Chapter Twenty-Two
Gage snatched the foaming pint from Nathan and took a large gulp. ‘Boy, you’ve no idea how I needed that.’
‘Your undue haste is something of a clue.’ Nathan dropped into his seat and grinned around the table at their friends. ‘That’s what Book Club Refugees night is for.’
Even before Gage had arrived in the village, it had become a habit for the abandoned spouses and partners to meet in the pub while their other halves attended the monthly meetings, and he’d become part of it now. The only one missing tonight was Tessa, who was stuck at home with a stinking cold.
Tamara had prickled like a threatened porcupine and snapped when he’d asked if she’d mind him coming for a quiet pint or two. Her tart response had been that he didn’t need her permission for anything.
It didn’t help that they were both on edge about Victoria, who still hadn’t responded to his calls or texts, despite being so insistent on hearing from him when she’d come to the shop on Saturday. It was still only Tuesday and she might be busy with work, so he was trying to cut her some slack.
‘Busy day?’ Quinten asked and went back to munching contentedly on his cheese-and-onion crisps. Evelyn had a violent dislike of them because they made his breath stink, so as a compromise he only indulged on rare occasions. He was on his second bag already.
‘Yeah, but that’s good. Four blokes drove all the way from Bristol to check out the military transport section. They left loaded with far more than they intended buying.’
‘So, has everyone done their Christmas shopping?’ Nathan chuckled. ‘No escaping it, you know. We’re into December.’
‘No escaping it anyways with this place decked out like Santa’s grotto.’ Harry gave a good-natured chuckle. Pixie didn’t do minimalist, so every inch of the pub sparkled with tinsel, lights and shiny glass balls. ‘Not that our Greek friend looks full of the festive spirit.’
Up at the bar, a grim-faced Christos was scurrying madly from one end to the other.
‘Having to work for a living doesn’t suit him,’ Harry continued. ‘I reckon he’s in the doghouse with Pixie for some reason and on a short leash.’
Gage kept his mouth shut.
‘Nathan will hate me for this.’ Quinten’s boast came with a cheeky smile. ‘I’ve bought a signed first edition of one of Daphne du Maurier’s lesser-known books — Mary Anne — for Evelyn. It’s one of the few she doesn’t have in her collection.’
‘That must’ve cost a pretty penny.’ Nathan sighed. ‘Ah, well, I might get invited to come and look at it if I’m lucky.’
Gage’s heart sank. Maybe it was just him?
He seemed to have landed in the middle of a bunch of men who actually bought gifts for their significant others before Christmas Eve.
During his brief marriage, Victoria would buy something she wanted, wrap it up and give him the bill.
His only job was to stick it under the tree and hand it over on Christmas Day so she could pretend to be surprised.
‘You aren’t saying much.’ Harry nudged him. ‘Tamara’s easy, surely. All you’ve got to do is buy another of those ugly pigs she’s crazy about.’
That’d be easy. But predictable. Did she expect a surprise?
‘I’d better be off.’ Barry lumbered to his feet. ‘Laura’s mum likes an early night.’
‘I’ll head out too.’ Quinten crammed the last handful of crisps into his mouth and screwed up the bag.
‘The girls will be home soon, so I need to brush my teeth a couple of times first.’ He shrugged on his long tweed coat, settled the familiar black fedora on his head and adjusted his dark-red silk scarf. ‘See you, gents.’
‘Ready for another?’ Gage gestured at Nathan’s empty glass. ‘My round.’
‘Cheers. I’m in no hurry.’
That struck him as odd. Nathan always made a point of being home when Melissa returned so they could dissect the book-club discussion together.
‘Have you eaten? I didn’t have time myself.’
‘Uh, no. I told Melissa I’d make myself something before I came here, but I never got around to it.’
‘Will a pasty suit you?’
‘That’s fine.’ Nathan sounded indifferent.
Gage could do with his friend’s opinion on a couple of things, but considered he might not be the only one who needed to talk.
* * *
The morning had been nerve-racking because Tamara had had an appointment at the bank to sign the loan documents, using her house as security.
On the way back, she’d stopped by Georgie Rowe’s to pass over a hefty deposit to secure his go-ahead with the kitchen refurbishment.
Then she’d started her preparations for tonight with a speedy clean of her neglected house, making her aware how little time she’d spent there recently.
It was a sort of unwritten rule that if you hosted the December meeting, your house should look suitably festive, so she’d spent another hour or so putting up her decorations.
The artificial tree she’d dragged out of the attic had lost a lot of its needles, but she’d still covered it in all of the ornaments she’d collected over the years, including several lumpy clay Christmas puddings made by Toby in school.
Festooned with the ornaments, draped in an excessive amount of tinsel and decked out in plain white lights, the tree cheered up the room.
Vernon had been pushing the bright-red poinsettias he’d had on sale this week at the shop, so she’d bought several yesterday and dotted those around too.
Now she was indulging in her favourite part of the whole day — the baking.
There were the traditional mince pies and sausage rolls everyone would expect, but the star of the show in her eyes was one of her own recipes — a festive take on Battenberg cake.
She sandwiched individual fingers of sponge cake together with a homemade cranberry jam and covered the whole thing with red and green striped marzipan.
It was the same recipe she had planned on using yesterday for the first day of the pub’s December Dessert specials.
Presumably that idea had gone by the wayside now.
As the last job before everyone arrived, she set a large pan of mulled wine on to warm through and fragrance the whole house.
It was something of a squash, but Tamara somehow squeezed all nine of them into her living room.
Their usual seven-strong group had expanded to include Ophelia, and tonight they had another visitor.
Evelyn had invited Monica Wyndham-Smythe, from the new Trelawney Court development, because she was interested in starting a similar club among her new neighbours and was keen to see how theirs worked.
‘Are we ready, girls?’ Evelyn clapped her hands and bestowed a wry smile on Monica. ‘You’ll find you have to take control, or it can disintegrate into nothing more than an excuse to drink and gossip.’
‘And wouldn’t that be terrible?’ Josie said with a grin. ‘Sorry, Evelyn. I’ll behave.’
‘That would be a first, Josephine. You never did at school, so why start now?’ The tart response set off a round of giggles.
‘Books out.’ She peered over her glasses.
‘A Christmas Carol. We’ll have opinions on the book first and as our resident nurse is in fine voice tonight, I suggest we start with her. ’
Tamara and Laura shared a smirk. They often placed imaginary bets on who would get picked first.
‘You all know I’m practical, a bit cynical at times and not one for sentiment.
’ Josie’s cheeks glowed. ‘But I don’t mind admitting I shed a tear reading the book.
The part with those pitiful children — Ignorance and Want — was heartbreaking and tore me up.
We’re reading it as historical fiction, but, when it was published, that was contemporary life to Dickens with all its warts and horrors. ’
‘Absolutely, and part of its brilliance is the way you could change the setting to modern times and it works equally well.’ Amy chimed in. ‘Scrooge would be a modern-day business tycoon, consumed by greed and riding roughshod over the so-called little people.’
‘I love the hopefulness of it the most,’ Becky said.
‘It’s about redemption, isn’t it? If someone as dreadful as Scrooge can change his ways, then there’s hope for everyone.
’ Her shoulders straightened. ‘If we all made the same promise as old Scrooge when he said he’d honour Christmas in his heart and try to keep it all the year, the world would be a kinder, gentler place. ’
‘I hadn’t read the book until yesterday.’ Tamara made the admission reluctantly. ‘Good thing it was short.’
Evelyn’s eyebrows shot up.
Gage had been so sweet and had suggested a speed-reading session to race through it over their lunch. He was determined to copy Nathan’s habit of reading along with every one of the book club’s selections next year.
‘I’ve never seen any of the films either, except for The Muppet Christmas Carol. It was Toby’s favourite and we still watch it every Christmas.’
‘Of course you do. Miss Piggy is probably your favourite actress.’ Laura’s good-natured teasing made everyone laugh.
She noticed Monica’s bewildered expression and hurried to explain about her pig obsession.
‘Ah, I see.’ The colour rose in the woman’s plump cheeks. ‘I’m diffident to voice an opinion—’
‘Don’t be, please,’ Melissa said encouragingly. ‘Everyone has one and they’re all different. That’s what makes the group so much fun.’
Tamara was relieved to hear her friend sound more animated.
She’d been unusually quiet recently and almost seemed lost in a world of her own.
In the bookshop a couple of days ago, Gage and Nathan had been in deep discussion about the Cornish books section he hoped to start soon, so she’d asked Melissa how she was.
Melissa had fixed on a bright smile, and insisted she was fine.
Later, Tamara might try to have a word with Josie to get her opinion.
The two used to be neighbours and were still very close.