Page 16 of Mistletoe and Mulled Wine at the Christmas Campervan

By the end of the festival day, Lucy found herself starting to get the festive feels. What with all this tinsel, the twinkling fairy lights coming out en masse from the various food stalls as the sky deepened towards a late-afternoon dusk, the winter-spiced drinks wafting by with woody-cinnamon scents, and customers clutching bags filled with gifts galore. And it made her think of family … and friends … bloody hell, she hoped she and Becky would be talking to each other by Christmas. The two of them often had a girlie shopping day together with a celebratory tipple or two at lunchtime. And there was always a festive and fun drinks night out along with their friend Katie. It was all part of the tradition – it wasn’t one they could break, was it?

Christmas Day, these past few years, had been spent with her mum and Nonna over at Sofia’s house in Rothbury. A family affair with Olly and Alice popping by, and last year, an overexcited Freddie tearing open his parcels like a whirlwind, leaving heaps of discarded wrappings as he dived into his new toys. Turkey dinner followed by mince pies, noisy games and laughter, with the backdrop of the old fake-fir Christmas tree that had seen many a year and better days, but they still wouldn’t let Mum get rid of it. Plus, of course, a visit to her dad and his partner, Jo, on either Christmas Eve or Boxing Day, whichever fitted them best.

She glanced over to The Cocktail Campervan where Jack was winding down for the day as he served out the last of a jug of mulled wine, and she couldn’t help but wonder what the landscape of Jack’s Christmas might look like; realising that it would be a difficult day for his family. Losing a son, a brother, like that? How could you ever enjoy Christmas in the same way again? Her heart had broken for Jack when he’d told her all about his brother Daniel dying at just twenty years of age. A student on a football pitch, playing a game which both brothers loved, unaware of the dangerous heart condition that had hidden itself for so many years, but which cruelly stole his life in a matter of seconds. But somehow Jack’s fractured family must have found a way forward through the years. It all must have been so difficult, though.

She sighed, feeling for them all. However messy her own family had ended up being after her parents had split, it still managed to be joyful at Christmas time.

That evening, after packing up at the festival and then dropping Abby home, Lucy cleared and cleaned the horsebox, finally collapsing on the sofa around eight o’clock with Daisy and a much-needed cuppa. Wow, it had been such a busy day, and profitable too, judging by the looks of the bulging cash tin and card receipts.

There was a rat-a-tat at the door, which caused Daisy to jump down off the sofa with a bark. It was Jack, bearing a bottle of red wine and a smile, ready to join Lucy at the cottage for a late supper.

Lucy got up, meeting him in the hallway. He was already in through the door.

‘Hey, still okay to drop by?’

She still managed to melt every time he walked in … however tired she might be. His handsome face, dusty-blond hair with its slight wave, that little bit of stubble on his chin. Oh my, she’d got this thing bad.

‘Of course. I’ve got an easy supper in mind. Hope that’s alright?’

‘Absolutely, I’m not expecting you to start cooking after a day like today.’

They were soon curled up and cosy with the bottle of red wine, and the coffee table laid out with a selection of fresh bread rolls from the bakery stall, local cheeses from the Doddington Dairy stand, plus some Northumbrian ‘Italian-style’ charcuterie. The two of them chilling out in front of the open fire, with Daisy’s nose twitching at the delightful and tantalising smells wafting just above her.

Lucy let out a slow yawn.

‘Tired?’ Jack smiled at her, his hand reaching to brush away a strand of dark hair that had drifted down in front of her eyes.

‘Yeah. I’m all pizza’ed out.’ Lucy’s feet were throbbing from the long hours stood by the pizza oven, and her arms were aching from constantly working the pizza paddle and stretching out dough balls.

‘Went off well, though, didn’t it? I did a storming trade with the campervan this afternoon. The punters couldn’t get enough of my Toffee Apple Cocktails.’

‘Ooh, you’ll have to make me one of those. They sound delightful.’

‘Autumn gold in a glass.’ He grinned, slipping into his campervan barman patter.

‘Scrumptious.’

‘Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with this glass of Merlot for now, as all the ingredients are back at my digs. I’ve emptied out the van.’

‘Ah, typical …’ she said with mock indignation, then leaned back against him. ‘It was a good day, though, yeah. So many people there … lunchtime was crazy busy. Me and Abby could hardly keep up.’

‘Yeah, it was a good call.’

She gave a thumbs up. ‘And what a setting. It felt kind of Christmassy too, didn’t it? I loved that. Can’t believe we’re nearly at the end of October already.’

The year was indeed flying by. With the new business, and this new relationship, there was so much to take on board, and much to be thankful for.

‘So, what do you and your folks do for Christmas?’ Lucy asked. The words came out before she had time to think.

‘Ah … it’s usually a pretty quiet affair. Just the three of us …’ Jack gave a tight smile. ‘Oh, and the biggest bloody turkey ever. I think Mum’s been over-compensating for the past ten years. Me and Dad daren’t say a thing. Stuck eating cold turkey for days … and then there’s the vat of turkey soup.’

Lucy was worried that she’d spoilt the cosiness of the moment. ‘Sorry …’ She rubbed the back of his hand instinctively.

‘What for?’

‘Bringing that up … I should have realised Christmas wouldn’t be easy for you … your family.’

‘It’s okay. We’ve had a long time to try and get used to it.’