Chloe’s Cornish Christmas (The Blossomwood Bay #7)

Chapter Twenty One

When they emerged from the village hall, Chloe was shocked to see that the clear skies and sunshine of the afternoon had morphed into large, bulbous, grey clouds bearing down on the village and sending a smattering of rain onto everything in their path. She pulled up her hood, and with Nick’s hand in hers, she sprinted across the green to the cosy warmth of the pub, making it just in time before the heavens opened to send down a deluge of epic proportions.

She shared a celebratory drink with the cast and crew of what everyone was calling the “best pantomime in the whole of Cornwall”, laughed at their anecdotes about previous village pantomimes, and joined in when they performed a rendition of “Deck the Halls”. The atmosphere was fun, friendly and inclusive, with everyone complimenting each other on the professionalism of their performance.

She was particularly thrilled when she saw Hannah chatting to Jake, their body language, at least, suggesting they were a couple. Chloe was curious to know what had prompted the closeness, but she didn’t want to interrupt their moment by asking her whether Hannah had utilised the fairywand biscuits she and Nick had made. When the crowd started to thin, with people expressing concern about the continuing downpour and mentioning the problems they’d experienced the previous week when bridges had been washed away, Nick suggested that they also made a dash back to the Range Rover.

Despite borrowing Nick’s jacket, Chloe ended up soaked to the skin, with goosebumps skittering across her arms as she turned the car heater up to maximum in the hope that her teeth would stop chattering. When the Mariah Carey classic came on the radio, she launched into a high-octane version, singing at the top of her voice, thrilled when Nick joined her, which definitely warmed her heart, if not her fingers and toes.

Once at the farmhouse, Nick parked underneath the canopy and they dashed inside, laughing as they headed to the kitchen to dry off and warm themselves in front of the Aga. Mitzy, who had performed a vigorous shake upon entry, sending a shower of raindrops onto both of them, retired to her basket as though they had been personally responsible for causing her discomfort.

‘Coffee? Or something stronger?’ asked Nick.

‘I’d love a brandy, please. For medicinal reasons, of course.’

‘Of course.’

Nick poured them both a brandy, then sat next to Chloe at the table, leaning back in his chair, his ankle resting on his knee as he nursed his glass. The rain continued to lash unrelentingly against the windowpanes, and the only light in the room came from the twinkling Christmas tree lights, creating an almost hypnotical ambience as the warmth seeped into Chloe’s veins and her fingertips tingled as they defrosted.

‘I could get used to this,’ Nick murmured as he sipped his drink.

Chloe smiled. ‘Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about staying on here to help your aunt with the orchard?’

‘What? No, of course not!’

The sharpness of Nick’s tone was so at odds with the comfortable togetherness that had permeated the atmosphere between them for the last few hours that Chloe was shocked by his abrupt response. When she caught his eye, she saw that same glint of alarm she’d seen a few times now, like a wounded animal afraid that its attacker would return to finish the job. Her shock subsided quickly, replaced by a craving for Nick to let her in, to tell her what had caused his reaction, so she could offer the same understanding and support as he had offered to her the night of the cocktail event.

‘Nick, if you want to talk…’ She paused, offering him an encouraging smile, and when he didn’t respond, she continued. ‘I know there’s something gnawing away at you. It might be buried deep inside, but I can see it, I can feel it, just as you could see my own torment about my situation. If you want to share what’s going on, I promise I’ll listen, without interruption or comment, and I can promise you that it helps to talk about the demons that pursue us.’

She saw Nick avert his gaze from hers, and he began to fiddle with his now-empty brandy glass, turning it round and round in his hand, his fingers trembling as he considered what she had said and how he should respond. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and measured, but with a distinct note of ragged emotion, as though the words were being squeezed out of his mouth against his will.

‘There’s a reason I don’t want to move here, a reason why I prefer the anonymity and privacy offered to those who choose to make the city their home as opposed to small villages like Perrinsby where everyone knows everyone else’s business.’ Nick paused to refill his glass, taking a gulp of brandy before continuing. ‘It’s because… because something happened, a long time ago, but its effects have stayed with me and I never want to go through that again, never.’

Chloe could hear the raw pain in every word Nick spoke but she decided to remain silent, to allow him the time and space to tell his story in the way he wanted, without any prompting from her. After several minutes of silence, he continued.

‘I grew up in a small village in Norfolk; a bit like Perrinsby, I suppose. Mum was involved in various community groups, Dad helped to coach the juniors’ cricket team, and Rufus and I were heavily involved in anything going on at the local sports centre. All was well, or so I thought. When you’re young, you don’t realise what’s going on behind the scenes. We used to come down here to Cornwall every summer to stay with Aunt Ruth and Uncle Martyn, but when we were teenagers, that stopped.

‘I remember asking why. I used to love coming here, as I’ve told you, but I never got a satisfactory explanation, and after a while I stopped asking and found other things to do during the summer holidays; cricket, tennis, swimming, then concentrating on my studies. It wasn’t until later that I found out there had been a disagreement, followed by an estrangement. Neither Rufus nor I had any knowledge of it happening at the time.’

Nick stopped to take another swallow of his brandy, his eyes unfocussed, his thoughts clearly lingering on another, much more distressing time that he struggled to revisit. Nevertheless, he carried on, his voice stronger now, but still filled with emotion.

‘Then, when I was in the sixth form and Rufus the year below, it all came out. Unbeknown to us, it turned out that Dad’d had a serious gambling problem for years, since he met Mum really, which had been getting steadily worse until one day the court bailiffs showed up at the door to evict us from our home. It was as though one minute everything was fine, the next our world had come tumbling down. And to make matters worse, it was the day before Christmas Eve.

‘Mum had had no idea how bad things were. Oh, she knew about Dad’s addiction, but he’d assured her that he was attending counselling sessions regularly and was on the path to recovery. She knew he’d sold things from the house – including my beloved Gibson SG Standard guitar – but she knew nothing about him taking out loans against the house, or borrowing whatever he could from whatever source was available, which included family, friends, and even one of our neighbours.

‘Mum was absolutely mortified; really embarrassed and ashamed. We lost everything, which in itself was bad enough, but I think she could have coped with that. What she couldn’t handle was the gossip, the dreadful things people were saying about us, about Mum in particular when it was Dad that had got her into the situation. There was a piece in the local newspaper, with photographs of our family, and people we had thought of as friends, colleagues and neighbours had been interviewed, expressing their shock and… speaking at length about how they’d loaned money to my dad and were still waiting for it to be paid back.

‘The gossip went on for months and months, and Mum felt as though all her friends had abandoned her. Not one of them came to her aid when we were homeless, not one of them offered their help, or support. They just assumed Mum had known and conspired to cover for Dad, and so they turned their backs on her; friends she had known for years. It was truly awful.’

This time when Nick paused, Chloe moved forward to take his hand in hers. Her heart went out to him, and his family, for what they had endured through no fault of their own, and she could feel tears smart at the corners of her eyes.

‘Rufus and I were both sidelined at school, or completely ignored, but I only had six months until I sat my A levels, then went off to university, and Rufus is made of sturdier stuff than me. He’s a talented sportsman, so he just poured all his energy and emotions into winning the inter-schools cup in football and tennis, which helped to ease any issues he faced.

‘But Mum just couldn’t deal with what people were saying about us. The rumours continued and became even more vitriolic and bizarre, and she couldn’t go anywhere without receiving dirty looks or hearing whispers about what she’d “done”. In the end, she was too embarrassed to leave the house, and twelve months later, almost to the day of the visit from the bailiffs, she suffered a heart attack and passed away. We didn’t need the doctors to tell us what had caused it; we knew it was because the stress of what she had been through was simply too much to bear.’

Chloe couldn’t hold back any longer and tears trickled slowly down her cheeks.

‘I’m so sorry, Nick.’

‘That was over fifteen years ago. Dad moved to Greece – a tiny island off Aegina where no one knew him or what he’d done – and he lived there for five years until he too passed away. Since then, I decided that I would make my home in a place where no one knows their neighbours; where they’re from, what their background is, what they do for a living, whether you are happy or sad, comfortable or struggling, because they’re too busy worrying about their own lives and their own problems to take an interest in anyone else’s. I prefer it that way; I prefer the privacy, and I appreciate the anonymity.’

Nick paused, lost in his thoughts.

Chloe knew there were no words she could say to alleviate Nick’s pain after what he had just told her, so she simply sat there, holding his hand, her fingers laced through his, and gave it a supportive squeeze. He nodded his appreciation, but continued to stare at the glass in his other hand as though there was some kind of solace to be found in its depth, as he relived the torment of what his family had been through.

She had no idea how he had managed to deal with the situation he had found himself in, and listening to his story made her realise that while her story had some similarities – they had both lost their mums far too soon – the background to those two tragic events were very different.

As she sat there, in the silence of the farmhouse kitchen, a place so conducive to clarity of thought, she realised the devastating impact keeping secrets from those you loved could cause. Maybe if Nick’s father had been honest about his mental health struggles, things wouldn’t have deteriorated to such an extent, and maybe they could have found an alternate solution. His lack of honesty had had devastating consequences.

It was clear how much the traumatic incident had affected Nick, and she understood why he felt the way he did about becoming a member of a small rural community again after what he had been through, but she also knew that not all villages were the same, just as no two people were the same.

She wanted to say this to Nick, but before she could do so, he stood up, thrust back his chair and announced that it was late and they should retire to their respective rooms as they had a great deal to do the next day.

When Chloe lay in her comfortable, cotton-duvet covered bed that night, listening to the rhythmic pitter-patter of the continuing rain on the roof tiles, she felt as though she’d finally seen a glimpse of what made Nick who he was; why he hated the countryside, why he hated Christmas, why he’d stopped playing the guitar, why he craved privacy, and why it had taken him longer than her to reveal the details of the trauma that was eating at his heart.

Now she didn’t just feel closer to him, she felt as though they were soulmates.