Chapter 41
41
Despite her confused personal feelings for Ethan, Libby was still feeling excited about her idea for the theme for the Christmas train over breakfast the following morning.
‘So the meeting went well last night?’ asked her dad.
She nodded, as she took a sip of her coffee, trying to dismiss the thought of Ethan’s lips on hers when they had kissed. Something she had tried and failed to do all night. ‘There’s lots to do, but we’ve all promised to help come up with ideas for the decorations. But I came up with the theme!’
Her dad looked impressed. ‘And what have you decided upon?’ he asked.
‘ The Nutcracker ,’ she told him. Suddenly, she hesitated. It was another memory linked with her mother. Perhaps it was too painful a reminder. ‘You see,’ she stumbled on. ‘We used to go to the ballet when I was younger and?—’
‘I remember.’ Thankfully, rather than looking upset, her dad was smiling as if to himself. ‘You know, it was me you have to thank for that.’
‘Why?’ asked Libby, surprised.
‘Because your mother used to hear me playing Tchaikovsky’s marvellous music and wanted to know what the story was behind it,’ he told her. ‘So I explained the story and she immediately got the both of you tickets to see the ballet.’
‘And it became a Christmas tradition,’ said Libby, heartened by the reminder of their happy marriage. ‘I had no idea you loved it too.’
‘Indeed.’ Her dad nodded. ‘I must say, it’s been many years since I’ve heard the music. I must bring out that CD of mine.’
‘Actually, you may need to dust it off a bit quicker than that,’ said Libby, suddenly feeling nervous.
‘Elizabeth,’ said her dad, inclining his head to one side as he studied her. ‘You have that exact same look you had when you told me that you had reversed the family car into a bollard.’
She grimaced. ‘I’d forgotten about that!’ She gave a small giggle. ‘And I’d still swear that the bollard moved, not the car.’
‘Now what were you saying about The Nutcracker ,’ prompted her dad.
‘Well, Ethan’s going to decorate the railway line with different scenes and they’re going to play some of the music over the speakers,’ said Libby, her words coming out in a bit of a rush as she realised the magnitude of what she was about to ask him. ‘But not everyone will know the story, so I suggested having someone narrate it over the speakers to explain what happens as we go along. Pre-recorded in advance, of course.’
Her dad nodded. ‘Sounds marvellous,’ he said. ‘But I’m still failing to understand your nerves.’
She took a deep breath. ‘Well, I suggested that you might be the perfect person to record the story as a narrator,’ she told him.
Her dad’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
‘Of course, if you don’t want to do it, then everyone will understand,’ said Libby quickly.
‘Why would you think that?’ replied her dad, breaking into a smile. ‘In fact, I’m very flattered that you even thought of me.’
‘I remembered how much you always enjoyed reading stories aloud.’
‘Thank you, my dear,’ said her dad, reaching out to pat her hand. ‘Then I accept.’
‘You do?’ Libby was thrilled.
‘Of course,’ said her dad. ‘Shall I try to find a transcript online?’
Libby got up from the table. ‘That would be great,’ she told him. She was so pleased that he had agreed to narrate the story. It felt like another huge step forward for her dad’s recovery. ‘I’d love to help but I’ve got to rush off. I’ve got the last truffles to box up in order for the delivery to the hotel in time for the party tonight.’ She couldn’t quite believe it, but she was almost there with the huge order.
‘Then it sounds as if we’ve both got a busy day ahead,’ said her dad, with a smile.
At last, she thought, as she watched her dad pick up his iPad to start searching for the transcript, it seemed as if things were finally coming together for the both of them.
Later that morning, Libby looked at the huge stack of boxes that held her chocolate truffles. ‘Well, we did it,’ she said, shaking her head in disbelief. There had been times when she hadn’t thought that they would make it, but thanks to a group effort, the order was complete.
‘Clever girl,’ said Grams, stepping forward to give her a hug.
‘I only made it on time thanks to you and everyone else helping me,’ Libby told her. ‘I owe you all a huge drink tonight, if you’re all free.’
‘You’re on,’ replied Harriet, smiling. ‘And we were happy to help.’
‘I never doubted you for a second that you wouldn’t get it done,’ said Katy, with a grin.
‘And you can always carry on using our kitchen,’ said Grams.
‘Thanks,’ replied Libby. ‘But I know how busy you’re going to be with all the Christmas pudding orders that you’ve got already.’
‘Can’t we work alongside each other?’ asked Grams. ‘It’s been so nice having another cook in the kitchen.’
‘Ahem,’ said Flora, in a pointed tone. ‘So what does that make me?’ she asked.
It was a fact that Flora hadn’t inherited her grandmother’s skill of baking.
‘The best granddaughter in the world,’ said Grams. ‘Who gets an A for effort.’
‘And a D, maybe a C minus for results,’ added Libby with a grin.
‘Very funny,’ said Flora before sticking out her tongue. ‘Why am I helping pack up all this if you’re just going to keep insulting me?’
‘Because that’s what friends do,’ Libby told her.
‘Who’s insulting mi amore?’ said Nico, coming into the farmhouse kitchen.
‘One of my so-called best friends,’ Flora told him. ‘Apparently I can’t bake!’
She looked at him, waiting patiently for Nico to reply.
He gave her a gracious smile and took her in his arms. ‘You are a wonderful painter, an amazing girlfriend and the love of my life.’ Flora’s hands crept up to his shoulder as he gave her a gentle kiss. ‘Who cares if you can’t bake?’ he added, once they’d finished their embrace.
Flora gave him a playful smack on the shoulder whilst Grams and Libby laughed.
But seeing the happy couple reminded her of Ethan and that magical kiss they had shared only the previous evening. And she found herself hoping and wishing for another and then another…