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Authors: Valerie-Anne Baglietto

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BOOK: Once Upon A Winter
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‘Business looks like it’s booming.’

‘It is.’

‘Emma said you made all these in a week?’ Daniel whistled appreciatively. ‘You did amazingly, Nell. Where did you find the time?’

‘There’s a little
boxroom across the landing from my grandmother’s bedroom. I cleared out the junk and set up my sewing machine in there.’

‘So you could keep an eye on her?’

‘And be some company for her, too. I had both doors open so we could chat to each other. It took up most of the time while the kids were in school and after they were in bed at night, but I like sewing. It was therapeutic really.’

Daniel smiled, with a warmth that spread fuzzily through Nell’s stomach, as if he were transmitting it directly to her. ‘So, Mrs Jones, about our “appointment” . . . ?’

Nell’s jaw clenched. Daniel appeared to notice, and immediately backtracked. ‘I mean . . . Oh . . . Calling you
Mrs
Jones possibly wasn’t my best move . . .’

‘Can we talk about this later?’

Daniel coloured, and straightened his tie. ‘Sure. I’ll just -’

Joshua interrupted. ‘Hello, Mr Guthrie. Mum, can I have a pound, please? There’s no line over there at the moment. And could you look after the cakes for me? They’re getting crushed.’

‘Here, swap,’ said Nell, after rummaging through her purse again. She handed him a coin and put the cakes, in their paper bag, behind her on a chair with her coat. Joshua smiled and was swallowed up by the throng again, before she could ask what he needed the pound for.

‘Does it always get this busy?’ Nell asked Daniel, who was still standing by her stall, twiddling his tie.

He nodded. ‘Luckily we’re a small school.’

‘And that queue over there is just for Santa?’ It led all the way up the stage and vanished behind one of the velvet curtains.

‘Er’ - Daniel followed her gaze - ‘yes. The “grotto” is just backstage, in the dressing room, as I call it. We put a star on the door when we’ve got a production on. It’s a storage space the rest of the time.’ He looked back at her, a small dent in his brow. ‘Nell, listen  -’

But he was interrupted by a shrill cry.
It seemed to cut through the noise and hubbub in the hall as easily as it might have shattered complete silence. Startled, Nell and Daniel looked round, trying to determine the cause of the commotion.

Ivy was suddenly in view, struggling to get close. ‘Aunt Nell, it’s Joshua . . .’

‘What about him?’ Nell’s heart squeezed as she rounded the stall and pushed her way towards her niece. She felt a hand on her arm, and suddenly everyone seemed to part like the Red Sea.

Daniel was guiding her, steering her through the gap in the crowd until they got to Ivy.

‘Over here,’ said the girl, wide-eyed, beckoning them towards the fortune-telling tent, as luridly purple as Calista Molyneux’s dress.

A little clearing had formed, as if someone had just started dancing and the crowd had dropped back to watch. But no one was
performing, and the crowd just seemed confused rather than entertained.

Calista was standing at the opening to the tent, her hand raised and a long index finger extended in an almost accusing fashion. Her heavily
kohled eyes were huge in her ashen face. She was pointing at Joshua, who stood in the centre of the cleared area, with Freya a step behind.

‘He went in,’ explained Ivy. ‘Freya and I were just outside. He paid a pound to have his palm read . . .’

Nell hurried forward and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He was trembling, but only slightly.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked anxiously, smoothing the black hair from his pale brow. ‘What happened?’

‘She took my hand,’ he muttered. ‘It felt like one of those electric shocks, like when I get out of your car sometimes and touch it. But she started screaming like she was really hurt.’

More a startled cry than a scream, thought Nell, but didn’t correct her son. Instead, she turned in outrage towards Calista Molyneux. What was the bloody woman playing at? Was this some twisted part of her act?

But before Nell could speak, Daniel had stepped forward. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked calmly, the epitome of authority. ‘Mrs Molyneux, what happened?’


Him,
’ she said, her gaze never leaving Joshua. ‘He’s . . . he’s . . .’ Whatever she wanted to say wasn’t coming out.

‘He’s my son,’ Nell stated, in a furious hiss. ‘And you’re scaring him.’

‘Your son?’ Calista’s dark gaze flittered from Joshua to Nell. ‘Yes . . .’ She nodded shakily. ‘Yes, of course . . . I know who you are now . . .’

‘What’s wrong?’ Emma had finally thrust her way to the front, led by Rose.

‘I don’t know,’ snapped Nell, the heat in her face intolerable as everyone stared at her. She gestured towards Calista. ‘That woman’s just lost the plot. Em, I’m taking the kids home, can you -’

‘Don’t worry, you just go.’ Emma looked quizzically from Daniel to Calista. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I don’t know, either,’ said Daniel, his voice appeasing, like a professional negotiator. ‘But we’re going to find out. Shall we go to my office, Mrs Molyneux? I’ll make us some tea . . .’ He gave Nell one last apologetic glance, before steering the older woman away. The Red Sea parted for him again.

Nell put her free arm around her daughter, who seemed mute with shock; worrying in itself.

Simmering with anger and embarrassment, Nell scowled as she led her children away from the fortune-telling tent. The crowd fell back for her, too, staring, whispering and muttering. As if Calista Molyneux had accused the Jones family of nothing less inflammatory than witchcraft.

Ten

There was a loud knocking on the front door. Nell paused, frowning towards the lounge where the children seemed absorbed in a rather graphic TV programme about wildlife in the Serengeti. She crossed the hall, as a familiar, muffled voice drifted through the door.

‘Nell? It’s all right . . . It’s just me . . .’

She opened it hesitantly. ‘Hello, Daniel.’

‘Hi.’ His eyes were shadowed with concern. ‘Are you OK? I, um, brought your coat, and the cakes. You left them behind on the chair.’

Nell sighed. ‘I know . . . I was in too much of a hurry. I had my bag with my car keys on me, and I just picked up the kids’ coats as we went through the cloakroom.’

She stepped aside, aware she couldn’t be impolite indefinitely and leave him standing outside to freeze. ‘Come on in. Emma rang and said you were going to drop the things back.’

Daniel stepped on to the hall rug, and Nell shut the door behind him, sealing out the cold and darkness again.

‘Here, I’ll take that.’ As she relieved him of her coat and the small paper bag bulging with the cakes Joshua had bought, Nell noticed Daniel was also holding a bottle of wine.

‘Emma wanted to come here and check on you herself,’ he said. ‘But I offered, seeing as I was coming back to the Annexe anyway. I got out of the school as soon as I could. I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner.’

‘Yes, well, Emma’s been on the phone, so she k
nows I’m all right.’ Nell’s gaze flitted again to the wine.

Daniel held it out to her. ‘It’s a Chardonnay. And probably not a great one. But Emma said you liked white.’

‘I do, yes . . . Er -’

‘I thought you could do with a glass. In fact, I could do with one myself. And seeing as it’s a Friday . . .’ He looked at her almost hopefully, as if expecting an invitation of some kind.

Nell realised she was seriously out of practice at this. If she was brutally honest with herself, she had never been any good at the rituals that seemed to exist between men and women. It was called the dating game for a reason, Nell supposed, but in her late teens and early twenties she hadn’t found it sport. The prospect had never been easy or fun . . . until she had met Silas.

Her body seemed to reel
at the memory, like a physical blow. But her heart had been reduced to a pulp already. What damage would one more walloping do?

‘You’re
not
all right,’ said Daniel abruptly. ‘Come on.’ Before she could react, he had shrugged off his coat and hooked it over the end of the banisters. ‘Let’s look for a corkscrew.’

‘Hi, Mr Guthrie . . .’

Nell and Daniel turned to find Joshua and Freya crammed side by side in the doorway to the lounge. They had already been bathed and were bundled up in pyjamas and dressing gowns, like two scrubbed urchins.

Daniel smiled. ‘I was just bringing your mum’s things back.’

‘Yay! You brought the cakes!’ Joshua was jubilant. ‘Mum said Aunt Em said you were going to.’

‘Yes. Indeed. And, listen, you two,’ Daniel hurried on, ‘while we’re not in school, I really don’t mind if you want to call me Dan.’

‘Are you going to stay for dinner, Dan?’ asked Freya, the words flowing off her tongue. ‘We haven’t had it yet. It’s mac cheese. Mum always makes loads.’

‘Er . . .’ Daniel glanced at Nell.

‘Freya, I really don’t think Daniel would enjoy my macaroni cheese that much. I’m not a great cook.’

‘That’s OK,’ said Daniel swiftly. ‘I don’t mind. It’s that or a microwave fish pie. I’m not a good cook, either. I’d love to have dinner with you all.’

Damn, thought Nell. Not the answer she had been hoping for. Sharing a quick glass of Chardonnay with him had seemed daunting enough.

Yet, as Joshua and Freya watched the end of their programme, and the dish with the pasta hissed and bubbled under the grill, the wine Daniel had poured for her started to take effect. Rather fast, on an empty stomach.

It had been weeks since Nell had indulged in any alcohol. In sole charge of the children, she seldom drank wine, let alone anything more potent. She had forgotten the delicious warming sensation in her legs, and the relaxing giddiness it brought to her brain.


I’m so sorry about what happened earlier, with Calista Molyneux,’ said Daniel, broaching the subject after taking another gulp of wine himself. ‘How’s Joshua doing?’

Nell slid her hands into silicone oven gloves. ‘He’s OK, considering. More miffed about not seeing Santa, I think. It’s just sod’s law that woman decided to go mental at that precise moment. Did she say anything to you - when you took her back to your office?’

Daniel wet his lips. ‘Actually, she -’

‘Is dinner ready yet?’ Freya stood in the doorway, twirling a strand of her long hair around her finger. ‘Josh says he’s starving.’

‘Are you sure it’s just Joshua?’ Nell took the hot dish out of the oven.

Freya shrugged. ‘I’m a bit hungry, too.’

‘OK, sweetheart. Lay the table then, please.’

‘We’ll talk about this later,’ murmured Daniel tactfully, hovering over Nell as she dished out four portions of macaroni cheese into blue
Denby bowls. ‘I’m in no hurry to go anywhere.’

As everyone tucked in,
Nell vowed to pace herself with the wine. Her legs felt heavy now, as if the soles of her slippers had been crafted from lead.

‘Gwendolyn doesn’t eat with you then?’ Daniel asked, lifting his gaze briefly to the ceiling to indicate the elderly lady upstairs.

‘Nana Gwen gets tired easily, and she doesn’t come downstairs very often,’ said Freya, pouring out a glass of water for herself and her brother. ‘And she doesn’t like the idea of stair lifts.’

‘She didn’t want to be on the ground floor,’ Nell explained. ‘The views are beautiful from the top floor, so I don’t blame her. Anyway, she prefers a hot lunch and then a light dinner. I’d just taken up some sandwiches before you arrived. She says she can’t sleep at night on a full stomach.’

‘Makes sense.’ Daniel nodded, and gestured to the pasta with his fork. ‘This is delicious, by the way.’

‘Thanks,’ Nell mumbled, and let her hair fan forwards, to screen her flushed cheeks.

Joshua wolfed it all down, as usual. Always amazing, considering how skinny he was. He thanked her - also as usual - and then asked if he could get down from the table. ‘I’ll check on Nana Gwen, see if she wants a cake,’ he said, sounding as eager about running up to the third floor as he always did.

‘Can I watch a bit more TV?’ said Freya. ‘And eat my cake in the lounge?’

‘You can watch TV for a little while,’ said Nell, trying to sound firm but fair, as she popped a cupcake into a brightly coloured plastic bowl. ‘As it’s a Friday.’

The children scuttled off, and it struck Nell that she was alone with Daniel again. She took another sip of wine, for courage.

He was leaning back in his chair, his tie now loosened around his neck and his top shirt button undone. Nell had to concede that the crumpled look suited him.

‘Joshua’s settled in well,’ he said, at last. ‘I’m really pleased with the way everyone’s taken to him at school. Are you happy about it, Nell? Is it better than it was in London? I know
it’s not been long, but I was foreseeing a far worse case scenario, I have to admit.’

‘So was I.’

‘He’s a very . . .
happy
child - isn’t he? Incredibly . . . kind.’

‘He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body,’ said Nell, twirling the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. ‘He really doesn’t. He never has. Joshua would never kno
wingly hurt anybody.’

‘You know’ - Daniel leaned towards her spiritedly - ‘I think young kids are great, and I’m the first in line to be their advocate, but I’ve always found there’s a tiny sadistic streak in their natures, especially among siblings. I think it’s a survival tactic, embedded in all of us. As fundamental as breathing. Then, as we get older, we learn to share and co-exist, and hopefully that little sadistic fragment gets absorbed by something bigger, more magnanimous.’

Nell stared across the table at him. ‘That’s very . . . profound,’ she muttered.

He
grunted. ‘The wine talking. Anyway, what I’m getting at is that Joshua doesn’t seem to have that streak in him. And from what you’re saying, he never has.’

‘No.’ This was true, however far back Nell recalled. ‘Freya can be a pain sometimes,’ she said quietly, ‘but when push comes to shove, she looks out for her brother. She’s a good girl, too, at heart. She has her moods, though. Whereas Josh doesn’t. I just wish . . .’

‘What?’ Daniel was regarding her intently.


Everything was going so well.’ Nell sighed. ‘And then all that business today at the fayre . . . Just our bad luck that that woman went loopy when she did.’

‘Actually,’ said Daniel, ‘I don’t think it was bad luck. I mean, it
was
, from your point of view. But, from what she was saying, Calista reacted to Joshua specifically. It wasn’t a random choice.’

‘What are you on about?’

‘She had a cup of tea with me,’ said Daniel, sounding far more cautious now. ‘And she calmed down very quickly. She was really apologetic. Said she shouldn’t have reacted the way she did and made such a scene.’

‘Too right!’ Nell scowled. ‘I know we’re dysfunctional, as families go, but that was pushing it too far. Everyone was gawping at us.’

‘You’re not dysfunctional,’ Daniel quickly assured her, pressing his fingers over hers on the table. ‘You’re doing a great job, Nell. And Calista said she didn’t know who Joshua was when he walked into that tent. She simply took his hand, apparently, to read his palm -’

‘Has that woman even been CRB-checked?’ Nell slid her own hand from under
Daniel’s warm, masculine one, and stuck it in her lap, where he couldn’t reach it. ‘Calista Molyneux shouldn’t be associating with children like that if she hasn’t,’ she added vehemently.

‘Yes, she has. Calista’s harmless. Honestly.’

‘That’s a matter of opinion.’

‘Nell, she’d like to talk to you herself.’ Daniel looked deadly serious. ‘And she wants to apologise and explain, because she couldn’t to me. She said it was “knotty”, and I wouldn’t understand.’

‘Unless it’s a public apology, it’s useless. The rest of that “not understanding” stuff is rubbish, too. And what on earth does she mean by “knotty”?’

‘If you gave her the chance, I’m sure it
would
be a public apology.’

‘It was all just a publicity stunt.’ Nell grasped at the safest and most logical conclusion. ‘Emma said it herself - people think Calista’s a joke with all this fortune-telling business. She was trying to come across as enigmatic and legitimate by putting on that “performance” today. I’m only angry it was at my family’s expense.’

But Daniel was shaking his head. ‘It wasn’t an advertising stunt. Calista doesn’t do any of this for money. She doesn’t need it. Her husband left her pretty well off when he died, so I heard, and she was far from a pauper before that. Haven’t you seen the size of her house? All the psychic stuff isn’t a business, it’s only ever for charity. Besides, the school came off best today, not her, because after you left in such a hurry those cushion covers flew off that table. I heard people were scrapping over them as if it were the January sales.’

‘You’re kidding me!’

But Daniel was emphatic. ‘No. Didn’t Emma tell you? She should have. It was hilarious, apparently.’

‘Yeah, ha, ha.’ Nell frowned. ‘Hilarious. The other kids at school are still going to be teasing Joshua about what happened, though. That part isn’t so amusing.’

‘Will they? And if they do, will Joshua take it in his stride? I think he will, because he hardly seems to be dwelling on it now.’

‘You think I’m over-sensitive, don’t you?’ Nell bridled. ‘Over-protective?’

‘No. No, I don’t.’ Daniel sighed, and shook his head. ‘To me, you’re just a mother who thinks the world is against her and her children. But it isn’t. The world needs someone like Joshua. Someone who isn’t jaded and cynical and bitter, and out for himself all the time. And the world knows it, deep down. It knows what it needs and it embraces it.’

Nell stared at the man across the table from her. So poetic and fervent and . . .  wrong. He had to be. She had always felt the world wouldn’t know what it needed if it came up and
boffed it on the nose.

Here in Harreloe, Nell had felt more cosseted from all the malice and pain that was out there beyond those hills. What had happened today had destroyed the illusion of safety. There was nowhere to flee, not even here in this sheltered green valley. And the knowledge of that, combined with the maudlin after-effect of the wine, brought a cactus-like lump to her throat.

‘Mum!’ Joshua ran into the kitchen. ‘Nana Gwen does want one of Aunt Em’s butterfly cakes, so I’m taking it up for her.’

The boy placed one in a bowl, carefully, so that the “wings” weren’t damaged, then turned to Daniel. ‘I only bought four,’ he said, ‘because I didn’t know you’d be here for
dinner. So you can have mine.’

‘Oh,’ said Daniel, sitting back in the chair again, ‘no, Joshua, that’s very generous of you, but I’d really rather you had it.’

BOOK: Once Upon A Winter
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