Читать книгу The Sweethearts Collection - Pam Jenoff - Страница 41

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Chapter 31

The necklace stabbed frantically at Colenso’s chest but she didn’t need it to tell her she’d said the wrong thing. Her heart was doing that. Before she could say anything, though, Kitto had snapped the little box shut and replaced it in his pocket. She knew she’d hurt him, but by the time he turned to face her, he’d regained his composure.

‘I’ll not deny I’m disappointed, Cali, especially as being able to buy you a nice ring was the main reason for me taking the job at Wherrytown. But if you’re not sure about us, well …’ he shrugged.

‘I thought I needed time to think but …’ she began.

‘You’ll have plenty of that while I’m away,’ he cut in, smiling sadly as he got to his feet. ‘I’ll be in touch when I get back.’

‘Back?’ she frowned. ‘Back from where?’

‘London. I’ve to supervise delivery of a cargo of serpentine shopfronts. Like I said earlier, being the new boy, I get given all the good jobs at the works.’

‘How long will you be away?’

‘Depends on the weather. Hopefully I’ll be back for Christmas. Take care of yourself,’ he said, hurrying towards the door.

‘And you,’ she whispered, too stunned to move. It was the pentacle’s sharp stabbing that brought her to her senses. Why was she letting him go like this? Jumping up, she rushed to the door but by the time she’d got outside, he’d already disappeared. It was only then she realized she didn’t even know where he was staying.

Tears welled as she stood there cursing her stupidity. A gust of wind blew in from the sea, bringing with it a squall of rain and, knowing it would be futile to walk around looking for him, she headed back to the shop. As she let herself into the workshop, Garren looked up from the copper he was stirring, his eyes widening in alarm.

‘Whatever’s the matter? You look half-drowned.’

‘For heaven’s sake, son, don’t waste time asking daft questions,’ Mr Goss snapped. ‘Go and get out of those wet things, my girl. We’ll have a hot drink ready when you get back,’ he told her, putting down the mould he was using and gently leading her to her room. His caring concern brought a fresh flood of tears as Colenso hurried inside. Then, heedless of her wet clothes, she threw herself down on her bed, crying as if her heart would break.

It was some time later when, exhausted and with no tears left, she changed out of her wet things and emerged. Garren and his father were working at the cooling tables.

‘Ah, there you are,’ Mr Goss said. ‘What do you think of this little lot?’ Grateful for his tact, she went over and looked at the new batch of sugar mice. Their little pink eyes must surely reflect her own, she thought. ‘Good eh? Thought it was time I supervised the making of the Christmas confections. Right, now sit yourself down, girl. Garren, have you got the tea poured yet? I could murder a slice of that shortbread her next door brought round earlier,’ he added, rubbing his hands together. ‘Thought there must be another fire, the way you rushed in,’ he told Colenso.

His easy chattering and the hot tea revived her somewhat, although she was still cursing her stupidity. Still, Kitto said he should be back by Christmas and that was only three weeks or so away. She’d tell him she would be delighted to accept his beautiful garnet then.

‘There’s always so much to do at this time of year,’ Mr Goss was saying. ‘Although it won’t be the same without Meggie.’

‘Oh Mr Goss, I’m so sorry. There’s me wallowing in self-pity while you’re suffering.’ Without thinking, she reached out and patted the old man’s hand. ‘And I’m sorry about earlier,’ she said, feeling she should explain. ‘Kitto, my follower, told me he has to take a cargo to London and I got upset because he’ll be away for three weeks or so.’ It was the truth if not the whole story, but she didn’t feel up to admitting her folly.

‘Life can be difficult, throwing unexpected things our way,’ Mr Goss murmured. ‘I thought having a bit of free time would be of benefit, but it’s keeping busy that stops me moping. Silly old fool, I’ve only just realized that.’ Knowing he was trying to help, Colenso smiled. As he sipped his tea, lost in his memories, she became aware of Garren watching her.

‘I’ll not be going out on Sundays between now and Christmas, so I’ll be pleased to help with the extra preparations,’ she told him. When he didn’t reply, she added: ‘If you want me, that is.’

‘Oh, I do,’ she thought he murmured but he’d buried his head in his mug and she couldn’t be sure.

The days leading up to Christmas passed in a blur of making and selling sweets, and Colenso was able to keep her thoughts of Kitto at bay. It was during the long nights that she lay in bed thinking of him, rehearsing what she would say to him. She couldn’t believe she’d been so insensitive. Sorry just didn’t seem enough somehow. Love is a precious thing, Colenso, so think hard before you throw it away on perceived grievances. She heard Mara’s words as clearly if she was standing right beside her. How could she have been so stupid as to worry that he hadn’t come after her quickly enough? Surely the important thing was that he’d cared enough to come at all?

She remembered the red serpentine heart he’d polished and engraved with their initials. It must have taken him ages to do and proved he loved her, didn’t it? What if she were to make him a similar token in order to prove her love for him? They were bound to be making more fondant and she was sure Garren would let her have some. She could fashion a heart, colour it red, then carve their initials into it. Happy with her idea, she fell asleep at last.

Just as Garren had predicted, the nearer it got to the big day, the busier the shop became. Even the windy, wet weather didn’t deter the customers, and an air of excitement and anticipation hung in the air.

‘Could I please buy a portion of that?’ she asked Garren as he prepared the fondant to make their last batch of sugar mice.

‘You can certainly have some but there’s no need to buy it. Cut off what you need.’

‘Thank you but I’d feel better if I paid,’ she told him.

‘Still the proud woman, I see,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘What do you want it for, if I might ask?’

‘To make a present and if I may also use a drop of red colouring, I’d be grateful.’ This time Garren threw back his head and laughed.

‘You hear that, Father? Colenso, who’s been serving in the shop by day and helping us in here each evening, would be grateful for a drop of red colouring.’

‘Don’t mock, Garren,’ the old man remonstrated. ‘It’s nice to see a young girl with manners.’

‘It is. Sorry, Father,’ he replied, looking so chastened that Colenso had to stifle a giggle. ‘We are truly obliged for all your help, Colenso. I was going to give you something for Boxing Day but you can have the fondant and colouring with our compliments instead,’ he quipped, a gleam of mischief sparking in his hazel eyes. It was then she realized he’d been quiet of late and that she’d missed his teasing.

‘Why, thank you, kind sir,’ she replied.

‘You’d better cover that fondant to work on later because while Father shapes the mice, we need to make more rock,’ he said, nodding towards the piece she’d set aside.

‘You know I told you we shaped the rock into canes at the Panam?’ she said, duly wrapping her fondant in a cloth.

‘I remember, and I explained why we kept them straight here,’ Garren nodded, looking up from the sugar syrup he was now stirring.

‘Well, why don’t we colour this batch green and red then shape them into canes or crooks, just for Christmas Eve,’ she added quickly when he frowned.

‘That’s a good idea, girl,’ Mr Goss nodded. ‘We could capitalize on the nativity and sell them as shepherd’s crooks. Shame we didn’t think to do it earlier,’ he said, darting his son a look.

They spent the rest of the evening kneading, pulling, colouring and shaping, and by the time they collapsed with their cups of tea, the cooling trays were lined with red and green canes and white sugar mice.

‘Brilliant,’ Garren pronounced, finishing his tea. ‘Now I’ll just fill the jars with the jellied sweets, ready for the orphanage and workhouse. Being Christmas Eve tomorrow, the children will be excited and we mustn’t let them down.’

‘I’ll take them, Garren. I know you’ll be busy with the centrepiece for the window,’ Mr Goss said.

‘Oh, what’s that?’ Colenso asked, looking up from the fondant she was carefully shaping into a heart. The red colouring made it glisten and all she needed to do was carve out their initials. She was sure this would show Kitto how she felt, better than words ever could.

‘Ah ha, you’ll have to wait and see,’ Garren teased. ‘All I’ll say is, prepare to be surprised.’

Colenso woke early the next morning and, knowing they’d be extra busy, she quickly dressed and pulled on her big white apron. She could hear Garren moving around in the workshop and so, honouring her promise not to go in there until he said she could, she let herself into the shop. It was her favourite time of day and, humming a carol softly, she set about getting the shop ready for opening. The tantalizing smell of peppermint, fruits and nuts filled the air and she bustled around making sure the displays looked enticing. Garren had told her to leave the middle window empty and, although he didn’t say why, she knew it must be for his centrepiece.

Seeing one of the jars half-empty, she refilled it with the jewel-like boiled sweets. A rare ray of sunlight shone on one of the red ones, making it glow. Reminded of the garnet Kitto had offered her, she snatched it up and held it against her finger, smiling as she imagined wearing his ring. Would it be today he returned, she wondered, excitement fizzing up inside?

‘Ta-da.’ She jumped as Garren came through bearing a platter high in the air. Hastily she returned the sweet to the jar.

‘The pièce de résistance,’ Mr Goss grinned, following his son into the shop.

‘Oh my,’ Colenso gasped, staring in astonishment as Garren carefully placed what looked like a boar’s head in the centre window. Glazed with chocolate, glacé fruit for eyes, and holly in its pricked-up ears, it was truly magnificent. She watched as Mr Goss carefully arranged truffles around the base while Garren stuck spears studded with marzipanned fruits into the sides.

‘It is a replica of what our dear Queen will be having, only hers will be a real one, of course,’ he explained, standing back to study the effect. Mr Goss meanwhile was out on the pavement, giving the thumbs-up. ‘That should draw in the customers,’ he grinned.

Immediately a crowd gathered, pointing excitedly at the centrepiece and all the other confections. Then the little bell tinkled, and amid much exclaiming the day got off to a good start.

‘We’ve not even had time for a cup of tea,’ Garren moaned, but she could see he was pleased. The boar’s head certainly proved a draw and they were so busy it took all three of them to keep up with the incessant flow of customers.

‘Good idea, that,’ Mr Goss said later as he put the last of the candy crooks into a bag. ‘There you go, my lovely,’ he said, handing it to a little girl whose eyes were shining with delight. ‘Don’t forget to think of the shepherds who visited baby Jesus, will you?’ He turned to Garren. ‘Which reminds me, I must get those jellied sweets over to the workhouse and orphanage or there’ll be some very disappointed children. I’ll pick up some bread and ham on my way back and expect a cuppa ready when I return.’

‘Goodness, it’s almost noon,’ Garren exclaimed, looking at the clock above the door. ‘No wonder I’m parched. You must be starving, Colenso, we didn’t even get to break our fast this morning.’ She was about to offer to put the kettle on to heat when the door opened and another group of excited children descended, their harassed parents following behind. They stood looking at all the sweets, trying to decide what to choose while the adults tried to hurry them along. Once they’d finally departed, bags clutched eagerly in their hands, Garren hurried to lock the door, declaring it was definitely time for a break. Snatching up the cash tin, he led the way through to the workshop where he began counting up the money while Colenso went outside to the pump.

The kettle was boiling, the mugs and plates set ready on the table when Mr Goss finally returned.

‘At last, my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut,’ Garren sighed then he took a closer look at his father and frowned. ‘Whatever is the matter? You haven’t overdone it, have you?’ he asked, his voice rising as his father slumped into a chair. The old man shook his head.

‘I think you’d better sit down, Colenso,’ he said, pulling out her chair. ‘After I delivered the sweets for the children, I felt in need of a breath of air and went for a stroll. There were a group of men from the Wherrytown works gathered on the harbour. It would appear their barge got caught up in a storm and, I’m sorry, dear,’ he said, taking hold of Colenso’s hand. ‘It’s believed it went down, with all lives lost.’

‘What? But that can’t be right,’ she gasped, shaking her head. ‘I haven’t given Kitto his present yet.’

The Sweethearts Collection

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