Page 53 of Kiss Me at Christmas
“I can’t wait to give the group the good news. One of our members was an interior designer in her old life, I’m sure she’d love to stretch out her design muscles.”
“What does she do now?” Harriet asked.
“She works for a cleaning firm, cleaning offices. We have a former cardiologist who does the same.” Her smile slipped. “These women held up the sky in their old lives; here they are invisible at best and targets of xenophobia at worst. I can’t magically change everybody’s mind about them, but I can help make it easier to survive here.”
Harriet felt like she understood Hesther on a cellular level; she saw her own driving force mirrored back at her.
“I get it,” she said earnestly. She placed her hand over her heart in an effort to make Hesther feel her sincerity. “I don’t have the right words to explain myself, but I honestly get it.”
Hesther smiled at her with wise eyes.
“I know that you do. I saw it the moment I clappedeyes on you with your students.” She grinned. “Mr. Knight knows it too.”
Later, after she’d cleared her work inbox for that day, she lay back against her pillows, replete with French onion soup and good conversation, and thought about Hesther and her women’s group. She realized that her ambitions for a community space went beyond the needs of her students. Everyone deserved a safe sanctuary, no matter their age or station in life, and she would challenge Evaline and whoever bought the place to ensure that the Winter Theater reserved a space for anyone in Little Beck Foss who needed it.
And then she remembered what Hesther had said regarding Evaline being a crappy landlady. She wasn’t surprised where Evaline was concerned, but she’d expected better from James. She set a high bar for herself, and she would be doing herself a disservice if she lowered it simply because he had a very nice face and had given her two orgasms on the night they’d met. He had become her new favorite sexual fantasy and she was loath to part with it, but she couldn’t in all good conscience continue to perv over him if he was complicit in his client’s dodgy dealings. Words would need to be had, and the sooner the better.
Sixteen
It had snowed again inthe night and Little Beck Foss positively sparkled on Friday morning as Harriet made her way to school. The huge Christmas tree outside the theater had fully come into its own now that its bauble-laden branches were also slathered in thick white snowflakes. The newly restored glass doors at the front of the theater were open, and she could see the frenetic activity inside, hammering and sawing sounds drifting down the path toward her, and she suddenly wished she were headed in there instead of to work.
Her phone rang as she reached the school grounds. It was Emma. She swished at the powdery snow on a low wall and sat down.
“Hello you, what are you up to?” she asked.
“I’m getting ready to take my parents Christmas shopping,” Emma replied.
“Cripes. Good luck with that.”
“We’re taking the train, which means I can drink a bottle of wine at lunch to ease the pain.”
Harriet laughed.
“I’d rather be spending the day with your parents than at Foss.”
“Blimey, work must be bad! Listen, I need to book you up in advance. I’ve been working on a marketingcampaign for a small vineyard down south who want to expand their sales reach into the north—sustainability, vegan wines and smaller carbon footprints, et cetera…”
“What an eco-warrior. You are to booze what Greta Thunberg is to the rest of the planet.”
“I know, there’ll be a special place in wine heaven for me. Anyway, my campaign caught the eye of an art gallery in Penrith, and they’ve ordered a few crates for their upcoming exhibitions. As a thank-you-slash-bribe the winery has acquired a couple of tickets for me to the opening night of an up-and-coming young artist’s exhibition next Thursday to take some pics for their website. Fancy it?”
“Who’s the up-and-coming artist?”
“No idea.”
“Doesn’t Pete want to go?”
“I haven’t asked him. I’m asking you. Pete’s had nonstop Christmas dinners with clients for the last fortnight; he can stay home and give his cholesterol levels a break.”
“I’ll be at the theater.”
“Leave a bit early! I’ll pick you up from there at half seven. Even you are allowed to take an evening off.”
“I’ve got so much to do—”
“Which is exactly why you should come out with me. It’s not good for you to spend every single night in your Scroogy flat working till your eyeballs fall out.”
“If I don’t work until my eyeballs fall out, I’ll get behind. And my flat is not Scroogy.”
