Page 58 of Mistletoe and Mulled Wine at the Christmas Campervan

‘It was Liam …. leaving your cottage. It was ten o’clock in the morning, Luce …’ He couldn’t look at her then, it hurt too much, his glance dropping to the ground.

‘Oh Jack,’ Lucy said, her heart beating ten to the dozen, ‘it’s not what you think. Yes, he’d come by, but for a coffee. It was just a chance to talk … to clear the air.’ Oh, what a mess. Lucy felt panicky. The air between the two of them now felt so damned polluted, it threatened to choke them. ‘You’ve got to believe me, Jack,’ she pleaded.

‘I saw what I saw, Luce.’ Jack’s tone was cold.

How could she make him see sense? This was ridiculous, an awful misunderstanding. But Jack, well, he had to have some trust in her too.

‘You really think I’m capable of that? You think I’d betray you with that dickhead? I’d never hurt you like that. We have to be able to trust each other.’

‘Trust …?’ Jack looked at her, incredulous.

‘I know what it might have looked like, but that’s just not true. Look, it was Liam who let down the tyres on the horsebox, smashed the Jeep’s window …’

Lucy knew she sounded frantic now, it looked like she was scrabbling for excuses. ‘It was horrible, Jack, I just had to see him …’

‘Luce, please, I really don’t know what to think,’ Jack said, rubbing his hands over his face. He paused, looked at Lucy again. ‘Only that I need to take some time out from all of this.’

Lucy was frozen, she couldn’t even utter another word.

And with that Jack grabbed a blanket from the bed, stalked over to the sofa, and settled down with his back turned. Their cosy little bolt-hole feeling as frosty as an igloo right now.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The next morning, Lucy stretched out an arm, gave a yawn, then opened her eyes, realising where she was: it wasn’t all some crazy Christmas dream, after all. But then she reminded herself – despite being snowed in at this gorgeous romantic castle – how it had all ended last night as a bit of a nightmare. Jack’s words haunting her, I need to take some time out from all of this. That sounded so much like a goodbye to her. She felt tears rising, unbidden. She snapped her eyelids shut for a few seconds, trying to trap those droplets.

From the bedroom window, Lucy could see that the snow was still thick on the ground with a hard yet stunning frost; the sky a clear, cold azure. A couple of icicles had formed, hanging as glassy shards from the external window top.

She then looked over at the sofa, saw only an empty seat and a rumpled blanket. Jack was evidently already awake, perhaps prowling the cold castle grounds.

Lucy edged slowly out of the bed. It was chilly in there. The radiator system must be from the Victorian age by the looks of it, and the log fire had gone out hours ago. But none of that was anywhere near as cold as the dreadful feeling inside her heart. After dressing quickly, she headed over to the main castle, discovering Joe and Ellie down in the tea rooms, with Rachel, Jill and Emma. Jack was still nowhere to be seen.

The scent of toast and coffee lured her in. She needed something warm and comforting. After coffee, with hot buttered toast and a catch-up with the breakfast gathering, Lucy offered to help with the washing up. She needed to keep busy, keep her mind off things.

Washing up completed, and with a little time to kill until they could be certain the lanes were passable, she decided to take a walk in the grounds. After the snow, it now looked like a frosty winter wonderland out there.

Wrapped up in her warm winter coat and gloves, finding herself in the formal garden of the castle, Lucy gazed around her with awe. A splintery brushwork of white hoar-frost and glassy ice was clinging to every plant, stone, hedge, glistening in the morning sunlight. Everything had changed since their arrival just twenty-four hours before. The stunning frost-tinged scenery, and her relationship with Jack.

She walked on between neat privet hedges, discovering rose bushes with their last autumn blooms now faded and frozen in ice. All was still, hushed, except for the crunch of frost under her feet. She couldn’t help but be entranced by it all. At a fountain where the water had frozen mid-flow, which looked like the most stunning ice sculpture, Lucy heard the sound of feet crunching behind her on the gravel path. She turned: Jack.

‘Hi.’ Her voice was soft, fragile.

‘Hey …’

‘It’s beautiful here, isn’t it? The frost, the sky, the plants held in ice.’

‘Yeah,’ Jack had to concede, feeling an emotional knot in his throat.

It wasn’t just the snow or the frost, nor the castle and its beautiful setting, it was how they’d felt about being together these past few months. And now it was all falling apart.

They stared at each other for a few heartfelt moments.

‘I’m setting off shortly,’ Jack announced simply, yet there was a sadness to his tone.

‘Oh …’ After everything he’d said last night, Lucy didn’t know which words to use or how to begin to pull him back to her … or, if she’d ever be able to. All she did know right now was that Jack needed his space. She had to give him time.

But would time ever be enough?

‘Will you be alright?’