eyes was half hopeful and half challenging.
Isaac considered for a moment, fidgeting with his phone on the desk, remembering his mum’s despondence over not seeing him on Christmas Day. He knew she was struggling with the unfairness of life. ‘You want me here to keep the place open on Christmas Day?’
There must have been a loud note of uncertainty in his voice because Tubb sighed. ‘Put it this way, if you can’t then those who’ve signed up for the usual Christmas lunch will be disappointed. I can’t take over the reins again unless the doctors say so. My girlfriend would give me hell.’ He said the word ‘girlfriend’ bashfully. Isaac smothered a smile. He knew from various members of staff that Tubb and Janice had worked together for years and then suddenly fallen for each other last Christmas, surprising the whole village. Tubb, divorced for ages, had fallen like a ton of bricks. Tubb cleared his throat. ‘I thought you’d planned for being available into January.’
Isaac nodded. ‘I had. It’s my parents.’ He explained his father’s illness and his mother’s mood.
‘Got it.’ Tubb picked up a pen and rolled it between his fingers. ‘Your family’s invited to Christmas lunch as guests of the pub, if that helps.’ He checked his watch. ‘Get Lily to tell you about the lunch because she was there last year. You’ll see why I don’t want to shut – some people don’t have other places to go.’
‘Leave it with me.’ Isaac would at least get paid a solid sum for Christmas Day and if he could invite his parents and Flora and the kids then maybe they’d have a great time. He hoped so, anyway.
Once a few other operational matters had been covered they ended the call and Isaac first rang Flora to tell her she had a job, eliciting a whoop of relief and a profusion of thanks, then went online. Black Friday deals were already making an appearance though it was only mid November so he went onto the Mountain Warehouse website and looked at down-filled coats for his parents. Neither of them had looked warm enough in what they were wearing last night and this was going to be a cold winter, by all accounts.
As if to bear him out, a news alert flashed on his phone screen: Brrritain brrraces itself for cold snap!
He pressed ‘buy now’. He should be glad of his uncomplicated family. His mum’s occasional moroseness was nothing in comparison to the way Lily had to walk the tightrope between her families.
‘Are you free tonight? Or is there any chance of you swapping shifts so you can be?’ Zinnia’s voice was cheerful and excited over Lily’s phone.
It was just after lunch on Friday and Lily was at her small workstation, pleasurably knee deep in plans for the Switzerland trip, a big mug of coffee at her elbow and Paramore providing a soundtrack to work to.
She hadn’t heard from her sister since the argument in the car park of The Three Fishes on Monday. Although Lily hated the way things were over her inconvenient desire to know people with whom she shared DNA she’d made no attempt to communicate. Maybe it was guilt … or maybe it was hurt.
She made her tone light and neutral. ‘As it happens, I have this evening off.’
‘Good!’ Zinnia sounded delighted. ‘You know that new club in Bettsbrough – the Ballarat? I know someone working in promotions who’s offered me tickets to the opening shindig tonight. A crowd on opening night will get pictures on all the online nightlife sites. The club’s super-posh and we probably won’t be able to afford to get in once it gets underway.’
Lily hesitated. ‘Don’t you want to take George?’
‘No, I want to take you,’ Zinnia coaxed. ‘Let’s have a fab sisterly evening. I’m sorry for how I’ve been lately. I promise not to go on about family – any family – for the whole evening. As Bettsbrough’s so near your place, I thought I could stay over,’ she went on. ‘We can have a meal at The Three Fishes and then go on to Ballarat for free cocktails. We’ll take a taxi.’
‘Why’s it called the Ballarat?’ Lily played for time, wondering whether Zinnia intended to keep to the letter of her declaration about family or would find a way to work on Lily to leave the village anyway.
‘It’s the place in Australia the woman who owns it comes from,’ Zinnia said impatiently. ‘Please say yes, Lily. My treat.’
She said the last so plaintively that Lily’s heart melted. ‘OK,’ she agreed, opting to take the handsome offer at face value: a chance for them to get back on better terms. ‘It sounds fun.’
Zinnia whooped gleefully. ‘We’ll get really glammed up. What time shall I get to yours?’
After they’d made arrangements Lily spent the rest of the afternoon working on the Switzerland trip, planning the minibus road route through England and France, researching the best motels for the overnight stop in each direction, formulating an estimate of costs for Eddie, Warwick and Alfie to discuss with their parents. The Middletones needed to support themselves so far as eating and drinking was concerned and Switzerland wasn’t cheap, even if travel and accommodation expenses were being picked up by British Country Foods. Because Acting Instrumental students were making up part of the contingent, the college was hiring the twelve-seater minibus to them at cost – though the insurance doubled that.
In just over two weeks they’d be on their way! Lily felt a ball of excitement spin in her stomach as she happily conjured up visions of Christmas markets and processions and snow. Hopefully snow. She looked at the weather app on her phone. Schützenberg was about a thousand metres above sea level but there was no snow yet. In her imagination Swiss winters always meant glorious landscapes of thick, glistening snow looking so much like scenes from advent calendars that the shutters on chalets would pop open to reveal chocolates inside.
She became so buried in her project that she barely left enough time to shower and had to pause in drying her hair to let Zinnia in when she knocked at the French doors. Wearing a big smile and carrying an overnight bag, Zinnia gave Lily a bear hug. ‘This is great! I’m so glad you agreed to come. Do you want me to finish your hair?’
As Zinnia was obviously determined to embrace their sisterly love, Lily relaxed and let her wield the hairdryer, lifting her voice over its drone to update her on the Switzerland plans. Then they put on their make-up, making golf-ball eyes into the mirror while applying eyeliner and mascara. They rarely went clubbing together and it took Lily back to when they were teens living at home with Roma and Patsie. She enjoyed the fuzzy feeling it gave her.
Zinnia unzipped her bag and shook out a fuchsia pink glittery asymmetrical sheath dress, boasting one sleeve and a mid-thigh hemline. ‘Ta dah!’
‘Wow. You meant it when you said “glammed up”.’ Lily caught the sleeve and let the sinuous, slightly scratchy material slither through her fingers.
‘So what have you got?’ demanded Zinnia, throwing open Lily’s wardrobe without ceremony. ‘How about this? This would look amazing.’
Seeing that Zinnia was brandishing a short, sequinned topaz-blue number, Lily clutched her heart and laughed. ‘I haven’t worn it since Bar Barcelona party nights. It’s short.’
‘Perfect for tonight.’ Zinnia laid the shimmering garment on the bed. ‘It’s a par-tay.’
