‘Is this one yours?’ Ophelia pointed to a cake set off a little from the others. ‘It has to be with the family of pigs sitting around the Christmas tree.’ She gave a tinkling laugh. ‘You even have their little snouts stuck in the book gifts they’ve opened.’
‘Gage got a kick out of seeing it, even though he won’t eat a bite.’
‘This must be Melissa’s,’ Evelyn said quietly.
‘Yeah.’ Tamara’s smile fell away. She’d spent ages crafting the miniature room with its couple snuggled together on a burgundy floral sofa that mimicked the Kellows’ own. The fondant Melissa and Nathan had their heads together and were readingA Christmas Carol. She cleared her throat. ‘I’ll give it to her before she leaves, even if I have to abandon it on the doorstep.’
‘Good girl,’ Evelyn said with a firm nod. ‘Now I for one am taking my cake home and cutting it straight away to have a taste.’
There was a flurry of boxing up cakes, thanks, hugs and promises to see each other soon. After they’d all left, Tamara decided that Evelyn’s idea sounded good to her. She refilled the kettle and turned it on to boil, then cut a large wedge of cake from one of the thickly iced corners and bit into it. Perfect. This was Christmas.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tamara pulled her collar up around her ears and shoved her free hand in her coat pocket. Even she had to admit it would’ve been smart to wear gloves. Up until now they’d enjoyed Cornwall’s normal mild and damp winter weather, with the occasional early-morning frost, but last night the temperature had plummeted. This morning, they’d woken to a scene that only needed a sprinkling of glitter to resemble a Christmas card. A light covering of snow changed the shape of everything and gave even the most pedestrian buildings a hint of the gingerbread cottage. You could almost smell Christmas in the air.
She’d left Gage in a grouchy mood. They’d been promoting Secret Santa Saturday all over social media, seizing the fact it was mid-December and people were starting to panic about their Christmas shopping. He was even interviewed on the local radio station for their daily segment on festive happenings. Their promise was to help people choose the perfect gifts for everyone on their lists. But this weather could send all their efforts down the drain if the roads weren’t safe to drive on. It was a long-standing joke that Cornwall’s idea of preparedness began and ended with a single snow plough that was shifted around the county as needed. It was a shame after such a good week.
Gage had been different after his visit to Victoria’s grandmother. More relaxed and at ease with himself. His long conversation with Louise had clearly put more of his demons to rest, especially his lingering insecurity about never being good enough in the eyes of Victoria’s family. The old lady had apparently told him with a wry smile that her son and daughter-in-law were snobs and would learn their lesson one day.
Gage had also been overjoyed to hear about her reconciliation with Pixie and hadn’t minded at all when she’d helped out at the pub a few times. But Tamara’s best gift toher friend was introducing Pixie to Wilf Buckingham. The man’s experience in the hotel business made him ideal as a part-time barman and waiter to help the pub through the busy Christmas season. Rocky was doing all the puddings now and was happy with the extra pay boost. Tamara was officially off the hook.
The holly wreath pricked her bare fingers, so she picked up her pace, eager to get to the cemetery and her parents’ graves. She and her sister had made it a Christmas tradition to do this every year, and her good mood slipped down a few notches thinking about Tracy and how much she missed her.
She pushed open the creaking gate and was hurrying along the snowy path when the sound of someone talking made her grind to a halt. The last thing she wanted to do was to disturb anyone’s private moment. The path forked at the base of an ancient oak tree, but before Tamara could head over to the right the voice drifted close enough for her to recognise Melissa’s strong American accent.
‘Oh, Robin, I’m in such a mess. It’s partly your fault because if you hadn’t been so selfish and we’d had a baby together, this wouldn’t be an issue. I almost convinced myself that if I pretended not to care any longer about getting pregnant, Nathan and I would go back to how we were, but it’s not working. It’s tearing us apart, and I can’t bear it much longer.’ An anguished sob ripped out of Melissa. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
On impulse, Tamara stepped out into her friend’s line of sight. Melissa turned the same colour as the snow at their feet.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear, but I couldn’t help it.’
‘You could’ve walked on by and left me in peace.’ Melissa’s voice shook, but Tamara couldn’t be certain whether it was in anger or with the cold.
‘I suppose I could, but you’re my friend. I know Josie and I messed up at book club, but—’
‘You meant well.’ The corners of Melissa’s mouth lifted. ‘Bless your hearts.’
Was it wrong that they both burst out laughing? Tamara didn’t think so. ‘We really did.’ She touched her friend’s arm. ‘Don’t push us out when you need us the most. I’m learning my lesson too when it comes to that, so maybe we can do this together. As for Nathan, you’ve always been great at communicating with each other, so stop lying to him. Tell the poor man exactly how you feel, and listen when he does the same. Bawl your eyes out. Get angry. Rail at the injustice of it all. I completely understand you wanting to see your family, but don’t leave Nathan here alone. Not at Christmas.’
‘I keep trying to get the courage to ask him to come with me.’ Her shoulders drooped. ‘I’m afraid buying the ticket was a touch of defiance on my part.’
‘You hoped he’d beg you not to go.’ The realisation hit like a bolt of lightning. ‘Nathan’s not a man to play games. You know that. All he saw was you, miserable and desperate to get away from both here and him.’
‘Pretty dumb, huh? Or as you say in these here parts, I’m a daft maid.’ Melissa’s mangled Cornish accent was the worst Tamara had ever heard. Worse even than the actors on telly who often tried and failed so miserably to emulate it. Melissa wiped her eyes and sniffed. ‘I’d better go home and grovel to my poor husband.’
Tamara touched Robin’s dark granite headstone. ‘See, you did help her after all.’
‘You don’t think it’s weird me chatting to him? I don’t do it as often these days, but sometimes it still helps.’
‘It’s not weird at all. I’ll be talking to my mum and dad in a minute. Tell them about Gage and our plans.’
‘Do I hear wedding bells?’
‘Absolutely not!’
The outburst made her friend smile. ‘So you made one mistake when you were a teenager, but we’ve all done that. How long are you going to keep beating yourself up over it?’
‘I’m just cautious.’
