Chapter Six
Jen glanced nervously around the busy pub, scanning the crowds of cheerful customers, looking out for Julia’s auburn curls, so similar to her own; no sign of her.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Jen sipped her mulled wine, letting the warming spices course through her, easing her aching muscles and chilly fingers and toes after the walk.
Babblebrook really was the worst possible location for her birthday weekend.
How was she supposed to relax and enjoy her friends’ company when she was constantly worried she was going to bump into her snooty sister?
Still, she was satisfied that Julia wasn’t in the pub, she probably had other things to do, didn’t she? Perfect mum stuff, like doing a shop at a farmer’s market or taking the kids to gym club or the library.
Her stomach dropped a little as she imagined her niece and nephew.
She sent presents for their birthdays and was happy to look at the pictures her mum occasionally sent, trying not to let herself think of the feel of a small child’s warm embrace.
She FaceTimed the children occasionally, so she knew Amy had her dad’s dark curls – or at least, he’d once had dark curls, he was probably bald now – and George was a sturdy toddler with no hair at all.
Perhaps he was actually the one who took after his dad.
She preferred to avoid Julia. But she was still the children’s auntie, and so she went to family gatherings, usually managing to play with them and avoid the adults as much as possible.
They were shown to a table by the roaring open fire, and settled themselves in. ‘I’m starving,’ Jen said, her eyes running over the delicious-looking options on the menu. They all laughed, shaking their heads.
‘Of course you are,’ Ted said.
‘What?’ she asked, smiling. ‘I’ve worked up an appetite. Bit early for turkey, though.’
‘I’m having the lot – pigs in blankets, roasties, stuffing – yes please, bring it on,’ Ted said, closing the menu decisively.
‘You’re in full Christmas mode already,’ Jen grunted.
He grinned. ‘You know me. Never too early.’
‘Yeah, remember at college, when we all came home one day in September and you’d decorated everywhere?’ Rich said.
Lou was nodding vigorously. ‘It was so cute, all those lights and—’
Jen snorted. ‘It was not cute, it looked like a giant elf had vomited tinsel over everything.’ At the time she’d actually loved it. But that was before her Christmas-aversion began.
‘Hey, it was very festive and it was not September, it was almost December, thank you very much!’ Ted protested, laughing. ‘I’m surprised you’re not all just ordering a pile of humbugs, you bunch of Scrooges.’
No humbugs were ordered, but plenty of delicious food; turkey for Ted, nut roast for Lou, chicken for Rich and slow-cooked pork for Jen.
It didn’t take long to arrive, and conversation soon dropped to a minimum as they fell on their food.
The air was rich with the smell of roasted meat and gravy, woodsmoke from the fire and pine from the large tree in the corner.
Apart from being so close to where her sister lived, The Plough was the perfect village pub, Jen had to admit.
Cosy lamps lit up corners and horse brasses gleamed on beams. Red and gold baubles hung from the ceiling, and fairy lights glittered on every wall.
The wooden bar was so clean it shone, and the staff smiled and joked with customers as they went about their work.
‘What’s going on out there?’ Lou asked, pointing to the window, as their puddings arrived.
They dragged their attention away from the food – Jen had already taken a bite of her sticky toffee pudding, and was reluctant to think about anything else.
But there was definitely some excitement taking place on the village street, where figures in bobble hats could be seen milling around and coloured lights were twinkling in the rapidly gathering darkness. Voices and laughter floated in.
‘Christmas market,’ Ted said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
‘Ooh, lovely,’ Lou said. ‘Let’s check it out after this, I’d love to pick up some bits for presents.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure . . . let’s just go back and hang out at the house, shall we?’ Jen said.
Her friends stared at her. Lou and Rich looked perplexed, but as her eye met Ted’s she knew he understood why she was trying to avoid the market.
‘Come on, Jen,’ he said softly. ‘You have to see them sometime.’
A silence fell over the table. Lou was intently examining her nails while Rich cleared his throat awkwardly and scrolled on his phone. Jen put her spoon down; her appetite had deserted her.
‘She might not even be there. And we’ll be with you.’ Ted reached across the table and squeezed her hand. ‘You’ll be OK. If you see her, just say a quick hello. No harm done, eh?’
She stared at him, and at her other friends, who were still studiously ignoring this awkward conversation.
Her heart was racing and tears pricked her eyes.
The last thing she wanted was to see her sister, and she wondered briefly whether she could play the birthday card and insist they did what she wanted.
But Ted was staring at her earnestly with those big brown eyes. And he was being so annoyingly reasonable.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t spoken to Julia for years. There had been the odd stilted chat at those family gatherings, where she at least got to see the children. Julia had tried consistently to rebuild their relationship, and Jen had steadfastly refused to soften.
Ted was right. If the worst came to the worst she would say hello and move on. And with a bit of luck, Julia and her perfect family would be busy doing something else.
Because Julia was not so perfect, as Jen knew better than anyone. And she wasn’t about to let her forget it.
They wrapped scarves around their necks and pulled on gloves as they stepped out of the warm pub and onto the chilly village street, their breath clouding in the freezing air.
Darkness had fallen and even Jen had to admit that the market looked utterly charming, with its rows of stalls on either side of the street adorned with garlands and Christmas wreaths.
A choir dressed in Victorian costumes were singing carols and collecting for charity, and the smell of roasting chestnuts drifted through the air.
Each market stall was like a little wooden hut, twinkling with lights.
A voice boomed across the general hubbub. ‘Newcomers!’
They all turned to gape at the owner of the voice, who was a woman in a Santa hat and dog collar manning a stall that sold mulled wine by the bottle and glass. She was smiling at them, and they all trooped over, as though drawn by an invisible thread.
‘Well done, Ted, I see you’ve brought some friends to come and spend their money,’ she said, holding out her hand and giving each of them a firm shake.
‘I’m Reverend Pauline. What do you think of our inaugural Babblebrook Christmas Market, eh?
Be careful how you answer, I’m the one who organised it!
’ She barked a peal of laughter, but Jen had the distinct impression that she was not a woman to be trifled with.
‘Hi Pauline, how’s it going?’ Ted asked.
‘Very good, thank you, Mr Piper, we’ve been very busy, so I think we’ll have done well.
’ She glanced around at them all. ‘Lots of good causes we’re raising money for, mostly charities, and then of course there’s the tombola the school are running to raise funds for their Christmas Fair. The children are so excited.’
At this Ted nodded, pulling on his scarf to loosen it, and Jen saw a flash of anxiety in his eyes. ‘Ha, yes, well, I’d better go and see how they’re getting on,’ he said. ‘Hopefully the takings have been elf-y. Better to be affluent than effluent, as they say!’
Jen grimaced at him. She was pretty sure that ‘they’ said no such thing.
He dashed off, and Reverend Pauline turned her attention to them. ‘Can I interest any of you in some mulled wine?’ she asked.
Jen and Lou, full of roast dinner and pudding, shook their heads. But Rich was picking up the bottles and inspecting the labels. ‘Want a taster?’ she asked, already ladling wine into a paper cup. Rich took it from her enthusiastically.
Lou glanced around. ‘This is lovely,’ she said. ‘The choir is perfect, makes it feel so Christmassy.’
Reverend Pauline shrugged and pulled a face, glancing towards the choir, who were now singing a beautiful rendition of ‘Once in Royal David’s City’. ‘I suppose,’ she said. ‘All a bit traditional, isn’t it? I want some Slade or Cliff Richard before they’re done.’
Jen laughed, but was rewarded by a steady stare from Reverend Pauline, and hastily altered her expression.
This woman was not to be messed with, and Jen would bet that her church services were more interesting than most. She was about to ask if she was involved in the school, wondering if she knew Amy and George, but Lou had spotted something she was interested in and began dragging her away.
She pulled her to where a smiling woman was selling home-made children’s clothes. As they passed the tombola they waved at Ted, who was now on the other side of the stall, running the thing.
‘We’ve lost him for the night now,’ Jen muttered, trying not to feel too disgruntled.
‘I know, he’s so dedicated, isn’t he?’ Lou said. ‘That school are lucky to have him, I wish our deputy head was half as keen!’
‘Hmm.’ Jen couldn’t disagree, but she couldn’t help begrudging the time Ted was spending on this. It was her birthday, the friends were having a weekend to celebrate, he’d promised to be by her side if she bumped into Julia, but he was distracted by work.
She watched as a little boy looked hopefully at the tickets he’d pulled out of the barrel, his face crumpling as he realised that he’d won nothing. As his mum comforted him, Ted reached behind him surreptitiously and produced a teddy bear from a stash that he apparently had secreted there.
The little boy’s face was immediately wreathed in smiles as he clutched the bear to him, and the mum smiled gratefully at Ted, who nodded.
Jen found herself smiling at this sweet interaction.
There was no doubt that Ted was good at his job, good for the children and good for the school.
It must be satisfying to know that you were making a difference to children’s lives like that.
She waved as she saw Lottie running over to the tombola, Michelle following her. They waved back, Lottie grinning widely at her before pulling her mum over to the stall. And Jen was happy knowing that, even if the little girl didn’t pick a winning ticket, she wouldn’t be leaving empty-handed.
Lou was cooing over some cute little dungarees as she chatted to the woman at the stall, and Jen helped her choose a set for each of the toddlers, one with reindeer on and one with elves.
‘Christmas Day outfits!’ Lou said, obviously delighted. ‘And maybe a Christmas card photoshoot too.’
‘Thank God there aren’t any bigger ones, otherwise you’d be buying a family set,’ Jen said.
Lou grinned. ‘That’s a great idea!’
The stall woman laughed. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have any that would fit you.’
Jen glanced around as Lou and the woman happily talked on.
There was a stall selling sweets, with traditional glass jars filled with treats, colourful lollipops and all kind of festive goodies – candy canes, jelly Santas, chocolate-wreath jazzies and more.
There were glass decorations, miniature snow scenes, handmade jewellery, festive cards and wrap.
If it was Christmassy, it was there; this was more festive nonsense than Jen could stomach in a year, never mind a single hour.
A spicy tang drifted through the air, and Jen sniffed appreciatively, tracking it to a stall where an older, smartly dressed couple were busy serving customers.
The board declared they were selling Jamaican patties, with a choice of beef, chicken or vegetable filling.
Her red-painted fingernails matched his festive tie.
Jen wondered idly whether it was worth picking up a couple to take back to the cottage in case she found herself in need of a late-night snack.
The most popular stall had a queue of cheerful people waiting for hot chocolates of various flavours and choosing delicious-looking handmade biscuits and cakes.
If she hadn’t been so stuffed with sticky toffee pudding, Jen would definitely have been joining them.
She heard a warm peal of laughter ring out from there, and realised that it was being manned by the lady from the café, Marnie, and the young girl they’d seen walking the dog.
Next to them was a stall selling wooden decorations – Christmas trees, reindeer, little light-up village scenes and decorations of all kinds to hang from the tree.
‘Let’s check this out,’ she said, pulling Lou over to the stall. There must be something there that her niece and nephew would like. ‘Ooh,’ she murmured as they got a closer look at the twinkling blue eyes of the man behind the stall. ‘He’s quite handsome!’
Lou giggled and smacked her arm. ‘I’m not looking; I’m married, thank you.’
Jen wasn’t married. Something about the stall-holder’s blue eyes reminded her of Train Guy, although this man was a little older. And she’d learned her lesson there.
The stall was full of beautiful things, from delicate keyrings to wooden bowls. But it was the row of Nutcracker toys that caught Jen’s eye, a brightly painted, gleaming row of figures in various sizes. She laughed as she picked up one that held a drum.
‘What do you think to this?’ she asked. ‘Maybe one each for Amy and George?’
Lou admired the toy. ‘It’s gorgeous. But George is only a toddler, isn’t he? I don’t think it would be—’
‘. . . said it’s Auntie Jen, look.’
A little voice cut through the general hubbub. Jen turned at the sound of her name and there, standing just behind them, was Amy, pulling on Julia’s coat and pointing and smiling shyly at Jen.
‘Auntie Jen!’ she said again, her voice more confident now, ringing with excitement. ‘We even didn’t know you were coming!’
Jen smiled down at Amy as her niece stared up at her, dark eyes wide and a smear of something that looked like chocolate on her mouth, still clutching her mum’s coat. Jen crouched, opening her arms and drinking in the solid warmth as Amy stepped into them.
Glancing over the little girl’s shoulder, she saw Julia, her face pale and mouth open. Gazing at her with wide, hopeful eyes.