‘Well, yeah, kind of, J, yes.’ Tony chuckled. ‘How did you guys meet?’
‘Oh, we bumped into each other on our travels.’ Jamie tactfully didn’t give too much detail. Her pulse could take some time out from its sprinting.
‘Nice and vague, J.’ Tony hinted at his desire for more clarity, before adding, ‘I was just asking for a wee photo for the paper.’
Off darted that pulse around the track again.
‘Ah, right.’ Jamie’s sensitivity to Alicia’s discomfort was evident in the coolness of his tone. ‘If you don’t mind,’ he said, ‘Alicia’s trying to stay under the radar.’
And, abracadabra, as if he had waved some sort of magic PR wand, Tony capitulated. ‘Okay. Sure thing. Sorry if it seemed like I was hassling you there, Alicia.’
‘Aye, and I’m sorry about the selfie,’ said Dawn. ‘I can delete it, if you want.’
‘It’s fine.’ Alicia attempted a joke. ‘I need my face on for photos these days.’ Truth was, she wanted their respect rather than make up, and it shouldn’t have taken Jamie to activate their manners. But the overarching vibe was relief that there would not be a scene today. Alicia hated scenes.
Chapter 26
Alicia
Ten days later, with Jamie at work, Alicia settled into her painting routine. She dreamed of making this her life: tucked away in a little village with her paintbrushes, canvas, and him. Though her flight home was booked for the end of that week, he had asked her to extend her stay until the new year, which meant she would spend Christmas and New Year’s Eve with his family. And because she had been painting prolifically, they decided to reveal the paintings to his father as a Christmas surprise.
Around eleven, Alicia broke for coffee, but found none left. She picked up her phone to ask Jamie to get some on the way home. Then she realised there was a simpler solution. It was a beautiful winter’s morning, the sun gently melting the glitter off the frost-embalmed scenery. Restless and eager to venture out alone, she decided to get some coffee herself. She could enjoy a cup at a local café and pick up a packet for the house on the way back.
Alicia put on her coat and beanie, toying with, but rejecting, the idea of the wig.
The morning air was crisp, and the winter sun refreshing on her face. Alicia could easily grow to love living here. Despite the incident with Tony and Dawn, the absence of either paparazzi or the relentless pursuit of showbusiness was a welcome change. The likelihood of any scandal was refreshingly low. She inhaled a rich lungful of clean air, her facial muscles softening as she embraced the frosty stillness.
In the village Alicia forgot herself. First there was the pretty bakery where she was lured in by the savoury aroma to buy warm loaves of sourdough and pastries and scones. They were much rounder and plumper than American scones with giant sultanas bursting out. And she tripped with excitement over the entrance of the florist with its Christmas garlands and abundant bouquets of red, orange and pink roses. She opted for a holly and mulberry wreath for Jamie’s front door.
The quaint charm seemed infinite. Near the top of the high street, Alicia’s eye was captured by a quirky gift shop. The window display itself, containing item from scented candles to diffusers to ceramic pots, suggested it was a treasure trove of delights. Inside, she was in her element selecting gifts for her mom and for Sunni. Perhaps she could even get something to take to Jamie’s mother on Christmas Day.
The shop assistant, busy tidying displays, greeted Alicia warmly and offered help.
‘Thanks, I’m quite happy browsing,’ she said.
‘Do help yourself to a basket. I’m sure we have lots of things you will like.’ The assistant spoke in a voice that sounded a little affected, suggesting she may have recognised Alicia, although it could also have been small town friendliness.
‘Thank you.’ As Alicia grabbed a basket, her attention was diverted towards a small display of colourful books.
The books were mainly style tomes. She flicked through one on romanticising your home. Inspiration tumbled out from the pages, but if she bought this would Jamie worry that she wanted to revamp his cottage?
Alongside the style books, there were others which were more of the self-help ilk, with titles such asYour Bestie is You, Becoming a You Whisperer, andClearing out Your Negativity Attic.Alicia stifled a giggle at the last title but reached for the book. Perhaps she needed to clear out her negativity attic. A glance over the back cover told her the book was all about how to declutter your life of negative emotions and people. It wasn’t anything new, but as someone who’d had her share of negative people in her ‘attic’, who to some extent were still there, Alicia liked the sound of it. Hey, it could be worth a read. She placed it in her basket.
‘Are you here on holiday?’ the assistant asked when Alicia lifted the basket onto the counter, leaving her a little uncertain how to respond.
‘Oh, um…yes. I’m vacationing over Christmas.’ That was vague but informative enough to stop any more questions.
‘Oh, how lovely… This book is fantastic. You’ll love it. Actually, if you’re interested, the author is doing a talk and signing in a local bookshop next week.’ She pushed a flyer across the counter to Alicia. It said:An evening with Lorcan McCrimmon, author, health-mystic, entrepreneur.‘You should come along. There will be finger food and mulled wine.’
Alicia smiled. This woman was kind, and it would be nice to do something beyond the four walls of Jamie’shouse. If he was with her, she could cope with a few locals staring.
‘Who can resist mulled wine? Thank you. I will come along.’ Alicia was touched by the woman’s friendliness but the fact that she had enough propriety not to pry. As she walked back to the house there was a skip in her step at the loveliness of Kinshore.
‘So, as well as the wreath, I got a book today,’ Alicia told Jamie as they ate dinner. ‘It’s calledClearing out Your Negativity Attic.Bit of a wacko title but it might be good for helping me to deal with some of the Chad stuff without losing my mind to cynicism. What do you think?’
Jamie chewed on a baby potato and arched an eyebrow. ‘Negativity Attic?’
‘Yeah, it’s a bit vom’, but the principle behind it could be good, right?’
