Love and Lies at the Village Christmas Shop Page 16

  ‘Yeah, that’s not gonna work,’ I say firmly, but something different is going on in my head, which I don’t dare say out loud to Gaz, because he’ll think I’m an idiot.

  ‘We’re going to destroy him, aren’t we?’ he says confidently. ‘He’s got some town hall meeting in a few days. I thought we could go, make clear to everyone that we’re not happy about what he’s doing.’

  ‘Sure,’ I reply. While I still feel confident that we’re going to fight this, the thought of kicking up a fuss at his meeting just feels wrong, especially when I’ve been getting on so well with him recently.

  Yesterday we had a great day together, we put all our issues to one side and just got on like normal people, and it was amazing. Seb, out of business mode, is actually a great guy, and the more I see that side of him, the more I wonder if he can even still go through with his plan after befriending me.

  ‘So this thing is tonight?’ Gaz checks.

  ‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘Early evening.’

  ‘You look all dopey, staring at that dress,’ Gaz points out with a sigh. ‘Just to refresh your memory, the bloke who bought it is gonna knock this place down. And, as soon as he realised you were trying to stop him, he made things even harder for you by ruining what we’d done, getting a famous Santa Claus to replace me at Wilson’s.’

  ‘I know, Gaz, don’t worry. You don’t need to remind me. It is a beautiful dress, though. No harm in wearing it, is there?’

  ‘Suppose not,’ he replies. ‘You’ll look fit in it – or beautiful, or whatever isn’t sexual harassment in the workplace.’

  I smile, proud of Gaz for making an effort to be more politically correct. I don’t think he’s a bad person, or a sexual deviant; I think he’s just been brought up around lad lads, thinking it’s OK to talk to women like that. I’m sure he thinks he’s being harmless, but I’m glad to have steered him away from that mentality.

  ‘Would you mind if I finished early today?’ I ask. ‘I could go to Holly’s, see if she’ll do my hair and make-up for me.’

  ‘Of course, boss,’ he replies. ‘It’s not like we’re gonna be busy, and it’s not like anyone is gonna be here to see Santa – thanks to your buddy, Seb.’

  ‘True,’ I reply. ‘I appreciate it.’

  After a quiet half-day in the shop (which Gaz was constantly reminding me is all Seb’s fault) I figure out which of the three dresses fit me best, carefully zip it back up in its bag, and head for Holly’s, because she’s way better at hair and make-up than I’ll ever be.

  ‘Oh my God!’ Holly blurts, seeing me in my dress. ‘That’s…like something from a movie. And surprising you with it is like something out of a movie.’

  ‘Yeah, except he didn’t just magically know my size, he sent me three different ones.’ I laugh.

  ‘What a man,’ she says with a sigh. ‘Sexy, loaded, built like a Men’s Health cover model, romantic – remind me what’s wrong with him?’

  ‘He’s knocking down our childhood home?’ I offer. ‘And he’s not being romantic, he just feels sorry for me because I’m a poor Cinderella with no dress and no money to get one.’

  ‘That makes him Prince Charming,’ she points out.

  ‘Does that make you my ugly sister?’ I tease.

  ‘Oi, I’m nothing less than your fairy godmother,’ she replies.

  ‘And I’m Perla, the mouse,’ Chloe joins in, which I think is a reference to the Disney movie.

  ‘Wow, you really are always listening, aren’t you?’ I laugh, having not even realised she’d entered the room.

  ‘Chloe, why don’t you go get your princess dress, and I’ll take a picture of you and Auntie Ivy together.’

  Holly waits for Chloe to charge off before speaking.

  ‘That should buy us five minutes,’ she says hurriedly. ‘I told Lee about our little surprise. He jokes that next time he leaves for work, maybe we should keep our clothes on…but, really, he’s just as over the moon as I am now.’

  ‘That’s amazing,’ I tell her, squeezing her hand. ‘When are you going to tell the kids?’

  ‘We thought we might wait for the 12-week mark, just to be safe,’ she says.

  ‘Good idea.’

  ‘OK, what are we doing with this hair?’ she asks, wrapping a towel around my shoulders.

  I already have a face full of make-up – like something from a YouTube tutorial, that I’d never be able to get right on my own – and now I have my dress on, which Holly insisted I do before she did my hair, just in case I ruined my hair, putting my dress on.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I’m thinking red carpet waves,’ she suggests, clipping up my hair in sections.

  ‘I trust your judgement,’ I reply.

  ‘So, what did you say to Seb?’ she asks.

  ‘I didn’t know what to say; it was so unexpected. I texted him and thanked him so much for helping me out.’

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘He said I was welcome and asked me if I wanted a lift tonight. So he’s picking me up here.’

  ‘Ooh,’ Holly teases. ‘Things are getting serious.’

  ‘Shut up.’ I laugh.

  What he actually said was, in light of my recent near miss with a driving ban, maybe it would be best if he drove me there tonight. Which reminds me…

  ‘Oh, I’ve got a box full of Christmas cake in my bag for you.’

  ‘Me?’ Holly replies. ‘I don’t like the stuff.’

  ‘Do the kids?’

  ‘They kids would sooner eat Play-Doh.’

  ‘Lee?’

  ‘You know, I don’t know,’ Holly replies.

  ‘Well, the stuff lives for years without going off, it seems. If he doesn’t, you’re welcome to chuck it.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She laughs. ‘You didn’t make it then?’

  ‘No, no, no,’ I say quickly, not wanting my name put to such a repulsive dessert. ‘I did the charity tasting thing yesterday – well, I didn’t, Seb ate mine for me.’

  ‘Ivy has a crush,’ Holly sings. ‘Look at you, you’re all doe-eyed and your cheeks are all rosy.’

  ‘That’s just the make-up,’ I say.

  ‘Sure it is,’ she replies. ‘Except I didn’t use blusher.’

  Holly finishes my hair and blasts me with hairspray.

  ‘There we go,’ she says, holding up a mirror for me to examine myself.

  ‘Wow…’ I blurt. ‘Holly, thank you. I look so…not like me.’

  ‘You should glam up more often,’ she tells me. ‘You look amazing.’

  ‘It’ll be an improvement on the reindeer dressing gown Seb saw me in the first time we met.’

  ‘Erm, what?’ my sister asks.

  ‘It’s not as bad as it sounds…or maybe it is. I’d overslept, and the shop was never busy that time of day, so rather than rush to get dressed, I made myself a warm drink and got stuck into my new book…’

  ‘Oh, you and books.’ My sister laughs. ‘So he walked in on you like that?’

  ‘He did,’ I say. ‘And…never mind.

  ‘No, go on.’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ I insist.

  ‘My twintuition is telling me it’s something.’

  ‘No, you’re just prying.’ I laugh. ‘OK, fine…he kissed me, under the mistletoe, before he left.’

  My sister’s eyes light up and her jaw drops. ‘Sexy Seb kissed you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Shhh.’

  ‘He’s kissing you, he’s buying you dresses – he likes you.’

  ‘No, he’s trying to get me onside,’ I tell her. ‘I told you he’s donated loads of money to the garden centre – they’ve got a movie Santa Claus there, raising money for kids.’

  ‘That’s just business.’ She dismisses me with a bat of her hand.

  ‘Yeah, I keep hearing that, but it’s my business that his “just business” is having an effect on.’

  We’re interrupted by a knock on the door.

  ‘That’s probably Seb,’ I say
. ‘Do not say anything.’

  ‘Of course I won’t,’ she replies, hurrying to the door to let him in.

  ‘Seb.’ She beams. ‘My gosh, look at you, you look amazing.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he says, flashing his dimples.

  Seb steps inside and when he turns to see me, I see his jaw drop.

  ‘Oh, God, do I look daft?’ I ask.

  ‘You look incredible,’ he tells me. ‘Mesmerising.’

  ‘You have great taste in dresses,’ Holly tells him.

  ‘I’m glad one of them fit,’ he says. ‘I had no idea about women’s sizes, so I just bought three.’

  ‘“Just bought three”,’ Holly teases.

  ‘Just three.’ He laughs. ‘I’m not a billionaire.’

  ‘Anyway, shall we go?’ I interrupt.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ he replies.

  ‘Well, have a good time, behave yourselves, don’t keep her out too late, and don’t get her pregnant,’ Holly jokes.

  By the time we get to Seb’s car, I’m blushing again.

  ‘So, remind me what’s happening tonight?’ he asks.

  ‘It’s just dinner and a silent auction,’ I tell him. People pay for tickets, to raise money for charity. You don’t pay for tickets if you donate a thing or a skill to the auction.’

  ‘I’m giving an hour of one-on-one business coaching,’ he tells me. ‘Prue came up with it.’

  ‘Yeah, she came up with one for me too: an “expertly” decorated Christmas tree, for next year.’

  ‘Yours sounds more fun,’ he replies. ‘Where am I headed?’

  ‘Yorkshi,’ I tell him. ‘Over on Hope Island. Don’t worry, I’ve checked the causeway times – we’re good until 1.30 a.m. They have to plan these sorts of things in advance, if they’re expecting people to attend events on the island.’

  ‘I don’t mind, my B&B is there,’ he says. ‘What’s Yorkshi?’

  ‘It’s a Yorkshire-themed sushi place. I’ve always wanted to go, but I’ve never really had the excuse.’

  ‘I’ve always eaten out,’ he tells me. ‘Never really been able to cook. But I’ve never had Yorkshire sushi, so this should be interesting.’

  We arrive at Yorkshi, where a red carpet has been laid out. Everyone is having their photo taken on the way in, so Seb and I have ours snapped together, arm in arm.

  Inside, the large room has been decked out with silver and blue Christmas decorations, with twinkling fairy lights in all directions. Tables and chairs are set out, but there’s no assigned seating. Servers are doing the rounds with plates of both bizarre and incredible-looking things to eat – a mixture of sweet and savoury.

  I take one of the sweet strawberry rice flavoured cones from the plate – in a rush to get straight to dessert, as always. It’s just amazing. Such a cool and unique idea, and executed to perfection.

  Prue comes rushing over to us.

  ‘Ivy, Sebastian, hello,’ she says. Prue is wearing a floor-length silver dress, embellished with blue glitter, making her look like part of the décor. ‘The silent auction has started, so make sure to get your votes in.’

  ‘Oh, we will,’ I tell her, although I won’t. I don’t exactly have disposable income at the moment.

  ‘Everyone has been so generous this year,’ she says. ‘Wilson’s recently had a large donation from a mystery businessman, which they’re very kindly using to help us with our chosen charities too.’

  ‘Oh, I heard about that,’ Seb says.

  ‘Yes, it’s so amazing. Between us—’ Prue leans in to whisper, first glancing either side to make sure no one else is listening ‘—it was Alfie Barton. His cider business has been doing really well lately and he wanted to share some of his success.’

  I swallow hard. So it wasn’t Seb.

  ‘That’s very generous,’ Seb says.

  ‘Every little bit helps,’ Prue tells us, leaving us to schmooze with more people.

  ‘You OK?’ Seb asks me. I smile at him as I watch him swipe a mini Yorkshire pudding stuffed with gravy. ‘Want one?’

  ‘Oh, in this dress, I’d better not.’ I laugh.

  Seb grabs one anyway. ‘Here’s the plan,’ he starts. ‘You’re going to open your mouth and I’m going to carefully feed you this Yorkshire pudding. I not only promise not to get any on your dress but, if I do, I’ll go get one of the backup dresses.’

  ‘OK,’ I say with a smile. ‘I, erm, I sort of owe you an apology.’

  ‘Oh?’ he replies.

  ‘When I found out someone had donated to the garden centre so they could get a new Santa Claus, I thought it was you, and that you’d done it to thwart my efforts.’

  ‘I wouldn’t do that,’ he assures me. ‘I was just upset the other day when I thought you were spreading rumours about me, but it was an empty threat.’

  ‘I’m glad we’ve cleared the air,’ I tell him.

  ‘Me too,’ he replies. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a silent bid to make.’

  I smile as I watch him head over to the auction table. There are a few things up for auction that I would absolutely love – a spa weekend, dinner here, a haircut at the swanky new place that’s just opened up on the island – but there’s no way I’d win anything. This place is full of Marram Bay’s richest residents (and little old me).

  I pop to the ladies’ room, where I’m delighted to find a koi pond. The sides are clear, providing an unobstructed view of the pretty coloured fish. It’s mesmerising really. I sit and admire them for a moment, with the dumbest grin on my face. Suddenly, Seb seems like a different person. He’s sweet and charming, but in a way that feels genuine. He isn’t mentioning the shop or his project at all – and given the recent news that it wasn’t him who funded the new Santa Claus, I can’t help but feel like he might have had a change of heart. I don’t know; I just feel like there’s something between us. Something more important than business.

  I check my make-up in the mirror – it’s still flawless. I don’t know how my sister does it. When I do my own, it never looks amazing, and it gets steadily worse as the day goes on. Then again, I don’t spend as much money as Holly does on things like primers and finishing sprays. With everything where it is supposed to be, I head back out into the main room in the hope of eating some more Yorkshire sushi.

  As the evening goes on, there’s a real merry buzz in the air, the kind you only seem to get at festive parties. It’s a wonderful kind of merry too, not the debauched kind you see in the movies, at wild office Christmas parties. I’ve never had a work Christmas party – I suppose because, not only is it Christmas every day, but for the most part it’s only me working there. I might do it this year, although the idea of celebrating, just Gaz and me, when there really is nothing to celebrate, is probably going to be more than a little awkward. Perhaps I’ll have something for my inner circle: Gaz, Holly, the kids…maybe even Seb.

  Speak of the devil. Seb walks over to me and hands me a glass of champagne.

  ‘Someone just bought me this, but I’m driving,’ he says. ‘It’s all yours.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, taking the glass from him. It’s very kind of him not to drink, just so he can drive me home later.

  ‘If I could have everyone’s attention, please,’ Prue calls out. ‘Now that the silent auction is over I want to tell everyone that this year we’ve raised a record-breaking amount of money, and it’s largely down to one very generous bid. Congratulations to Mr Sebastian Stone, who has donated a whopping £5,000 for a Christmas tree decoration session with Ivy Jones, from Christmas Every Day. A round of applause for Mr Stone, please, ladies and gentlemen.’

  I look at Seb, my eyes wide with shock – my mouth even wider.

  ‘You paid £5,000 to have me decorate your Christmas tree?’ I ask in amazement.

  ‘It’s for charity,’ he says casually. ‘Anyway, it’s a big job. I’m sponsoring the big Christmas tree, at the top of Main Street, next year. Except I’m going to see about getting an even bigger one, and I want you t
o decorate it.’

  I just blink.

  ‘Not physically,’ he insists. ‘I don’t expect you to climb a 30-foot tree, to place a star on top. But I want you to design it, decide what should go on it, et cetera.’

  ‘That’s…amazing,’ I tell him. ‘I thought I was going to wind up in a stranger’s living room, putting tinsel on an artificial tree. This is amazing!’

  I grab Seb and hug him. Even in my heels, I’m still much shorter than he is, so my face just presses into his body, but I squeeze him as hard as I can.

  ‘It’s nothing.’ He laughs, wiggling his arms free from mine to wrap them around me.

  ‘Sebastian,’ Prue interrupts. ‘We were hoping to get a photograph of you.’

  ‘I’ll be right back,’ he tells me.

  I watch as Seb disappears with Prue. That was so generous of him, in so many ways. Not only has he given a huge amount of money to good causes, but it is also going to be an absolute honour to dress the town tree. My head is so full of ideas already – I can’t wait.

  I know what I need to celebrate: more sweet sushi. Now that most people are bored of eating, servers are no longer circulating with plates; instead plates are just lying around so that guests can help themselves.

  I move from plate to plate, trying to find the sweet ones, finally spotting them at the end of a table. As I approach the plate, I see Seb chatting with a few of the town’s other businessmen.

  ‘Hoping to finalise the purchase in the New Year,’ he says. ‘And I’ll move the bulldozers in that week. I’d like a speedy turnaround.’

  And just like that, it feels like a knife has been driven into my heart. Seb, who I thought was being so lovely with me – who maybe might be changing his mind about knocking down my shop – never had any intentions to change his plans. He’s just been keeping me sweet, distracting me while he carries on making business moves. I’ve been such an idiot.

  I fetch my coat from the cloakroom and ask the host to call me a taxi. All I want to do is get out of here.

  I’m nearly home when Seb texts me, asking where I am. I send him a blunt message saying that I’ve gone home. A lift home from him would be just another one of his empty gestures. I feel so stupid for thinking he was being nice to me, but I’m glad that I have realised now, before it’s too late.