Winter Wishes at Swallowtail Bay

Tom always worried that with them being engaged, Kieran might accidentally tell Cat that Tom had been in love with Nell for years. The four of them had been friends since they all met at university in the nearby city of Halebury and Kieran had guessed his secret quite early on. So far, he’d managed to keep his gob shut, but Tom did worry that might change with Kieran and Cat now getting married. Married couples shouldn’t have secrets as far as Tom was concerned and he felt a twinge of guilt that he was placing Kieran in an awkward position. His fear of rejection and how uncomfortable things would be if Nell found out were forcing him to keep Kieran quiet.

‘Don’t worry, I haven’t. Your secret’s safe. The whole world doesn’t know, only me. You don’t have to tell the whole world though, you know. You could start with just telling Nell. It might be …’ He shrugged. ‘Helpful. That’s why I engineered this date for you. Did you like the way I did it? All subtle, like.’

‘I’ll tell her when the time’s right,’ Tom replied even though he’d said it a million times to both Kieran and himself. ‘It just never has been so far. Either I’ve been in a relationship, or she has. And I’m still not sure she could feel that way about me.’

The fact was, whenever Tom was with Nell he felt totally complete. That’s why his previous relationships had failed. He’d go into each new one feeling like they could be The One, giving all he had, but after a while a feeling of emptiness, or something being not quite right crept in. Whatever happened, and no matter how long it took, his heart inevitably came back to yearning for Nell. For her funny, in-her-own-world-half-the-time brain, a smile that lit up his life and a laugh he could listen to from now until the end of time.

The closest he’d come to getting away from his feelings for Nell was his last girlfriend, Naomi. They’d been together for three years, breaking up a couple of years ago. She’d said that it was because they wanted different things, but Tom knew it was because she was waiting for a ring and he could never quite bring himself to ask her. Every time he passed a jeweller, he’d look in the window, but he’d only ever see himself proposing to Nell. Despite serious attempts, the picture had never included anybody else. There was no one else like her. She’d always been just a little bit different – a woman of contradictions, both dreamy and focused – a little more caring, and she had her own style. That was why she and Cat had bonded so well. Both of them were different to all the other girls at university.

‘Anyway,’ he warned Kieran, knowing thoughts of Nell had taken over again, ‘stop doing weird things with your eyebrows in front of my staff. I know it’s the only hair you have left on your face, but still.’

‘Okay. Fair enough.’ Kieran watched Tom bustling around behind the counter, beginning to cash up. ‘You’re finishing early, aren’t you?’

‘Yeah, I want to swing by the care home and see Grandad. I said I’d take him a bunch of flowers for Enid.’

‘He’s a devil, your old grandad. Is she a looker?’

‘Enid?’ Tom laughed. ‘She’s 89! And Grandad’s blind as a bat anyway. She could look like Godzilla for all he knew. Actually, she’s a very lovely old lady and she really makes him laugh. There’s that saying, isn’t there? Love is blind? It’s the only reason Cat’s agreed to marry you.’

‘Oy!’ Kieran clapped his hands together. ‘Right, if you’re not coming to the pub, I’ll be off then. Cat’s got a planning meeting with Nell and her mum right about now, so I’ll be hearing all about it once she’s home.’

‘You love it really.’

‘Yeah. I do. Whatever makes her happy.’

With Kieran gone, Tom cashed up the till and closed the shop, locking the door firmly behind him. After waiting for the alarm to beep and show it was set, he turned and took a moment so his eyes could adjust to the darkness. It seemed to be taking longer and longer to get used to the dim evening light and a horrible niggling worry was growing inside his mind. The cold wind whipped around him, freezing his cheeks and running down his spine. Protecting the bunch of flowers Grandad had asked for, Tom pulled his coat tighter across his chest, hopping about on the spot as eventually everything came back into focus and he was able to make his way to the van.

The florist’s stood bang in the middle of Swallowtail Bay high street, next to a café and an artisan cheesemaker, and there was absolutely no parking nearby. He strolled down the cobbled streets enjoying the bright golden lights spilling from the shop windows. The town had quietened as the trading day drew to a close, and because it was winter.

Tourists flocked to the place in the summer bringing life and energy to the town. The high street would be full of visitors in backpacks, eating ice creams – but in winter, only the locals shopped, and a quietness settled on the high street from about mid-afternoon onwards.

Tom’s fingers were rapidly turning pink from the cold and he hurried on. Through the windows, fellow shopkeepers tidied and cleaned, readying for the next day. A few had already installed Christmas window displays and tinsel glittered while paper stars and giant snowflakes twirled in mid-air. Some had strung fairy lights around the edges, framing their windows in sparkling lights, while others had strings of them hanging down from the ceiling like icicles. Tom thought about his again. Once Remembrance Day was over, he’d start on one too. His grandad had lived through the Second World War and had been evacuated down to Swallowtail Bay, so Tom always made sure his shop had a full poppy display in honour of those who’d served, but he couldn’t wait to change his and any time inspiration struck he made a note on a piece of paper. Maybe tomorrow he’d sketch it out.

Overhead the council and business forum had already begun preparations for the town’s displays, and holders for small Christmas trees had been attached to some of the buildings. They were new for this year and in between the strings of giant lights that criss-crossed between the buildings it would look beautiful. With a nose red from cold, Tom was at his van and happy to be in the warm, he sped to the nursing home.

After he’d parked up again, he stepped out into the night and his breath fogged on the air. The stars were spectacularly clear tonight, bright and shining overhead, and the lack of cloud meant a frosty morning tomorrow. Cherry Wood Nursing Home was a large white building in pretty landscaped gardens. A couple of benches positioned out front next to large bushes invited people to sit and enjoy a moment before they entered. From the large windows he could see the residents moving back and forth, staff helping with walking frames, and people sharing jokes. Grabbing the bunch of creamy white ranunculuses tied with a big purple ribbon from the passenger seat, he made his way up the gentle slope of the entrance ramp.

The wave of heat that hit him as he walked through the door nearly knocked him over. In fact, all five of his senses were assaulted. As well as being hot, the home had the brightest lights he’d ever seen and smelled heavily of talcum powder mixed with lavender. The television was on so loud it was deafening and with his eyes being a bit weird at the moment, the last thing he needed was a ringing in his ears too.

Before Grandad Nigel had come here, they’d looked at other care homes that were unbelievably quiet, more like libraries than places to live, but Cherry Wood was different. Noise, chatter, discussion and, most of all, laughter was actively encouraged. At this time of night, most of the residents were gathered in the large open-plan TV room watching the six o’clock news. Tom needed to hurry if he wanted to get changed before meeting Nell for dinner. After a quick glance at the numerous chairs all filled with older people, some more lively than others, he spied Grandad Nigel, with a blanket over his knees, next to Enid.

Enid, though aged, didn’t look like Godzilla. She was small and a little hunched in her chair with a head of fine, wispy white hair, but there was a vibrancy and life to her voice and a cheeky laugh that carried across the room. Tom could see exactly why Grandad Nigel liked to sit with her. Hiding the flowers behind his back, Tom made his way over.

‘Hello, Tom, love,’ said Enid, as her eyes turned up to meet his.

With a flourish, he pulled the small bouquet from behind his back. ‘I bought you some flowers, Enid, I hope you like them.’

‘Cheeky bugger,’ shouted Nigel, not quite realising how close Tom was. Only a short time ago he’d gone completely blind, but his eyesight had been failing for years. A smattering of wiry grey hair stubbled his chin and Tom made a mental note to get him a new electric razor for Christmas. His old one wasn’t picking up everything and as it was the safest thing for him to use now, he needed a decent one. His grandad had always been proud of his appearance – of his tall, lithe frame that Tom himself had inherited – and Tom wanted him to continue feeling that way. ‘Don’t you listen to him, Enid. They’re from me actually. Paid for with my own money. I told him to get them for you as he’s a florist. After all, you don’t keep a dog and bark yourself.’

Tom bent down and squeezed his grandad’s shoulder. ‘All right, old man, I’m only teasing. I think Enid knew they were from you really.’

Enid gave Nigel a loving smile and Tom wished with all his heart his grandad could see it. Her voice was loud and cheeky and didn’t look like it belonged to her slim figure. ‘I knew they were from you, you silly bugger.’

‘If Tom was going to deliver flowers to anyone,’ Nigel continued, ‘it should be that lovely girl, Nell, he’s friends with. He’s like a lovesick pup when she’s around but he won’t do it. I don’t know why. I’d be perfectly happy to have her as a granddaughter-in-law.’

‘Only because she brings you treats,’ Tom countered. ‘And if you start this again, Grandad, I’m going, and I won’t give you the massive bar of Dairy Milk I snuck in for you.’

Nigel’s eyebrows raised quizzically. ‘Hand it over, boy, before they see you.’ Tom did as he was told and watched Nigel’s tired old hands, shaking with age and exertion, unwrap it and break some off for Enid and then himself. It wasn’t that he wasn’t allowed chocolate. It was that the piggy old boy didn’t want to share any with the other residents. Other than Enid, that was. ‘Oh, lovely,’ Nigel said, savouring the taste. The smell made Tom’s own tummy rumble.

‘Is there anything you need for tomorrow, Grandad? If not, I’ll be off.’

‘Got plans, have you?’

‘Yes,’ Tom said, repressing a sigh. He’d told his grandad several times already that he was having dinner with Nell tonight, but his memory wasn’t what it used to be, and he didn’t need teasing all over again.

‘Get on with you then. And no, I don’t need anything else, thank you, boy.’

Grandad had always called him boy which was quite funny really considering he was now a grown man of 35. Tom gave Nigel’s shoulder another squeeze, bid Enid good night and made for the door. On his way, Tracey, the manager of the care home caught his attention with a wave.

‘Hi Tom.’ Tracey’s permed curls bobbed about as she cheerfully manoeuvred her plump frame nearer to him. ‘Are you still okay to help put up the Christmas decorations next week?’

‘Yes, that’s fine.’ He was quite looking forward to it. The residents of the home would enjoy it and it would be nice to spend a whole Sunday with Grandad.

‘We haven’t got much so it shouldn’t take long. And there’s no budget to buy new ones for this year but we’ll just have to manage. The residents do love a bit of festive fun.’

Tom glanced around at the plain cream walls of the care home. The boring magnolia paintwork was broken here and there with some drab, unspectacular paintings, but apart from that there really wasn’t much life to the decor. Some Christmas decorations and greenery would really brighten the place up. ‘We’ll make the place look great; don’t you worry. See you next week.’

As soon as Tom began the walk down the entrance ramp, he made an involuntary grab for the handrail. Once again, his eyes needed time to adjust to the light. His body wanted to move normally but the message sent from his eyes to his brain was that he wasn’t quite ready to keep going. By the time he got to the van and had the headlights on, he’d reassured himself he was okay to drive, but maybe he’d walk to the Langdon Mansion Hotel anyway. He was probably just overtired and had strained his eyes at work. Yes, that’s definitely what it was. It couldn’t be anything else.

Chapter 4

‘Those pants are literally the ugliest pair of undercrackers I have ever seen.’ Nell stretched out the pair of bright white sculpting knickers in wonder. She could feel the tension in her biceps as she pulled the sides apart to the width of a human body. How anyone could fit themselves into these elasticated torture devices was beyond her, and her arms were on the verge of giving way with the effort. ‘Proper Bridget Jones style. They look so painful, and considering you’re shoving your giant hooves into three-inch diamante-encrusted heels, that’s saying something.’

Cat giggled and sipped a gin and tonic, examining her feet which were undeniably wide for such a petite frame. ‘Mum said I have to wear shapewear knickers on the day. They squeeze all the fat from my bra-line down into my ankles. Between those and the boned corset I’m going to need an external lung. Do you think anyone would notice if I hid an oxygen cylinder under my wedding dress?’

It was entirely possible Cat would strap the one she carried in her gigantic midwifery kit to her thigh. She did that sort of thing. Or at least, used to when they were at university together. But back then it had been more moving temporary traffic lights and stealing cones than adhering things to her person.

Nell looked over the top of the thick waistband. ‘Seriously though, they don’t look very romantic or remotely comfortable. How do you even get them on and off? You’ll be sweating like a pig from the effort.’

Cat sighed and watched the ice cubes bob in her drink. ‘I’m not allowed to be comfortable, apparently. It’s my wedding day. I have to look nice. Comfort doesn’t come into it.’

‘Is that what you want?’ Nell asked gently. Cat shrugged in response.

When she didn’t answer, Nell was dragged into her imagination, running through a scene where she dressed on the morning of her own wedding. In front of an antique full-length mirror that she didn’t currently have, in a giant house she didn’t yet own, she slipped an enormous but beautiful and comfortable wedding dress over flattering silky underwear. Once dressed, she held out her hand like a princess in a Disney movie and admired the ring on her finger. Nothing flash, nothing fancy. Just a small, shining diamond set on a simple gold band. Perfect.

She longed to fall as madly in love as Cat. She didn’t entirely mind being single, but it would be nice to meet that person destined for her sooner rather than later. All her previous relationships had been fairly short-term because once the mad, initial romance wore off, they’d fizzled out, unable to live up to her expectations. One day though, ‘The One’ would walk into her life.

A waving hand in her peripheral vision brought Nell out of her dream. Thankfully, she’d had a last-minute booking and had one lovely old couple staying in the hotel. ‘Evening, Mrs Limstock,’ Nell called. ‘Is there anything I can get you?’

‘No, we’re fine, thank you, Nell. Having a lovely time.’

‘I’m so pleased to hear it. But do let me know if you’d like anything at all. I can make you another drink or find you some nibbles if you’re hungry.’

‘No, no. Honestly dear, we’re fine.’

Relaxing back into her chair, Nell picked up a cup of tea and took a sip. She was meeting Tom at the Langdon Mansion Hotel as soon as this planning meeting was done and would have a drink there. The lovely Zoe was covering reception for the night. ‘What does Kieran say?’ Though he was incredibly happy at the prospect of gorgeous, outrageous Cat becoming his wife, surely even he couldn’t stand idle while Cat’s mum railroaded her into having the wedding of her dreams, rather than Cat’s.

Cat ran a hand through her long, pink hair. ‘I haven’t actually told him about it.’

‘Why not?’

‘I just didn’t see the point. He’s busy with work and when we talk about wedding stuff, I want it to be fun and nice. If I told him about Mum, he’d get cross, and I don’t see the point in starting World War Three before we’ve actually made it down the aisle.’

This was exactly what Nell had expected. She didn’t have time to disagree with her though, as the woman herself walked in. Brenda’s coat rested over her left arm while in her right hand she waved a plastic folder – the dreaded wedding file. From the corner of Nell’s eye, she caught Cat leaning forward.

‘Before she can hear us, I’ve booked the caterer for tomorrow. Mum’s got a thing so we can meet him on our own.’

Nell watched her normally crazy, vibrant friend shrink back into her chair. ‘Hi, Brenda,’ Nell said, standing for the obligatory air kiss.

‘Hello, darling.’ She pretended to kiss Nell’s cheeks then turned her attention on Cat. ‘Come on sweetheart, stand up and give me a kiss.’ Reluctantly putting her gin glass down, Cat stood and did as she was told before flopping back down into the chair. ‘So, where are we with the wedding plans? I’ve brought my file. Where’s yours?’

Cat, who had by now picked up her glass again, took a big slurp and pointed at Nell: her walking, talking wedding file. Nell grinned while Brenda pinned her with a death stare. Unsure what else to do, she wiggled her fingers in a wave. It didn’t go down well.

‘Huh.’ Brenda adjusted her shirt. ‘It’s a good job I’m here, isn’t it? How you think this wedding is going to organise itself I’ve no idea. Especially as you’ve set such an impossibly short timescale.’ Cat glanced at Nell in defeat. ‘I hope you’re going to make this place extra Christmassy, Nell. I know you love Christmas, but we want something really classy, don’t we, Catherine?’

‘Yes,’ Nell began. ‘Cat and I talked about it the other day and I’ve been making a list of supp—’

Brenda thrust out a hand to silence her and nearly hit Nell in the nose. ‘I’ve timetabled that for later. Right now, I wanted to talk to you about the flowers, darling.’

Though thankful that Brenda had removed her hand (it smelled of floral hand cream), Nell shifted warily. Tom doing the flowers was a given. It always had been. And it was what Cat wanted. She’d said she didn’t want anyone else touching her wedding bouquet and had been clear on that from the start, but Brenda had reservations. Both Nell and Cat had reassured her time and again that Tom, who really had a gift, was the man for the job. Casting a glance at Cat, Nell knew that as the fight seemed to have gone out of her at present, it fell to her to fight Tom’s corner.

‘Are you absolutely sure you want Tom to do the flowers?’ Brenda began without even opening the folder. ‘I know he’s your friend but—’ Cat opened her mouth and Brenda threw out a finger to silence her protests ‘—a male florist? Is he really going to be any good? Generally, men know nothing about flowers or how to arrange them. The last time I asked your dad to put some flowers in a vase it was a disaster. He didn’t even—’

To Nell’s amazement Cat interrupted. ‘Tom’s amazing, Mum. You loved your birthday flowers, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘They were from Tom’s.’ Brenda’s expression perfectly mirrored that of someone who’d misjudged a fart. ‘He’s great and I’m sticking with him. He knows what I want and, more importantly, he knows what I hate. It’s fine.’

Seeing the matter was closed, Brenda flicked open the folder and began thumbing through pages, letting out a sigh that said, ‘Fine, but if it all goes wrong, I told you so’. Nell and Cat both enjoyed the small victory.

A furry grey face and a pair of bright cat’s eyes appeared at the window and Nell went to open it and let the poor creature in. A rush of cold air flew into the room. It was usually a little colder and windier down on the seafront and tonight was no different. The wind had been growing to almost gale force all day and whipped the fallen gold and red leaves around the streets and the pale grey sea into a frenzy.

‘Nell,’ Brenda moaned. ‘Do close that window, please? It’s absolutely freezing.’

‘I’m just letting the cat in.’

‘What cat? You haven’t got a cat now?’

The small, skinny, grey furball hopped in through the gap and jumped onto the floor with an elegant leap. ‘No, I haven’t. I don’t know who this boy belongs to. He started coming in about a week ago and I’ve been all around the block, but no one knows who he is. I think he’s a stray.’

‘Well,’ Brenda bristled, ‘you should take him to the vet or the RSPCA or something. He might be diseased.’

‘He looks perfectly healthy to me,’ said Cat, brightening a little as she patted her lap and the cat leaped up and made himself comfortable. ‘He doesn’t have a collar or anything, does he? And he is quite skinny, poor thing. What have you been calling him?’

‘Mr Scrooge,’ Nell answered with a grin.

For the first time since her mum’s arrival, Cat smiled. ‘Why Mr Scrooge?’

‘Because its Christmas time soon and apart from me, and now you, he hates absolutely everyone. Even Tom. He’s a right old grump and as I’m getting into the Christmas spirit early, I thought it suited him. I don’t know what he’ll be like when I put the tree up.’

‘You’re not going to keep him?’ asked Brenda, horrified.

Nell quite liked having Mr Scrooge around. She had been keeping an eye out for any lost cat signs, but nothing had been put out. She certainly wasn’t going to send him back out into the cold until she was sure he had a home to go to. Nell had already conjured up several scenarios where the cat’s owner – tall, dark and handsome – followed him into the hotel and when he and Nell locked eyes, they instantly fell in love … but so far, it hadn’t happened.

‘Nell?’ Brenda barked as she once again fell into a dream. ‘Are you going to keep it?’

‘I don’t know yet, I might do. I’ll put some posters up and see if anyone claims him. If they don’t, why shouldn’t I?’

Brenda shook her head, her perfectly curled hair holding resolutely firm. ‘What about your guests?’

‘Apart from Mr and Mrs Limstock, I haven’t got any, so it doesn’t really matter right now.’

Cat was the first to reassure her. ‘Things will pick up soon, Nell. Have you upped your advertising like we discussed?’

‘Yeah, as much as I can afford to.’ Nell plonked down into the armchair again. ‘I’ve got a few regulars that have booked again off the back of an offer I emailed out, but no new people. I’ve got a meeting with a firm tomorrow to see if I want a proper marketing plan made up. The thing is, I know what the problem is. It’s the Langdon Mansion.’

Brenda’s head popped up from the file. ‘Oh, it’s lovely there. Very, very expensive. I’ve been told the accommodation and food are absolutely exquisite. And the service—’

‘Mum!’ Cat shouted. ‘You’re supposed to be supporting my friend.’

Brenda adjusted her shirt again. ‘I’m sure this wedding fair will be absolutely marvellous, Nell, if you’ve organised it properly.’

Only Cat saw the almost imperceptible raise of Nell’s eyebrow. ‘I’m doing my best, Brenda. I’ve got all the stall holders sorted, I’ll mention it at the business forum soon and I’ve been marketing it online and all around the local area. Hopefully, people will come.’

‘I’m sure I’ll be able to swing by,’ said Brenda. ‘I might even be able to get some of my friends to come.’

Nell knew that the reason she might attend was more to make the place a socially acceptable choice to all her well-to-do friends who thought of Holly Lodge as a poor substitute for the Langdon Mansion. A flash of annoyance stiffened her spine but with tension radiating off Cat, Nell kept her mouth shut. She took a chocolate biscuit from the plate she’d laid out for them and Cat did the same.