Underneath the Christmas Tree

Having set the matchmaking wheels in motion, I made sure I stayed out of the way as much as possible during the next few days. Emboldened by my encouragement, I knew Maya wouldn’t waste a moment in finding ways to convince Ned that starting a romance with her wouldn’t jeopardise their professional relationship. And, even though I knew that, should she succeed, it would further my cause, I had no inclination to witness either her endeavours or their outcome.

‘Knock, knock.’

‘Hey Noah,’ I said, looking up to find him peeping around the temporary screen I had set up in the storage area at the back of the barn.

I had been trying to keep my new project under wraps, but with limited success. Everyone had been popping in and out, and sneaking a look, aside from Ned. Once he’d got wind that I was making something which would further enhance Wynter’s seasonal feel he told me he would rather wait and see the finished result.

‘How’s it going?’ Noah asked.

‘This is the last one,’ I told him, stretching out my back. ‘What do you think?’

‘Inspired,’ he said, clapping his hands together.

‘Now all I have to do is fix them to the carts and we’ll be in business.’

The ply sheets had been, thanks to Maya’s dad, cut into the shape of sleighs which I had further transformed by painting bright red and decorating to look like the real thing. I had also added, in flowing white script, the words, Wynter’s Trees Transport along the sides. I had enough to bolt on to the sides of each cart, hopefully giving them the appearance of real miniature sleighs and I further hoped I might be able to encourage Bandit to pull one for long enough to get some video footage and a photo or two to send to the local press.

‘You’re so clever, Liza,’ Noah gushed.

‘Thanks,’ I self-consciously said, struggling to accept the compliment. ‘To be honest, I’m surprised Dad hadn’t come up with something like this years ago.’

‘From what I can remember,’ said Noah, cocking his head. ‘He was more practical than creative. The decorative flourishes are definitely more your forte, my love.’

Dad had said something similar the day he drove over to see me for what turned out to be the last time. I hastily pushed aside the memory and forcefully blinked away the tears which always arrived whenever it managed to squeeze its way in.

‘Thanks, Noah.’ I said again before changing the subject. ‘Have you and Michael finally recovered from your stag night experience?’

Noah rolled his eyes and shook his head.

‘Just about,’ he said, with a shudder. ‘I don’t know what my brother was thinking, insisting that we tagged along, although actually, some good has come out of it.’

‘Oh?’

‘We’ve talked practically every day since,’ he confided, sounding pleased. ‘We’d drifted apart a bit after I came out, but we’re closer now than we have been in a long time. And he really likes Michael, which has made Mum happy too.’

‘That’s fantastic.’

‘It is,’ he agreed. ‘It’s nice to feel that he needs me again. Only this morning, I was calming his nerves.’

‘Pre-wedding jitters?’

‘Mmm,’ Noah nodded. ‘I told him to follow his heart. Not that he’s really having doubts, but that’s always the best course of action, isn’t it?’

I hoped that was a rhetorical question because I tended to follow my head and good old-fashioned common sense, rather than my heart. I had adopted the strategy the day I left school. Hearts, I had realised by then, were vulnerable organs. Mum’s had let her down, and mine had been irreparably damaged by her death, it was then further crushed by Dad’s decision to move us and then stamped all over by Chelsea. I was better off ignoring it.

Of course, it had taken a further blow after Dad’s crash and since arriving back I’d had no choice but to acknowledge the reaction it had whenever Ned was in the vicinity, but thanks to my head coming up with the plan to get him and Maya together which would enable me to soon be on my way, it was back under control again.

‘I mean,’ Noah carried on, ‘the heart wants what the heart wants, and following your head is all well and good but it can be a bit soulless, don’t you think?’ He didn’t wait for me to answer. ‘When it comes to matters of love, it’s the heart that counts. Now,’ he said, with a nod to the sleighs, ‘do you want me to give you a hand to bolt these on?’

Everyone had left by the time Noah and I had finished and with Ned away on business elsewhere again, I decided to line the carts up outside so they looked poised for action. There would be no way he could miss them when he came over to the office the following morning and I hoped he’d like them as much as I did. Using ply had ensured the additional weight was minimal and I had attached them high enough to ensure there was decent ground clearance.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ I frowned at Bandit who growled when I let him out of the office.

I hadn’t had him sit with me while I had been painting because the fumes had been a bit on the strong side and then I’d ended up leaving him a little longer so he didn’t get under mine and Noah’s feet while we finished up. I hadn’t realised he was going be so put out.

‘It’s been for your own good,’ I told him, but he shot round the side of me and straight out into the yard.

Perhaps he’d read my mind about being the Wynter’s Trees poster pooch and was making himself scarce before I had a chance to hook him up to a sleigh.

‘Bandit!’ I shouted after him as he bypassed the lodge and headed straight for the plantation. ‘It’ll be great publicity!’ But he didn’t stop. ‘Oh, for pity’s sake.’

I was in no mood to go chasing after him in the dark. Not when a hot bath and lazy supper beckoned. I was looking forward to an evening alone where I wouldn’t have to spend all of my time trying not to look at Ned.

‘Come back you crazy dog!’ I bellowed, but to no avail.

Grabbing a torch and locking the barn door, I turned up the collar of my coat, swore a bit and tramped off after him. I hadn’t made it far when I realised he’d stopped running and switched his efforts to barking madly. I quickly followed the sound. He’d got surprisingly far, and I was out of breath when I finally reached him.

‘What on earth are you playing at?’ I scolded, but Bandit was not alone.

Cowering behind the tree he was guarding was someone that I first assumed was a man, but it turned out, when I shone my torch in his face, was a tall teenager.

‘Jesus,’ he winced, screwing his eyes up against the glare.

‘Who the hell are you?’ I scowled.

‘No one,’ he flinched as Bandit took a step closer, further buoyed up by my presence. ‘I’m no one. Call this bloody dog off, will you?’

‘Not until you tell me what you’re doing here.’

‘I’m not doing anything!’

‘You most certainly are,’ I retaliated. ‘You’re trespassing on private property.’

Bandit let out another bark and lunged forward.

‘Bandit,’ I said sharply. ‘Here.’

To my astonishment, he stopped barking and sat down. With no lead to hand, I was relieved he was willing to do as he was told. I wondered if the same could be said for the sulky looking lad I had no idea what to do with.

‘I know I shouldn’t be here,’ he said, sounding mulish, ‘but I’m not doing any harm.’

‘I’ll be the one to decide that. Come out from behind that tree and bring anything you’ve got, or taken, with you.’

He did as I asked, in spite of Bandit’s low growl and I shone my torch around the tree. I couldn’t see anything that shouldn’t be there.

‘I haven’t pinched anything, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ he quietly said. ‘I’ve just come here to walk.’

‘Walk?’

I didn’t believe that for a second. I wondered if this was the culprit who had been responsible for the increased security around the farm.

‘Yeah,’ he sniffed, burying his hands which were gloveless, into his jacket pockets. ‘Walk.’

‘But you must have walked miles just to get here,’ I pointed out, as another thought occurred. ‘Unless you’re not alone?’

If he’d got a lift, and they’d parked a vehicle out of sight then the trees could be harbouring an accomplice, or even two, that I hadn’t seen. I quickly shone the torch around, but then realised that Bandit would still be in guard dog mode if there were more people hanging about.

‘I am alone,’ the lad said, ‘and it’s not all that far cross-country from the village.’

‘Which village?’ I frowned.

‘Wynmouth,’ he sniffed again. ‘I walked from Wynmouth.’

‘But why?’ I gaped. ‘That is far. Really far. It’s literally miles away.’

It was quite an undertaking, even more so when you weren’t properly dressed for the weather which, taking in the fabric of his jacket, he wasn’t.

‘Like I said,’ he shrugged. ‘I just fancied a walk.’

‘You’ll have to do better than that if you don’t want me to call the police,’ I said, reaching for my mobile, even though I knew there was no signal among the trees.

‘You’re not going to call the police from here, are you?’ he tutted.

Not liking the change in the lad’s tone, Bandit stood up again, but didn’t bark. Thankfully his change in posture, was enough to weaken the impostor’s regained attitude.

‘I often come here,’ he relented, his shoulders sagging, ‘and to the reserve, but no one usually sees me.’

‘What do you come here for?’

I couldn’t interrogate him for walking around the reserve because that was open to everyone, whereas Wynter’s Trees wasn’t. Not generally after dark anyway.

‘Like I keep telling you, just to walk,’ he explained. ‘It’s so peaceful here. No one to moan at me or nag me. I can just walk up and down a bit. The trees smell nice. I used to come here with my nan when I was little.’

Suddenly he looked more like a small boy, and a vulnerable one, than a bolshy teen already the size of a man.

‘Come on,’ I said, moving off, ‘let’s go back to the lodge. It’s freezing out here.’

The lad didn’t move and I turned to look at him.

‘Don’t even think about running off,’ I told him, my eyes on Bandit. ‘He’d hunt you down in a heartbeat and he’s got an extremely high prey drive.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means it’s in his instinct to take a chunk out of you if he catches you.’

Once inside, I added a log to the burner, leaving the door open to further spread the warmth and got out two mugs, while the lad rubbed his hands in front of the flames, closely watched by my canine companion. So much for my evening of relaxation. I had no idea what I was going to do with him, but my years of teaching told me there was something troubling him. Why else would he be tramping over the countryside in winter to walk around some rows of Christmas trees?

‘Tea, coffee, or a hot chocolate?’ I asked him.

‘Nothing,’ he shrugged. ‘I really should be getting back.’

‘Well, I’m having a drink,’ I told him. ‘Because I’m freezing and it will warm me up.’

‘Coffee then,’ he said. ‘Black, no sugar.’

‘I’m having hot chocolate,’ I said. ‘It’s just as easy to make two as one.’

‘That then,’ he said. ‘Thanks.’

I handed him a mug of marshmallow-topped hot chocolate and a spoon and sat on the sofa while he sat cross-legged in front of the fire with Bandit for company.

‘He’s all right really, isn’t he?’ the lad said, giving him a tentative stroke.

‘He’s wonderful,’ I said.

Bandit edged closer and rested his head in the boy’s lap and my remaining concerns completely subsided. There couldn’t be much bad about him if Bandit had befriended him already.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked.

‘Liam,’ he said, taking a sip from his mug before spooning out the melting mallows. ‘Crikey. This isn’t like any hot chocolate I’ve ever had before.’

‘Good, isn’t it?’

‘Amazing,’ he said, before looking up and replacing his smile with a frown. ‘Are you going to report me to the police?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t have invited you into my house and made you a drink if I was going to do that, would I?’

‘Dunno,’ he shrugged. ‘You did mention them before and, in my experience, adults often send out mixed messages. I don’t know where I stand with them half the time.’

There was a whole heap of heartache attached to those two sentences, and even though my heart went out to him, I wasn’t about to delve deeper. The last thing I needed was to get attached to a local waif and stray, even if my instinct was screaming at me to help him.

‘Well,’ I said, ‘you scared me half to death out there Liam and I had to say something to make sure I was getting the truth out of you, didn’t I?’

‘Did you believe what I said about me just wanting to walk then?’

‘Yes,’ I said, looking straight at him. ‘I did. My dad used to love walking through the trees, at all times of day and night and whatever the weather so I don’t consider you as crazy as some people might.’

He gave a huff, which might or might not have been amusement.

‘I remember your dad,’ he then said with a smile.

‘Most people around here do,’ I sighed.

‘You don’t like walking around the place then?’ he asked. ‘You are Liza Wynter, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I am and I haven’t had much chance to until now. I’ve been away for a while.’

‘You should try it,’ he quietly said, staring into the depths of his mug. ‘The sunsets over the reserve are stunning and there’s a spot on a mound in the plantation that’s amazing for watching the stars.’

I curled my legs up under me.

‘You really do know the place well, don’t you?’

‘I do,’ he nodded, turning red, ‘but I’ve never messed about with anything. I used to come up the drive, but then the bloke who’s usually here had that gate and cameras put up so I had to sneak in another way.’

‘If you’d asked him,’ I said, ‘he probably would have been happy for you look around, you know.’

‘Doubt it,’ he muttered.

‘How old are you, Liam?’

‘Fifteen,’ he told me. ‘And I can’t wait to leave school and get a job. Not that there’s much doing around here, especially if you come from a family like mine.’

I itched to ask what sort of family that was, but didn’t.

‘In that case,’ I said, making the suggestion, which took me completely by surprise, ‘how do you fancy working here for a bit?’

I knew Ned probably wouldn’t appreciate me taking on another member of staff but Liam clearly loved Wynter’s Trees and I could just tell the lad needed a helping hand. From the little he’d said, I could deduce that he had no faith in any of the adults in his life and needed something to focus on if he was going to stay out of trouble.

‘There are four Saturdays between now and Christmas,’ I calculated, ‘and it’s going to be busy here, what with shifting the trees and having more shoppers on-site. I can’t say exactly what you’ll be doing, but we could do with an extra pair of hands, if you fancy it.’

‘You’re kidding.’

I shook my head.

‘I was going to put a sign up in the barn this week,’ I fibbed, so he didn’t think I was making him a pity offer. ‘But if you take it on, I won’t need to. I might even be able to give you a few extra hours in the holidays.’

Liam’s expression was transformed.

‘How does five pound an hour sound?’

‘That’s more than the minimum wage for a sixteen year old!’

‘I know,’ I said, ‘and that’s because I’ll be expecting you to work extra hard. And once you’ve proved your worth, I might even throw in the occasional Liza Wynter hot chocolate special with your lunch.’

I thought that might be the clincher, but Liam wasn’t so sure.

‘I’ll have to check at home,’ he said, sounding suddenly less excited.

‘That’s all right,’ I said. ‘I’ll talk to your parents if you like.’

‘No,’ he said, draining his mug. ‘Best leave that to me.’

It was starting to drizzle so I drove him back to Wynmouth. He wouldn’t let me take him all the way to his house, so I dropped him off on the green.

‘And don’t worry about transport,’ I told him. ‘I can pick you up and drop you back if your mum and dad can’t run you.’

‘Why are you doing this?’ he asked, as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

He sounded heartbreakingly suspicious.

‘Because Wynter’s Trees needs some extra help,’ I said. ‘You obviously love the place as much as my dad did and that’s good enough for me.’

‘I’m really sorry about what happened to him,’ he kindly said. ‘I lost my nan this year. It’s tough, isn’t it?’

‘So tough,’ I swallowed.

‘I’ll ring the office tomorrow,’ he said, as he climbed out.

‘And I’ll see you Saturday,’ I called after him.

‘But we don’t need more help,’ Ned objected. ‘I don’t want more help. What you should have done, Liza, is report the little sod to the police.’

The argument had carried on, right from the moment I’d told Ned what had happened late the evening before and it had completely taken the shine off my cart conversion unveiling the next day. With hindsight, what I should have done was shown him my handiwork before blurting out that I’d recruited a lad who I’d found wandering around the plantation after hours, but it was done now.

‘These are amazing,’ Ned said, momentarily distracted from our disagreement as he cocked his head and pulled one of the sleighs backwards and forwards.

‘I made sure there was decent clearance,’ I said, highlighting all the effort I’d gone to, to think of the practicalities as well as the aesthetics. ‘And I thought we could maybe take some promo shots with Bandit somehow harnessed up to the front.’

‘That’s a brilliant idea,’ Ned nodded. ‘He’ll love that.’

‘I wonder if he’s strong enough to pull a tree,’ I pondered, biting my lip.

That would make an even prettier tableau.

‘And you know, the little kids love sitting in these,’ Ned carried on, the shadow of a smile eradicating his frown. ‘They’ll be clamouring more than ever for their parents to pull them about the place now.’

I had assumed the carts were used solely for transporting trees, but if children loved them too then that was fine by me. A plump, rosy cheeked two-year-old wearing a padded snowsuit being pulled about in a miniature red sleigh with the family business name emblazoned down the side by a willing husky would make the perfect feel-good festive story.

‘In that case,’ I wheedled, tracking back to our original conversation, ‘maybe our new assistant can make sure everyone lines up and takes it in turns.’

Ned’s frown made a sudden reappearance and I regretted bringing Liam up again.

‘And he could take over the beach hut tea round,’ I hastily added. ‘And keep Santa’s sack full of toys while Mrs Claus talks to the children before they go in. And he’s a tall lad too who loves the trees more than anything. I’m sure a bit of extra muscle and exuberance wouldn’t go amiss when you and Maya are busy.’

Ned looked at me and shook his head.

‘Maybe,’ he said, ‘but…’

I never found out what he was going to say next because a car screeched up the drive and into one of the parking spaces. The driver then gave three sharp blasts on the horn which had everyone peering out of the huts.

‘Oh, you have got to be kidding me,’ said Ned, his head dropping.

‘What?’

‘What’s the name of the lad you offered this mythical position to, Liza?’

‘Liam,’ I shrugged, squinting to see who was behind the car wheel.

‘Would that be Liam Chalmers, by any chance?’ Ned tutted as he looked towards the new arrivals.

‘Hey lady,’ shouted Chelsea, through the open car window. ‘I want a word with you.’