Escape for Christmas

Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Brody picked up Carl’s empty glass. ‘I’ll get this round. It’s the least I can do, for bending your ear for the past half an hour.’

‘Do you mind making it a G it was all I was thinking about, and she must have felt the same, but I pulled back before things went any further. That was excruciating enough, but then Tegan arrived.’

‘What? In the stable?’ Carl let out a gasp.

‘No, thank goodness, but my mother almost walked in on us when she came to find me.’

‘But nothing actually happened?’ Carl checked.

‘No, but even though nothing happened, I suspect Mum would have to be blind not to have sensed there was a connection between Sophie and me. The thing is Sophie didn’t even know I was engaged. I guess when she first arrived she wasn’t close enough to be one of the people I shared that with—’ Brody broke off, realising what a mess he’d got into.

‘And then, by the time we were friends, I’d found out that Tegan had cheated on me, so I wanted to talk about it even less,’ he went on. ‘But now – because Sophie just heard “engaged” and doesn’t know the real story – she’s absolutely furious with me, and rightly so. I bumped into her this morning and she wouldn’t even look at me; she thinks I’m the spawn of the Devil and a right bastard.’

Carl pondered for a moment, then shrugged. ‘Well, you can’t really blame her, can you?’

‘No.’ Once again Brody was confronted by the memory of Sophie’s face: her disappointment, hurt and disgust.

‘Oh my, what a tangled web you weave.’

‘I honestly didn’t mean to.’

‘Look, I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but … Have you ever thought that you’re tying yourself in knots trying to keep everyone else around you happy, at the expense of your own happiness?’

‘I can’t let people down,’ Brody replied softly.

‘Buddy, sometimes you have to let them down or go under yourself. I know you hate disappointing anyone, but I think maybe you’ve gone too far the other way, and now you’re over-compensating when it comes to family.’

Carl’s comment cut through him. Brody did feel guilty about putting his vocation as a vet first; and maybe, because of the similarities between what had happened to his dad and Tegan’s, he wanted to do everything he could to make sure things turned out differently this time.

‘Or perhaps – and forgive the cliché – maybe you simply haven’t found the right girl yet. And yes, I am including Tegan in that list … But what about Sophie? Do you think once you’re able to explain, she’ll understand?’

‘I’ve liked her since she first trod in donkey dung in my stable yard.’ Brody smiled. ‘She came round to introduce herself shortly after she moved in, and Gabriel had left a present in the yard. She was so eager to say hello that she stepped right in it.’ He winced, but felt happy inside. ‘I spent ages scrubbing her boot while she sat on a hay bale.’

‘Sounds like a match made in heaven.’ Carl chuckled.

‘It sounds silly, but I found myself looking forward to seeing Sophie or hoping to bump into her. When I saw her name on the appointment list at the surgery, I couldn’t wait for her to bring the cats in.’

‘And it sounds like she’s clearly fallen for your rugged charms, otherwise she wouldn’t be so upset now, would she?’ Carl went on.

Brody snorted. ‘I hope you’re right about Sophie, although I don’t have rugged charms.’

‘Now you’re fishing! You know very well that half the village fancies the scrubs off your handsome arse.’

‘You don’t,’ Brody said, his toes curling in embarrassment.

Carl rolled his eyes. ‘That’s because: A, you’re not my type; and B, I know where your hands have been.’

Brody finally erupted in laughter. ‘God, Carl, I’m sorry. You invite me for a Christmas drink and all I do is bring along my own personal raincloud and unleash a deluge on you. I haven’t asked you how you are, or how you’re spending Christmas? Still going to your sister’s?’

‘Don’t worry – it’s what mates are for. I’m going to my sister’s later today, and my parents are coming too.’

‘That will be nice. Some family time,’ Brody said, knowing that Carl was part of a close-knit unit.

‘It should be, though I doubt I’ll have much time to relax. I’m the only one who knows how to deal with the turkey. Or the whole dinner, to be honest.’

‘You love cooking, though?’

‘I do, and I shall probably have to go all Gordon Ramsay and start barking at people.’ He grinned. ‘It’s the one day when I can be as bossy as I like and no one in my family minds a bit.’

‘You’ll be in your element,’ Brody replied, finally smiling and feeling better, after having Carl to chat to. At least there would be one household experiencing uncomplicated peace, joy and harmony – up to a point.

‘If you need me, though, you only have to call; and I’m around on Boxing Day – ish.’

‘“ Ish ?”’ Brody queried, intrigued.

‘Someone from mountain rescue asked me if I wanted to go for a Boxing Day hike on the fells with him.’

‘Mountain rescue?’ Brody couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘You’re not in the mountain-rescue team.’

‘Not at the moment,’ Carl said. ‘You never know, I might volunteer after Boxing Day. They’re always looking for people to hand out flapjacks and hot soup in the middle of the night.’

Brody laughed, before jokily winding up Carl about the man he was meeting up with. They stayed and talked for another half-hour before they both headed home, Carl on foot to his cottage in the village and Brody to his car at the surgery. With every step, his happier mood ebbed away. He was due to spend the evening with Tegan when she came back from her parents’, and they were going back there with his mother on Christmas Day to spend it together with the families.

He thought of Carl and his family, laughing and getting under each other’s feet in the kitchen. He thought of Sophie, trying to entertain her guests, and hoped they’d both be having a better time of it.

He turned on the windscreen wipers to clear the icy sleet that was falling from the skies. As he passed the last of the Christmas lights decorating the ferry houses by the lake, he thought about his dad and what he might have said about the ‘right old pickle’ Brody was in.

Brody hoped he would have approved of lying to spare someone’s feelings and to protect their health, but he wasn’t sure. His dad was always such a straight talker, and Brody worried that he wouldn’t be proud of him, for this or the way his life had turned out.

No answers came and he drove on up the fells, his headlamps highlighting the snow settling on the stone walls and fields. The wheel wobbled and he found his eyes wet with tears. Suddenly he missed his father as much as the day he’d lost him. He dreaded the sham that awaited him at home and had never felt less festive in his life. Even though it had been years since his dad passed, this time of year always made him miss the loved ones who weren’t there.