Snowflakes on Silver Cove: A festive, feel-good Christmas romance (White Cliff Bay Book 2) (24 page)

He sighed heavily.

‘Just try to relax, be yourself. If she sees the George I know, you’ll be fine.’ Libby moved to the door. ‘I should go. Look, text me, if you can, let me know how it’s going.’

George smiled weakly as he watched her go, wishing more than anything that he could spend the night with her instead.

L
ibby sat
at the table that George normally sat at to play poker, with four pints sitting in the middle. George had asked her to buy the boys a pint and explain that something pressing had come up. But she knew the boys would be upset that he had cancelled. One time when Matt was sick, they had decided not to play as it wasn’t right playing as a threesome. So she hoped, somehow, she could make it up to them by playing in George’s place.

Nick and Matt were the first to arrive and they stopped dead when they saw her at their table.

‘Nick, I heard you on the radio the other day, you sounded brilliant.’

Nick blushed. ‘Thanks.’

‘And Matt, did you make this?’ She gestured to the starfish around her neck, and he nodded. ‘It’s beautiful, you really are so talented.’

Matt sat down and sipped from his pint, eyeing her suspiciously.

‘George couldn’t make it tonight, something’s come up, and I know you like to play as a four, so I thought I would take his place.’

Nick gave a sharp intake of breath as he too sat down. ‘No wives, girlfriends or significant others, them’s the rules. Poker night is a strictly boys’ affair.’

‘Well that’s OK. I’m not a wife or girlfriend.’

‘You’re a significant other though,’ Matt said.

Libby thought about this for a moment, not sure if she liked being an ‘other’.

‘Big Dave won’t like this,’ Nick said, shaking his head.

She rolled her eyes and stood up. ‘I’ll leave you boys to it then, I’d hate to get in the way of any male bonding.’ She turned and walked straight into Big Dave. Literally butting her head into his ample chest.

‘What’s going on here?’ Big Dave said.

‘Oh nothing, George can’t make it and I thought I’d play the fourth man, help you out a bit, but apparently it’s boys only,’ she said, catching Kat’s eye over Dave’s shoulder. Her friend rolled her eyes in sympathy with Libby’s predicament.

Big Dave narrowed his eyes. ‘Did you buy the drinks for us?’

‘Yes, but it doesn’t matter, I—’

Big Dave looked suddenly furious. ‘Boys, where are your manners? A girl buys you a drink, offers to help you out of a hole and you’re ready to cast her out in the cold.’

‘Dave, really, it’s not a problem.’ Libby really didn’t want to play poker that badly, she just wanted to not land George in hot water with them. In truth the fact that they didn’t want her to play had been something of a relief.

‘Lib, we were only joking, of course you can play with us,’ Nick said, patting her recently departed chair enthusiastically.

Matt nodded. ‘Sorry Lib, we were honestly joking, and I can’t turn away anyone wearing one of my ridiculously expensive necklaces.’

‘Your stuff is stupidly overpriced,’ Nick said to Matt, catching Libby’s hand and pulling her into the chair.

‘I caught your show too, thought you sounded like Mickey Mouse,’ Matt said, shuffling the cards, as Big Dave kissed Kat on the cheek and sat down too.

‘I thought he sounded brilliant,’ Big Dave said. ‘You really made me laugh and, Matt, your jewellery is beautiful and I think you should charge more for it.’

Nick and Matt looked at Big Dave suspiciously.

‘Why are you so happy tonight?’ asked Nick, then looked over at Kat who was smiling inanely at the bar.

‘Nothing, just, you know… happy,’ shrugged Big Dave, and Libby could see the truth of his words straight away.

‘You dirty dog,’ Matt muttered. ‘You’ve had sex, haven’t you? She’s nine months pregnant!’

Big Dave blushed and shrugged again. ‘Yeah. And you know what, it was bloody amazing.’

As Matt stole a crisp from her bag, Libby smiled at her acceptance of her into their little gang. Her mum would have loved this. It was she who had taught Libby how to play poker, dragging her along to her weekly poker nights with her friends, the only time in the week her mum had been allowed out and the only time Libby had ever seen her really happy. Libby’s mum had wanted to travel the world and see the sights but the one thing that had brought her happiness was her relationship with her friends and that was the one thing that Libby had been missing out on all these years. She looked around the pub at the people who had become her friends. No one looked at her as an outsider, they had all welcomed her into the fold so naturally and easily. She had real friendships here: George, Amy and Kat, and so many others who loved her exactly as she was. Regardless of what might happen with George, Libby wanted to stay here now. It was time to stop running and she couldn’t think of a better place in the world than White Cliff Bay to call her home.

G
eorge paced the lounge nervously
. Libby had been gone quite a while now, Cerys was late and the nerves that Libby had helped to calm were creeping back in. He would have preferred Libby to stay holding his hand until Cerys arrived – hell, if it had been appropriate he would have taken Libby on the date with him. She could have sat next to him and prompted him with things to say or do.

Just then, as he was debating whether he needed more aftershave, Cerys arrived, looking stunning in a red dress that showed a lot of cleavage.

‘Hey.’ He smiled shyly as he opened the door. ‘You look fantastic.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, looking him up and down.

He waited for some reciprocal comment about how he looked – a comment about his shirt perhaps, but none was forthcoming.

‘Where are we going tonight?’ Cerys asked, when the silence became palpable as she moved past him into his flat.

‘Oh, The Cherry Tree, on the far side of White Cliff Bay. It’s a new Indian place, just opened a few weeks ago.’

Cerys nodded but he couldn’t help but notice the small pout of disappointment that crossed her face. She moved into the lounge and looked around with disgust at all his decorations and inflatables. For the first time in his life George was utterly embarrassed about his love for all things Christmas.

‘Well, shall we go?’ he said, suddenly feeling the nerves that Libby had calmed earlier erupting from his chest. He picked up his keys and wallet and moved to the door.

‘Yes but… are you not going to wear a jacket and tie?’

He looked down at himself self-consciously. Libby had said it looked too formal for an Indian restaurant, like he was going to a job interview, but he supposed, in a way, he was. This was where he had to make a good first impression.

‘Yes of course, I’ll just get them.’

He moved quickly to his bedroom and pulled out a jacket that went with his trousers. But now he would have to tuck his shirt in and the shirt Libby had chosen, one of her favourites, wasn’t really the sort that could be tucked in – and which tie could he wear? He wanted to ring her up and ask her, but he knew he couldn’t.

George started to unbutton his blue shirt and grabbed a red one instead, but suddenly Cerys was standing in the room with him. He quickly wrapped his shirt round himself, to protect his body from view.

She looked at the red shirt on the bed and then moved to the wardrobe. She fingered his brightly coloured shirts and pulled out a black one.

‘Why don’t you wear this instead? It will go better with the jacket. Where are your ties?’

He gestured to Candy, suddenly feeling embarrassed about the mannequin standing in his bedroom.

Cerys didn’t seem too impressed either, but taking it in her stride, she walked over and flicked through his tie collection, and pulled out a black satin one.

‘Here, this will finish it off nicely.’

She stood watching him, clearly waiting for him to get undressed, but he wasn’t ready for her to see his body yet. When he didn’t make any move to get changed, she seemed to get the message and walked back into the lounge, closing the bedroom door softly behind her.

He quickly got changed, then surveyed himself in the full-length mirror.

Libby was right. He looked like he was going to a funeral. He looked drab and boring. He sighed.

Then he remembered what else Libby had said, how Cerys had to fall in love with the real him. Feeling suddenly mischievous, he slid the black tie off his neck and grabbed the Wily Coyote and Road Runner tie that Libby had bought him. He quickly put it on and then looked back in the mirror. At least there was a small part of the real him that would go on this date.

He went back into the lounge and watched for Cerys’ reaction. There was a slight scowl as she took in the cartoon tie, but she picked up her handbag and waited for him near the door.

He grabbed his wallet and keys and followed her out. He felt sure she’d be scowling even more if she knew the tie went ‘beepbeep’ when you pressed the bottom of it. Smiling to himself, he followed her down the stairs to the street. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

A
s Amy pulled
a pint for one of the customers, she watched Libby win another round of poker – the fifth that night if the groans of despair were anything to go by.

Tonight had been lovely. Whereas, before, Seb had been studiously ignoring her whenever they had been together in the pub, tonight he had been friendly, chatting to her as much as he was chatting to Sally. Amy loved it; she wanted to work alongside him like this every night. If only she could kiss him, hug him when she wanted to, her life would be complete. He still wanted to keep it quiet at the moment, just until he had told Judith. Though any stragglers left at the town hall the day before would have seen them kissing and dancing in the courtyard and it wouldn’t take long for word to get around, if it hadn’t already.

Amy so wanted to believe that they had this bright and happy future together, but she refused to believe in it yet. Not until it was cast in stone.

Somehow, something was going to take away her bliss. After another night of passion, Seb would change his mind, or Judith would throw a tantrum or at the very least make a voodoo doll of her and stick it in a bowl of acid. Marriage and children were a very long way off indeed.

G
eorge had been determined
to win back some of that magic from the day before; while he had changed Cerys’ tyre they had chatted a lot. Surely that didn’t mean they now had nothing left to talk about. But unfortunately, during the short drive to the restaurant, it did seem that was the case. Everything he tried resulted in blank stares or one-word answers. Cerys seemed to lack any kind of sense of humour at all. How could she be so different just twenty-four hours later?

Still, at least things might perk up a bit at The Cherry Tree. With Mani playing his violin, who couldn’t fail to be amused?

They walked into the restaurant and Kamal greeted him like an old friend. ‘You have come back, you enjoyed the food?’

‘Yes, very much.’

Kamal looked behind George and his face fell when he saw Cerys. ‘Where is your beautiful girlfriend?’

George flushed with embarrassment; he hadn’t thought about this problem.

Cerys glared at him. ‘So you bring all your dates here then?’

‘No, it’s not like that. Me and Libby came here, the girl from the flat opposite mine, we wanted to try it out. Kamal obviously thought that we were a couple,’ he explained. Because they had told him they were. What was it Libby had said? That they had been friends for six months and that it was their first date as a couple? Kamal had been delighted, that their relationship was built on such love. George swallowed.

Cerys smiled tightly. ‘It’s fine, George, you don’t need to explain. I know you’ve been out with other women before me.’

But Kamal was not to be put off; if he had any customer relation skills or sense of social etiquette, they seemed to have completely deserted him. ‘I thought you loved her, it’s rare you see such love between two people. I said to my wife that night that you two were going to grow old and grey together. Your girlfriend loved you too, so much. I could see that. Why are you not with her? Did you two fall out?’

Cerys arched an eyebrow at George as they sat down in the window.

‘No, Kamal, she’s just a friend.’ Just a friend, how could he describe Libby like that? She was so much more than that, she was the single most important person in his life. But thinking about Libby like that was certainly not going to help his already flagging date.

He just had to ask Cerys questions about herself. Libby had said women like to talk about themselves.

‘So Cerys,’ George started after they had placed their order, ‘have you always lived round here?’ He knew she hadn’t – she had a slight northern accent, and this he hoped would start a conversation about her life prior to White Cliff Bay.

It did. She quite simply did not stop for breath. He listened, he ate and he listened. At least, he thought wryly, it didn’t leave time for awkward silences.

U
nfortunately for George
, Mani wasn’t working that night, and he desperately needed something to lighten the tedium of the date. Mani’s violin playing would have been right up his street. But instead he had to wade through numerous awkward silences. He had run fresh out of questions and all funny anecdotes had fallen on deaf ears. Whenever the silences dragged on, Cerys would think of another story to tell him about herself. He now knew that her colleague at work could never get her tea the way she liked it, that her favourite flower was a poppy, and that her dog when she was a child was called Tripod and only had three legs. He could actually feel brain cells dying; it was almost as if his brain had decided he wouldn’t need the cells responsible for intellectual or humorous conversation any more and as such was removing them to make way for the layers of inane babble she was torturing him with.

Occasionally, probably more out of politeness than interest, Cerys had asked him questions. George had talked about his job, which she actually seemed vaguely interested in. He told her briefly about his ex-wife, and a bit about how insecure it had left him. Weirdly though, Cerys had decided that the moment when he was vulnerably baring his soul was the moment to suggest he needed a haircut. When his phone rang at that point, it was something of a relief.