Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
JESSY
I t’s strange seeing Luke in my kitchen. Quite surreal really and as he chats to my parents, the scene almost appears normal. Then I picture his real life and the people he usually mixes with and my heart sinks.
He doesn’t belong here. Not really. He may want to help, but he’s got a life far from here and this must all seem dull in comparison to that.
Then there’s Morgana.
The rather glamorous, attractive other half of him who definitely doesn’t belong here. She will enjoy playing at renovation and acting a part but she will soon get bored. Granthaven is hardly the metropolis and definitely not a place for celebrities.
As soon as the excitement wears off, they will pack up and leave, and I should really let them get on with that.
As I peer into the window of a different world, it makes my own seem rather empty in comparison. Sure, I have family and friends, but I live their life, not my own. I am merely occupying space until I move on and forge my own family and I hate the fact it will more than likely not be here.
The young couple who have just moved into Stream View probably won’t hang around either. As soon as they have enough money, they will take advantage of a shared ownership property in Dorchester, or scrape enough together to rent a house in a better location. Granthaven has always been a stop gap due to its cheap rents and no rules and I must admit that’s all it’s good for now.
I tune back into their conversation and wish I had kept listening as Luke exclaims, “The night the mistletoe died?”
“Yes, Luke. It’s a tradition in Granthaven. It’s staged every year.”
His gaze rests on my heated face and I say quickly, “Luke doesn’t want to hear about that, mum. Anyway, tell me about Vienna. What was your hotel like?”
Luke holds up his hand.
“No, I’m interested. Tell me.”
I glare at mum as she sits in the kitchen chair, her hand wrapped around a mug of coffee and says with a deep breath, “I’ll tell you the story behind the tradition if you like.”
I make to protest and Luke says quickly. “Please. I’m interested.”
She smiles as she begins the story I have grown up listening to and is woven into the fabric of life in Granthaven.
“Many years ago Granthaven was a thriving community presided over by Lord and Lady Townsend. Life was good, and it was a happy time and the gracious landowners involved the village in every aspect of their lives. Christmas was a particular favourite of the Townsends because it was the perfect excuse to throw many parties, the entire village pulling together to make a happy time. They used holly with berries and ivy to decorate the manor house. They were tied into glorious swags around every surface, along with bunches of mistletoe hanging all around. Candles burned on mantles and the fires roared in the grates and the mistletoe was in abundance due to the lady of the house’s love of the plant. She loved how it reminded her of happy times and the magic that comes from togetherness, kindness, and the spirit of Christmas. When the entire village came together to celebrate happy times and it became an important addition to the festivities. It was tradition that a woman caught under the mistletoe had to return any kiss offered or not receive any marriage proposals for a year. Back then, it was the most important thing in a woman’s life to secure a good marriage, so the threat was a very real one. A few years later Lady Townsend grew sick. The lord was extremely worried about her and engaged the most eminent doctors to cure her. It was to no avail, and she died on Christmas Eve. The very night she loved above all others. It was the darkest time in Granthaven’s history and when the lord woke on Christmas Day, it was to the devastating sight that all the mistletoe had died. All around the house were shrivelled bunches of the sacred plant and the lord, in his grief, scoured the land to replace it, discovering every bunch in the trees had also died. To this day, not one sprig of mistletoe has ever grown in Granthaven and legend has it that when the heart has been restored to the village, the mistletoe will grow again.”
Mum smiles softly. “So, every year the villagers stage a pantomime celebrating the legend so that even if the mistletoe has died, the meaning behind it lives on.”
“The meaning?” Luke asks, obviously riveted by the story and mum nods.
“Yes, when the manor is filled with true love and happiness, the mistletoe will thrive and all it takes is one kiss under its bough to restore the estate to its former glory.”
She points to me and I want the ground to swallow me up.
“Jessy is playing Lady Townsend this year and Scott Barnes has been roped in to play the lord. It was Grace’s turn this year, but she’s off on her travels, so Jessy had to step up.”
“Scott Barnes?” Luke leans forward.
I add, “My friend’s brother, which is a huge problem.”
“Why?”
I pull a face. “Because Scott is like my older brother and the thought of kissing him screams incest, and I am still working out a way to change the script.”
“Good luck with that, darling. It’s the entire point of the play.” Mum rolls her eyes and I sigh heavily.
“Anyway, we should continue our tour of the village. We only stopped to say hi, oh and to tell you I’ve got a job.”
“Oh my God!”
Mum jumps up and dad says loudly, “Congratulations my clever girl.”
“It’s not in London, is it?” Mum’s face falls and dad slips his arm around her shoulder and squeezes her in a show of support.
“No, it’s um, working for Luke, actually.”
“I don’t understand.”
Mum peers between us and Luke nods. “I heard of Jessy’s degree and I’m looking for a business manager to help me with Granthaven, and she was the perfect fit.”
“That’s amazing news. Oh my God.”
Mum tears away from dad and hugs Luke hard, who appears a little bewildered and dad claps him on the back and shakes his free hand vigorously as mum clings onto him like a limpet on coral.
“Thank you so much. That’s such good news. We should crack open the elderflower wine to celebrate.”
“NO!” I say in horror as dad sprints over to the larder cupboard.
“Nonsense, Jessy, this is the perfect time to uncork the vintage elderflower.” Mum adds, and I stand, holding my hands out in front of me. “No. Please.”
Suddenly, it’s as if one of Wilf’’s guns has gone off as the cork explodes from its tether and sprays elderflower wine all over the room, causing my parents to yell with delight as dad grabs a glass and yells, “Don’t waste it. It’s good stuff.”
He hands the glass to a bemused-looking Luke and as they hand one to me and fill their own glasses, dad says loudly, “To a long and happy partnership.”
Luke catches my eye and grins and I have never downed a glass of my dad’s elderflower wine as fast as this one because what the hell is happening to me? I am falling hard for another woman’s man and, to make matters worse, he is paying me for the privilege.