God, no! It was the Christmas Tree Debut Day! No way was she getting sucked into that agonizing scenario. She couldn’t cope with the inevitable reminiscing, especially after what had happened on Kirstie’s Kitchen two days previously. Clearly, she still had deep-seated issues she needed to deal with, and as she didn’t have the time or the inclination to focus on those now, she would just have to employ her usual avoidance tactics.
She spun on her heels to creep stealthily back up the stairs but she hadn’t moved swiftly enough because she had only taken two steps before she came face to face with Josh.
‘Going somewhere, Harrison?’
His dark eyes bore into hers. She felt like he was scouring her soul and didn’t like what he saw there. His dark hair had been gelled into a quiff at his forehead and his jaw reflected the shadow of a beard. But the thing that caused her emotions to lurch back into the past was that familiar spicy cologne he favoured. No matter where she was in the world, whenever she caught a whiff of the same brand, a crystal-clear image of the man standing before her, his right eyebrow raised in question, swept into her mind and caused a sharp spasm of longing. That morning was no exception.
Before she could compose a believable excuse for not helping out with the tree, the front door crashed open and in walked Emma, her arm linked through the elbow of an attractive dark-haired girl carrying a huge white confectioner’s box.
‘Rachel!’
Kirstie rushed forward to hug her.
‘Hi, Kirstie. Heard you’d come back for Christmas. Sorry about what happened with the show on Monday. It must have been a complete nightmare for you.’ Rachel deposited the box of goodies on the bar and shoved her black-framed glasses up to the bridge of her nose. ‘Dad thought these might cheer you up. He knows they’re your absolute favourite.’
Kirstie peeked into the box, inhaled the satisfying aroma of sugary sweetness, and smiled.
‘Thanks, Rach,’ she mumbled, suddenly overcome with emotion at the kindness shown to her by everyone she had met since she got back to Cranbury. There had been no revelling in her embarrassment, no celebrating her stupidity, except maybe for the man watching her from the fireplace, a home-made paper chain hanging from his arm.
Kirstie lifted one of the most wonderful Red Velvet cupcakes, iced in thick, white chocolate buttercream with edible rose petals as decoration and a generous sprinkle of mini silver dragées, from the box. ‘Tell your dad I said thank you. He’s a real culinary genius.’
Rachel laughed, tucking an escaped tendril of hair behind her ear. ‘Well, I should hope so. He has been running the village bakery for the last thirty years. People travel for miles for his lavender macarons, not to mention his cream horns.’
‘I’ll go ask Leon for some plates. And maybe a cafetière of coffee. We deserve a coffee boost before Josh works us into the ground!’
A smile played on Emma’s lips as she disappeared into the brasserie kitchen next door to flirt with the chef who had adored her from a distance since he had arrived in Cranbury. It seemed to Kirstie that Emma was the only person not to have noticed. But then she did tend to inhabit a completely different universe than other mere mortals.
That morning Emma was showcasing a pair of earrings more akin to bangles in a gorgeous copper-coloured metal with tiny snowflakes dangling at jaw level, and a matching necklace with a row of larger snowflakes hanging from a curved wire. The effect against her plain white T-shirt was stunning, yet the colour clashed somewhat with the pink streak in her fringe.
‘How’s the fledgling wedding cake business?’ Kirstie asked Rachel, eager to put off the tree decoration ceremony for as long as possible.
‘It’s early days, but I’ve just secured an order from a couple who are getting married up at Craiglea Hall in January. We’ve agreed on the design and I’ve spent the last few weeks experimenting with sugar paste and food colouring. If this doesn’t work out, I think I could easily embark on a career as a watercolour artist!’
‘That cake is going to be amazing,’ interrupted Emma, arriving back with a pile of dessert plates and a wedge of pink-and-white dotted paper napkins. ‘It’s this cute conical design covered with delicate flowers and butterflies all made out of pastel-coloured sugar paste. It’s adorable. Show Kirstie the photo, Rach.’
Rachel dug into her denim duffel bag to locate her phone. Her hair, the colour of liquid coal, now completely tumbled from the clip that was supposed to hold it in an up-do and she flicked it irritably over her shoulder. Standing a head shorter than Kirstie and Emma, Rachel possessed a more curvaceous shape – along with the waist of a mannequin – but the force of her personality made up for her lack of stature. She scrolled through a long reel of photographs until she arrived at the wedding cake. Her cheeks glowed with pride as she held the phone out to Kirstie.
‘Wow, that’s gorgeous, and so different from anything out there.’
‘Dad will help me sculpt the actual cake, but every one of the flowers and butterflies are designed, modelled, and painted by Yours Truly.’
‘Hey, you three! This isn’t a reunion coffee morning, you know. We have work to do,’ called Josh, his head emerging from the depths of a huge brown cardboard box next to the fireplace where the tree would stand. A sprinkle of golden glitz had somehow ended up on the end of his nose as he held up an overdressed fairy that would adorn the top of the tree.
‘Ah, Josh! Didn’t see you there. Loving your choice of make-up this morning!’ Rachel giggled and stepped forward to rub the glitter away, and then gave him a welcoming hug whilst she was there. ‘If you want some styling advice, I think silver would suit you better with your hair colouring!’
‘Funny!’ Josh rolled his eyes and handed Rachel a bunch of Christmas tree lights to untangle. ‘Here, make yourself useful.’
Kirstie stared at their exchange, shocked at the effect their friendly banter was having on her. For the briefest of seconds, she wanted to push Rachel to one side and take her place, yearning to experience the feeling of being wrapped in Josh’s arms once again, protected from every grenade life tossed in her path. Thankfully, the moment passed and the more familiar feeling of awkwardness took its place. However, the episode made it clear that Josh Turner’s return to the village, and his position as manager of The Dancing Duck, had been greeted with affectionate delight by everyone – apart from her.
‘Kirstie? Earth to Kirstie? Can you start unpacking that box over there marked “Ornaments”? Just choose a few, though. I think less is definitely going to be more this year. Then can you grab a couple of strings of that thick gold tinsel for around the picture frames? When you’ve done that, I’ll take you up to Angus’s farm to pick out the tree.’
‘Oh, no, I’m sure you don’t need me …’
‘You’re coming. End of.’
Kirstie opened her mouth to argue, but Leon had arrived to give them a hand and she didn’t want to have a disagreement with Josh in front of an audience – especially one that had taken Josh back into their hearts so quickly after his lengthy absence. She slid her fingernail along the Sellotape on the cardboard box Josh had indicated, filled with trepidation at the imminent reacquaintance with her past.
Why did Josh have to be so irritating? But she knew why. She would have been exactly the same if the tables had been switched.
‘Thanks, everyone,’ said Josh, standing back to examine the results of their creativity an hour later. ‘The bar looks festive enough now and thankfully we didn’t have to resort to those hideous flashing Santa Clauses, nor the life-size plastic gnomes dressed as