Page 43 of Mistletoe and Mulled Wine at the Christmas Campervan

Word soon spread that The Cocktail Campervan’s refreshments were for free, and a merry queue began snaking its way along the street – and after a sip or two of the potent wine, it was likely they were going to be even merrier.

Jack was enjoying the buzz as the villagers and visitors gathered. His mulled wine was going down a treat, with some back for second helpings already. He recognised a few friendly faces from Lucy’s autumn street party, and had a quick chat with Kev, Cathy’s husband, who’d been the chap dangling precariously from the cherry picker earlier. Jack knew a few people to say ‘hello’ to in his own small village, but tended to think of his lodgings with Matt as more of a temporary base. But here in Embleton, well, there seemed to be a huge heart to this village of Lucy’s.

He glanced across as she served out cranberry crushes for the kids, taking the time to chat with them and their parents too. She wasn’t just beautiful outside, he realised, with a tug within; she was beautiful inside too. But could he really be the one to give her what she needed in life? Was it time to make the break before things got more complicated, or messy, between them? She caught him staring, quirking an eyebrow as if to say, ‘What’s up?’ then giving a warm smile. He’d always bolted before there was any chance of getting attached. But with Lucy … damn it, he was still torn and standing at the crossroads.

With the queue still long, and more arrivals by the minute, Jack went back to his pouring and serving. The village tree light-up was evidently thirsty work!

‘Any more of that there spicy wine left?’ asked a burly middle-aged chap with a mass of greying-brown curls poking out from beneath his woolly hat. He leaned on the chrome countertop. ‘Good stuff, that is. Warms the cockles.’ He gave a chuckle.

‘Of course,’ Jack said, ever courteous, though he was a bit anxious at this point about supplies drying up. He’d already used the back-up pan, and was now on a top-up mix of wine, orange and spices. He hoped the lighting-the-tree part of the proceedings would come around soon, or they’d be running dry.

A few minutes later, the primary school children began to gather around the tree, looking adorable with their winter coats on over their school uniforms, along with a couple of teachers and some parent-helpers.

After a request for a little hush and a lead-in of, ‘And a one, two, three …’ – with the crowd now expectant – they began to sing, quietly at first and then gaining in confidence. The voices were sweet and joyous, if a little wonky. The lyrics of ‘Away in a Manger’ rang out into the still of the evening. There was a hint of frost in the air, and the rendition of ‘Silent Night’ that followed was so beautiful that Lucy found herself with a tear in her eye, with those innocent lilting voices not always quite in tune.

And then, after ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’ had finished, it was time for the lighting up. The parish’s lady vicar taking centre stage, thanking everyone for coming, and for all their help today.

‘So, without further ado,’ she called out, ‘I ask our councillor David Nesbitt to flick the switch.’ There was a big black-painted cardboard box set beside her with what looked to be a cardboard lever. Lucy did wonder if that could possibly do anything or if it was just for effect, but somehow, somewhere, a switch was actually flicked in tandem and phew, on came the bulbs, strings of bold multicoloured lights pinged into life, with the gaudy-bright star lit up at the top.

The crowd cheered, someone shouted ‘Merry Christmas!’ and there were a couple of ‘woops’, before the children re-grouped and came back into song for a rousing rendition of ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’, which the already merry crowd began to join in with.

Yet more mulled wine was partaken – Jack was sweating at this point. Then the vicar and the local councillor stepped up to say another round of ‘thank-yous’, and to invite everyone back to the village hall, where there were mince pies and treats and teas and coffees at the ready.

The gathering seemed happy to stand chatting with their festive drinks to hand for a little longer, with several children scampering about under the tree, probably on a sugar-fizz high by now. A couple of frazzled parents were on their heels telling them to calm down, no doubt fearing the festive fir might come down at any minute. But hey-ho, that seemed to be all part of the fun. Ten minutes or so later, small groups began to drift away, most of them heading down the road towards the village hall where the celebrations would continue.

As the crowd thinned, Jack noticed there was someone lurking in the shadows over the way, staring across at the campervan … and more directly, at Lucy. The chap seemed vaguely familiar, and Jack felt a prickle run over his skin. It was him. The bloke who had been pestering Lucy at the wedding.

Lucy must have picked up on it at the same time. She looked over towards the figure, blurting out, ‘Oh, what the hell is he doing here?’

Jack pulled up. ‘So, you do know this guy, after all?’ His tone was accusatory. She’d obviously been hiding something all along. ‘So, who is it, Luce? And, what’s he got to do with you?’

Lucy had gone bright red. But she found she couldn’t answer, suddenly mute, stood wondering what was about to unfold. How did Liam have anything to do with her village of Embleton? Why was he even here? It was odd enough him appearing at that wedding … but here, in her own village, that felt strange. As far as she knew, he was still living down in Morpeth, so this wouldn’t be his neck of the woods at all …

‘Luce …?’ Jack was worried now.

‘It’s … it’s Liam, my ex …’

Liam was coming across now. He was on his own. No new girlfriend on his arm or parents in tow. Odd, thought Lucy.

She leaped down from the campervan. Whatever was about to unfold with her ex, she didn’t want Jack to get embroiled with it.

‘Hi, Luce.’ Liam was smiling at her.

‘Ah, hi.’ Lucy felt all kinds of wobbly inside. All those memories of old bubbled up to the surface, and at the same time seeing Liam here on her new home turf was really unsettling. She could almost feel Jack’s eyes boring into her back at this point. ‘So, were you here for the tree?’ Her brow furrowed; it did seem a strange thing for a thirty-something male to be doing on his own. ‘Umm, I didn’t think you had any links with this village …’ Her voice trailed off.

‘Only you,’ he said. And again, that smile that she remembered so well.

‘Oh.’

‘Look, Luce,’ Liam began, putting out an arm and leading her away from the festive stragglers, away from the campervan …

Lucy felt frozen, her body somehow following on autopilot. She still couldn’t believe it. Liam: what the hell is he doing here?

‘I’ve been a bit of an idiot,’ Liam said, immediately laying it all on the table, it seemed. ‘And I’m sorry – for everything that happened between us, for how it all ended …’

Lucy looked up sharply. Well, that was the understatement of the year.

‘And well,’ he continued, giving his best puppy-dog eyes, ‘you know … if you ever change your mind. Miss the life we had …’