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Let It Snow
Let It Snow

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Let It Snow

Язык: Английский
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Carola’s house was built on a slope so though the apartment was underground at the front it faced the back garden via French doors that allowed light to flood in. It was smaller than both the Peterborough semi and the Barcelona apartment she’d shared with Sergio, and Carola and her daughters lived above her, but she loved it. It was her space: a bedroom, a lounge/kitchen combo and a shower room. A bijou hallway led to steps up to Carola’s kitchen, but though that door was generally unlocked neither of them burst through it unless expected.

A burst of laughter wafted down from Carola’s part of the house and Lily grinned to hear Owen Dudley’s rich baritone chuckle. He’d only just progressed to staying over when Carola’s teenage girls, Charlotte and Emily, were at home. Carola and Owen had met on a dating site last winter and showed every sign of falling hard for each other. Lily was deeply glad. Carola had told her how flattened she’d been by her husband Duncan’s defection nearly three years ago.

Lily hopped out of bed and made for the shower, remembering last week when Carola’s happiness with Owen had prompted Duncan to ring and check that their daughters weren’t being neglected for ‘your new man’. Carola had been opening the door to Warwick, Alfie, Eddie and his dad Neil at the time but she hadn’t let that prevent her from hissing, ‘As you left the family for Sherri I don’t think you’re in a position to question me!’ The others had looked awkward at bearing witness to Carola arguing with her ex.

And on the theme of ‘awkward’ and exes … Lily frowned as she turned on the shower, her thoughts flitting to the tense conclusion to her Thursday evening shift at The Three Fishes when the woman called Hayley had turned up.

Though polite enough to Lily she’d obviously been there to talk to Isaac and the tense way he’d greeted her had made Lily decide on ‘ex’ as their most likely relationship status.

Throwing off her black PJs covered in pink hearts – a Christmas gift from Zinnia last year – Lily stepped under the hot shower and turned her face to the spray. She liked Isaac and couldn’t help being aware of his storybook ‘tall, dark and handsome’ looks and the tiny gold earring that put an edge on his groomed style. His eyes at once fascinated and unsettled her – dark and thoughtful, even brooding, she thought she read sadness in them. Had Hayley put it there? Immaculately turned out and obviously several years older than Isaac, she’d reminded Lily of a Cruella de Vil who’d finally got her glossy Dalmatian dog.

In contrast, after her shower Lily pulled on jeans and a purple jumper depicting a snowman in a Christmas pudding hat and opened her laptop to work on her designs for the British Country Foods stand at the Food, Lifestyle & Health show. British Country Foods was a Swiss company, despite their name, creating typically British baked goods and conserves. The Swiss loved their food and were international in their tastes.

She hummed ‘Let it Snow’ as she pulled up the files and let the other Christmas songs the Middletones would perform float through her mind. She’d hit on the idea of a singing group when tossing around ideas for the project. BCF had leapt at the idea and had quickly come up with a sponsorship package. Carola, who’d been in choirs when she was younger and whose daughter Charlotte was at the local music school, had not only involved herself but known exactly who to invite to join the group.

BCF’s stand would be in the food section, obviously, and would include product shelving, plinths for display and tables and chairs for meetings. It gave her a buzz to know that the physical versions of these had already been ordered from a provider local to British Country Foods in the Swiss canton of Zug (pronounced Zoog, Janice’s son Max Gasly had told her). Presently she was going over the elements designed to provide a British flavour. A loop on a TV screen would show the crosses of St George and St Patrick superimposing themselves on the saltire of St Andrew to form the Union Jack. Others would feature moody fade-ins/fade-outs of Welsh valleys, English farmland, the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland and Scottish mountains. BCF’s products were ethically produced and mindfully packaged and trade show focus was on growing their presence in perfectly chosen retail outlets and online stores.

On the other side of the coin, at the Schützenberg Christmas market the BCF stall would be aimed at selling products directly to the public – especially the Christmas line at this prime time for consumer spending. Apparently expat Brits would give their eye teeth for mince pies or jars of brandy butter, whilst Swiss people had an appetite for wholesome, ethically produced international foods. ‘Britishness’ was BCF’s USP.

The stall was to be provided by the organisers in the shape of a jolly red chalet and Lily was busy on an interior backdrop. Corporate branding would be low-key to take advantage of the local, crafty feel of the market but it would be there. It wasn’t the sort of thing a designer would normally be employed for but Lily was contracted on a whole-project basis. ‘Whole-project’ had never before included her leading a group of British village singers through Europe to provide cultural authenticity but so what? The company CEO Loris Aebi – known as Los or Los the Boss – was keen on encouraging grassroots arts. She couldn’t wait for her first trip to Switzerland. She hugged to herself a vision of sipping spicy glühwein in between crooning ‘White Christmas’ and ‘Mistletoe and Wine’, wrapped up in a parka and boots as smiling shoppers paused to listen.

It would be great to see Tubb again too. His spell of ill health had been alarming but she was reassured by his and Janice’s regular contact with The Three Fishes.

Would she ever feel the time was right to tell him she was his half-sister …?

Shaking off the question that she seemed to spend half her life wrestling with, she turned to perfecting the designs for the trade stand banners and ‘clings’, the film containing corporate branding that adhered to the stand. She sank into her work, making tiny tweaks to sizes or positions and the rest of the morning flashed by until her phone lit up with a FaceTime call and Max Gasly calling. Quickly, she picked up.

‘Hey! Just working on your stuff.’ She turned the phone to give him a flash of her laptop screen then turned it back towards herself.

Max’s image grinned at her, sandy hair sticking up on top of his head. ‘Great! Everyone’s loving your ideas. Sorry to call you on a Saturday but I just want to check we’re on schedule for final files.’

‘I’m sending you stuff for approval this morning. When you’ve okayed them they can go to print,’ said Lily.

‘Fantastic,’ he replied. ‘Oh, hang on.’ The image on her screen whooshed around for a couple of moments and when it steadied again a small beaming boy had appeared on Max’s lap.

Lily, recognising Max’s youngest son, also Janice’s grandson, beamed back. ‘Hello, Keir!’

‘Yo!’ Three-year-old Keir waved both his hands energetically. ‘I wiv Daddy! I got a car on my jumper that Grandma made me.’ He pulled at the royal blue jumper depicting a bright red car to make sure she understood.

‘It’s gorgeous, you lucky boy,’ Lily enthused.

Then the head of Keir’s five-year-old brother Dugal entered the shot, pushing in front of Keir. ‘I’ve got a dog on mine.’ Proudly, he stuck his chest out for Lily to admire.

It took a minute of negotiation before Max had the call to himself again. ‘Regarding the Middletones’ visit, I’ve asked my Swiss colleagues for suggestions of what you might like to do in your free time.’ Max’s image came nearer and then retracted as he picked up a notebook and pushed up his glasses. ‘Suggestions are: a visit into Zürich, a procession here in Schützenberg, another Christmas market, watching ice-skaters, a choir … Are these along the right lines?’

Lily beamed. ‘Oh, yes! Thank you. People can always opt out from things they don’t fancy.’

‘Great!’ Max looked pleased. ‘Garrick Tubb will be around too, of course.’

‘It will be great to get to know him.’ Max didn’t know how great, as to him Garrick was just his mum’s partner’s brother who he’d helped bring on board at British Country Foods last spring. Garrick had decided he wanted to live in Europe after many years in the US and Max had given his boss Garrick’s CV. Neither knew that Garrick was the half-brother Lily had yet to meet.

Max glanced behind him. ‘Mum and Tubb want to chat to you too, if that’s OK?’

Quickly checking the clock in the corner of her laptop screen, Lily agreed. ‘I’ve got a rehearsal after lunch but I’m OK till then. I’ve been wondering how Tubb is.’

They said their goodbyes and the image swung jerkily, then Lily was looking at her workmate Janice and her boss, Tubb, who had an arm along Janice’s shoulders and was looking relaxed and happy, though thinner than before his illness. ‘How’s everything going at the pub?’ he asked at once.

‘Did you get the decorations up?’ supplemented Janice.

The conversation became chaotic as Dugal and Keir appeared once more to claim adult laps and shout their news over Lily reassuring Tubb and Janice that all was well and the decorations were safely in place. She laughed when she realised the boys had begun to call her boss ‘Grand-Tubb’, which probably seemed logical to them as he was now partnered up with their grandma. It warmed Lily’s heart to see him so much part of a family. When she’d first begun work at The Three Fishes he hadn’t had much in his life apart from the pub. Now he was letting his body heal with Janice’s family and Garrick – his own brother and her half-brother – was living nearby. ‘How are you, Tubb?’ she asked.

He smiled his turned-down smile. ‘Fine, thanks. Taking the pills as prescribed and attending the local heart failure clinic. I fly home for an appointment with my UK consultant in January but hopefully the baby will be here and settled by then.’

‘And how is Ona?’ Lily enquired.

Janice pulled a worried face at the mention of her heavily pregnant daughter-in-law. ‘Getting frustrated by the placenta being badly positioned, so there’s a high risk of bleeding. She’s doing very little and they’re keeping a close eye on her but they’ve warned her they might have to induce. We’ll all be glad when the baby’s safely here.’

‘We getting a Kissmuss baby,’ Keir informed Lily happily. ‘A new one.’

Lily smothered a laugh. ‘That’s something to look forward to. I’m coming to Schützenberg to see you in a few weeks.’

Dugal’s little eyes flashed with interest. ‘Will you bring us presents?’

‘Dugal Gasly!’ Janice broke in. ‘People are more important than presents. We’re looking forward to seeing Lily and Carola and all of the singing group, aren’t we?’

Dugal nodded, but still looked as if he’d like to know about the presents.

After Lily had replied to a few more questions about how things were going at the pub and how she was finding Isaac – ‘Efficient and pleasant,’ she assured them – the call ended.

Almost immediately, Lily’s phone alerted her to a text from Carola that proved she wasn’t letting Owen distract her from the schedule. Fancy coming up for a sarnie before choir practice?

Very much! Will bring biccies, Lily sent back. After finishing her task and emailing Max as promised, she climbed the stairs to Carola’s kitchen where Owen was pulling on his coat and dropping a kiss on Carola’s blonde bob. Lily just had time to say, ‘Bye!’ before he disappeared out of the door.

Carola was a bit pink after the kiss. ‘Owen’s going to visit his mum. She’s not too well and he says she gets crotchety with visitors.’

‘Doesn’t sound like you’re missing much then,’ Lily joked, giving the older woman a hug. ‘Are you and Owen getting serious? He’s not going to stop you coming to Switzerland is he?’

Despite the obvious stars in her eyes Carola made a mock scream face. ‘Of course not. He’s not going to stop me doing anything – I had enough of that with Duncan.’

Lily dropped down beside Carola at the white glass kitchen table. ‘Extremely sensible. Shall we finalise the programme today so we can send it to the Performing Rights Society and fork over the fee for singing other people’s songs?’

Over tuna sandwiches and custard creams they ummed and ahhed about the respective merits of Cliff Richard’s ‘Mistletoe and Wine’ versus Paul McCartney’s ‘Wonderful Christmastime’, Slade’s ‘Merry Xmas Everybody’ or Wizzard’s ‘I Wish it Could be Christmas Everyday’. Carola wrote down ‘Walking in the Air’ from The Snowman and Lily crossed it out again. ‘That puts a lot of emphasis on the sopranos – us! You might be strong enough but I’m not sure I am.’

Carola nicked back the pen and wrote it in again. ‘Of course you’re strong enough! We don’t have to sing like choirboys to carry it off and we’re spoilt for sopranos anyway because we have Charlotte and Emily. I wish we had another bass to sing along with Neil, personally.’ She tapped the pen on her teeth.

Privately, Lily thought that Charlotte and Emily’s voices were pretty but not strong. Knowing Carola wouldn’t appreciate that view she just said, ‘The sponsorship budget was based on how many singers we could get into one minibus so people can’t expect the balance of a proper choir. Now, which carols are we going to include? The trouble with carols is that they’re so international they won’t give the British flavour Max is keen on. On the other hand, if we sing “Silent Night” then people might join in, which is always lovely,’ Lily pointed out. ‘Also, it’s easy so we’re good at it. It would have been nice to include that Polish carol Franciszka tried to teach us, as we have so many people of Polish descent in our region, but we had trouble even with the title, “Anioł Pasterzom Mówił”, let alone the rest of the words.’

Carola laughed. ‘Let’s stick to easy stuff. Have you heard how Tubb is, by the way?’

Lily was happy to update her and then the rest of the afternoon passed in a flash. Once the first Middletones arrived – Warwick, Eddie and Alfie – filled with all the noisy ebullience of seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds, Charlotte and Emily emerged from their rooms. The boys were all music student chums of Charlotte from the local performing arts college, Acting Instrumental. Eddie tuned his guitar. Warwick set his keyboard on its stand and plugged it in while Emily, only fourteen so still at school, chattered to him, beaming and giggling.

‘I’m going to have to watch Emily,’ Carola muttered. ‘She’s developing a crush on Warwick and a lad of eighteen is much too old for her.’

Neil – Eddie’s dad, turning up at the same time as Franciszka, who lived in Drake’s Close around the corner from Carola’s on the Bankside estate – gave her a reassuring grin. ‘I think Warwick’s got a girlfriend at college anyway.’

Soon they were ready to begin. ‘Let’s crash on with the carols,’ Lily suggested. ‘They’re a good warm-up and have lots of lovely harmonies.’ Lily and Carola arranged the songs between them, usually based on what the Middletones could sing best.

Eddie slung his guitar around his neck and Warwick perched on his stool in front of the silver keyboard. Carola took her place facing the group as a sort of unofficial leader. ‘We’ll begin with “Once in Royal David’s City”.’ She counted Warwick and Eddie in then the voices soared in to join them. Next came ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing’ and ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’ before they began on the Christmas pop songs.

Later, when they took a break to sip water and refuel on shortbread, they talked over what they’d wear to sing on their Swiss trip and decided on red bobble hats and scarves with black overshirts. Carola noted sizes and agreed to do the ordering, reflecting that it was as well that BCF was covering the expense.

In the second part of the afternoon they worked on ‘Walking in the Air’ – which even Lily had to agree was coming along nicely – and the flirty, dashing ‘Let it Snow’ to open a set. By the end of the afternoon they’d also settled most of the programme for the trade fair – a set of ten songs rounded off with a rousing rendition of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ – and knew how they’d expand the set for the Christmas market, which would be less formal and possibly lubricated by glühwein and eierkirsch – mulled wine or eggnog.

‘Right,’ Lily said as Franciszka hurried off because she’d promised to give her daughter a lift into Bettsbrough. ‘That was brilliant, thank you everyone. Hands up who’s looking forward to travelling to Switzerland!’ She laughed to see a forest of hands – two from each of the teenagers.

‘I still feel bad I can’t share the driving as I first promised,’ Neil admitted sheepishly. ‘My punishment’s affecting a lot more than just me.’ He hung his head.

Eddie pulled a face as he slid his guitar back into its gig bag. ‘Yeah, Dad’s Taxi is rubbish since you lost your licence.’ But he clapped his father on the shoulder sympathetically. Neil had had a heavy evening at a hotel with fellow sales reps at a ‘company jolly’ and the police had lain in wait with their breathalysers in the morning. Seven out of ten reps had retained sufficient alcohol in their blood to blow positive and one of them was Neil, who’d avoided unemployment by the skin of his teeth. He’d been offered reassignment in the Bettsbrough office at a lower grade but some of the others had found themselves looking for new companies to join.

Lily knew how terrible Neil felt about his lapse and though she hadn’t bargained for driving all the way from Cambridgeshire to central Switzerland gave him a consoling smile. ‘I’ll manage. We’ll make lots of stops so I can stretch my legs.’

Carola smiled apologetically too. ‘If only I could drive on the wrong side of the road. I get panic attacks at the thought.’

‘I’ll manage,’ Lily repeated. Once everyone had called goodbye she slipped down to her flat to change into black trousers and a polo top. She redid her hair, plaiting a section to tuck into her ponytail, watched TV while she made and ate an omelette then burrowed her way into the down-filled parka she’d bought ready for Switzerland and hurried through the village towards the pub, her hands tucked in her pockets against a wind that carried the scent of snow on its frozen edge.

Though it was barely the second week of November Christmas lights were appearing on houses and trees twinkling from windows. The outdoor illumination at The Three Fishes had been organised before Tubb left the country and it looked as if someone had cast a giant net of sparkling white lights over it, making the building shimmer.

Lily hurried in through the back door and was hanging up her coat when Isaac appeared and sat down at the desk in the alcove. He was all in black – shirt, tie and trousers – and his dark hair had a lustre like a crow’s wing. He gave her a quick smile. ‘So you came back despite that guy on Thursday.’

She returned his smile as she smoothed her ponytail, remembering the belligerence she’d encountered at Bar Barcelona without any of Sergio’s family showing any sign of noticing. ‘’Course. You must’ve had plenty at your last place – it was Juno Lounge, wasn’t it? Big, busy venue.’

He shrugged. ‘There, yes, but it’s different in a village pub.’

He turned to his laptop and Lily went through to the bar. Several tables in the dining area were already occupied and the bar was filling nicely considering it was only six o’clock. The Christmas lights reflected in glasses and beer pumps and even the smiling eyes of the customers. Tina was on duty too. She was the staff member who was licensed to deputise when Isaac was off. In her fifties, Tina was soft and round with a frizz of curls on top of her head, unflappable and efficient. She drove in from nearby Bettsbrough where she lived with her husband and two sons, all of whom seemed as affable as she whenever Lily encountered them.

Tina smiled at Lily. ‘Got quite a few bookings for the dining area tonight so listen for Chef’s bell when he needs service or he’ll go off on one.’

‘Got it,’ Lily said, taking an order for three pints of bitter and a sparkling water from a short man with a beard. The level of noise rose as more punters arrived for a Saturday evening’s entertainment. When Isaac reappeared in the bar Lily checked with him, ‘OK if I do a round with the raffle tickets if there’s a lull?’ The proceeds of the raffle went to the children’s party at the village hall.

He glanced up as he waited at the pumps for a stream of near-black Guinness to fill a pint glass. ‘Sure. I’ll get the stuff out of the safe for you.’

So Lily sold raffle tickets, pulled pints, ferried food, sanitised and relaid tables. Finally it was eleven o’clock, the bar was empty and Isaac was locking the doors behind the last customer. The kitchen staff had clattered out already.

As Isaac took the till reading and released the till drawer ready to cash up, Lily and Tina began to clean tables and rearrange chairs. Then Tina wriggled into a silver-grey puffa coat that made her look a bit like an airship, shouted goodbye and stepped outside. Lily was about to follow when Isaac reappeared, with Doggo bouncing at his heels. When he saw Lily Doggo gave a single bark, trotting over with his tail whipping as if he’d remembered that they’d been introduced on Thursday night.

‘Hello, Doggo, I didn’t know you were still about.’ Lily stroked his smooth head and he put his ears back to enjoy the fuss. She glanced up at Isaac, his tie gone and collar undone, hair beginning to flop into his eyes. It was the first time she’d seen him anything but perfectly groomed but she liked the tousled look. It was as if he’d let his guard down and allowed end-of-a-long-day fatigue to show.

Isaac smiled. ‘He’s living with me now. I’ve cleared it with Mr Tubb.’

Lily straightened. ‘I assumed he was Hayley’s.’

‘If he’d been just Hayley’s his name would have been Rolex or Gucci,’ he said drily, then hesitated. ‘I’m sorry if you found the atmosphere strained on Thursday. Hayley and I used to be together. I felt defensive about the pub being deserted when she swanned in. She has a brilliant career as general manager of a casino.’ He smiled crookedly.

Lily felt a burst of sympathy. ‘I can imagine how I’d have felt if it had been my ex because Bar Barcelona was always jumping.’

Isaac’s expression relaxed. ‘Galling, isn’t it? It’s bad enough that she knows Mr Tubb and it was her who suggested me for this job.’

Lily grinned. ‘Tubb might have shut when the pub emptied.’

Isaac quirked a brow. ‘That would have been worse. I can only imagine how I’d have felt if she’d found this place shut early.’ He grimaced. ‘Anyway, she brought me Doggo, which is fantastic. I’m off on Monday and Tuesday so I’m looking forward to finding some long walks.’

‘Just stick to the footpaths when you’re crossing the Carlysle Estate because it’s private land.’ Lily pulled on her outdoor things and prepared to brave the cold weather. ‘See you tomorrow evening if I can move after having Sunday lunch with my parents.’

‘Enjoy it.’ He began to turn away, Doggo at his heels. ‘My dad’s not well so I try never to visit my folks at mealtimes because Mum’s his carer and has enough to do. Maybe I’ll invite them here. They might enjoy it.’

Walking home, snug in her parka despite the icy air, Lily thought that it was nice of Isaac to give his folks a treat if they were in difficult circumstances. She turned her mind to her own parents, Roma and Patsie. After what Zinnia had said on Thursday she definitely needed a word with them.

Chapter Four

Late on Sunday morning, Lily’s snazzy purple Peugeot hatchback whizzed her through the country lanes on her way out of the village. Bettsbrough’s outer ring road took her past a retail park fronted by an enormous plastic snowman in a tinsel scarf and spat her out on the dual carriageway to Peterborough. The hedgerows were winter-bare and glistening with frost. The sky was blue and she half regretted not getting up in time for a walk this morning.

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