Christmas at Strand House: A gorgeously uplifting festive romance!. Linda Mitchelmore
‘What does she do then, this friend of yours?’
‘She’s an accountant. With her own practice.’
‘Now there’s a useful friend to have!’ Sam turned to Janey and smiled broadly. ‘Help you fiddle your taxes and that. You’ll have to give me her details.’
Janey didn’t pay taxes. She had no income on which to pay them, and the cheerful banter she’d been having with Sam seemed to be leaching out of her. Perhaps she’d already said too much, divulged too many confidences.
‘Oh, I don’t know that I can. It might not be professional or something. I don’t really know about these things. We’ve only met up a couple of times although we do pop in and out of one another’s lives on Facebook and an email now and then. We went to an art class together and a funeral and that’s about it really.’ The words seemed to be gushing out of Janey, like water through a crack in a lock gate.
Janey took her mobile from her pocket, checked it quickly and slid it back in again.
‘Oh dear, do I suspect someone’s telling porkies?’
‘I … I—’ Janey began.
Sam cut her short.
‘You don’t have to explain yourself to me, sweetheart, but I’ve had an uncomfortable feel about you since the moment I saw you there like a rabbit caught in headlights, not knowing where it was you were going. Got a daughter your sort of age, and I’d like to think someone would be concerned for her if she was in a spot of bother. I know I’m a soft touch but I’m a bit worried about you. Anyway, here we are. Strand House coming up.’
Lissy
Lissy heard a car pull in the drive. Janey had arrived. She went to the door to welcome her. There’d been no one to welcome her to Strand House, arms outstretched in greeting, but she could welcome the others the way Vonny had always welcomed her, couldn’t she?
‘Oh, is that all you’ve brought? One small case?’ Lissy asked as the taxi driver carried it up the three shallow steps to Strand House, Janey doing her best to keep pace beside the man’s long legs. Lissy thought her friend looked tired and anxious. She stepped closer to Janey and gave her a hug, and could feel the thinness of her despite the thick, wool coat she was wearing; it smelt slightly damp and musty as though it had been in a cupboard until now. Janey stood still, accepting the embrace but not responding and Lissy wondered what might have happened to make her like this because at the art workshop where they’d met Janey had been relaxed and happy, immersing herself in her art. In the evenings, a glass of wine in her hand, Janey had joined in the conversation easily enough, everyone hugging one another goodnight at bedtime. But now …?
‘No Kate Moss, is she?’ the taxi driver said and Lissy gave him a look that said ‘you have over-stepped the mark, mate.’ ‘Shall I carry it inside?’
‘I’ll take it,’ Janey said, as though suddenly realising she was in charge of the situation. Taking a ten-pound note from the pocket of her coat she paid the driver. ‘Keep the change.’
‘Thanks, sweetheart,’ the driver said. ‘Now, you’ve got the card I gave you, yes? In case you need picking up after? And here’s one for you.’ He thrust a card in Lissy’s hand and then the taxi driver turned to go, Janey turning back to look after him as he went, before turning back to face Lissy. To Lissy’s alarm Janey had gone very pale, as though she might faint. And she’d begun to shiver.
‘Come on in,’ Lissy said. ‘I know it’s sunny but there’s a bit of an east wind today. Look at the waves!’
‘It’s beautiful. Really beautiful. The sea in all its moods is beautiful,’ Janey said looking back over her shoulder before Lissy grabbed her free arm and pulled her gently into the house.
‘Room first, or coffee first?’ Lissy asked once they were in the hall and she’d closed the front door. She put Janey’s small case – so light Lissy wondered if there was anything more than a toothbrush and a nightdress in it – down on the floor. She’d let Janey choose which of the sea-facing bedrooms she wanted. Three of the bedrooms in Strand House faced the sea, and three were at the back of the house looking out over rooftops with Dartmoor in the distance. ‘I’m so glad you could come. If you hadn’t put that remark on Facebook I’d never have known you were going to be on your own for Christmas. Now, you know, you and Stuart have separated.’
Lissy knew she was gabbling and had probably just said the wrong thing mentioning Stuart, because she saw Janey stiffen at the mention of his name, but she felt she had to say something, get Janey to open up a bit because she seemed frozen to the spot, frozen inside somehow.
‘Yes, yes we have,’ Janey said.
Lissy gave Janey another, quick, hug.
‘It gets better. I know it’s hard in the beginning. Very hard. You don’t know which way to turn and there’s no one there at night when the curtains are closed, to talk to about things. But you can always ring me, you know. And before I forget, that card you painted for me with the birds and the flowers and the clouds, well, it helped me more than you’d believe. I kept it by the front door and looked at it every time I went out and remembered to look at them all. Every day.’
‘Did you?’ Janey said.
‘Yes,’ Lissy said, a lump in her throat now. All sorts of memories of her split from Cooper were flooding back but Janey didn’t need to know that. Janey needed her support now – Lissy’s turn to return the favour. ‘So, what’s it going to be? Room first, or coffee first?’
‘Coffee, I think. Please.’
‘Coffee it is, then. That’s about all I’ve got in the house at the moment until the Waitrose delivery arrives. I think I’ve ordered just about everything we need to get us through four days of merrymaking, but if I haven’t then there are a couple of small supermarkets within walking distance up on the main road to Torquay. Follow me.’
‘The house is a lot bigger than I thought it would be,’ Janey said, once they were in the kitchen and seated at the island on high, black leather, bar stools. ‘I mean, the hall is vast, like something from a Dutch painting with the black and white tiles. We could play chess or draughts on those tiles.’
‘Now there’s an idea!’ Lissy said. ‘If only I could find an outdoor chess set to play it with!’
‘And this kitchen, Lissy. Words fail me almost.’
‘A bit big for one, isn’t it?’ Lissy laughed. ‘When Vonny was alive we used to joke that we needed a map to get from the larder to the kitchen sink! And there’s a bit of an echo when I’m in here on my own.’
She was finding the conversation, if not stilted, then hardish work. As hostess she felt the onus was on her to make her guest happy, make her laugh, and Janey most definitely wasn’t happy in Lissy’s view, and neither was she laughing. They had a shared history, if a very small one, and one that Lissy hoped they could expand on because she liked Janey. The words ‘timid’ and ‘mouse’ sprang to mind and Lissy was cross for herself for thinking them because she couldn’t know what had happened in Janey’s life – apart from the split from her husband but she didn’t know the reasons for that, not yet and she’d wait for Janey to tell her. Hopefully Christmas and a few drinks with the others, and some good food inside her – how had Janey got so thin? – would change the dynamic of their friendship, of all their friendships. Janey had taken off her coat and it had been all Lissy could do not to gasp when she saw how thin her friend was; how her collar bones stuck out making it look as though the navy jumper she was wearing was still on its hanger. She didn’t remember her being that thin.
‘An echo? Ooooh,’ Janey said, with a shiver. ‘I’d find that a bit creepy. I’ll have to