A December to Remember

It was all of those things piling on and turning the screws like she was a flower in a press. And she had lost Joe. Just as she had known she would. All men leave in the end.

Amid it all, she wondered where Joe was now. What was he doing? Was he drowning his sorrows in the pub or had he gone for one of his runs? Was he feeling like she was? God, she hoped so. She didn’t know what to think. Could there have been an explanation like he had intimated? Should she have given him a chance, heard him out?

She turned over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. What did it matter? In the end, everything had played out just as she’d known it would. She’d made her heart vulnerable, and he’d stamped on it.





45





Just after half past eight on Friday morning, the door to North Novelties & Curios crashed open, slamming against the wall and causing multiple wind chimes to jangle.

“Blimey, Patrick!” Star exclaimed. “What did that door ever do to you?”

Betty was bent over Simone’s massive to-do list for the evening’s events, making appreciative noises at the spreadsheet. She’d left Doreen in charge of the café while she came over to check the running order for the day. The folk band had arrived in the early hours in two camper vans, had taken up residence in Betty’s café as soon as it opened, and looked set to stay for the foreseeable future. There was a general feeling of excitement and expectation in the village, despite the early hour.

“Is your mum okay? Something was off with her last night and she’s not returning our calls. Is she coming over?”

“I was just about to go over and check on her,” added Simone.

“I’ve messed up,” said Patrick. His eyes were wide. “I’ve really messed up. I don’t know what to do. You’ve got to help me.”

Simone and Evette immediately took control of the situation.

“Okay, first things first. Is anybody hurt?” asked Evette.

“Define ‘hurt.’?”

“Do we need the emergency services?” Simone snapped. “Is your mum in mortal danger?”

“No.”

“That’s a start, then. Come and sit down,” Star soothed, taking his arm and leading him to the chair that Evette had pulled out for him. Patrick allowed himself to be pushed down into it. “Now, what’s the problem?”

“It’s Joe. Well, it’s Mum but it’s Joe. I got it all wrong and I’ve messed it up royally and now Ma’s heartbroken. She’s trying to pretend she’s okay, but I know she isn’t and it’s all my fault.”

Evette had her head cocked to one side and was nodding calmly, a look of concern and non-judgment on her face; Star surmised this was her professional expression and she was grateful for it.

“Okay, Patrick.” Evette’s voice was smooth like the sea on a calm day. “There’s a lot to unpack here, so let’s take one thing at a time and then we can see how best to help you. Why don’t you start by telling us what happened with Joe?”

Patrick nodded, clearly soothed by Evette’s calm demeanor. He took a deep breath and began.

“You know we’re going to lose the house, right?”

“Did your mum tell you that?” asked Star.

“No.” Patrick looked down at his hands. He was picking at his nails, which were already bitten down to the quick. “I found the eviction letters. I was angry and confronted Mum about it.”

Star whistled out a breath at the ceiling. “Your mum was trying to protect you and Verity; you do understand that, don’t you?” She had a horrible feeling that Patrick would not have taken Maggie’s deception in the way it was intended.

He squirmed on the chair. “I do. Now. I didn’t at first. I don’t need to be treated like a kid.”

“Perhaps you should stop behaving like one, then,” said Simone.

Patrick looked up at his aunts, and for a moment Star wondered if he might take offense, but he only nodded and went back to his stubby fingernails.

“That’s pretty much what Ma said too,” he said.

“What happened when you confronted your mum about the letters?” Evette asked, her voice soft.

Patrick avoided eye contact. “I didn’t handle it as well as I could,” he replied.

“That would explain why Maggie was a no-show last night,” said Simone, looking at Star.

“We argued and I blurted out what I’d found out about Joe.”

“Wait, what you’d found out about Joe?” Simone asked, puzzled.

Patrick sighed. “Our landlord is Joe’s uncle. Joe works for him. Or he did until a few months ago.”

“What does that mean?” asked Star.

“I thought he was being paid to infiltrate the household, like an undercover operative or something.”

“Have you been watching James Bond?” asked Star. She was having trouble picturing Joe as a spy. “And you found all this out how?”

“There’s a photo of him on the landlord’s website. ‘Our family helping your family to find your perfect home,’ or some such bollocks.”

“Shit!” said Simone.

“My intuition knew something was wrong,” Star said.

“So Joe was a spy?” asked Duncan.

“No, but I didn’t know that then.”

“What then?” asked Simone.

“I told her Joe was using her to get her out of the building. We had a row. A big one. Joe was there. Then he and Mum had a row.”

“Patrick!” Star exclaimed. His head snapped up, his eyes pleading. Evette held up her hand for quiet.

Betty stepped forward. “What did you say? What’s that about an eviction notice?”

Simone turned with what was clearly going to be a “Not now, Betty” sentence, but Star stopped her, with a gentle hand on her arm.

“Maggie’s being evicted. She’s got until January thirty-first to vacate the building and then it’s being turned into a boutique hotel,” she said.

Betty’s eyes took on a squinty look as she absorbed this news. All eyes focused back on Patrick, who was wringing his hands nervously.

“And what’s the situation with your mum now, Patrick?” Evette asked.

He took a shaky breath. “Mum threw Joe out. Now she won’t stop crying. I couldn’t get her to come out of her room this morning.”

“You did the right thing coming here,” soothed Evette.

“After the horse had already bolted,” muttered Simone. “I’ll go over there and check on her.” She shot a daggered look at Patrick, which made him shrink into his chair. In that moment he looked much younger than his twenty years, despite the beard and bravado. He looked like his mum around the eyes, and Star found herself torn between wanting to coddle him and wanting to throttle him.

“It’s worse than that,” said Patrick quietly.

“How can it be worse?” Star asked exasperatedly.

“Joe was on our side. I mean, he was kind of a double agent but in our favor.”

“How?” asked Simone.

“I went over to the Rowan Tree Inn, just now. I wanted to talk to Troy.”

“Troy?” asked Star, surprised.

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