I choked out, ‘I missed you too.’
She smiled, told Christabel her eggs Benedict would be ready in a couple of minutes then went off to join Noah in the kitchen. I felt my dining companion’s gaze on me as I ate; she knew how to intimidate someone when she put her mind to it.
‘You’re Ruth Woods’s daughter aren’t you?’ she suddenly piped up. ‘Annie isn’t it?’
I swallowed a mouthful of pancakes and gulped, daring to meet her gaze for the first time. ‘It’s Alice actually.’
Christabel nodded slowly and kept her eyes firmly on me, as though she was sizing me up. ‘I thought it was you when I walked in, but you had your head down so I couldn’t see you properly. Last I heard, you were dazzling audiences on stage in New York. What brings you back to Luna Bay?’
I narrowed my eyes in suspicion as I pushed some pancakes round the plate. I’d been back in the village for three years and the reason for my return had been pretty well discussed at the time. I also knew that Christabel knew full well why I was back in Luna Bay; the reason behind my return had spread round the village like wildfire three years ago. Everybody knew exactly what had happened.
‘Personal reasons,’ was the excuse I ended up using, ‘plus I fancied a change of scenery.’
I had an inner wry smile at my little theatre pun, but kept my guard firmly in place. She rested her chin on a pair of balled-up fists and studied me for a moment. I felt like one of those stuffed animals in glass display cases at the Natural History Museum. I’d always loved the awful attempts at taxidermy.
‘You know…’ Her tone was different now; she’d cut the frostiness out completely and elongated her vowels. ‘The drama group at the Silver Bells Theatre puts on a pantomime every Christmas and we’re looking to swell our ranks this year. Don’t suppose I could persuade you to join us? We’re doing Cinderella and there are still some great parts up for grabs!’
Oh balls. How was I going to say no to her?! Refusing my mum had been easy – I’d been disappointing her for the last twenty-seven years, so I was a dab hand at it – but Christabel was a different kettle of fish. People never said no to her and I wasn’t sure how she’d react if I did.
Time to be brave, Alice! Show her what you’re made of.
Sometimes, I really hated the little voice inside my head. It threw out some terrible suggestions. This wasn’t the time to be brave; this was the time to skedaddle before Christabel started to turn the thumbscrews!
I opened my mouth, praying something sensible would come out.
‘Actually, I—’
I was saved from further waffling by Emily coming in with Christabel’s eggs Benedict. My heart rate slowed down and I breathed a silent sigh of relief, flashing Emily a grateful smile as she left. As luck would have it, more Breakfast Club members began to mill in through the front door. They all seemed to want to talk to Christabel about the pantomime, so I was left to tuck into the remainder of my pancakes in peace.
The pantomime bullet had been dodged once again. For now anyway.
If there’s one thing that causes an absolute nightmare for a die-hard Scrooge like myself, it has to be shopping for Christmas presents.
Yet that was exactly what I found myself doing the day after my encounter with Christabel. Mum dragged me to Fox’s to pick up some last-minute bits and pieces, which usually meant eight bags of stuff she’d had no intention of buying when she’d first walked in. The store was pretty dead, even for a Saturday, which made my heart sink. Gary’s revelation that the store was losing money was being proved correct.
‘You should really start doing your shopping in August like I do,’ she said as she pottered about a shelf with several crystal ornaments on it. ‘Saves so much time and trouble.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Mum, I’m an out-of-work actress; I don’t have to worry about saving time! If anything, I’ve got too bloody much of it. Talking of which, I bumped into Christabel at the Breakfast Club yesterday.’
Mum whipped her head round to look at me, as though I’d just told her I’d fought an entire pack of hungry crocodiles. ‘Really?! What did she say?’
‘Asked me if I fancied joining the pantomime,’ I replied with a roll of my eyes. ‘I would’ve said no way, but luckily Emily came in with Christabel’s breakfast. She didn’t mention it again after that.’
I watched my mum closely as she pretended to examine a crystal duck. I couldn’t see her face properly, but I knew her well enough to know when she was gearing up to say something important.
‘You know, I could just see you up on that stage wearing a beautiful ball gown and dancing with a handsome prince. You never know, some hunk might be playing Prince Charming!’
The jovial atmosphere vanished as we locked eyes after her light-hearted remark. I knew she was only making a typical motherly comment and I didn’t take offence, but I could tell she felt like she’d said something wrong.
‘Oh, love, I’m sorry. When I said a hunk, I didn’t—’
I put a hand up to stop her and shook my head. ‘Really, Mum, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.’
Two pops of colour bloomed on her cheeks and she took an even keener interest in the crystal duck than she had before.
‘What do you think about this for Aunt Carole?’ she said, holding it aloft so I could get a good look at it. ‘She’s got a hedgehog and a penguin already; I reckon she’d like this. I-I’ll see what else they’ve got.’
Changing the subject had always been a speciality of hers. She scurried off to peruse the rest of the ornaments before I could reply. Just then, a furious argument erupted nearby. I turned to see Mr Fox arguing with a younger man, who looked to be in his late twenties and was wearing a grey V-neck jumper and a pair of faded jeans. The more I looked at him, I realised that he was the moron who’d shoulder-barged me on my last day at Fox’s.
‘You can’t just turn your back on this, Ethan! You have responsibilities to think about. I won’t be around for ever and I want the family business to stay in the family! You’re my eldest son and it’s about time you started acting like it instead of wasting your time in America.’
The younger man, who I now knew to be called Ethan, rounded on his father, his face contorted with rage. His voice could almost be described as cut-glass, whereas his dad’s was an unmistakable Yorkshire brogue.
‘It may have escaped your notice, Dad, but I have a successful career and a life of my own back in the States! I’m sorry I’m not prepared to drop everything I’ve worked for to come and bail this place out, but what do you expect? And for your information, I’m not wasting my time. My last movie was nominated for a BAFTA, but I don’t suppose you care about that.’
A BAFTA eh? I looked at Ethan again and frowned; his face was vaguely familiar but I couldn’t quite place him. I hadn’t been to the cinema much since Jamie had died, so I wasn’t up
