Page 75 of Someone For Everyone

She was certainly efficient, he’d give her that.

‘Thanks for doing that. I’m planning to offer Nelson a few more shifts, so that’ll definitely help. And if I don’t book a chiropodist soon, Hanna’s threatening to order garden shears and do the job herself. And no one wants that.’ He hoped to see her crack a smile, but her expression remained stoically neutral. ‘And the bad news?’

‘Geraldine got a call from the hospital about her hip replacement operation. They’ve had a last-minute cancellation, so she’s gone off for an assessment appointment with the consultant today.’

He frowned. ‘Isn’t that good news? I thought she’d be glad to move up the waiting list?’

‘In her absence, she’s left you with a list of chores to do ahead of the village lantern parade this evening.’ She handed him Geraldine’s note. ‘How are your culinary skills?’

He glanced at the list. ‘I have no idea how to make mince pies or mulled wine.’

Kate rubbed her forehead. ‘Fine, I’ll help you.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘It’s not like I’m busy,’ she said, pushing the chair under the desk. ‘Like I said, the probate application is done. I’m just tidying up a few things before I leave on Wednesday.’

Wednesday?That was too soon. Far too soon. ‘Are you sure you want to help me? After, you know, what we’ve just discussed?’

She gave him an admonishing look. ‘You’re not that hot, Calvin Johnson,’ she said, placing her hands on her hips. ‘Credit me with some restraint.’

He didn’t want to tell her it wasn’t her restraint he was worried about.

‘Besides, can you imagine the grief you’d get from Geraldine if you messed up her kitchen?’ She headed over to the door. ‘Come on, let’s get this over with.’

He followed her into the lobby, wondering why the sinking feeling in his gut hadn’t shifted. She’d taken the news better than expected. He’d been worried about upsetting her, but she was fine. In fact, she’d agreed with him. She didn’t think starting something was a good idea either. She’d let him off the hook.

So why wasn’t he feeling more relieved?

Chapter Seventeen

Tuesday, 21stDecember

It was the musical notes stencilled on to the door that caught Kate’s attention as she scurried along the pavement, shivering from the cold, otherwise she might not have spotted the quaint independent music shop nestled into Ashford’s busy High Street. Despite the grandeur of the Georgian building, with its decorative archway, theBrowsers Welcomesign encouraged her closer. Her train wasn’t due for another forty minutes, so she had time for a quick browse.

Hoisting up her Christmas shopping bags, she pushed open the shiny black door, making the bell above jangle. Thankfully, she’d had just enough credit left on her bank card to buy gifts – although she’d stuck to her budget, she was looking forward to a time when she wouldn’t have to count every penny. By this time next month, her commission should have come through, and she’d be able to put the past behind her and begin a new phase of her life.

Maybe one day she’d even be able to treat herself to a new piano or guitar. But that was some way off. She needed to find a job first, and that was proving elusive.

As she wandered through the quiet shop, admiring the instruments, she noticed a small soundproof booth. An acoustic guitar was sitting on its stand, its mahogany colouring a reminder of her dad’s old Fender Classic.

Checking no one was watching, she slipped inside and shut the door.

Dumping her bags on the floor, she picked up the instrument and trailed her fingers over the strings. It had a nice full soundand her heart pinched at the memory of what she’d lost. There were a lot of things she’d never forgive Tristan for, and selling her dad’s guitar definitely secured top spot.

Perching on the stool, she strummed a few chords. She missed playing. Even more, she missed having something that reminded her of her dad. Playing made her feel close to him. Music had been their connection, the trait she’d inherited that kept him alive in her heart.

It had been a while since she’d played, and her fingers felt stiff and clumsy, their tips having softened from a lack of practice. But the muscle memory was still there, and gradually the sound quality improved as she reacquainted herself with the instrument.

It took a few moments for her to recognise the tune her brain had randomly selected: ‘Christmas in the Air’, by Scouting for Girls. Funny how she’d settled on that particular favourite. Or maybe not so random.

Her mind drifted back to Sunday night and her conversation with Calvin about what they both liked about Christmas. The evening had started out so nicely – it had ended even better. There hadn’t been many notable incidents in her life, but kissing Calvin Johnson was a definite highlight. If only she could erase everything that had happened since.

Humming along to the chorus, allowing the music to block out the aftermath of them kissing, she was transported back to that moment. Him stroking her hair, smiling down at her and pulling her into an embrace. She’d been kissed before, of course she had, but she’d never felt consumed the way she had on Sunday evening. It was proper bone-melting stuff. The kind of kiss that swept away inhibitions and ignited a flame that threatened to override any sense of propriety. If that family hadn’t appeared on the walkway, she couldn’t honestly say what would have happened next.

As it was, the moment had been broken and they’d merged into the crowd, exchanging heated glances as they’d made their way back to Rose Court. The memory had stayed with her all night, preventing sleep, and filling her mind with erotic dreams and images of them rolling about her bed – giving Ursula a run for her money when it came to nightly excursions.

It was only as dawn broke on Monday morning that doubt had started to creep in. Had she overimagined things, and believed it to mean more than it did? As time had ticked away, and with no sign of Calvin, her doubts had morphed into dread. When he’d finally appeared late morning and found her in the library, she’d known what was coming even before he’d uttered a single word. It was the look on his face. She knew regret when she saw it.

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