Читать книгу Christmas on Rosemary Lane - Ellen Berry - Страница 12

Two weeks later, Ivan launched into his new routine of heading off to work at six every Monday morning and being gone until Friday evening. Lucy could hardly believe this had been thrown at her, with virtually no warning – but then, that was the way his business worked. It was full on, all-hands-on-deck and, admittedly, Ivan was being well rewarded by his employer. However, it required a big adjustment on Lucy’s side. Apart from the wrench of saying goodbye, there were practical aspects to consider; specifically, how could one person simultaneously serve up home-cured Yorkshire bacon to guests whilst chivvying two boisterous children into getting ready and ferrying them to school?

It was impossible, of course, and as Lucy felt uncomfortable relying on her still-new local friends, she decided to enlist some help. In stepped Rikke, the Danish woman in her late twenties who worked part-time at Della’s bookshop as well as giving swimming lessons in Heathfield, and harp recitals locally. She quickly proved herself to be quite the godsend.

Marnie and Sam adapted fairly easily to their dad being away during the week. It’s not that they didn’t miss him; more that children tend to exist in the here and now, and often possess a talent for simply getting on with things. Whereas they used to cause havoc whilst getting ready in the mornings, ‘losing’ their shoes and suddenly finding themselves splattered with hot chocolate, they would now be eerily helpful and ready in good time for Rikke to pick them up. They would probably have been ready at five a.m. – with shoes polished – if required, so keen were they to impress her.

Within a few weeks, Lucy had managed to adjust too. ‘It’s amazing what you can get used to,’ she told Della when she’d popped into the bookshop one bright and breezy late October afternoon. ‘If someone had told me Ivan would be away during the week, I’d have said it’d be a disaster for us. But in some ways …’ She paused.

‘It’s made things better?’ Della suggested.

Lucy winced. ‘I feel terrible for saying it, and of course I miss him. But I must admit, he was getting pretty grumpy with the day-to-day stuff.’

‘What kind of stuff?’ Della asked with a wry smile.

‘Oh, the change-overs, mostly. Cleaning rooms, scrubbing loos.’ She paused and smirked. ‘Ironing sheets …’

‘But guests can’t have wrinkled sheets,’ Della exclaimed in mock horror.

‘They absolutely can’t.’ Lucy grinned. ‘And as for the people aspect – well, you know Ivan’s sociable enough, when he’s in the mood. But with guests, you have to be more—’

‘More “on”?’ remarked Frank, Della’s husband, as he wandered into the shop.

‘Yes. That’s exactly what Ivan called it.’ Lucy laughed. ‘“I’m not like you,” he kept telling me. “I can’t be on all the time.”’

‘I guess running a B&B isn’t everyone’s cup of tea,’ Frank added. ‘Cutting the toast into perfect triangles—’

‘Oh, I’m a stickler for that,’ Lucy chuckled, ‘with my ruler and set square.’

‘You are a natural at it, though,’ Della added, handing Lucy a coffee from the percolator. ‘Frank, how many times have Lucy’s guests told us how much they’re loving their stay?’

‘Tons,’ he said. ‘You’re obviously doing something right.’

‘I’m glad to hear that,’ Lucy said, and she caught Della’s eye and grinned. She knew her friend was delighted to see her childhood home lavished with care and attention after decades of neglect.

Having chosen a vintage French cookbook, Lucy strolled through the village to pick up Marnie and Sam from school. It was true that she missed Ivan, and by Friday afternoons she was desperate to hear his car pulling up outside the cottage. But they were still a team, just as he’d said when he’d dropped the bombshell about the job last month. Ivan wasn’t a man to break a promise. Lucy had known that, instinctively, on the day they’d met, on that Euston-to-Manchester-Piccadilly train.

She wasn’t normally one for chatting to strangers on journeys. Usually, she preferred to read or simply enjoy watching the landscape sliding by. But that day she’d fallen into conversation with the cute stranger in glasses sitting opposite. When a sudden heavy snowfall caused a two-hour delay, she had been a tiny bit pleased.

Actually, extremely pleased. The weekend at an old college friend’s in London had been fun, but meeting Ivan on the journey home had been the icing on the cake. He had made her laugh, fetched them wine from the buffet carriage and they’d got tipsy together. They were at a standstill, not yet halfway home. While other passengers were moaning loudly to each other, and venting their frustrations to the train staff, Lucy had barely noticed time slipping by. We’re sorry about this continued delay, came yet another announcement. We’re hoping to get moving again very soon …

‘I hope we don’t,’ Ivan had said with a smile that caused her heart to flip. ‘I’m enjoying this journey.’

‘Me too,’ Lucy had said. His eyes were lovely, she’d noticed; dark as espresso with long black lashes. She could hardly tear her gaze away from them.

‘So, what d’you do for a living?’ he’d asked.

Bingo! ‘I work in lingerie,’ she’d replied.

‘Really?’ His eyebrows had shot up. ‘And I thought my workplace was relaxed.’

She’d smiled. ‘It’s a lingerie retailer, although sometimes I think it’d be better if we only sold knickers—’

‘Then you could say, “I work in pants”?’

‘Exactly.’ That – or perhaps the wine they’d been sharing – set them off sniggering, and by the time they’d arrived at their home city they had swapped numbers and vowed to meet.

That had been over thirteen years ago. Three years later, she and Ivan were married, and a couple of years after that she was pregnant with Marnie, then Sam followed. Pre-Ivan, Lucy had never lived with a boyfriend or even had anything particularly serious. She’d had wild crushes and the odd, fairly short-lived relationship, but there’d been no one she’d remotely imagined a future with. Thank God for freak snow, she’d often thought. And now, as the softly weathered village primary school came into view, Lucy decided Ivan had been right in that their weekends would now feel more special. While there were often guests to look after, they were usually out during the day – and Lucy and Ivan seemed to appreciate each other like never before.

They were so lucky, she reflected as she spotted her new friends clustered by the school gate. She and Ivan had lost a baby, but they had Marnie and Sam and, of course, each other. Now, with Ivan working flat out during the week, it seemed as if they were conscious of making the most of every day they had together.

A few weeks later, when Lucy recalled thinking this, it chilled her to the bones.