Page 111 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas
“But you can’t!” said Laura. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too. But I have to go.”
“But why?” asked Laura. “It was just a stupid argument, you two will get over it, you always do.”
“You know that’s not the reason,” said Kate.
More silence on the other end of the line.
“What about your house? You love your house,” said Laura.
“I’ll rent it out.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to leave Blexford,” said Laura. “Couldn’t you just avoid Matt for a while and then see how you feel in a month or so? Why rush into a decision you might regret in a little while? You and Richard might become a thing. You might forget all about Matt.”
“I’m in love with him, Laura,” said Kate. “I don’t want to be, but I am. And I can’t stay here and see him every day and know that he doesn’t love me back. I can’t do it.”
Laura was quiet again. Kate could hear her breathing on the end of the line. Laura gave a long sigh.
“I know,” she said. “I know. And I do understand. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Now that Laura knew, all that remained was to tell her dad. The rest of the village would find out soon enough. But not until she was alreadygone, far enough away that she wouldn’t have to face the inevitable onslaught of questions.
•••••
The gingerbread house challenge was being held in the afternoon, and what a gray afternoon it was. It was snowing again. It had stopped overnight and begun again late morning, so that yesterday’s snow had had time to harden, making a perfect surface for the next deluge to lie on.
The dining hall was paneled in dark wood to half its height, with the remainder of the exposed walls painted dark green. Coats of arms and ancestral portraits of men, women, and children with foreboding expressions lined the walls.
The long banqueting table that ran the length of the room—usually mocked up to look as it would for an Elizabethan feast—was covered in thick white paper tablecloths. There were twenty-five places laid, each with a flat-pack gingerbread kit house, ready to be constructed and all the icing and bowls of sweets required to do the job.
Each workstation had place cards, as though they were about to sit down to a wedding breakfast. Kate found hers and Adam’s and sat down. Only four other people had arrived so far; they smiled nervously at one another down the vast table. Even the reps were nowhere to be seen.
Laura marched in wearing her uniform, looking very prim.
“Don’t worry, folks,” she said brightly. “The reps are out on the road directing the traffic in. The highways agency closed Blexford hill and diverted the traffic and everyone got lost!”
The faces around the table relaxed.
“I’ve got my kitchen slaves rustling up vats of extremely alcoholic and alcohol-free mulled wine,” Laura trilled.
The faces around the table looked positively chipper. Laura made her way over to Kate and sat down.
“Can I talk to you later?” she asked.
“You won’t change my mind,” said Kate.
“I know,” said Laura. “But I need to talk to you all the same. Can you wait for me after this? I’ll give you a lift home.”
Kate agreed. Laura bit her lip and smiled weakly. Kate imagined she must be taking her news worse than she’d expected. The rest of the dates began to shuffle into the hall, and Laura excused herself and left.
Adam caught sight of Kate immediately. He smiled and walked over, shrugging out of his parka and pulling off his scarf as he walked.
“Kate!” He grinned when he reached her. “Nice to meet you.”
He had a strong Scottish accent, which, had Kate been in a different frame of mind, would absolutely have set her knickers on fire.
“You too,” said Kate.
