into him in the sandwich shop, just as a large dollop of coleslaw had squeezed itself from her crusty cob and splatted onto her top.
‘Oh!’ He’d laughed, rummaging in his pockets and pulling out a fresh white handkerchief. ‘Here—take this.’
She’d blushed madly, accepted his hankie, and then had stood there wiping furiously at her clothes, knowing that he was standing there, staring at her. When she’d looked up to thank him he’d blushed, and she’d wondered what he had been thinking about.
Then they’d both gone on their way, and she’d looked over her shoulder at him at the exact moment when he’d done the same.
She felt that strange undercurrent whenever they met, or whenever she saw him. She kept trying to ignore it. Trying to ignore him. But it was difficult. Her head and her heart had differing reactions. Her head told her to stay away and keep her distance. But her heart and her body sang whenever he was near, as if it was saying, Look, there he is! Give him a wave! Go and say hello! Touch him!
Today frost covered the ground like a smattering of icing sugar, and the village itself looked very picturesque. Sydney was desperate to get out and go for a walk around the old bridleways, maybe take a few pictures with her camera, but she couldn’t. There was far too much to do and she was running late for a committee meeting.
The Silverdale Christmas market and nativity was an annual festive occasion that was always held the week before Christmas. People came from all around the county, sometimes further from afield, and it was a huge financial boost to local businesses during the typically slower winter months. Unfortunately this year it was scheduled to fall on the one day that she dreaded. The anniversary of Olivia’s death.
Sydney had previously been one of the organisers, but after what had happened with Olivia she hadn’t been involved much. Barely at all. This year she’d decided to get back into it. She’d always been needed, especially where the animals were concerned. She’d used to judge the Best Pet show, and maintain the welfare of all the animals that got involved in the very real nativity—donkeys, sheep, cows, goats, even chickens and geese! But she’d also been in charge of the flower stalls and the food market.
It was a huge commitment, but one she had enjoyed in the past. And this year it would keep her busy. Would stop her thinking of another Christmas without her daughter. Stop her from wallowing in the fact that, yet again, she would not be buying her child any gifts to put under a non-existent tree.
She sat at the table with the rest of the committee, waiting for the last member to arrive. Dr Jones was late. Considerably so. And the more they waited, the more restless she got.
‘Perhaps we should just make a start and then fill Dr Jones in if he ever gets here?’ Sydney suggested.
Everyone else was about to agree when the door burst open and in he came, cheeks red from the cold outside, apologising profusely. ‘Sorry, everyone, I got called out to some stomach pains—which, surprisingly, turned out to be a bouncing baby boy.’
There were surprised gasps and cheers from the others.
‘Who’s had a baby?’ asked Malcolm, the chairman.
Nathan tucked his coat over the back of his chair. ‘Lucy Carter.’
Sydney sat forward, startled. ‘My Lucy Carter? My veterinary nurse?’
His gaze met hers and he beamed a smile at her which went straight to her heart. ‘The very same.’
‘B-but…she wasn’t pregnant!’ she spluttered with indignation.
‘The baby in her arms would beg to differ!’
‘But…’
She couldn’t believe it! Okay, Lucy had put some weight on recently, but they’d put that down to those extra chocolate bars she’d been eating… Pregnant? That’s amazing! She felt the need to go and see her straight away. To give her a hug and maybe get a cuddle with the newborn.
‘It was a shock for everyone involved. But they’re both doing well and everyone’s happy. She told me to let you know.’
A baby. For Lucy. That was great news. And such a surprise!
It meant more work for Sydney for a bit, of course, but she’d cope. She could get an agency member of staff in. It would be weird, not seeing Lucy at work for a while. They’d always worked together. They knew each other’s ways and foibles.
She sighed. Everyone else seemed to be moving on. Lucy and her new baby. Alastair and his new bride, with a baby on the way. Everyone was getting on with their lives. And she…? She was still here. In the village she’s been born in. With no child. No husband. No family of her own except her elderly parents, who lived too far away anyway.
She looked across at Nathan as he settled into his seat and felt a sudden burst of irritation towards him. She’d been looking forward to getting involved in these meetings again, getting back out there into the community, and yet now her feelings towards him were making her feel uncomfortable. Was it because he’d brought news that meant her life was going to change again?
‘Let’s get started, shall we?’ suggested Malcolm. ‘First off, I’d like to welcome Dr Nathan Jones to the committee. He has taken over the role from its previous incumbent, Dr Richard Preston.’
The group clapped, smiled and nodded a welcome for their new member. Sydney stared at him, her face impassive. He looked ridiculously attractive today. Fresh-faced. Happy. She focused on his hands. Hands that had just recently delivered a baby. And she felt guilty for having allowed herself to succumb to that brief, petty jealousy. She looked up at his face and caught him looking at her, and she looked away, embarrassed.
‘I’d also like to welcome Sydney back to the committee! Sydney, as I’m sure most of you know, took a little…sabbatical, if you will, from the organisation of this annual event, and I’m most pleased to have her back in full fighting form!’
She smiled as she felt all eyes turn to her, and nodded hellos to the group members she knew well and hadn’t worked with for so long. It did feel good to be back here and doing something for the community again. The Christmas market and nativity was something she hadn’t been able to find any pleasure in for some time, but now she was ready.
At least she hoped she was.
‘The market is going to be held in the same place as always—the centre of the village square—and I believe we’ve already got lots of things in place from last year. Miriam?’
Miriam, the secretary, filled them in on all the recent developments. Lots of the same stalls that came every year had rebooked. Music was going to be covered by the same brass band, and the school was going to provide a choir as well.
Sydney listened, scribbling things down on her pad that she’d need to remember, and thought of past activities. There was a lot to take in—she’d forgotten how much organising there was!—and as her list got longer and longer she almost wished she could write with both hands.
She’d also forgotten how soothing these meetings could be sometimes. The hum of voices, the opinions of everyone on how things should be done, the ebb and flow of ideas… She truly appreciated the need for all this planning and preparation. Even though sometimes the older members of the committee enjoyed their dedication to picking over details a little too much.
Briefly, she allowed her mind to wander, and the memory that sprang to her mind was of a happier year, when Olivia had played the part of Mary in the nativity. In the weeks beforehand Sydney had taught her how to ride the donkey, shown her how to behave around the other animals. She remembered holding her daughter’s hand as they walked through the market stalls, making sure she didn’t eat too many sweets or pieces of cake, and listening to her singing carols in the choir.
She smiled, feeling a little sad. She had those memories on camera. Alastair had videoed Olivia riding the donkey in the nativity, with her fake pregnancy bump. Olivia had loved that belly, rubbing her hands over it like a real pregnant mother soothing