Underneath the Christmas Tree

I left Ned checking out the arrangement of his new venture and went back to the lodge. As I closed the door and glanced back at the row of huts, I couldn’t help thinking how perfectly they sat in the yard.

There was more than enough room for them and they looked as though they’d been there for far longer than five minutes. Even though I didn’t know exactly what they were going to be stocked with yet, in my experience bespoke designers meant quality, so they’d be a great draw. If Ned played his cards right then Wynter’s Trees might well turn out to be one of the top go-to Christmas attractions in the area.

I hung Dad’s coat back on its hook and picked up the framed photo of him and Mum from the bookcase next to the log burner. I wondered what Dad would make of the changes Ned was making. He would have most likely been upset to see the Chevy taken out of service, but he would have accepted it on the environmental grounds Ned had flagged up.

‘Waste not, want not,’ I could imagine him saying as he admired it on display.

He would have loved that the vehicle still had some purpose and would have been the first to have his photo taken standing next to it. And even though Mum knew nothing of Wynter’s Trees, she would have adored the huts. I could remember her shopping with care and opting to buy from small producers because they offered something unique. She had been shopping local, I realised, long before it became a trendy buzzword.

‘Good god!’ said Ned, bursting through the door a little later and bringing with him a cold rush of air. ‘It’s absolutely pouring out there.’

He was soaking wet again, only clothed this time and Bandit, who was by his side, didn’t look much drier. Ned shook his jacket out on the veranda and then gave the dog a rub with a towel which was kept next to the door for that purpose.

‘I hadn’t noticed,’ I said, as Bandit skittered over to me, his claws scrabbling to grip the wooden floor, but I could see Ned was right.

‘I hope it stops soon, otherwise tonight will be a wash out.’ He tutted.

‘Tonight?’

‘It’s bonfire night and there’s a party happening on the beach.’

‘Oh right,’ I mused. ‘I seem to remember your dad mentioning a firework party.’

Since finishing work, I’d rather lost track of the date which felt strange, given that my entire working life had been governed by the calendar.

‘No fireworks,’ Ned elaborated, ‘because you never know where the waste will end up, but there’s going to be a bonfire, sparklers and some fabulous food. Do you fancy it? You’d be most welcome. You might run into someone you know.’

That wasn’t very likely because I’d never really socialised with anyone in the village. Wynter’s Trees was located too far out to make it possible for my teenage self to get to the beach without parental assistance and given that the Chevy was Dad’s favoured mode of transport, I preferred to stay at home, rather than draw the extra unwelcome attention. I hadn’t passed my driving test until a few weeks before I left for university, by which time it was too late to form lasting local friendships.

‘I don’t think I will, but thanks for the offer,’ I said. ‘I’m still feeling washed out from the hectic term, so I’m going to have another early night.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Ned. ‘As long as you’re sure?’

‘I am.’

‘I was hoping to have the chance to tell you a bit more about my plans for the huts before I went,’ he added, glancing over at the clock. ‘But I’ve offered to help set up and if I don’t get a move on, I’ll be late. If you did come, I could tell you on the way.’

‘There’s no need,’ I told him. ‘It’s fine.’

‘But I don’t want you thinking…’

‘I don’t think anything,’ I cut in, waving his words away. ‘Honestly.’

‘Hang on,’ he laughed. ‘You don’t know what I’m going to say yet.’

‘Yes, I do.’ I smiled back, because I found it impossible not to when he looked so amused. ‘You were going to say you don’t want me thinking that you’re going to fill the huts with mass-produced plastic crap.’

He shook his head.

‘Weren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘Well, something like that.’

‘Well, I don’t think that,’ I insisted. ‘Especially not since you set me straight so quickly. In fact, I’m looking forward to seeing the huts set up and stocked. And I’m looking forward to meeting these small business owners you’re so keen to help out too.’

The words flowed out and rather took me by surprise. I put them down to my desire to see the business continuing to thrive and looking like an even more irresistible prospect.

‘Well, that’s great,’ said Ned, scratching his head.

I got the impression that he had been expecting more of a battle than an easy ride.

‘In that case, I’ll get ready and go,’ he carried on. ‘And I’ll shut Bandit in the utility room before I leave. That way you might get an undisturbed night. You’re sure you don’t want to come? Some of the people who will be selling from the huts are bound to be there.’

‘No, it’s okay,’ I reiterated. ‘I need some sleep, but thanks for asking.’

I didn’t much like Bandit being banished and Ned hadn’t been gone many minutes, leaving behind a lingering trace of luscious woody aftershave, before I unlocked the door and let the dog back out again. He gave me an accusatory cerulean ‘I should think so too’ stare, obviously aware that I had been the cause of his eviction from the hearth.

I apologised with a treat from the locked cupboard which contained his food and then settled down on the sofa and fired up my laptop. There they all were, David’s multiple emails explaining what had been happening along with the details of the potential future changes.

I skimmed a few, but properly read the details of others and soon got the gist that Ned was keen to vastly extend the Wynter’s Trees season and not with a view to just boosting profits.

Most recently there had been a Halloween party in the barn and a spooky trail around part of the plantation to help raise funds for the village hall which was in need of repairs, and there was another email explaining that more trees were going to be donated to local causes this year along with the reasons why. There was further future investment earmarked for the nature reserve too. A bird-hide named after Dad was apparently in the pipeline.

I went to bed, further reassured of Ned’s commitment to the business and I happily snuggled down under the duvet and contentedly ran through the words I would say when I spoke to him and David about my plans the next day.

‘My dear, Liza,’ beamed David, rushing to greet me, when I went over to the office early the next morning. ‘I’m so happy that you finally agreed to come home.’

‘So am I,’ I told him as he pulled me in for a hug, and in spite of the fact that I’d never really considered the place ‘home’.

That said, in just a few minutes, I would finally be able to explain why I was so happy to be here and that was something to smile about.

‘I knew you would be,’ he said, releasing me and looking over to Ned. ‘Didn’t I say to you, that if we could just get her here, then everything would be fine?’

‘You did,’ Ned agreed, ‘many, many times.’

Suddenly I found it wasn’t so easy to return the look David was giving me. It was obvious that he was still harbouring the hope that I might move back for good.

‘So,’ he said, ushering me into a chair. ‘How are you finding things? I know some of it has probably been a bit tough, but you’re all right really, aren’t you?’

The eagerness in his tone tugged at my heartstrings. David had tried so hard to look after me in the past and I’d blocked him at every turn. Going forward, I decided I would accept his kindness and his help. That is, assuming he would remain kind and helpful once I’d told him what I was planning to do.

‘Yes,’ I nodded. ‘I’m fine, but you’re right. Some things have been harder than others. For a start, it was a shock to see the truck out of action.’

I hated the thing with a passion and yet the sight of it permanently grounded had still taken some getting used to.

‘But I wrote about that,’ he said, his brows knitted together.

‘And as you know,’ Ned reminded him, with a mischievous grin, ‘Liza doesn’t always read her emails. Do you Miss Wynter?’

‘No,’ I blushed, staving off the desire to stick my tongue out at him. ‘I don’t. Although last night, I did work my way through a lot of what you’d written, David, and I’ve got a much better idea about things now.’

Ned looked impressed.

‘And what do you think about the beach hut project?’ David keenly asked.

‘I really like it,’ I told him. ‘Ned knows I was a little sceptical at first, but now he’s explained about the quality of the designers who will be stocking it, I think it’s a wonderful idea. And I love the community focused projects too. You’ve got a great resource here, especially in terms of outside space and it’s great that it’s being used to its full potential.’

Ned looked even happier.

‘Well, that is wonderful,’ smiled David, ‘but you just said, you’ve got a great resource here. Surely you mean we, don’t you, my dear? This is still a co-owned business don’t forget, even if you do prefer the role of silent partner.’

‘Um,’ I said, taking a deep breath and sitting up a little straighter. ‘I’m pleased you picked up on that, David, because there’s something I want to talk to you about in terms of my role in the business.’

Ned pushed back his chair and picked up the open file of papers on his desk.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he said.

‘No, don’t go.’ I insisted. ‘This involves you too, Ned. In fact, it’s more about you than your dad, but I didn’t want to say anything until we were all together.’

He sat down again and he and David exchanged a questioning look. I tried to remember how I’d formed the words before I went to sleep, but now the moment had arrived, they’d all got jumbled in my head. I knew this was what I wanted, but now it came to asking for it, it wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.

‘What is it?’ asked Ned. ‘You’ve got me worried now.’

I shook my head. ‘No,’ I said, ‘don’t be worried. It’s nothing bad.’

‘What is it then?’ David demanded.

‘Well,’ I began, lacing my fingers together in my lap. ‘I’ve been giving my future and my role here a lot of thought recently…’

A swift glance at the hope lighting up David’s eyes left me in no doubt that he was willing me to say I was moving back permanently.

‘And?’ encouraged Ned.

‘And,’ I said, pulling in another breath, ‘I’ve decided, like you, David,’ I added to try and make it sound as if we were in it together, ‘I’m going to sell my shares in the business.’

‘You’re going to what?’ David gasped, all the colour draining from his face.

‘Sell my shares,’ I repeated.

He looked absolutely horrified.

‘There are things I want to do with my life,’ I elaborated, but for some reason holding back my plans to set up my own business, ‘and I’ll need capital in order to achieve them. The only way I can raise it is by selling my stake in the business.’

Neither man said a word.

‘You did say that my life wouldn’t work right until I’d sorted a few things out here, didn’t you, David?’

Ned shot his father a look.

‘And having thought it all through very carefully, I now know that severing my connection to this place is a sure-fire way for me to do that.’

Ned shook his head.

‘You must know I’ve wanted to cut my ties to Wynter’s for a long time, David,’ I softly said.

‘You always told me that you thought Liza would eventually come back,’ Ned accusingly shot at his father. ‘Just give her time, you said, and she’ll come round.’

‘That was never going to happen.’ I clarified. ‘Not in a million years. Why did you think I’d stayed away?’

‘Jesus,’ he muttered, thrusting his hands into his hair and making it stand up on end.

‘And now you’re retiring, David, this feels like the perfect time…’

‘For who?’ Ned interrupted. ‘Who the hell are you planning to sell to? We don’t want just anyone taking over. They’re going to have the bigger share. What if they see things differently? What if they don’t envisage the same future for the place as I do?’

He was beginning to sound desperate.

‘That’s not going to be an issue,’ I tried to say reassuringly.

‘But how can you be sure, Liza?’

‘Because,’ I said, ‘I want to sell my shares to you.’

‘To me?’ he spluttered.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I want you to take over the whole place, Ned.’

My words hung in the air and a silence I hadn’t been expecting replaced the whoops of joy I had assumed would follow my announcement. I had thought the pair of them would be thrilled, but neither man looked excited at all.

‘But Wynter’s Trees needs a Wynter at the helm,’ David said eventually.

‘Wynter’s Trees hasn’t had that in a very long time,’ I pointed out.

I turned my gaze to Ned. He looked paler than David.

‘I can’t buy you out, Liza,’ he distractedly said. ‘It’s going to be a push for me to buy Dad’s shares.’

I hadn’t been so naïve that I assumed he would shake my hand and pass over the cash there and then, but I had thought that his excitement to take over would guarantee a promise that he would find a way to make it happen. A firm and immediate ‘no’ had never entered into the equation when I had played this moment out in my head.

‘And before you suggest it,’ Ned said, addressing his dad, ‘I’m not buying Liza out instead of you. You’ve already put your trip off once for this place, I won’t let it happen again.’

‘What does that mean?’ I frowned. ‘When did you put it off, David?’

Ned opened his mouth to speak, but David cut him off. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he resolutely said, brooking no contradiction. ‘Are you really sure you want to do this, Liza?’

‘I am,’ I said, lifting my chin.

‘I can’t believe it,’ he sighed. ‘This is the very last thing I was expecting you to suggest. I thought when you agreed to come back, that you might…’

‘What?’ I cut in. ‘Somehow fall in love with the place when I drove through the gate? That would be a fairy tale, David, and I don’t believe in fairy stories. Do you, Ned?’

He didn’t look as though he knew what he believed anymore.

‘Wouldn’t you like to be sole proprietor?’ I asked him.

‘I don’t know,’ he said, his voice shaking a little. ‘I’ve never thought about it. Given that Dad’s always been so convinced that you’d come back, I thought you would too, and after this redundancy. Well, I thought this was it. Whenever I’ve thought about the long-term future, I always imagined the two of us working here together, side by side.’

For the briefest moment, I allowed myself to imagine what that future might look like. Working with Ned was a tempting prospect. The sight of him, kitted out in a chunky knit, certainly made my pulse race, but my heart beat fast when I thought about my life without Wynter’s Trees in it and setting up my own business too.

‘I’m sorry,’ I told him, repeating what I’d already said, ‘but that was never going to happen.’

‘But your reaction to the lodge, and the tree, I thought…’

‘None of that meant anything,’ I firmly said.

The office fell quiet again.

‘I suppose I could have a go at trying to raise the money,’ Ned finally said, ‘but it will need some serious thinking about first and even then, it will take a while. I’m not even sure if it’s what I want.’

So much for my assumption that he would snatch my hand off. I was feeling every bit as poleaxed as the two men.

‘I do appreciate that I’ve rather sprung this on you,’ I acknowledged.

‘Good,’ said Ned.

‘Might I suggest something?’ David tentatively asked.

‘That depends on what it is,’ I told him, feeling ruffled that he had genuinely thought that one day I would move back, and worse, that he had let Ned believe it too.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘as Ned’s just mentioned, he’s going to need time to think about all this and you’ve literally just arrived back, Liza.’

‘So?’ I frowned. ‘What difference does that make?’

‘So,’ he said, ‘you still haven’t really given the place a chance.’

‘To do what?’

‘Grow on you, of course.’

Ned let out a bark of laughter.

‘I know my own mind, David,’ I firmly said, feeling exasperated, ‘and I’m not going to change it. And I really need the money.’

‘I appreciate that,’ he said. ‘And surely you can appreciate that Ned needs time.’

‘What exactly are you asking me to do?’ I sighed.

‘Stay up until Christmas,’ he suggested. ‘It’s not all that far away and as well as giving Ned time to think it will also help you determine whether or not you’re doing the right thing. The longer you stay here…’

‘I’m not going to change my mind,’ I interrupted, the words this time coming through gritted teeth.

‘You need to drop it, Dad,’ said Ned, turning to his father. ‘Liza’s mind is made up.’

At least we agreed on something. Ned then looked at me.

‘That said,’ he carried on. ‘I do need this time, Liza. It’s going to get really busy here soon and this isn’t a decision I can afford to rush into. I’m not going to decide overnight.’

‘Of course,’ I agreed, because it would have been ridiculous not to. ‘I’ll stay,’ I said, staring hard at David, ‘but only because I can get on with sorting out the lodge and things. One hint that you’re trying to make me change my mind, David, and I’ll be off.’

He held up his hands in surrender.

‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ he smiled, but I wasn’t sure I believed him.

I was shellshocked by the reaction to my announcement. I hadn’t been expecting David to be particularly thrilled, but I thought Ned would have been delighted. I could appreciate that it was a huge undertaking for him, but one I had reckoned he would be immediately willing to embrace.

I always knew it would take time to raise the money, but it had never entered my head that he might not want to. Still, he’d asked for time and I had that in spades. I would sort out the lodge while he mulled it all over, perhaps help out a bit around the plantation to keep David off my case too, and hopefully the end result would be worth the sacrifice of a few weeks.

Having finally shared my plans, I then drove to Wynmouth for a restorative walk along the beach. Within seconds of jumping down on to the sand, I was feeling pleased I’d had the foresight to add one of Mum’s homemade knitted hat and scarf combos to Dad’s wax coat, because it was freezing. The tide was on its way out which meant I could peer into the crystal-clear depths of the rockpools, but I didn’t linger. The bracing wind whipped the sand up and about and my cheeks stung as I readjusted the scarf so only my eyes were uncovered.

It felt a far cry from the sunny summer days I could remember paddling in the sea and collecting shells, but as it was November, I supposed that was hardly a surprise. Feeling buffeted by more than the breeze, I left the beach and made a beeline for the shops.

‘Can I have half a dozen eggs, please and six rashers of smoked bacon?’ I asked in the butcher’s. ‘And four breakfast sausages.’

The sea air had given me an appetite and I rather fancied cooking a good old-fashioned fry up for dinner.

‘Actually, make that five sausages,’ I amended, thinking that as I was including Ned in the feast, a small meaty treat for Bandit wouldn’t go amiss.

Next, I stocked up on mushrooms from the grocer’s and a beautiful looking loaf from the baker’s. Wriggling my toes to encourage the blood flow, I was just beginning to warm up when my temperature was sent soaring.

‘Well, well, well,’ said a voice behind me as I was about to leave. ‘If it isn’t little Miss Christmas. I’d recognise those homespun knits anywhere.’

My heart first sank in my chest and then began to pound. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders, but it was no good. Neither action made me feel any braver. Or taller.

‘It is you, isn’t it, Elf?’

Reluctantly, I turned to face my nemesis.

‘I knew I was right,’ she said, clapping her hands together and looking me up and down in much the same way she used to at school.

Chelsea Chalmers was much taller than me and I felt myself shrinking to Lilliputian proportions in her unwanted presence. In spite of all my efforts as a high school staff member to root out her kind and support any student who found themselves on the receiving end of negative singling out, I still couldn’t put into practice the techniques I had taught others.

‘Chelsea,’ I croaked, before clearing my throat and trying again. ‘Hi. Yes, you’re right. It is me.’

I pulled off Mum’s hat and ran a hand through my long dark hair, forcing myself to look at her.

‘You look… different…’ she faltered.

‘Well, I should hope so,’ I swallowed, ‘we haven’t seen each other in over ten years.’

‘That’s true,’ she said, ‘but as you can see, I haven’t changed a bit.’

‘No,’ I said, looking at her overly made-up face, ‘I can see that.’

Someone behind me sniggered and I quickly pushed my way out of the shop, my legs wobbling like a plate of jelly. David really had no hope that I would change my mind about moving back permanently when Chelsea Chalmers still lived in the vicinity. I had no desire to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for her.

I packed my shopping in the chilly boot of my car and walked down to the pub to treat myself to lunch, determined that Chelsea wasn’t going to run me out of the village.

‘What can I get you?’ asked the landlord.

After my unexpected encounter, I would have liked a double measure of something that would burn my throat and settle my nerves, but as I was driving, I thought better of it.

‘I’ll have a Coke please and a look at the lunch menu if you have one.’

‘One Coke coming up,’ he smiled, ‘and the menu is over there,’ he added, pointing to a board which was propped up next to a brightly burning fire.

‘Right,’ I said, reading the list. ‘Wow, it all sounds delicious. What do you recommend?’

‘If you’re a seafood fan, then I’d go for the mussels,’ he suggested. ‘They’re in season right now and they’re cooked fresh with just a hint of chilli.’

‘Perfect for this weather,’ I said, looking out the window as the wind rattled the frame.

‘Exactly,’ he grinned. ‘They’ll soon warm you up.’

‘I’ll have those then, please,’ I said. ‘And some bread too.’

‘Grab a seat and someone will bring it over.’

‘Thanks.’

I chose the table closest to the fire and noticed that I wasn’t going to be the first diner enjoying a steaming bowl of wine and chilli-enhanced mussels. They were clearly a popular choice, as was the pub. It was surprisingly busy for a blustery day in November.

‘One bowl of mussels,’ announced a woman wearing a Smugglers Inn apron, as she carefully placed them along with a rustic roll and a little ramekin of butter on the table.

I had warmed up enough to take off Dad’s jacket and having now got over the shock of running into my old enemy, was very much looking forward to my meal.

‘Wow,’ I said. ‘They look amazing.’

‘Thank you,’ she smiled. ‘They’re my mum’s recipe. She runs a café on the beach and cooks her Caribbean fusion dishes for the pub. I’m Hope,’ she added.

‘Nice to meet you Hope,’ I smiled up at her. ‘I’m—’

‘Liza,’ she quickly said. ‘You’re Liza Wynter, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘Enjoy your mussels, Liza,’ she said, before heading back to the bar.

I had no idea how she knew my name and tucked in, keenly mopping up the leftover liquor with the butter smothered bread. No sooner had I finished eating and drained my glass than Hope came back, bringing with her a slice of chocolate cake and a small jug of warm chocolate sauce.

‘Dessert is on me,’ she winked. ‘And this isn’t Mum’s creation, it’s mine.’

‘Wow,’ I said, hoping I’d got room for it. ‘Thanks, but you didn’t need to do that.’

‘Consider it a thank you,’ she said, smiling again.

‘But I haven’t done anything.’ I frowned, feeling confused.

Hope sat down in the chair opposite mine. ‘Oh yes, you have,’ she said, sounding panto-ready. ‘You’ve agreed to have the beach huts up at Wynter’s Trees, haven’t you?’

‘Oh,’ I said, feeling my face colour. I could hardly take the credit for that. ‘I see. Well, the huts are there, but they’re nothing to do with me.’

‘I know Ned has been the driving force behind the project,’ she cut in, ‘but nonetheless, everyone’s very grateful to you both. It wouldn’t be happening if you hadn’t given the idea the go ahead.’

‘Is it that big a deal?’ I asked, pouring some of the sauce over the already moist cake.

‘God, yes,’ she said. ‘Lots of people were relying on them for their festive income, but when the green, which was where they were originally supposed to go, became waterlogged after the last autumn storm, it was suddenly all off and everyone was devastated.’

‘I see.’

‘And then,’ she carried on, ‘having scrapped the hut idea, we tried to move into the village hall, but that was no good either because the roof is in need of repair and the insurers have deemed it unsafe for public use.’

‘Oh dear,’ I sympathised, guessing that was why the money raised from the Halloween event at Wynter’s Trees was set aside for the hall.

‘But it’s sorted now,’ Hope smiled. ‘Not the hall yet, obviously, but the beach hut project, which everyone had their hearts set on in the first place. Wynter’s has saved the day. It’s safe and secure and already attracts hundreds of visitors. It’s the best possible place for everyone to be.’

‘It does sound like the ideal amalgamation,’ I agreed.

‘It is,’ she said. ‘You must be so proud of what your dad created. He really helped put Wynmouth on the map and I just know everyone who has signed up to sell in the huts feels the same way.’

I felt unexpectedly choked knowing Dad’s legacy still meant so much.

‘Do they?’

‘Of course,’ said Hope. ‘Business start-ups, especially in the current economic climate, need all the help they can get. I should know, I’ve set up my own in the last couple of years and being able to put everyone who is in the same boat, in the same place, with the business your dad created as a backdrop is going to be just the boost we all need.’

She certainly sounded excited about it all and not for the first time, I acknowledged that Ned had struck on something wonderful that had the potential to benefit a lot of people.

‘Well,’ I said, ‘like I mentioned before, it’s really nothing to do with me. This is all Ned’s hard work. I’m just a silent partner. It’s been years since I’ve even visited.’

‘But you’re back now,’ Hope winked. ‘And rumour has it, for good. I just know that with the two of you working together, the place is going to go from strength to strength.’

I didn’t have the heart to tell her otherwise, but neither did I want her assuming that I was back in Wynmouth forever. I would have to talk to Ned and ask him what we were going to tell people before everyone jumped to the wrong conclusion. The future of Wynter’s Trees was in his hands now and the sooner folk knew that, the better.