Page 59 of Mistletoe and Mulled Wine at the Christmas Campervan

Was he asking about the roads, the snow? But it felt like he was asking would she be okay without him.

She gave a brief nod. ‘I’ll wait a while. Let the roads settle.’

‘Take care, Luce.’

As she watched him walk away, with her eyes now misting, she wondered if this was Jack’s way of saying goodbye.

As Lucy watched Jack drive off, flashbacks rose up unbidden: of that beautiful morning together in Dunstanburgh; meeting him that first time at the posh birthday bash – her first event booking – hah, where he’d got punched storming in to protect her; sunny days drinking cocktails in the dunes; and his unforgettable shoreline supper when he wore full dinner jacket attire, them laughing as they got drenched by the incoming tide … this all played through her mind. It couldn’t end like this, not over some silly misunderstanding. Could it?

Or, she considered, was it some cover for deeper misgivings, this need in Jack to not be tied down? She felt heavy with fear. This gorgeous but exasperating man was far deeper than he first appeared, she mused, thinking back to his cocky cocktail barman persona when she’d first met him. He was as deep as an ocean, it seemed.

She tried her best to shake off this spiral of melancholy. It was time for her and All Fired Up to get away soon too. After giving her thanks to the castle team, and checking on the latest road update with Joe, steadily through snow-caked lanes, she began to find her way home. Yes, she’d give Jack the space he needed for now. But soon, if he was still being stubborn, closed off to her, she’d go and knock on his door, go and see him and try and put the record straight. She wasn’t giving in that easily. Their relationship was worth far too much.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

‘Jack, are you alright?’

He was sat at his parents’ kitchen table, overlooking their now winter-bare garden. It was a couple of days after the castle lock-in.

‘It’s just … you’ve been awfully quiet and well, slightly grumpy, I have to say,’ his mother continued.

‘You mean more than normal,’ he replied drily.

‘Well, yes. You know you can always tell me anything … If you need to talk …?’

‘I’m fine, Mum, honestly,’ he brushed it off.

‘Okay, well … anytime …’ she let the words hang like an offering. ‘Another cup? Your dad’ll be a while yet, he’s off playing golf with Tony.’

‘Yeah, go on then, why not.’ He wasn’t in any particular rush, and had headed over there purposefully, feeling strangely in need of some company. Back home at his lodgings, with Matt out at work, it had been way too quiet.

His mum fiddled on with the kettle, while he watched a lone robin hopping about on the bird table, which was always well stocked with crumbs.

‘How was the Christmas event at the castle the other day, did it go well?’

‘Yeah, it was fine, I got some good takings,’ he said, non-committal.

‘And, how’s that new girlfriend of yours? Lucy, isn’t it?’

Jack’s brow furrowed. Just the thought of Lucy made him feel sore emotionally.

‘So, how’s it all going? You seem to have been spending quite a lot of time together,’ Denise persevered.

‘Yeah, it’s fine, she’s great, she’s …’ Jack stuttered, his blank tone hiding a torrent of feelings. All the while he was thinking, She’s beautiful, talented, witty, wise and … she makes my soul sing. ‘But, well …’

Jack looked around the room. His mother had put out her Christmas decorations. A muted festive effort, of silvers and cool whites, but stylish nonetheless. They hadn’t gone large on Christmas for ten years now; just showed it their passing respects, muddled through, holding hands with their grief, and moved on to another year.

‘Well, what? Jack, you’re not thinking of bolting again … like you always do?’ There was a pause. His mother knew him well. Jack said nothing. ‘What are you so afraid of, Jack?’

‘Nothing. It’s just not working out like I thought …’

Denise refilled the teapot, then looked up. ‘It doesn’t mean you don’t get hurt, Jack, shutting yourself away … not getting too close, it just means that you end up hurting yourself,’ her voice softened. ‘Missing out on the chance of it ever leading to something bigger. This girl means something to you, doesn’t she?’

Jack bit the inside of his mouth. The lie that was forming, and on the tip of his tongue, not sitting easily.

Denise took the seat opposite him after passing him his mug. ‘You know, it’s not always easy … love, but if you never let it in, you’ll miss out on so much, Son. I think you deserve more than that. In fact, I think you owe it to yourself to give it a try.’ She gave a gentle smile. Her lines more apparent than usual in the pale winter sunlight that splayed through the French doors. She had lived, she had lost, she had loved … still loved.

‘Me and your dad … well, it’s been tough at times, as well you know … but we’ve muddled through, and we were always there for each other when it mattered. That’s what got us through, that’s what gave us strength.’