Winter Magic in Port Berry (Port Berry #3)

Chapter 19

Will

The annual Christmas tree lighting at Old Market Square was supposed to be a happy event, but Will couldn’t find his holly jolly anywhere.

All around were food stalls and smiling faces. The church choir was on top form, belting out merry songs while the bell ringers rang their instruments lined up on tables over by the entrance to Anchorage Park.

Will was due to perform with the Berry Buoys later to raise some money to buy chickens for the Christmas parcels. He was in no mood, and the reindeer antlers Jed stuck on his head didn’t help matters.

The smell of hotdogs filled the air along with laughter and light snowflakes. Councillor Seabridge was gathering people closer to the tall Christmas tree while little children ran around his podium, waving tinsel hats and candy canes.

Will gazed at the steeple of the beautiful stone-built church peeping over a small hill, no more than a two-minute walk away, wondering if sitting inside might help clear his muggy head. He had a rotten cold, his throat was itchy, his eyes weary, and his heart torn in two by Ginny, who for some reason had practically stabbed him with a star a few days ago. He had thought about running after her, even contacting her the next day, but things seemed so messy between them. He really had no idea what to do for the best so ended up doing nothing at all.

Jed came bustling through the crowd, holding a disposable cup filled with mulled wine. ‘Neck that, son. It’ll sort your pipes.’

Will sniffed the drink, wishing he could simply snuggle in bed with some honey and lemon. Ginny would be another choice, but the idea of her becoming his partner had flown south for the winter. Probably forever, knowing his luck. Why did she get so far into his heart? He sipped the warm liquid and sighed. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to sing, mate.’

‘Course you will.’

‘I’ll make us sound off.’

Jed flapped a hand, then used his other to wave at whoever it was dressed as Father Christmas. ‘If it gets too bad, just mime. I swear that’s what Artie does.’ He slapped Will on the back, making him cough. ‘Catch you later.’

Will sneezed, then blew his nose while glancing around to see who else was about.

Sophie and Matt were huddled in their white seafood truck, selling small pots of prawns among other snackable dishes, and they had drawn quite a few customers their way.

Will imagined his tearoom having its own market stall. Yep, cupcakes and Christmas-themed cookies would go down a treat on such a day. He mentally added it to his list, then wondered if Ginny would hate him even more.

Building a life in Port Berry wasn’t as much fun any longer, and he was considering leaving. He could still live somewhere close to his grandmother, even though she no longer knew who he was, but the old fishing village had already got its hooks into him, or rather Ginny had. He really had to do something about their lack of relationship, but what?

‘Hi, Will,’ said Alice, passing with Benny. ‘We’re off to get a hot chocolate before the lights go on. You want one?’

He held up his drink. ‘All good, thanks.’ He sneezed again as they walked away.

Spencer and Robson were playing with the bells, laughing while trying to join in with the singers, and Will wished he could feel as carefree. He was waved over their way but declined, turning towards a winding road that led to a row of quaint cottage-style shops, hoping to find a chemist.

Nothing was open except a small slightly lopsided pub called The Crooked Hole.

Will tossed his drink into a nearby bin as he debated going home or grabbing a brandy, but then the noise around him grew louder, informing him of the tree lighting ceremony.

Following the moving crowd, Will made his way back to the square, finding a bit of space over at Sea Shanty Shack’s trailer.

Councillor Seabridge addressed his audience. ‘Hello, and welcome. I hope you’ve all had time to write down your wishes for the tree.’ He gave a nod over to a table where people scribbled notes onto paper stars, sealing them in plastic baubles.

Will hadn’t noticed that before. What could he wish for that he hadn’t been wishing for his whole life?

‘Make sure you do one,’ said a small voice from behind him.

He turned to see Luna smiling his way. ‘Not sure I believe in wishes anymore.’

Luna shoved a piece of her flyaway white hair under her woolly red hat. ‘It’s Christmas, Will. Time for miracles.’

He huffed out a laugh. Snuggling down into his navy scarf he turned back to the tree.

‘On the count of three,’ boomed Councillor Seabridge, even though he had a microphone wedged onto the lectern.

The crowd began the count. Will was quite possibly the only one there not to join in, and not because of his sore throat but because he felt deflated.

Suddenly multicoloured lights filled the square, causing lots of oohs and cooing.

‘Now, children first,’ said Councillor Seabridge, smiling widely as the little ones approached to hang their wishes.

Will thought about the star hanging in his bedroom at the B he didn’t need to add creepy tinkling music into his aching eardrums.

The ducks huddled on the other side of the water, showing no interest in burger bun crumbs or dropped crisps.

It was nice sitting alone in the dim light of a park lamp while gentle snowflakes continued to fall. The noise around him was muffled and the air not so stuffy from a hundred different scents.

Maybe it was staring at the water that calmed him, or perhaps it was feeding his weary body that relaxed him somewhat. All he knew was, for the first time that day, he felt settled.

‘Mind if I join you?’ asked someone behind him.

Yes, actually. I want to be alone.

He glanced over his shoulder to see Robson, holding a cardboard box filled with fish and chips. ‘Sure.’

Robson sat down, offering a chip.

Will raised his biodegradable box. ‘Got my own, thanks. You after a bit of peace as well?’

‘Hmm,’ replied Robson, snaffling a hot chip. ‘Might as well put my feet up while I can. Gets busy at the pub this time of year.’

‘Yeah, I can imagine. Let me know if you need an extra set of hands for anything.’ Will lifted his half-eaten burger. ‘I’m sure I can pull a few pints or something.’

Robson laughed. ‘I might hold you to that.’

Will swallowed some more food, sitting in silence for a while. ‘Do you get much family time when you have a pub?’

‘I haven’t got any family around here, Will. My aunt and uncle, who raised me, moved to Australia, so just me now. Well, and my Port Berry lot. Can’t shake them off if I tried.’ He nudged Will’s elbow. ‘Come to the pub for Crimbo dinner, won’t you? We’ll all be there.’

Mabel had offered to cook for him that day, but he knew she normally spent Christmas with her friends, as Alice had told him, so he pretended he had something planned. He was invited to his grandmother’s care home but declined, afraid in case he scared Babs again.

‘Yeah, I’ll be there. Thanks, mate.’

‘No worries,’ said Robson, continuing to eat. ‘You’re one of us now.’

‘People keep telling me that.’ Doubt Ginny feels the same.

‘Port Berry is an easy place to fit into, Will. There’s always something going on and plenty of people to chat to.’

Will chuckled. ‘You would say that. You own a pub.’

Robson nodded. ‘You do hear some stories.’

‘Yeah? What’s yours?’

‘All a bit doom and gloom for this time of year.’

‘Not sure why we’re supposed to be so happy just because it’s Christmas. Loads of people get depressed in December.’

Robson slowly nodded as he ate more chips. ‘Yeah, it can be lonely too. Well, I’m too busy to think about missing my wife, but it still slips in when I’m about to pull a cracker or something.’

Will had heard bits and pieces about everyone in Port Berry, thanks mostly to Mabel and Jed, so he knew Robson’s wife had died of breast cancer at a young age. ‘Sorry about your wife,’ was all he could think to say.

‘Ah, me too, mate. It just goes to show, you never know what’s round the next corner.’

Will had seen how close Ginny was with Robson, and as much as he didn’t want to ask, the thought of some history between them niggled at him. ‘You ever thought about seeing someone again? I noticed you and Ginny . . .’

‘Whoa!’ Robson laughed, wiping his mouth from the vinegar-drenched chip he’d just shoved in. ‘You don’t have any worries about me with our Gin. She’s like a sister.’

‘I wasn’t worried.’ He totally lied and got the impression Robson knew.

‘You were so worried.’

Will muffled his laugh, prompting a cough and sneeze. Apologizing, he laughed again. ‘Am I that obvious?’

Robson offered an unopened bottle of water that Will gladly took. ‘It’s more Ginny who is that obvious. Look, mate, I’ve known her a long time, and I can see her major crush on you.’

‘Major crush?’

‘Yep.’

Will wasn’t sure if that snippet of intel was helpful or not. ‘I think she’s changed her mind about how she feels about me. I pissed her off.’

‘Ooh, tell all.’

Will shook his head, more so at himself. ‘I bought that perfume shop round by Mabel’s. My plan is to turn it into a tearoom.’

‘Brilliant idea.’

‘Seems Ginny thought that too. Just not for me.’

‘She’ll get over it. She’s got one of the best businesses along Harbour End Road.’

Will didn’t feel like eating any more of his food. He plopped his rubbish into the bin by the bench, then flopped back. ‘Yeah, I know, but she had this dream, so she said.’

‘I think she’s focusing on her new dream now, so don’t worry too much about it, Will.’

That was news to him. ‘What new dream?’ His gut churned, dreading Robson would say she was moving away.

‘She’s moving.’

Will’s rotten cold seem to escalate, making him slightly light-headed. ‘Leaving?’ He cleared his throat, acting as if it was the soreness that caused his word to break, rather than his deflated heart.

‘Only inland. She’s in talks with Artie Lane about buying his dad’s old farmhouse. Reckons she’s going to have rescue chickens or something. I’m sure she mentioned a donkey, unless that was something to do with Christmas.’

Will laughed to himself.

Ah, Ginny, you go for it, love.

‘If you like her, Will, don’t hang about, eh, mate? If my life can teach you anything, it’s life’s too short.’

Right there and then, in among the muffled chimes of fairground music and the faint scent of Robson’s fish and chip supper, Will decided it was time to rearrange his own plans. His friend was right. Life was short, and he needed to live out what time he had left as best he could.

‘Achoo!’

But first he needed a good night’s sleep.