A December to Remember (90)

When he looked at her, his eyes were full of compassion and worry. “I didn’t know that you actually loved him. I thought it was a fling or something. If I’d known, I never would have . . . We’ll work it out, like we always do, it’ll be okay . . .”

She forced a smile into her trembling lips and tried to make herself sound like a mother and not someone whose life was falling down around her ears.

“Don’t you worry about me. Nothing that a good night’s sleep can’t fix,” she lied.

She left before Patrick had the time to scooch off his bed and give her a hug because a hug in that moment would break her.

Pulling his bedroom door closed behind her, she ran to her room as the tears began to fall. Her head pounded from the pressure of holding in her sorrow. She waited until her face was firmly pressed into her pillow before she gave way and let the torrent roll over her. It was all too much. It wasn’t simply about Joe, though his betrayal had been the final straw. Nor was it only the eviction, or losing her father, or arranging the whole funeral, or losing her business, or organizing a goddamned winter solstice festival, or trying to plan and pay for the Christmas her children deserved, or having to be so fucking upbeat all the time because if she wasn’t, the people around her became nervous, because so long as Maggie was all right, then everything must surely be okay in the end. It wasn’t only the thought of having to pack up her entire life. Or the thought of having to rebuild her business in an unknown location, or having to change careers entirely and start again, be the new girl at forty-four years old.

It was all of those things piling on and turning the screws like she was a flower in a press. And she had lost Joe. Just as she had known she would. All men leave in the end.

Amid it all, she wondered where Joe was now. What was he doing? Was he drowning his sorrows in the pub or had he gone for one of his runs? Was he feeling like she was? God, she hoped so. She didn’t know what to think. Could there have been an explanation like he had intimated? Should she have given him a chance, heard him out?

She turned over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. What did it matter? In the end, everything had played out just as she’d known it would. She’d made her heart vulnerable, and he’d stamped on it.





45





Just after half past eight on Friday morning, the door to North Novelties & Curios crashed open, slamming against the wall and causing multiple wind chimes to jangle.

“Blimey, Patrick!” Star exclaimed. “What did that door ever do to you?”

Betty was bent over Simone’s massive to-do list for the evening’s events, making appreciative noises at the spreadsheet. She’d left Doreen in charge of the café while she came over to check the running order for the day. The folk band had arrived in the early hours in two camper vans, had taken up residence in Betty’s café as soon as it opened, and looked set to stay for the foreseeable future. There was a general feeling of excitement and expectation in the village, despite the early hour.

“Is your mum okay? Something was off with her last night and she’s not returning our calls. Is she coming over?”

“I was just about to go over and check on her,” added Simone.

“I’ve messed up,” said Patrick. His eyes were wide. “I’ve really messed up. I don’t know what to do. You’ve got to help me.”

Simone and Evette immediately took control of the situation.

“Okay, first things first. Is anybody hurt?” asked Evette.

“Define ‘hurt.’?”

“Do we need the emergency services?” Simone snapped. “Is your mum in mortal danger?”

“No.”

“That’s a start, then. Come and sit down,” Star soothed, taking his arm and leading him to the chair that Evette had pulled out for him. Patrick allowed himself to be pushed down into it. “Now, what’s the problem?”

“It’s Joe. Well, it’s Mum but it’s Joe. I got it all wrong and I’ve messed it up royally and now Ma’s heartbroken. She’s trying to pretend she’s okay, but I know she isn’t and it’s all my fault.”

Evette had her head cocked to one side and was nodding calmly, a look of concern and non-judgment on her face; Star surmised this was her professional expression and she was grateful for it.

“Okay, Patrick.” Evette’s voice was smooth like the sea on a calm day. “There’s a lot to unpack here, so let’s take one thing at a time and then we can see how best to help you. Why don’t you start by telling us what happened with Joe?”

Patrick nodded, clearly soothed by Evette’s calm demeanor. He took a deep breath and began.

“You know we’re going to lose the house, right?”

“Did your mum tell you that?” asked Star.

“No.” Patrick looked down at his hands. He was picking at his nails, which were already bitten down to the quick. “I found the eviction letters. I was angry and confronted Mum about it.”

Star whistled out a breath at the ceiling. “Your mum was trying to protect you and Verity; you do understand that, don’t you?” She had a horrible feeling that Patrick would not have taken Maggie’s deception in the way it was intended.

He squirmed on the chair. “I do. Now. I didn’t at first. I don’t need to be treated like a kid.”