Page 23 of A Scottish Christmas Hideaway
Chapter Fourteen
Jessica woke up the next morning and groaned — it was the day of the Christmas fair and the light switch on. She had promised her mum she would help and it was the least she could do, especially after everything she had shared with her and how supportive she had been — and she didn’t want her parents worrying about her any more than they already were — but she suddenly felt a bit overwhelmed at the thought of being in a hall with lots of people she hadn’t seen for a while and who might ask her lots of questions.
Giving herself a shake, she reminded herself that it was better to get out and about and do stuff than stay at home. She had felt so much better yesterday when she made the effort to go out. She smiled as she thought of Reuben and how nice it had been to sit and have a coffee with him. Who’d have thought the annoying best friend of her older brother would actually be good company! Maybe it was possible for them to be friends. As long as she could stop herself from looking at him inthatway. She sat up in bed, shaking all thoughts of Reuben and his muscular body away. She stretched, had a quick shower, dressed and went downstairs.
Her parents had told her they’d be away first thing and that she could walk along when she was ready. That was as long as she was there on time to help get the stall set up.
She hastily pulled her coat and boots on and looked at herself in the hall mirror. At least her face had a bit more colour in it now. It was her hair that could do with some attention. She really needed to make an appointment to get her hair cut. She would phone the local salon later and try to get a slot with Agata who always did her mum’s hair. In the meantime, at least it was long and she could scoop it into a ponytail.
As she walked down the high street, she admired the festive displays in the shop windows. She stopped for a moment to admire the small nativity display outside the local church. Then she decided to stop at the bakery and bought a special Christmas blend coffee from a harassed-looking Gillian.
‘Is everything okay?’ Jessica asked her in concern.
‘Um, yes,’ she said, distracted. Her curly red hair was pulled back from her face and tucked under a net, but a few tendrils had come loose and her cheeks were flushed.
‘You sure?’
Gillian bit her lip and sighed. ‘It’s just been one of those mornings. I could do with crawling into a dark room and hibernating for a month. Alternatively, a month solo in the Caribbean would be nice.’
Jessica frowned. Gillian was usually so perky and chatty. It was strange to see her so down in the dumps. She looked at her questioningly. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
Gillian glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. ‘Can you bake bread, do the accounts, sort out a festive window display and work a miracle here?’
‘Oh,’ she said in surprise. ‘Are things that bad?’
She pursed her lips together and nodded. ‘You wouldn’t believe it.’
Just then another few customers came into the shop.
‘Look, I’d better leave you to it but maybe we can catch up later? I’m due to help at the fair just now and my mum won’t be impressed if I’m late. She’s signed me up to help at the bottle tombola, which I believe is the top earner.’
Gillian gave a small chuckle. ‘Gawd, that’s a huge responsibility. I don’t envy you that. People get quitefrenziedat that one. And look out for the vintage bottle of Babycham that seems to reappear every year. I’m coming with Millie later if I can get away on time.’
‘Look out for me,’ Jessica smiled. ‘Maybe we could have a chat if that would help?’
Gillian looked at the queue that had now formed and nodded. ‘Thanks, Jessica. I’d like that. See you later.’
The bell on the door tinkled behind Jessica as she pulled it shut and her mind was a whirl of thoughts as she made her way towards the hall. Suddenly she had images of herself at the bakery helping Gillian. She pictured herself making batches of bread, maybe even special festive limited editions, and contributing to something useful. She was already trying to picture what a festive window display might look like. Was she being ridiculous? Would it be a good idea? But the more she thought about things, the better a plan it seemed, until she was sure that having a focus might actually help her. Reconnecting with her home and doing something, instead of hiding away, was suddenly no longer something to dread.
Before she let her thoughts run away with her, she reminded herself to focus on the job at hand — and she found herself mesmerised by the winter wonderland that greeted her on walking through the doors of the hall. What a transformation! There was a huge Christmas tree by the door which had the most wonderful scent of pine. The market stalls, draped with twinkling fairy lights, were arranged as though they were at a proper Christmas market. She could see a chocolate fountain opposite and smell the heavenly aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg. She wasn’t expecting it to be quite so festive. It was magical. Then she heard her mum call her name.
‘There you are, Jess. Am I glad to see you.’ She waved at Jessica and gestured for her to come over to the stall that had been formed from two tables, now covered with a Christmas tablecloth and various bottles of wine, beer, juice, washing-up liquid, laundry detergent — and the bottle of Babycham that Gillian had mentioned. ‘Right, love. Iris here will tell you aboutthe ticketing system and how it all works. Iris, do you remember Jessica?’
Iris, a petite, older woman with twinkling eyes and grey hair styled in a pixie cut, looked up at her and beamed. ‘Of course I do, pet. You were one of my best pupils in your sixth year.’ Iris’s soft Highland lilt was still as soothing as it was when Jessica was at secondary school. Iris had moved from Inverness to the west coast when she got married and had lived in Rowan Bay ever since.
Jessica laughed. She had taken Iris’s fashion and textiles course in her final year at school, not because she was particularly interested in fashion but because the class had filled a gap in her timetable. Turned out that she really enjoyed it because Iris made it such fun. ‘It’s nice to see you, Iris. You are looking as stylish as ever.’ Jessica pointed at Iris’s purple pinafore made with patches of tartan, lace and corduroy. She also had a garland of gold tinsel around her neck.
‘Thanks,’ she said, beaming. ‘Just a wee number I rustled up with some scraps from my fabric bag.’
‘It looks great on you,’ Jessica said, now genuinely glad she had come to help. This could actually be fun. ‘Now tell me what I need to do.’
‘Well, I do hope you’ve had a good breakfast this morning,’ she said, nodding at Jessica’s coffee cup. ‘This stall is not for the faint-hearted. You needstamina.’
Jessica chuckled, assuming she was joking. She thought it would be quite relaxed as people milled around and sipped on their cups of hot chocolate. But an hour later, she realised that Iris had been completely serious. The queue at their stall hadn’t waned all morning, with Iris feverishly barking orders at Jessica when the table needed restocking and the bucket of raffle tickets needed another shake. Iris had demonstrated, rather vigorously, how to give it a ‘good old jiggle’ and raised an eyebrow as shewarned her to watch out for people who clutched more tickets than they had paid for when they shoved their hand in the bucket. Jessica couldn’t remember her being this fierce when she was a teacher. So much for the soft voice. That was a ruse. It was as though she had inhabited a different personality now that the fair was in full swing and busy. Retirement and voluntary work had clearly toughened her up and given her an edge.
The hall was warming up now and Jessica shrugged off her coat, wishing that she’d worn a lighter jumper underneath instead of the thick woolly one, complete with a snowman on the front, which her mum had left out with instructions to wear to the fair. It was currently making the sweat drip down her back. She tucked some loose tendrils of hair behind her ears and puffed, feeling as though she had just done two back-to-back spin classes rather than help at a community fair. There was a lull in the queue and she was glad of the break before the next rush began. Then her stomach did a little flip when she saw Reuben walking across the hall to where her mum was manning the home-baked stall.
‘He’s a good-looking fella, isn’t he?’ said Iris, with a mischievous giggle.
