Page 119 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas
Kate had convinced herself that being great friends with Matt was enough. But now she knew different. Now she’d listened to what her heart had been trying to tell her for so long: she would always yearn for being more than just good friends. She couldn’t stay in a place where their lives were so intertwined; one way or another they always had been, and that was why she had to leave.
•••••
Kate opened the larder and pulled out two bags of hazelnuts. She would need more. Laura’s favorite bake of all time was a toasted hazelnut brownie. As a peace offering Kate planned to make her a batch and buy her a bottle of wine, and stand on her doorstep with her figurative cap in her hand and beg forgiveness. But first she needed more hazelnuts.
She wrapped up appropriately for the arctic temperature and made her way to Evelyn’s shop. It had stopped snowing, but it was freezing cold and the wind was bitter. She cut through Potters Copse, where the foliage acted as a reasonable windbreaker.
There was barely a branch or bush that wasn’t hung with baubles or tinsel now. People had started to leave larger decorations too. Through the trees, just off to the right, someone had deposited a wooden sleigh pulled by eight plastic reindeer. A nutcracker doll stood at attention by a hawthorn tree and several—some might say life-size—wooden elves were dotted along the snowy path.
A squirrel stopped to look at Kate, a nut clamped between its teeth, before scurrying up the nearest tree trunk. It paused at a shiny pink bauble that dangled from a twig and gave it a good sniff; then, satisfied that it hadn’t missed out on a tasty morsel, it disappeared up into the spindly top branches.
Kate took out her phone and began to take photographs: the jolly Santa with his black boots in a tangle of snowy roots, the knitted owlthat someone had perched in the hollow of a tree, and the fairy doll in the pink tutu, balanced where bough met trunk.
She lost herself for no little time in the magic of the quiet copse—until the spell was broken by a crow squawking angrily above her and a streak of a ginger cat landed in the snow next to her and slunk silently away, with no crow to show for his efforts. Kate pocketed her phone and continued on to the shop.
Of course Evelyn had hazelnuts. Not only that but she had the perfect wine to complement a hazelnut brownie.
She also had news: the carolingwouldtake its route through Potters Copse this year and would then make its way back round to the Pear Tree for Christmas treats.
Kate didn’t tell Evelyn that she wouldn’t be attending the caroling, or any of the festivities thereafter. She had resigned herself to a quiet Christmas Eve this year. She would prep the veg for Christmas Day in front of the TV, with some mulled wine and a bag of truffles she had stashed in the fridge. It wouldn’t be so bad. In truth, after so many dates of enforced conversation with strangers, she was quite looking forward to a bit of calm.
“I had a chap in earlier today that knows you,” said Evelyn.
“Really?” said Kate.
“Lovely lad,” said Evelyn. “Been in the Pear Tree asking after you. Said you told him it was the best coffee for miles. Was on his way to the manor.”
Kate recalled there being a Christmas-tree-decorating competition as one of the Twelve Dates options. She hadn’t realized it was up at the manor. Kate had opted for the wine-tasting tour at the local vineyard instead.
“Did you get his name?” Kate asked.
Evelyn closed her eyes and screwed up her nose as she thought.
“Daryl, Darrius, David...”
“Drew?” asked Kate helpfully.
Evelyn slapped her thigh.
“That’s it!” said Evelyn. “Lovely chap, said you were a fine filly on the dance floor!”
Kate laughed. “That’s Drew all right.”
Kate stocked up on a few essentials while she was in the shop: a packet of Patrick’s free-range bacon and a white crusty loaf. She had veg from the garden at home, so she picked up a pack of chopped steak from the fridge to make a stew. She grabbed some more suet for dumplings. She could slow-cook it today and there’d be enough for tomorrow as well—she would need something to line her stomach before the wine-tasting tomorrow afternoon.
Kate wandered around the shop. Evelyn put her glasses back on and went back to her book. It was the twentieth of December. The kids had broken up from school and the village suddenly seemed crowded.
Kate lingered by the deep rounded bay windows—filled with bargain romance novels, canned goods, and tinsel—and looked out across the green. The Pear Tree windows were steamed up as usual and a steady stream of families filed in and out. Kate could just hear the jingle of the bell above the café door. Her heart gave a twinge, and she felt a pang of longing. Longing to be in the Pear Tree, drinking coffee and being teased by Matt. Longing for things to be like they were before.
“We’ll all be sad to see you go,” said Evelyn without looking up from her book.
Kate might have guessed her dad would tell Evelyn her plans.
“Not everyone,” said Kate.
“Some more than you might think,” said Evelyn. “The world doesn’t seem to sit right when you two are fighting.”
“The world won’t need to worry when I’m gone,” said Kate.
