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‘Yes please. I’d love to try some.’
‘Two please.’
‘Zwei?’The man nodded sharply. ‘Of course!’
They went to stand by the Christmas tree to drink it. It was less crowded there. Next to it was a life-sized nativity set on a bed of straw and made out of simple wooden carvings.
‘So sweet,’ Honor said, sniffing her wine and admiring it. Wafts of delicious hot spice and alcohol rose up with the steam. She sipped a little and choked. ‘Oh goodness, that’s strong!’
Jago tried his. ‘It’ll certainly keep the cold out,’ he gasped, pulling a face. ‘Think I might prefer a pint of Black Ven though.’
Honor looked around, enjoying the crowds and the vibe. ‘This is such a good idea. I don’t think Lullbury Bay’s had a German Market before. It’s been a lovely evening, hasn’t it? I’m so glad the parade went well.’ She stopped, aware the hot wine was making her garrulous. It couldn’t possibly be Jago sending her every nerve end crazy, could it?
‘You must have been proud of all of the children. They looked amazing walking down the hill holding their lanterns, keeping the dark at bay.’
‘And lots of those happy children with their beautifully made lanterns were down to you. Thank you for coming today. It really helped. And I suspect it stopped Jaden kicking off. I saw his mutinous expression when he was dropped off by mum. He so did not want to be there. I think he enjoyed the novelty of having a male teacher for a change. All the Key Stage One teachers are female.’
She drew in a dizzying breath and inhaled the scents of food and alcohol, all underlaid by the sharp pine aroma of the tree next to them. Christmas seemed to be summed up in the lights swaying in the breeze whipping off the sea, people eating and drinking, their faces glowing in the bright light given out by the wooden cabins, and children running about clutching gingerbread and candy floss. ‘It’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Fighting the darkest time of the year, bringing something green into your home. Indulging in something sweet and sugary.’ She glanced at the wooden nativity, Joseph a long lean figure standing protectively over Mary and the infant Jesus. ‘And, if you’re a believer, about a tiny baby coming to save us all. Christian or not, there’s something truly magical about this time of year. Sorry, Gino would say that was the alcohol talking. I have to admit it’s gone to my head. I can feel my cheeks burning and I’ve a feeling my nose has turned the same pink in this cold.’ She pushed her woolly hat off her fringe and took another sip. Now she’d got used to its potency she was quite enjoying it.
‘Who’s Gino?’
‘A boyfriend. Or was a boyfriend, I should say. We met during teacher training. He went to teach abroad. He’s half Italian so when he got a job teaching in Florence he was thrilled.’
‘Didn’t you want to go with him?’
Honor shook her head. ‘I didn’t want to live in Italy, no matter how attractive the idea seemed.’ She thought back. At the time Gino had accused her of being unadventurous, of putting her need to stay in England over their relationship. It had never occurred to him that he was the one who had put it into jeopardy. She should have recognised his selfishness then. In hindsight, it had been the right decision. She knew she would have been lonely living in a country where she didn’t speak the language – and entirely reliant on Gino.
‘It can’t have been easy, keeping a relationship going I mean. Or did it split you up?’
‘It didn’t split us up immediately but you’re right, it wasn’t easy to keep a long-distance relationship going. We tried it for a few years but it didn’t work for us.’ It had for a while, Honor thought, but had all screeched to a halt when, staying at Gino’s apartment in Florence one time, she’d discovered some fancy underwear in a drawer. Fancy underwear that most definitely wasn’t hers. It seemed Gino was embracing all things Italian and that included an Italian girlfriend. It had been six years since she’d cut all contact. It had been the only thing to do but part of her still missed him. She swallowed her wine in one, choking a little. ‘Could we find something sweet to eat now?’ she asked, closing the subject down firmly. ‘I need something to soak up all this alcohol.’
They settled on some marshmallows dunked in chocolate and ate them messily. Jago then bought three giant gingerbread hearts iced with pretty patterns. ‘One for you,’ he handed it over with a flourish, ‘and I’ll take the other two home.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, more delighted than she should be, and clutched the biscuit to her. ‘Avril and Merryn are very lucky.’ A great, self-pitying wave of longing overcame her. He was so lovely.
He grinned, his teeth gleaming white in the light from the gingerbread cabin. ‘They are,’ he joked.
It was getting late now and the crowds had thinned. The wind blew cruelly over the wall off the sea and Honor shivered. His nearness was unnerving her – for all the wrong reasons.
‘You’re cold?’
She nodded.
‘Perhaps we’d better call it a night then.’ Thin clouds parted to reveal a nearly full moon glowing a pale blue in an inky sky. He looked up. ‘Honor bright by a pale-faced moon indeed,’ he murmured. ‘You have a smudge of chocolate on your chin.’ He reached out and gently thumbed it off. ‘There. Gone.’
Honor gazed up at him, wanting to swim in his sea-green eyes. Just wanting. Her chin rose to meet his mouth…
Inching nearer, he lowered his lips to hers and grazed a kiss so light and sweet, it was as delicate as spun sugar.
‘Mr Jago! Mr Jago!’ From somewhere behind them a tiny figure detached itself from thefritescabin.
Honor backed off instantly. She stared open-mouthed, desire warring with horror.
Jaden threw himself at Jago, wrapping his arms around his waist. ‘Did you see me? Did you see me in the parade with my nottopuss? I did great!’
‘Thank you for a lovely evening, Jago,’ Honor stuttered, ‘but I have to go.’
She stumbled over the slippery cobbles, bumping into people as she ran through the market and reached the street and the narrow pavement. Once away from him, angry, frustrated tears coursed down her cheeks, blinding her. It was all so unfair. How could hedothat when he’d just bought his wife and daughter gingerbread? But she’d hardly pushed him away – she’d willed him on! She’d practically had to stop herself licking her lips in anticipation of his kiss. How could she have let herself kiss a married man? And the father of one of her pupils? And in publictoo?
