A December to Remember

The driver gave a salute, and Joe slammed the passenger door shut. The lorry pulled back out onto the road and left them windswept and shivering on the pavement.

“Want to tell me what this is all about?” Joe asked, taking his duffel bag from Patrick.

“Mind if we discuss it in the van? My nipples are in danger of snapping off.” Simone was trying to hold her hair down with one hand and keep her coat closed with the other. Joe made an “after you” motion, and Simone set off to the van with Patrick and Joe following behind.

There were a few moments of relief and exclamation as they closed the doors on the weather and settled themselves into the three seats in the front of the van, Joe in the middle.

She started the engine and put the heater on high to clear the windscreen. No one had said anything yet, and it was beginning to feel awkward. She wished Patrick would say his piece and get it over with. Eventually Joe broke the stalemate.

“Okay, you’ve stopped me leaving for France. Now what?”

She heard Patrick gulp. “I’m sorry about the way I dropped you in it,” he began. “It was a dick move.”

Joe took a moment to absorb Patrick’s words. “Apology accepted. And I’m sorry that I didn’t tell anyone about my involvement with Gilbert and Marks. I don’t think we did ourselves any favors by keeping secrets. I’m sorry you had to find out about the eviction like that. Your mum never wanted that. She only ever wanted to protect you and Verity.”

“I know. And thanks. So, are we good?”

Joe let out a long sigh. “This doesn’t change anything. Your mum asked me to leave. She blocked my number. I don’t think she wants to see me.”

“I know that she does want to see you.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“No. I just know.”

Joe took another deep breath. “Let’s say I come back with you and your mum accepts my apology. Where does that leave us? You block me at every turn, Patrick. I don’t want to be your enemy. I would never, could never try to fill your father’s shoes. I only ever wanted us to be mates.”

“I know. I realize it doesn’t seem like it, but I want that too.”

“If push comes to shove, your mum will always choose you. I fell in love with her knowing that I would always come second best to you and Verity. I can handle that. The question is, can you handle having me around?”

“Yeah. I can. I want you to come back.”

“Are we done?” asked Simone. “I don’t want to hurry anyone’s emotional journey, but I left Star in charge of the catering, and I am fearful of what that means for all of us.”

Joe looked at Patrick. “This is your last chance to get rid of me,” he said.

Patrick screwed his face up but then cracked it into a smile. “Nah, we’re good. Let’s go.”

“Unless your mum kicks me to the curb as soon as we arrive.”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we? For now, we need to get back to Rowan Thorp before Star decides it’s a good idea to put cannabis in the trifle,” Simone said.

The van roared to life. The weather outside was frightful, but inside, spirits were high despite the uncertainty waiting for them back in Rowan Thorp.





49





The early morning deliveries were still stacked up by the back door where they’d been left, and Maggie decided to take them in and stash them in the cold store, giving herself a minute to get her head in the game before she went to find her sisters.

She had just pulled the door shut when Duncan appeared behind her.

“Bloody hell, Duncan, I almost peed my pants!”

A closer look at his expression showed that he was distinctly shaken.

“Thank god I’ve found you!” he said, letting out a puff of held breath. “You need to come quickly, Star is freaking out.”

“Star?” Maggie was incredulous. “Star doesn’t freak out, she meditates.”

“She’s not meditating now.” Duncan looked grim.

“Right, lead the way.” There was nothing like another person’s crisis to help you shelve your own.

When she entered the cookery school kitchen behind the Stag and Hound, the preparations for the feast were well under way. Saucepans full of parsnips and potatoes waiting to be parboiled before roasting covered half the hobs. A vat of red cabbage simmered gently, pushing out steam perfumed with red wine and cinnamon. Mounds of peeled brussels sprouts and carrots sat beside a pile of cauliflower florets ready for the leek and cauliflower cheese.

Across the kitchen ten large raw chickens in roasting tins were lined up along one long stainless steel worktop. A bucket-sized bowl of stuffing sat nearby, amid the detritus left by peeled garlic cloves and branches of herbs.

Standing beside chicken number eight, wearing rubber gloves that reached up to her elbows and a maniacal expression on her face, was Star. Her gloves were shiny with raw chicken and butter and smeared all over with stuffing. She was brandishing a lemon like a weapon.

“Hello, Twinkle-Star, everything all right?” Maggie asked in her most soothing voice.

Star’s eyes seemed to focus, as though just realizing Maggie was there. “Nigella says I have to put lemons up chickens’ bottoms!”

“Does she now? Pervert.”

“She’s made me massage butter into their crevices.”

“Nigella is a very sensual woman.”

“I don’t eat meat. I’ve never handled dead birds. I’ve never handled dead anything. Do you know what massaging a dead chicken feels like?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. But I can see that this has been something of a baptism of fire for you.”

Star shook the fist that clenched the lemon. “This is what love looks like. I’ve forced lemons into dead chickens’ bottoms because you are sad. True love is lemons in chickens’ bottoms!”

Maggie noticed that Duncan was backing toward the door. She didn’t want to laugh at her sister’s obvious distress, but it had been a hell of a weird day and this absurdity was just too much. Once the giggles started, she couldn’t stop them.

“Star, I’m sorry you were left with all this,” she said through her snickering. “I’m going to take over from you now, okay?” She was moving slowly around the worktop, one hand out like she’d seen Chris Pratt do with the velociraptors in Jurassic World.

“They’re all dead!” Star squeaked, but she was starting to laugh too.

“Given the circumstances, that’s probably for the best.”

“I was supposed to be in charge of the nut roasts.”

“I know, sweetie, and I’m sorry. I’m here now.” Star still held the lemon, but her stance was beginning to relax a little and she burst out sporadically in paroxysms of laughter. “Star, I need you to step away from the chickens and put the lemon down.”

Star looked at her hand as though only just seeing the lemon and placed it down on the worktop.

“Good girl. Let’s get you over to the sink and rinse those gloves off, shall we?” She took her sister by the shoulders and carefully maneuvered her toward one of the sinks. The pair of them were practically squealing with laughter.

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