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‘Can I confess something?’
‘What?’
‘I thought you and Ben had something going on. When you came to the Craft Fayre together you looked very cosy. I was jealous as hell.’
‘Were you?’ Honor tried to stave off the smugness and failed.
‘Don’t look like that. He was all over you.’
She pulled a face. ‘If I’m honest, he used to have a bit of a crush on me. All very awkward as, nice and good looking that he is–’
‘Okay, don’t rub it in.’
‘I’m his manager. Now that’s something the head would most definitely disapprove of.’
‘Why, if you’re both single?’
‘Conflict of interest I suppose. Doubt if I could manage his career progression objectively if I was going out with him. And there’s one other thing.’
‘What’s that?’
‘He’s not you.’ She was rewarded with a look from Jago so hot it sent lightning bolts down to her toes.
They grinned stupidly at one another for a minute then Jago sat back. ‘And are there any of these calendars still in circulation?’ He leered jokingly.
‘Sorry to disappoint you.’ Honor raised her brows in a prim manner. ‘They sold out in a week. It’s a shame we couldn’t do another,’ she added. ‘They were a good money-spinner, but the current head wouldn’t be up for it. As I said, she’s a bit of a stickler for maintaining the propriety of the profession. But, Jago, the serious point, which you’ve missed, is you have until eleven on New Year’s Day to tell Avril. Otherwise she’s going to find out in the worst possible way.’
‘She mentioned the possibility of going to Cornwall for New Year. See the rellies.’
‘And if you don’t, you’re bound to want to watch the swim. You only live fifty yards from the beach. It’ll be impossible to avoid.’
‘I hear what you’re saying. Agreed then. I’ll tell her the day after Boxing Day. We should have steered ourselves through Christmas by then.’
Honor frowned. ‘Are you sure you want me there on the day?’
‘Absolutely.’ He slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. ‘Especially if you can track down a copy of that calendar to slip in my stocking.’ He nuzzled her hair. ‘I’m going to miss you so much when you’re away.’
She turned to him, loving the emotion on his face. ‘I’ll only be gone a day and a half. I’ll see you at the church service. Promise?’
‘Promise.’
CHAPTER34
‘O COME, ALL YE FAITHFUL’ – TRAD.
Christmas Eve
Honor slipped into a pew at the back of the church. She was running late, and the early evening service was about to begin. She sat back and caught her breath as she listened to the organist quietly play ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’. The journey from Southampton had been tedious and long, with Christmas Eve traffic blocking the A35 all the way from Dorchester. Conditions hadn’t been good either, with driving sleety rain and gusts of wind buffeting her little car. She was tired and stiff from driving so much in two days, and hadn’t even had time to go to her flat first. Despite all her weariness, though, every nerve was standing on end in anticipation of seeing Jago again. It was ridiculous but she’d missed him, despite being busy with the family. It had been the usual cheerful chaos and she’d loved every minute, but the pull south and to Jago had been physical. She’d had to fight hard to rein in her impatience as the traffic slowed to an inevitable crawl around Bridport.
Peering over heads, she could see Avril and Merryn sitting near the front, but there was no sign of Jago. Perhaps he was running late too. She looked around St Winifred’s admiring the Christmas tree dressed in subtle white lights and the huge arrangements of poinsettias on either side of the altar. She’d already spotted the three wise men who stood guard outside and who had remained relatively undisturbed despite revellers getting frisky on the way home from the pub. Whatever damage done had been repaired by the knitting fairies. The new addition of the life-sized knitted nativity scene in the garden opposite the church had caused quite a stir in the town too. There was something magical about it as it sat under a specially made wooden arbour, strung with flickering white lights and with the figures set against a warm glowing background.
Tom Catesby from the animal sanctuary, sitting with sister Ellie and his lovely mum, turned and put up his hand in greeting. Further along the same pew she could see Austin Ruddick and the familiar bleached white hair of his granddaughter Alice. And in the pew behind them were assorted members of Lucie Wiscombe’s large and unruly family. There was no sign of Lucie herself though, and you usually couldn’t miss her, with her mane of bright chestnut hair. No Chris either, as he’d already left to spend Christmas with his family in Cornwall and no Tamara; she’d gone off to start her seasonal singing job. Honor didn’t think it was her sort of thing anyway. The woman next to her nudged her arm and offered a mint. Honor took one gratefully and then concentrated as Verity climbed the pulpit dressed in her white Christmas vestments.
‘Welcome, everyone, to this most happy of days,’ the vicar said. ‘I think God wanted as many people in the congregation as possible, as He blew most of us up the drive this evening!’
Everyone laughed. Verity was held in fond affection in the town. The church was packed, most never stepped foot in church from one Christmas to the next but they always made an effort for this service. It was considered the traditional start to a Lullbury Bay Christmas.
‘Our first reading is taken from Luke Chapter 1, verses 26 to 38.’
