Underneath the Christmas Tree

Still full from my delicious lunch and digesting Hope’s mention of the rumour which suggested that I was back in Wynmouth to run Wynter’s Trees with Ned, I didn’t much fancy cooking the ingredients I’d picked up for my dinner, but they didn’t go to waste.

I had planned a lazy Sunday lie in when I climbed the stairs to bed that night, but Ned was up and crashing about long before it was light and I found him in something of a tizz when I gave in, got up and went to begin a stint at the stove.

‘Good morning,’ I said, making an effort to sound cheerier than I felt.

‘Hey,’ he responded, barely looking up from the desk drawer he was rifling through.

‘What are you looking for?’ I asked, bending to fuss Bandit, who was looking forlorn.

I got the impression that he was feeling as frustrated about the early start as I was and I hoped Ned’s apparent dip in joyful mood wasn’t all down to my desire to sell up. If the crashing about was some sort of subliminal sign indicating how he really felt, then it was going to be a long, and headache inducing, few weeks.

‘A marker pen,’ he mumbled. ‘Or a Sharpie. Anything thicker than a biro.’

‘To throw about?’

‘What?’

‘It was a joke.’ I smiled. ‘A bad one apparently. I have a whole box full of markers in my room. What colour do you want?’

‘Oh,’ he said, abandoning the drawer, with a heavy sigh. ‘Right. Black. Or navy. Anything dark. Thanks,’ he added, his voice following me up the stairs as I headed back to retrieve what it was he wanted.

It turned out he was planning to write the names of everyone who’d hired a hut on separate pieces of paper so he could pin then them to the doors, letting them know where to go when they arrived.

‘It’s going to be busy today,’ he told me, sounding slightly harassed at the prospect. ‘Everyone’s coming to start setting up and I want it all to go smoothly. Two people have their own huts and the other two are being shared,’ he elaborated, scribbling a name in tiny letters in the corner of one of the sheets of paper. ‘I thought this might be a nice touch.’

‘Well, let’s hope they’ve all got good eyesight,’ I quipped.

‘Why?’

‘Because they’re going to need magnifying glasses to read that,’ I said, eyeing the paper and miniscule lettering. ‘When are you expecting everyone?’

‘From ten onwards,’ he said.

‘Plenty of time yet then,’ I yawned.

‘But I need to exercise Bandit, check a couple of the trees, make sure the paperwork’s all in order…’

‘Have a wash,’ I further added. ‘Eat breakfast.’

‘Luxuries,’ he sighed, screwing the paper up. ‘I’ll have time for neither food nor a shower this morning.’

‘Look,’ I said, grimacing as he added a tiny name to another sheet. ‘Why don’t you leave me a list of everyone’s names and I’ll write them up while you go for a run and I’ll rustle up some breakfast too. That way you won’t be so hangry when everyone arrives that you scare them all half to death.’

He pinned me with an intense stare. His dark grey eyes had a hint of green I noticed, and were as flecked as his freckled skin.

‘Really?’ he asked, sounding so surprised I was offended. ‘You’d do that?’

‘Of course,’ I insisted, dragging my eyes away from his. ‘Your dad’s cajoled me into staying, so I might as well make myself useful when I can. That said, I do have an ulterior motive,’ I admitted.

‘Another one,’ he muttered, holding out the pen. ‘What is it this time?’

Our skin briefly touched as I took the pen and I felt my face flush. It was the briefest moment of skin-on-skin contact, but an unwelcome butterflies in the tummy feeling accompanied it. I hastily put it down to a combination of needing more sleep and feeling put out by Ned’s peevish tone, rather than a potential spark of attraction.

‘Go for your run,’ I swallowed, nonetheless unsettled by my body’s reaction, ‘and I’ll tell you when you get back.’

‘All right,’ he agreed, dashing off to change into his running gear. ‘I won’t be long.’

The high-cholesterol breakfast I cooked up was exactly what we needed. Cooking it was a distraction and stopped me further analysing the ‘oh my god, we just touched’ moment and Ned, just as I’d predicted he would be, was far happier once his belly was full. He was thrilled with the name signs I’d drawn up and hastily laminated, just in case it rained, too.

‘These look fantastic,’ he said, shuffling through the pile.

I’d written everyone’s names in the middle in cursive lettering and added a simple but pretty border of bright green holly leaves and shiny red berries to the corners. The pattern helped fill the space and looked appropriately festive. They hadn’t taken long, but I’d enjoyed embellishing them.

‘We’re having a grand opening and late-night shopping event on Thursday.’ Ned carried on, eyeing me speculatively. ‘Word of mouth has been our main source of advertising so far, but do you think you could come up with a poster and flyer decorated like these, that we could distribute around the village?’

I couldn’t remember any mention of the event in David’s emails, but I knew there was no point grumbling about it. In fact, I was now resolved to not moan about anything for fear of giving either man the wrong idea. If I objected to anything, they’d assume it was because I cared and the last thing I wanted to do was fan the flames of any hope they were still holding on to.

‘I don’t see why not,’ I therefore acquiesced, sneakily feeding Bandit the last pieces of the sausage I’d cooked for him. ‘If you think they might pull a few more customers in.’

‘I’m certain they will,’ Ned nodded as a car horn sounded outside.

He swallowed down his last mouthful of breakfast and rushed over to the window.

‘They’re keen,’ he said, at last sounding more excited than exasperated. ‘It’s Theo and Wren. Do you want to come out and meet them before the others arrive?’

‘No,’ I said, feeling a bubble of nerves mingle with the big breakfast in my belly, ‘I’ll be out in a bit, but before you go, I just want to ask you something.’

‘Oh yes,’ he said, ‘I forgot you said there was something. What is it? If you’re going to ask if I’ve made a decision about taking on the business yet…’

‘No,’ I said. ‘Of course, it’s not that. I promised I’d give you time and I’m sticking to that.’

Ned looked relieved. ‘What is it then?’ he asked, looking over to the window again.

‘When I was in Wynmouth yesterday someone mentioned they’d heard I was back and they were under the impression that I’m staying for good and going to run this place with you.’

‘The good old village grapevine,’ Ned tutted. ‘Well, it hasn’t come from me.’

‘I wasn’t suggesting it had,’ I quickly said. ‘But I don’t want people getting the wrong idea about why I’m here. It probably doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but to me it feels deceitful, letting locals assume I’m back to help run the plantation.’

‘Because you might be going again, you mean?’

‘Because I will be going again,’ I firmly corrected.

‘So, you want to tell them you’re selling up?’

‘If that’s all right, with you.’

Ned puffed out his cheeks and then let out a long breath. ‘I’m sorry, Liza,’ he said, ‘but it’s not. I’d rather we didn’t tell anyone. Not yet anyway.’

‘Oh.’ I hadn’t expected him to say no.

‘The thing is,’ he explained, ‘if people get wind of it, I’ll be inundated with advice and, no matter how well meant, I don’t need it. I have to make this decision for myself, with no interference from anyone.’

Given the gargantuan nature of the situation, I could see the reasoning behind his remark.

‘And then of course there’s the flip side,’ he added.

‘The flip side?’ I frowned.

‘Yes,’ he smiled. ‘If folk know you’re planning to sell, they’re bound to go out of their way to convince you to stay.’

‘Shit,’ I said, biting my lip. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. Like you and your dad, you mean.’

‘Not me,’ he shrugged. ‘You clearly know your own mind and I’m intrigued to hear more about this business idea you’ve got, but I can’t account for what Dad and everyone else will say and do.’

It was a relief to know that he knew I meant business. No pun intended.

‘All right,’ I relented, because his argument made sense. ‘We won’t say anything.’

The car horn sounded again and Ned began to pull on his coat.

‘I’ll tell Dad not to say anything,’ he told me. ‘Not that I think he will, given how badly he wants you to change your mind, and we’ll see how things stand in a couple of weeks.’

‘All right.’

He looked as though he was about to say something else, but then changed his mind. He picked up the signs and made for the door with Bandit on his heels.

‘I’ll go and pin these up and then come back to help tidy up.’

I knew that wasn’t what he’d originally been going to say.

‘No, it’s fine.’ I insisted. ‘You go and get on. I get the feeling it’s going to be all hands on deck today.’

‘Yes,’ he said, as another early arrival lined up behind the first. ‘I think you might be right.’

From my vantage point behind the sitting room curtains, I could see the yard was heaving before ten o’clock and counting the number of people rushing about, carrying boxes, bags and shelving units to and fro, I guessed everyone on Ned’s list had arrived.

They were certainly eager and even though I was fascinated to find out what the many boxes and bags contained, I hung back, taking my time to load the dishwasher and plumping cushions on the pretence of being too busy to go out and introduce myself to the group of strangers.

That said, I had spotted one familiar face among the throng. Hope had arrived in a farm truck with a man who I guessed was her partner, given that they had kissed while unloading boxes, and they were now ferrying those into the barn, rather than one of the huts.

I was just toying with the idea of hiding out upstairs for a bit when Ned strode in, bringing with him a blast of freezing air which was fast becoming his trademark arrival.

‘You all sorted?’ he asked, his cheeks flushed with cold. ‘Only I said I’d come and fetch you. We’re just stopping for a quick break, so now’s the perfect time to say hello.’

I would have much rather waited until everyone was back in their own huts and I could have faced them in smaller numbers, but lingering in the lodge for too long had put paid to that.

‘All right,’ I nervously said. ‘I’ll just grab a coat.’

‘Layer up,’ Ned advised. ‘It’s really cold.’

He wasn’t wrong. The air that hit me was almost as chilled as that which had blasted me on the beach the day before, but at least I could blame the plummeting temperature for my rosy glow, rather than my nerves.

‘Everyone,’ Ned loudly said, drawing their attention. ‘This is Liza Wynter.’

‘Well, of course it is,’ said a woman I knew very well. ‘Hello, my darling.’

‘Sue,’ I swallowed. ‘I had no idea you were going to be here.’ I’d written her first name on one of the signs, but hadn’t made the connection. ‘How are you?’

‘All the better for seeing you,’ she said, jumping up and pulling me in for a hug. ‘It’s been too long.’

Sue and Mum had been the best of friends back in the village where we lived up north. She had moved to Wynmouth after her second marriage and was the person who had flagged up the plantation sale to Dad. Given that she had been so instrumental in the move, which had been such a disaster for me, I could have continued to cling to the grudge, but she was so warm, friendly and kind, I couldn’t hold it against her any longer. Along with David, she had tried hard to support me after Dad’s death but I hadn’t let her in. Now, feeling comforted by the warmth of her embrace, I rather regretted that.

‘It has,’ I agreed, taking in her smiling face and plump rosy cheeks. ‘Far too long.’

‘It’s wonderful to have you back,’ she grinned.

She and Mum had run a sewing group back in the village, teaching anyone who was interested how to knit, sew, crochet and stitch. They were all skills they knew were fast being lost and were determined to pass on. Mum had carried on after Sue left, and I knew she had got something similar going in Wynmouth. Or at least she had.

‘Is your group still going?’ I asked. ‘Sue’s Sewing Circle, isn’t it?’

‘That’s right,’ she proudly said. ‘And yes, it’s still going strong. You should join us.’

‘Not me,’ I laughed. ‘I’m still better with a paintbrush than a needle.’

‘And on that note,’ said another woman, stepping forward. ‘I know who you are too.’ I wracked my brain, trying to recall her face, but couldn’t. She must have been just a couple of years younger than me. ‘I’m Wren,’ she said, ‘and I can remember you from school, Liza.’

‘Oh,’ I said, feeling my heart sink. ‘You can?’

She no doubt remembered my nickname and the ridiculing Chelsea endlessly subjected me to. I had been hoping to avoid further reminders of those dark days.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I was in awe of your artwork. Your exam portfolio which was on display in the hall was phenomenal.’

‘Oh,’ I flushed, completely taken aback, ‘thank you.’

‘Are you a full-time artist now?’

‘Oh no,’ I smiled. ‘I’m a school art therapist. Or I was until earlier in the year. I was made redundant at the end of the summer term.’

‘Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that,’ Wren sympathised.

‘It’s all right,’ I told her. ‘It’s actually led me to better things.’

‘Exactly,’ said Sue, with a satisfied smile. ‘Their loss is our gain. If you hadn’t been made redundant, you wouldn’t have come back and we’re all thrilled you have. It was about time!’

I was desperate to correct her, but bit my lip and went along with what I’d promised Ned as he quickly introduced me to everyone else. There were lots of names to remember, but my teaching experience helped fix them, as well as their wonderful sounding enterprises, in my head.

Hope and her mum, Sophie, along with Hope’s partner, Joe, were setting up in the barn, rather than one of the huts. The two women were in charge of the Wynter’s Trees catering, which got me off hot chocolate duty, while Joe was selling the wild bird seed he and his brother grew and harvested on their nearby family farm, along with other bird food products. It was a relatively new diversification venture, but proving to be a lucrative one.

‘And I’m a silversmith and sea-glass jewellery maker,’ Wren told me, as she darted about in much the same manner as the diminutive bird she was named after. ‘I’m going to be selling my jewellery and sharing a hut with my other half, Theo.’

‘I’m a potter,’ Theo explained. ‘Only part-time though. I’m a gardener too, but as there’s not so much work around over the winter, I can focus on messing about with clay for a few more hours every day.’

‘He does more than mess about with it,’ tutted Hope on hearing his self-effacing tone. ‘His pieces are functional and fabulous. Oh, and he’s, my cousin,’ she added with a wink.

‘And as you might remember, I retired early,’ Sue told me. ‘But I got bored very quickly and decided to start selling my soft furnishings. I’ve got shelves full of vintage fabrics and I turn them into cushions, lampshades and bunting.’

‘And we’re Abbie and Noah,’ said a young woman, who pushed herself forward in a wheelchair. ‘But we’re not a couple.’

I remembered the lorry driver who had delivered the huts had mentioned someone called Abbie.

‘Definitely not a couple,’ Noah quickly confirmed. ‘I’m a wildlife photographer who makes wire sculptures and Abbie…’

‘Fell off her horse eighteen months ago,’ said Abbie, speaking for herself, ‘and would have run mad, or I would if I could, until Sue introduced me to felting and I’ve just launched my first collection of wild birds.’

‘Her tits are amazing,’ said Noah, with a completely straight face. ‘So realistic.’

Everyone burst out laughing and Noah rolled his eyes.

‘You lot are so immature,’ he tutted, striding off, but we could see he was smiling.

‘I’m not going to be in this thing forever,’ said Abbie, patting the arms of her chair, ‘but my recovery is taking a little longer than expected so, in the meantime, I’m keeping busy hanging out with this lot and seeing if I can make a go of running a small business.’

‘I think you’re all amazing,’ I told them, feeling in awe of both their determination and incredible skills. ‘And I’m certain your products are going to prove popular with everyone who visits Wynter’s. Ned was really on to something when he suggested siting the huts here, wasn’t he?’

Everyone nodded in agreement and I only then realised there was one woman who hadn’t introduced herself. She was wrapped in a sort of patchwork cloak and stood slightly apart from everyone else.

‘Hi,’ I said, when our eyes met. ‘I’m Liza.’

‘I’m Lilith,’ she said, then quietly added, ‘I’m going to be selling greenery and making wreaths and swags on-site.’

‘How lovely,’ I said.

‘I’m more interested in Yule, than Christmas,’ she elaborated, her eyes sparkling and her cloak swishing as she became more animated. ‘As you may have worked out.’

‘Right,’ said Ned, clapping his hands together, before I had an opportunity to answer her. ‘Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?’

I helped Abbie ferry a couple of boxes from Noah’s car to the hut the pair had been assigned. It was the first one in the row and at the bottom of a slight incline that led to the others.

‘Ned’s thought of everything, hasn’t he?’ Abbie laughed as she easily negotiated her way inside the hut.

‘It would appear so,’ I agreed, putting down the boxes. ‘Give me a shout if you need an extra pair of hands with anything else, won’t you?’

‘Well,’ she smiled, ‘as you’ve offered, I could do with a hand with the painting. Ned has said we’re allowed to decorate but I can’t reach the high bits.’

‘In that case,’ I smiled back, ‘give me a brush and I’ll make a start.’

By late afternoon, the light was fading fast and not even the warmth supplied by the delicious spice infused lunch that Sophie had kindly provided was enough to stave off the biting cold. Everyone had made a great start personalising their beach huts but there was still a way to go before they were officially opened the following Thursday.

Not everyone was going to be able to get back every day, so before they all left, Ned and I went around and made a list of who needed what and I offered to do anything I could to alleviate the stress and help make the launch the success I could see everyone wanted it to be.

Having promised Ned and David that I would stay until Christmas, I was pleased that as well as sorting through things in the lodge, there was going to be plenty for me to do and I’d already got my eye on a few offcuts of wood in the barn that I was planning to turn into signs. Now I knew everyone’s business names and a bit about them, I could paint them accordingly and if I got on with the project straightaway, I would be able to hang them on their doors before the launch.

‘Your mum and dad would be so proud of you,’ said Sue, singling me out for another hug as everyone got ready to leave. ‘I know it’s taken you a long time to work your way back here, and I know the complicated reasons why better than anyone else, but you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.’

I squeezed her back and tried not to think of all the people I was going to disappoint when they found out the truth behind my return. Ned had been right earlier when he’d warned me that if everyone knew of my plans to sell, they’d spend the whole time trying to convince me to change them. If I shared my business idea, they might well tell me they loved it, but when it came down to it, I bet they’d love to keep a Wynter at Wynter’s Trees more.

‘Isn’t it?’ Sue smiled, pulling away a little so she could look at me.

‘Yes,’ I nodded, feeling my heart race. ‘That’s all that matters now.’