so I’m disappointing him as well as you, am I? Good, that’s great to know. I’m not “hiding myself away” either; I happen to like my own company! I might not be out gallivanting every weekend or doing six shows a week in the West End, but believe it or not I like my life. It might not be what I planned, but it’s how things have turned out, OK?’
Mum’s shoulders fell and the anger melted away from her face. ‘What happened to you? You used to have such big dreams; you’d never have settled for “how things have turned out”. Whenever life threw something unexpected at you, you’d find a way to overcome it or turn it to something positive. I’d really like to see that Alice again; that was my girl.’
I was sure I could hear her voice wobble and see tears spill down her face, but she sharply jerked her head away so I couldn’t see. She mumbled a goodbye and ran out the door, sprinting down the hill as fast as her tiny little frame would carry her.
Hot salty tears pricked my eyes and ran down my cheeks before I could stop them. I hated the thought of disappointing my mum, especially after everything she’d done for me. The idea that Jamie would be disappointed in me too, however, stung more than I cared to admit. Although I knew my life wasn’t exactly fizzing with excitement and a new adventure round every corner, I’d still thought I was doing pretty well. I’d dragged myself from the depths of despair and could now call myself a mostly functioning adult of twenty-seven. I had my own cottage that I loved, occasionally ventured out to the Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club, and had even dipped my toe back into the world of work.
It wasn’t enough though. As much as I hated to admit it, my mum was right. As long as I kept pushing people away, I’d never truly move on from Jamie’s death.
And this is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year, I said to myself, merry bloody Christmas to me.
*
Now that I didn’t have to don my pointy ears and massive shoes at Fox’s, I had time to go to the Breakfast Club again. As I stepped into beautiful Sunflower Cottage on a rainy Friday morning – seven Fridays before Christmas, according to a chalkboard in the hall – I felt a sense of calm wash over me. I always did when I came to the B&B; it was one of those places you couldn’t help but love. A collection of glorious smells wafted out from the kitchen to meet me in the lobby, making my mouth water and stomach growl.
‘Hello?’ I called. It looked like I was the first one there, which was unusual. What if they’d changed the day and I hadn’t realised? Just then, the kitchen door swung open and out popped Emily, one of the B&B’s two main proprietors.
‘Hi, you, long time no see! How’ve you been?’ She came over and enveloped me in a friendly embrace. She smelled of cake batter and freshly baked bread.
I nodded and mumbled a reply, not wanting to say too much in case the whole drama with my job and Mum came spilling out. Nobody would want to hear about that, I guessed.
Emily ushered me through to the cosy dining room and let me pick a table. I selected one by the window, so I could watch the snow that had just started to fall outside. It was in its own private corner, away from everyone else. Just the way I liked it.
‘It’s great to have you back,’ she said. ‘What do you fancy? We’ve just had new menus printed; why don’t you take a look and I’ll come back later.’
I picked up the laminated menu with a picture of a sunflower on the front and studied it. They’d added some new dishes since I was last there: eggs Florentine, home-made muesli and freshly made bagels with salmon and cream cheese. There was so much to choose from that I didn’t know where to start. Should I stick to my favourite of chocolate pancakes or stick my neck out and try something new?
Decisions, decisions…
My musings were interrupted by the front door swinging open and a loud voice booming ‘SHOP!’ As soon as I realised who it was, my insides curdled. Standing in Sunflower Cottage’s foyer was none other than the inimitable director of the Silver Bells pantomime, Christabel Grant herself.
I heard the kitchen door swing open and Noah appeared, a bright smile lighting up his handsome face.
‘Morning, Christabel, are you here for the Breakfast Club?’ he asked.
‘Indeed I am!’ Her voice was so loud it made the whole room vibrate. ‘Please make sure my table by the window is free and I’ll have your delicious eggs Benedict, please.’
She strode into the dining room and I immediately felt a shiver of apprehension travel down my spine. It was easy to see why she was the Silver Bells Theatre’s fearless leader; she was a huge, intimidating sort of woman with an angular face and a crop of sleekly styled brown hair. Her outfit reminded me of a school headmistress’s: a starched white shirt, grey pencil skirt and black blazer. She didn’t look like the carefree, jovial kind of person who usually ran an amateur drama group, that was for sure.
Her keen blue eyes fell on me and she approached my table like a lion would approach an unsuspecting gazelle. She stared at me for what felt like hours and I felt a chill run down my spine. For a moment, it looked like she might come over, but instead she walked past me to the table she wanted to sit at.
I breathed a sigh of relief when Emily reappeared and broke the eerie silence in the dining room.
‘Have you decided what you fancy off the menu yet? We’ve got some fab new dishes for you to try.’
‘I’ll have the chocolate pancakes, please.’ Now that Christabel’s laser-like stare had been diverted elsewhere, I felt a little more at ease. ‘Better the devil you know and all that.’
‘Perfect, I’ll get Noah on the case!’
She lifted the menu and headed off towards the kitchen. I couldn’t help but notice the spring in her step; it had been there ever since she’d made the move to Luna Bay from Glasgow a few months previously. She’d been so uptight at first, but now she was a permanent resident of Cloud Nine. I smiled; it must be wonderful to feel so blissfully happy all the time.
A memory from my days in New York drifted into my mind. Jamie and I are on the pond in Central Park, sitting in our rowing boat and swapping stories. He’s so funny that he makes my sides split with laughter and happy tears stream down my face. The sun is shimmering on the water, bouncing off the leaves on the trees. I can’t imagine a more perfect day; Jamie’s smiling as he rows and that look on his face when he thinks of another story is priceless. It’s little moments of perfection like these that I wish would stretch on for ever. Being on Broadway in front of hundreds of people was always my dream and to actually get to do it is amazing, but Jamie is the dream I never saw coming. He sneaked up on me when I wasn’t looking and I’ve never been happier…
Emily setting my plate of pancakes down in front of me snapped me out of my dreamy reverie.
‘You looked miles away there,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘Where were you – anywhere nice?’
I shook my head. ‘Nah, nowhere important. I just let my mind wander a bit, that’s all. These look brilliant by the way. Can’t wait to tuck in!’
‘Well I’ll let you enjoy them then. Bon appétit!’ Emily walked towards the dining room door then turned back to face me. ‘By the way, it’s lovely to see you back, Alice. I missed you.’
I
