signals. Shouldn’t be long until we’re off again. In the meantime, do make yourselves comfortable and ask our staff if there’s anything you need help with.’
A grumble made its way around the carriage as everyone shifted in their seats and prepared themselves for a long wait. They, like me, didn’t believe a word of the jaunty announcement; we all knew that we’d be sitting there for hours and that there wouldn’t be a member of staff in sight. But what could you do? I looked at the time again. It was almost inevitable now that I would miss some, if not all, of the Nativity. I tapped out a quick message to Alexander to let him know my predicament, pushed my phone back into my bag and stared gloomily out of the window into the rapidly darkening afternoon. I thought about Theo, getting ready for his performance and being told by his dad that I wasn’t going to make it. I hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed. I thought of the night before, the glamorous party and all the energy it had taken to get there. I thought of the pleasurable debrief I had had with Sam over lunch, always one of our favourite parts of a big job. I shouldn’t have gone for that lunch , I told myself. But I had wanted to, and I had gone, despite knowing that it would jeopardise my chances of getting back to Yorkshire in time. So, for all my thoughts about Alexander and Theo, despite my growing feelings for both of them, I had put myself and my work first. Now who does that remind you of? I asked myself viciously. The tannoy crackled back into life, and I steeled myself for another cheery broadcast that we would be sitting there for at least half an hour more. But even as he started speaking, the train jerked into motion again, and to everyone’s surprise we heard:
‘Hello again, ladies and gentlemen. Many apologies for that short delay, but we’re on our way again.’
Hardly able to believe my luck, I looked again at my watch. If there were no more problems, I should make it just in time. I considered firing off another text to Alexander, but didn’t want to risk further delay and then having to send another text, which might start to look a bit crazy. And besides, he hadn’t replied to the first one yet. Instead, I found the number of the local taxi firm and rang them, arranging a car for what I desperately hoped would be my accurate ETA.
There were no more holdups, and when I stepped out of the overly warm train into the bitingly cold late afternoon air, I immediately saw my car and scuttled over to it.
‘Lingfoss, is it?’ asked the driver, and I agreed, almost throwing myself and my bag into the back seat. ‘I’m afraid I won’t be able to get you all the way in,’ he added, pulling slowly away. ‘The Nativity’s on there today, you know?’
‘Yes, I know, that’s what I’m going for.’
‘Cutting it a bit fine, aren’t you?’
I took a breath.
‘Yes, unfortunately. How close can you get me?’
‘Well, the main street’s all shut off to traffic, all the way to the church, but I can drop you by the bus stop. Can’t get much closer than that.’
I agreed with some relief, remembering the bus stop where I had first seen Coco, right by Meg’s café, but still spent the journey leaning forward in my seat, urging him on silently to a speed he was never going to achieve.
After an infuriatingly leisurely ten minutes, the driver pulled his car over to the side of the road and came to a stop. My eyes darted from side to side, seeing only dark, cold fields on either side, rather than the welcoming lights of Meg’s café or, indeed, any sign at all of the village. A cold chill suddenly ran through me as I wondered if the deceptively cheery driver had, in fact, brought me into the middle of nowhere for his own nefarious reasons. I sneaked a surreptitious glance at the lock on the inside of the door and saw that, mercifully, it was open. A silence stretched out as I started planning my escape, only to be broken by a polite cough which, quiet though it was, made me jump out of my skin, so wound up was I by my lateness, tiredness and creeping anxiety.
‘We’re here, love,’ said the driver, eyeing me uncertainly in the rearview mirror.
‘ Here !?’ I said, my brain struggling to catch up with reality from its adrenaline-fuelled visualisation of me dashing across the moors with the elderly driver in hot pursuit.
‘At the bus stop?’ he said, the eyes in the mirror now looking rather worried.
‘Bus stop?’ I repeated, starting to panic now that he was the one irrationally scared of me.
‘Yes, love, the bus stop where we agreed I’d drop you. I can’t get you in a lot further, it’s impossible to turn and the road will be shut off soon. It’ll only take you a few minutes to walk it, though.’
I looked out of the window again and now saw a scruffy wooden pole by the side of the road, a battered sign on the top announcing that this was the stop for the H62. Just not the stop I had been expecting. I pulled myself together.
‘Right, sorry, thank you very much.’
I grabbed my bag and got out into the freezing air. I was spotlit, briefly, as he backed his taxi away, then he turned the car and was gone, leaving me in the lowering darkness, the lights of Lingfoss glowing in the distance.
‘Okay…’ I said out loud, to rally myself. ‘It can’t be further than half a mile and you still have’ – I pulled out my phone and lit up the screen – ‘ten minutes before it starts. You can do this.’
I hefted my bag over my shoulder and started walking briskly down the road. He hadn’t been wrong when he said there was nowhere to turn – it was very narrow and I was thankful that there wouldn’t be cars coming in the opposite direction, as the road had been closed off. My confidence was short-lived, however, when I saw the unmistakeable glow of headlights coming my way, and at some speed. Whoever it was must have pulled out of a house or road before the block. This time the adrenaline really meant business: if I didn’t get out of the way, and quickly, I’d be hit. There was no way the driver would see me in my dark clothing until he was right on top of me. To my left was a steep bank, topped with trees and dense bushes, but to my right I saw a space with a wooden fence. I darted to it, threw my bag over, and clambered over myself, falling hard on my hip but just in time, as a large car shot past. With no time to waste, I leaped up, then sat down again abruptly on the hard ground, overwhelmed by a rush of blood to the head.
Breathe , I reminded myself, and spent a moment or two steadying myself, trying to take in smooth breaths rather than gulping down the freezing air, until my heart had steadied and my legs felt less wobbly. I stood up slowly and looked around. A field, and one which I hoped wasn’t inhabited by anything fierce. I decided to take my chances and continue walking through it, with the road safely on the other side of the fence. I broke into the nearest thing approximating a jog that I could manage and glanced at my phone again. Although it felt as if hours had passed, I still had time to make it. My steady pace was soon broken by another fence but, now a veteran of such things, I scaled it efficiently, feeling pleased with myself. Until my landing, that is. Or to be more accurate, the landing of my right foot in something soft, squishy and not particularly fragrant. Lifting up my foot, I shook it free of much of the debris and tried to wipe the rest off on the grass, although I couldn’t see what I was doing.
You’d think it would have the decency to freeze solid, I thought, then was clutched by the idea that, as it most definitely was not frozen, it must be fresh, which would mean that there was some sort of livestock nearby, possibly something that wouldn’t take kindly to me stumbling around in its field in the darkness. Invigorated by this fresh terror, I set off again, improving on my previous pace and trying not to think about my soiled shoe. It was with relief that I saw ahead of me the lights of Lingfoss, and knew I was only moments from my destination. Ahead of me stood one more fence, which I hauled myself over, trying to see what lay in wait on the ground for me to land in. I checked my phone clock one more time: three minutes. I was going to make it.
My chest was sore now from heaving in the chilly air, and I decided to exchange my jogging for a brisk walking pace in the hope that I might look rather less flustered and sweaty when I arrived. I was on the high street, now, and could see a big crowd of people waiting. As I approached the back, I could hear music starting up. At least I had made it in time. Just. I edged my way through to the side of the crowd where I could now see Mary pottering about, doubtless about to be interrupted by an angel with some seriously life-changing news. I cast my eyes around the crowd, spotting Mum immediately, who had clearly decided to go incognito in a flamingo-pink trench coat. Her eyes met mine, then instantly rolled heavenwards as she tapped her watch. I pushed down my feelings of injustice and impatience and continued looking, hoping to spot Alexander. And suddenly, with a lurch in my stomach, I did. He had found a spot near the front and was looking nervous. I was about to try to catch his attention, when I saw Annabel standing next to him. I hadn’t clocked her until this point, and now she rested a leather-gloved hand on his arm, gave it a little squeeze and muttered a few words. He smiled at her and looked a little more relaxed. Annabel, of course, was looking immaculate in her country chic outfit of a fitted, quilted jacket, tight jeans and conker-shiny knee-length boots. I glanced down dismally at my down jacket, scuffed from the journeys I had made, leggings and trainers. The outfit that had been perfect for train travel and dashing around London and, as it turned out, clambering over fences, but that I had hoped to change out of before seeing everyone again. I sighed and returned my attention to the action on ‘stage’, which was, in fact, the middle of the road. Gabriel had delivered his news and Mary was now persuading a bemused Joseph that her pregnancy was the result of divine intervention. Luckily for her, after a quick nap and another angel visitation, this time in a dream and played with great verve by the butcher, Ted, Joseph was convinced, and they started making plans to head to Nazareth. It was at this point that Theo and Douglas made their grand entrance, leading Heathcliff around the corner and offering him up as transport. They hefted Mary on board and started walking down the high street, with the crowd shuffling after them. I was behind Theo so had no chance of letting him know I was there, but I saw Annabel give him a little wave and the sweetest of smiles. She was a better bet than me, I mused, as we stopped outside the pub, The Keeper’s Arms, which had its own starring role as an inn with no room. I couldn’t even arrive on time, let alone looking the part, whereas she had probably had the date circled in red on her calendar for months, and doubtless made mince pies from scratch for after. The play continued, with the audience moving to see the stable scene and then a little further, where subtle lighting had been rigged up on the edge of the moor to show the shepherds – complete with real sheep – watching their flocks by night. The final tableau, back at the stable, was beautifully staged: someone had even come up with a real tiny baby for Mary to hold. Life-hardened old cynic I may be, but even I found myself surreptitiously wiping my eye as the strains of ‘Away in a Manger’ started up, and we were all encouraged to join in.
When the performers had taken their bows, the vicar popped up to thank everyone and invite us to go for refreshments – Annabel’s mince pies, I thought, meanly – and mulled wine in the warm pub. It looked as if it would take a while for the crowd to move back there, not to mention the returning of babies, sheep and donkeys that needed to happen; maybe I had time to nip up to the house, leave my things and freshen up? I was just going to start wriggling through the crowd again, when a hand caught my elbow.
‘Where are you going, darling?’
‘Oh, hi, Mum. I was just going to run back to Blakeney Hall to sort myself out; I’m a mess after all that travelling.’
She looked me up and down with the slight crease to her forehead that is the closest she can get to frowning, thanks to the Botox.
‘I shouldn’t worry, Fallon, no one will notice any difference. Come along. Everyone was terribly upset when they didn’t think you were going to make it.’
It was too much to hope that she might be pleased to hear how I had beaten the odds to be there at all, so I refrained from comment and followed her into the pub, combing my fingers through my hair as I went in a feeble attempt to look more put together. Mum was immediately swallowed into the throng, while I stood there a little hesitantly, hoping to see a familiar face. Thankfully, I spotted Alexander, minus Annabel, and made my way over.
‘Hello! Hi, Theo.’
I gave them a little wave and received very tight smiles in return.
‘Hello, all right?’ said Alexander, his voice tight and his hand moving to Theo’s shoulder.
I thought I might cry. All that panic, all that worry, all that scrambling across fields to get there on time and then be met with a face that was colder than the weather outside. My hip complained where I had landed on it, and I gave it a rub.
‘Yes, although I had an awful journey. I was on time and then there was a delay when we just sat there. Then the taxi dropped me miles away, so I had to come cross country.’ I saw his face relax a tiny bit and pushed on, trying not to sound defensive. ‘But I was just in time and saw the entire Nativity.’
‘Did you?’ asked Theo. ‘Did you see Heathcliff?’
‘I did indeed, he was brilliant, but not as brilliant as you. I didn’t realise that you were on stage, as it were, for so long.’
Theo’s smile became a beam now.
‘I’m glad you made it,’ Alexander said seriously, his eyes on my face. ‘How were things in London?’
‘Oh, it went very well. It was all pretty full on, but the client was happy, and I think we’ll get more business from her and maybe from some of her friends. It was a late night, though, I’m tired.’
‘Will you be all right with the Christmas Fayre stuff?’
‘I’ll be fine. Are you all right?’
Theo had drifted over to Coco, who had looked after Runcible during the performance, and Alexander glanced over at him before replying.
‘I’m fine, yes, but Theo was very upset when he thought you wouldn’t make it. I know it wasn’t your fault, but he does take promises incredibly seriously, you know.’
I cringed with guilt, but also felt slightly put out.
‘I know , I do understand that, and it was silly of me to tell him I’d definitely be here, but I could hardly help my train being delayed.’
He shrugged.
‘I know. Would you like a drink?’
Grateful that the subject seemed to be closed, I asked for a white wine spritzer, which wasn’t very seasonal but was just what I needed after the events of the past few hours. While I waited for him, I watched Theo as he knelt by the fireplace, Runcible on his lap, both looking blissfully content. I sensed someone approach and turned, ready to take my drink from Alexander, but it wasn’t him.
‘Hello,’ said a cool voice. ‘We haven’t met properly. I’m Annabel.’
She held out a slim hand, which I shook with my sweaty, grimy one. I was amazed she didn’t wipe her hand afterwards, but she was far too well-bred to do something like that. But even she couldn’t stop her perfect nose wrinkling at the odour that was wafting up from my shoe now that it was warming up. She glanced down, but I kept staring resolutely ahead, hoping to brazen that one out.
‘Hello,’ I replied. ‘Yes, I remember you from the James Bond party. I’m Fallon. My mother is marrying Douglas.’
‘Yes, I know. Are you enjoying your stay at Blakeney Hall?’
‘Yes, everyone is so welcoming. I had to pop down to London yesterday and I did miss them.’
‘I’m sure. It seems they missed you too. Theo was most distressed when he thought you wouldn’t make it back for the Nativity.’
I nearly asked her what business it was of hers but bit it back. She was already looking down her elegant nose at me, and I didn’t want to give her any more ammunition.
‘Yes,’ I agreed instead. ‘He’s a sensitive boy and we get on well.’
‘Not too well, I hope. He is clearly looking for a mother figure and it wouldn’t do well for him to find one, only for her to disappear back off to the other end of the country once Christmas is over.’
I suppose someone who lives nearby – someone like you, perhaps? – would be a better idea?
Again, I took a breath.
‘I couldn’t comment on that. All I can say is that Alexander seems to be doing a wonderful job on his own, and there doesn’t seem to be a mother-shaped hole in their lives at all.’
Annabel laughed.
‘Oh, of course there is! What they need?—’
‘Actually, Fallon’s right. Theo and I are just fine as we are.’
Alexander had appeared behind us, without either of us noticing. He handed me my drink and I took a sip, looking at Annabel over the rim of the glass. Wriggle out of this one, Annabel , I thought.
She smiled beatifically.
‘But of course. You’re both marvellous. Do give some thought to that dinner I mentioned, won’t you, Alexander?’
He nodded curtly and she glided away.
‘I’d better go and find Dad,’ said Alexander. ‘See you later.’
And he was also gone, leaving me standing alone with a glass of wine I no longer wanted. I went over to the fireplace and put my glass on the mantelpiece, then crouched down.
‘Theo, I think I’d better take Runcible back now, she’s looking very tired. You do too. Do you want to come with us?’
He shook his head.
‘It’s okay, I’ll find Dad. Thanks for coming back in time for the play.’
I hugged him.
‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’
I kept an eye on him until I was sure that he had found Alexander, then pulled my coat around me and headed out into the night, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion and with the events of the past twenty-four hours pinging around my head. Despite my excuses, I knew that I could have been back safely in time. Instead, I had proven myself once more to be self-seeking, work-obsessed and narcissistic. Alexander and Theo clearly hadn’t been fooled. They were seeing the truth now: they were far better off without me.