What Happens At Christmas... (29 page)

She managed a smile. ‘Surprisingly good. What's it look like?'

‘A domestic violence advert.' Julia wasn't at her most diplomatic. Holly turned back to Jack and raised an eyebrow.

‘That bad?'

‘Just a bit bruised, but you still look gorgeous. I'd be more worried about your shoe if I were you.' He pointed across to where Holly's lovely black high heeled shoe was lying on the hearth, now minus a heel. ‘I'll poke around in the snow tomorrow and dig out the missing bit. Maybe they can stick it back on.'

Holly wasn't so sure, but she couldn't care less. Shoes were replaceable. Jack wasn't. She was very conscious of the depth of emotion that had been awoken in her when she thought he might be dead. She also thought of the scene she had caused at Howard's party. She picked up the phone and called the Castle. She had to wait a couple of minutes, but she then found herself put through to Howard.

‘Howard, hello. It's me, Holly.'

‘I'm so pleased Jack's all right. He phoned, you know. And how about you? I told him how terribly upset you were. Are you feeling better?'

‘Much better thanks, Howard.' She decided not to mention her black eye. ‘And I do apologise for the scene I made at your party.'

‘Don't apologise, my dear. Your reaction was perfectly understandable coming, as it did, from a woman in love.'

‘From a what…?'

‘You heard. Well, just in case you had any doubts, now you know.'

Holly didn't know how to respond, particularly with Jack sitting only a few feet from her. She changed the subject. ‘Anyway, Howard, I wanted to ask you if you felt like coming here for lunch tomorrow. I've got Justin and Amanda, Julia and Jack of course. Will you come, please?'

‘How terribly kind of you, Holly. Why, yes, of course I'd love to come. I'm honoured to be invited.'

‘That's wonderful. Come whenever you like. We'll be eating late anyway, so whatever time suits you.'

‘Shall we say one o'clock? I'll get Geoffrey to drop me down in the Range Rover. See you then. Now I must go as we're organising a couple of tractors and trailers to get people down to the church for midnight mass.'

Holly put the phone down and looked around at the others. ‘He's organising a tractor and trailer to get people to the church.'

Jack grinned. ‘I suppose it wouldn't do for the vicar to miss the service.' He caught Holly's eye. ‘I can't say I feel in the mood for sitting in a cold church myself. What about you two? Feel like going?'

Holly shook her head gently then reached for the frozen peas once more. The bruise had started to throb a bit now. ‘Not at all. If I didn't have to take the dog out, I'd happily stay here by the stove.'

Jack stood up. ‘Don't worry about Stirling. I'll take him out.'

‘No you won't. I will.' Julia stood up in her turn and pointed her finger at Jack. ‘You've almost died of hypothermia today already, Holly you're probably concussed, but I'm fine. Just give me a minute to change out of this dress and I'll take him out.' She walked round and pressed Jack back into his seat. ‘Sit. Stay. Down boy. Good boy.'

After Julia and Stirling had left for their walk, Holly and Jack sat quietly for some minutes. Finally, it was Jack who broke the silence.

‘I'm really sorry for worrying you, Holly.' She looked across at him with her good eye and smiled wearily as he went on. ‘I borrowed a phone and tried ringing here. It's the only number I could remember, but by that time it was too late and you'd already left.' He caught her eye. ‘Howard told me how upset you were. I'm very sorry.' He reached over and caught her free hand in both of his. ‘Thanks for being so concerned for my wellbeing.'

Holly knew she was going to have to be very careful or she would burst into tears all over again. She cleared her throat. ‘Of course I was concerned. There's a turkey to stuff tomorrow.' She even managed another smile.

Jack glanced at his watch. ‘Holly, I wonder if I could ask a favour of you.'

‘Anything.'

‘Would you mind dropping your bag of peas for a moment and standing up?' As she did so, he stood up as well and came round the table to her. He took her hand and led her into the middle of the room. Then he stepped back, still holding her hand and breathed out. ‘You look absolutely stunning this evening. That dress, your amazing hair, the little sparkly earrings, the werewolf nails… and I'm so very sorry I missed you in all your glory with the heels. And I really missed dancing with you.'

Holly smiled at him. ‘And the favour, Jack?'

‘Would you like to dance with me please?'

‘But there isn't any music.'

His arms were already reaching for her. ‘Does it matter?'

‘Not to me.' She buried her face in his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling his whole body press against her. Her bruised face was still hurting, but she didn't mind. After a few moments, she lifted her head so their eyes met. ‘So, what's happening in the screenplay?'

He smiled. ‘I'm coming round to thinking the good guy maybe isn't as stupid as I thought.'

‘Why so?'

‘He's got this back story, you see. It's all to do with a girl he knew. It's been screwing him up for years.'

‘And now he's getting over it?' Her voice was little more than a whisper. Over his shoulder, she could see the big bunch of mistletoe hanging from the beam.

‘He's getting over it.' He dropped his mouth towards her and she closed her eyes as she felt his lips against hers.

‘You should have seen the dog in the snow. What a hoot! He went totally bonkers, running round like a jack rabbit. And then he couldn't find his leg to cock it…' Julia's voice tailed off as she took in the scene before her. ‘Oh, Lord, I'm so sorry. I do hope I'm not interrupting anything. Do you want me to go out and come back again a bit later?' Julia's voice was followed by a very cold wet nose pressing up against Holly's thigh. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes again and stepped back. Jack gave her a little smile and released his arms from around her neck and shoulders. He turned towards Julia who was looking unusually embarrassed.

‘It's fine, Julia. We were just dancing.' He was smiling.

Julia closed the front door and stared at him. ‘But there isn't any music.'

Jack glanced down at Holly and then smiled across at Julia. ‘Oh yes there is. If you listen hard enough, you'll hear it.' He cleared his throat. ‘And now, girls, I have some food to prepare. Strangely, I feel quite tired. I'll see you in the morning.'

And he was gone.

Day Ten

Sunday, Christmas Day

Holly's walk with the dog the next morning was magical. At some point in the night the snow had stopped and now, at half past eight, dawn had already broken, illuminating a clear, cloudless sky. The light reflected off the snow, making everything brighter than Holly had ever seen at that time of the morning and everywhere she looked the world was clean and white. Sharp edges and corners had disappeared, to be replaced by smooth curves and gentle slopes. The snow crunched underfoot as she and the dog walked up the track onto the edge of the moor. Nobody had been along here so far this morning and Holly's were the first footsteps to break the pristine surface of the snow, which was deep enough in places to reach her knees. As for the dog, from time to time he almost disappeared from sight, only his tail sticking up in the air, wagging furiously, indicating his presence. As Julia had described the night before, he was obviously mightily excited by the snow and from time to time would start running round and round in circles like a startled rabbit, making wild dog growling noises.

Holly and Stirling did a circuit around the side of the village and she took a number of photos of the scene from her high vantage point. Her breath formed clouds in the air as she climbed the steep track onto the open moorland and it felt really, really good to be alive. Nothing moved; she could see nobody and hear nothing – not even a tractor. Even the rooks were silent for once. She breathed deep and did her best to memorise the moment, to be saved and reproduced if she ever felt down at any time in the future. It didn't get any better than this.

As they came back down the track, between the stream and the church, she knew there was somewhere she wanted to go. She had to struggle to push the gate to the churchyard open against the weight of lying snow, but she managed to move it enough to be able to squeeze through. The footprints of the congregation at last night's service had disappeared without trace and she was the first to set foot in there that day, Christmas Day. She and Stirling walked up past the big yew tree to the line of recent graves. The wooden marker on the site of her father's ashes was almost completely concealed by snow, over a foot deep. She dropped down onto her knees in front of it and removed the snow with her hands until it was clear to see;
George William Brice, 1955-2015
.

‘Hello Dad.' She whispered the words while her mind ran over the things she had learnt in the past week about this complex man. In so many respects, he had made a success of his life, had tasted true love and had been much liked by many people. And yet, his life had been blighted by the decision he had taken twenty-six years ago to abandon his wife and child for the woman he loved. The repercussions of this decision had been as traumatic for him as they were for those closest to him, Holly included. She spared a thought for her mum, whose life had been ruined by this apparently kind, generous man, and who had fought tooth and nail to keep her one precious daughter out of his clutches. Now both of them were gone.

Holly glanced down at the dog, who had taken up a position sitting in the snow alongside her, his tongue hanging out of his mouth and his white breath forming clouds that wafted over the little wooden marker.

‘They're gone, Stirling.' She wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her gloved hand. ‘I loved them both, you know.' She dropped her eyes once more to the marker and resolved to get some fresh flowers as soon as the snow melted. ‘Happy Christmas, Dad.'

When Holly got back to the house, she got a surprise. A pleasant surprise. She found Jack squatting in front of the oven, playing with the controls. He looked across and smiled as she came in and closed the door behind her.

‘Hello, gorgeous. It's your own fault for giving me a key.' He stood up and turned towards her.

The dog charged over to greet him as Holly took off her jacket and hung it up, along with her hat. She turned back towards Jack and he whistled quietly. ‘Wow. That eye's a beaut.'

She pulled off her gloves and stepped out of her yellow boots. ‘Typical man. Just because I've got a bit of a blemish on my face, you fixate on that.' She padded over to him in her new woolly socks, reached up and encircled his neck with her arms and pulled his head down so she could plant a gentle kiss on his lips. He didn't recoil this time. She smiled, a warm feeling of wellbeing spreading throughout her body, wiping away her melancholy from the graveyard. He smiled back, reaching out with his fingers and running them softly across the swelling around her eye.

‘I feel very guilty.' His voice was low.

‘Why?'

‘My door, apart from anything else.'

‘And it was your path that broke my heel, too. I may sue.'

‘Sue and be damned. What's mine is yours.' He paused, his eyes only a few inches from hers, his arms around her, his whole body pressed against her. ‘Holly?'

‘Yes?' She was whispering, the feel of him against her causing the little hairs on the nape of her neck to tingle.

‘There's a big dog standing up on his hind legs with his cold, wet paws on my arse. Is that the sort of treatment I can come to expect in your home?'

She grinned, kissed him softly and stepped back. ‘Love me, love my dog.'

He grinned back at her. ‘It's a deal. Now, would madam prefer coffee or tea this morning?'

‘Madam will make some tea.' He released her and she went over to the sink. ‘You could give the dog a chunk of bread or a biscuit if you like. Then go and stick another log in the wood-burner. That should allow your arse time to dry out.'

She filled the kettle and switched it on while he sorted out food for the dog. She checked the time and affected a business-like air. ‘What's the plan, chef?'

‘I was just going to turn the oven on to warm it up. Then I'm going back to my house to insert the stuffing into the turkey and then I'll come back and stick the bird in the oven.'

‘Breakfast first?' Holly wondered whether she should call and ask Julia if she wanted tea, but she decided to keep Jack all to herself for a little while longer.

‘A cup of tea and a slice of bread would be great.' As she went over to the fridge and brought out the butter and jam, Jack removed a loaf of farmhouse bread from the big brown paper bag on the worktop and picked up the bread knife. ‘How many slices?'

‘Just one, please. And the dog gets the crust. That's the deal round here and he knows it.'

Jack waited until they were sipping their tea and munching their bread and jam before he launched into his story. Holly was sitting opposite him with the dog at her feet. From time to time she glanced across at Jack, but she did her best to keep her eyes on her breakfast so as to let him talk freely.

‘I owe you a story.' He paused, searching for the right words. ‘The first thing you need to know is that I've been totally hooked on you ever since that first glimpse of you in the Porsche.'

‘You managed to hide it pretty well.' She gave him an encouraging smile.

‘I had my reasons.' Another pause. ‘The story goes like this. Thirteen, fourteen years ago I got my big break – my enormous, life-changing fantastically lucky break. Like I told you, I went off to Hollywood and in the space of a few months, everything had changed. I was living the dream, being paid bucket loads of money and spending an awful lot of it on having a good time.' He caught her eye. ‘I already told you about the Shelby Mustang et al.'