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Underneath the Christmas Tree: Chapter 15


Without a word, Ned kindly fetched my PJs and helped me up to bed. I slept all the sweeter for that conclusive, soft lipped kiss and I would have laid late too, had he not woken me before he took Bandit for his run early the next morning.

I think he was still worried I might have been concussed and the look he gave me and the tender words he uttered, suggested that he might also have been thinking that the kiss I had bestowed upon him meant something.

It had meant something, but a different thing for me than him. For me it marked the end of my romantic feelings for him. Yes, I still fancied the pants off him and yes, he was a truly great guy, but if I was going to properly move my life forward, then hanging on to my feelings for him, the man I had already set up with another woman and who was in charge of the place I was going to great efforts to free myself from, would have been entirely counterproductive.

What I needed was a completely clean break and I hoped that if I didn’t mention the kiss, or unguardedly throw him a lustful look, then Ned would soon work out that my post-tumble actions were purely the result of the emotional outpouring and the reaction of going backside over boobs. Therefore, launching straight into the spirit of the thing, before he and Bandit headed off, I sped the process along.

‘I’m pretty certain I didn’t hit my head in that tumble,’ I said, rubbing my slightly swollen cheek, ‘but I can’t remember much about what happened after it.’

Ned, framed in the bedroom doorway, looked concerned.

‘Well,’ he began, ‘you told me something…’

‘Oh,’ I said, glancing down at the duvet, ‘I remember that.’

‘Good,’ he said, burying his hands in his hoodie pocket. ‘I’m pleased about that, because I was hoping that talking it through might have helped. I really hope it’s helped you come to terms with a few things, Liza.’

Baring my soul and explaining the guilt I’d been carrying for the last four years had been every bit as cathartic as he had suggested it would be. That had been a total, but very pleasant, and potentially life-changing, surprise.

‘It did,’ I told him. ‘It has.’

‘Good.’

‘But after that,’ I said, looking back at him and purposefully sounding vague.

‘You can’t remember anything?’

‘No,’ I shrugged. ‘Nothing. I didn’t do anything embarrassing, did I?’

‘Of course not.’

Was it my imagination, or did he sound disappointed?

‘But I am sorry about how yesterday turned out,’ he carried on. ‘I had hoped it would be a great day. I wanted it to be really special.’

‘It was,’ I firmly said, determined to let him know that his efforts had been worth it. The day had marked a very real turning point and I would be forever grateful for that. ‘Aside from my stupid cross-country antics, it was absolutely perfect. A most fitting tribute to my dad and to everything Wynter’s Trees represents.’

It really had been a wonderful mix of family tradition, seasonal activity and nostalgia and even though the way it ended had been draining, the epiphany more than justified the injured ankle and subsequent outpouring.

‘That’s all right then,’ Ned smiled, his brow clearing. ‘That’s what I had been aiming for. Do you think you can manage to get downstairs on your own?’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I don’t think I’ll have a problem.’

He unhooked my dressing gown from the back of the door and laid it on the bed.

‘I’ll get on then,’ he said. ‘I need to pop to Wynmouth later. Do you want anything picking up while I’m there?’

‘I don’t think so,’ I said, ‘but a lift would be great. I’m pretty certain I’m not going to be able to drive today and there’s something I would like to do.’

Later that day, Ned dropped me at the church gate, having made sure I could hobble unaided. The sprain thankfully wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it might have been and I slowly made my way to roughly where I remembered Dad had been buried. It all looked rather different because of the additional graves and I felt ashamed that I hadn’t visited sooner. I felt another emotion when I spotted Dad’s plot too. It hit me right in the stomach and took my breath away.

‘My goodness,’ I gasped, as I looked at the many festive trinkets and decorations which fittingly embellished his final resting place.

I knew some churchyards didn’t allow for any kind of adornment because it made it difficult for the person responsible for cutting the grass, but that clearly wasn’t the case in the churchyard in Wynmouth.

Unable to sit on the ground, I carefully lowered myself on to the bench closest. I noticed it had a brass plaque dedicated to Dad screwed on the back. I ran my fingers over the engraving. It had been made from a tree which had fallen in the reserve during a winter storm a couple of years ago and commissioned by the local community as a thank you for saving the land. The memory of Dad amongst the local community was bound up with so much more than just the twelve days of Christmas I realised. He might have been long gone, but his unique and lasting legacies were not forgotten.

Mum had instilled in me her love of nature and the changing seasons and I wondered if that was some of the reason behind why Dad had fought so hard to save the reserve site. I had accused him many, many times of leaving Mum behind when he moved us south, but this bench brought home to me that I was wrong. Just like he was now, Mum too was gone, but she hadn’t been forgotten.

‘So…’ I said, my breath catching as the chill breeze whipped around me.

On the journey into the village, I had thought about what I was going to say but now the words wouldn’t come. It was freezing cold and I knew Ned would soon be waiting so, rather than say the words out loud, I ran through them in my head.

I apologised for not coming sooner, shared the weight and depth of the guilt I had carried and explained what I was going to do next with my life. I told Dad how I had struck upon a business idea of my own, one that combined my love of nature and art with my desire to help struggling students, and how I was going to fund it.

‘Ned,’ I said, finally finding my voice, ‘is the perfect person to carry on running Wynter’s Trees. He’s a chip off David’s block and even more full of ideas than you were, Dad.’

I carefully stood up again, taking care not to put too much weight on my injured ankle.

‘Oh,’ I added, ‘and I’m going to see the northern lights.’ My mind had suddenly settled on that as the trip I was going to take. ‘I know you always wanted to go, Dad, so I’ll go for both of us. I know we’ll have a great time.’

I spotted Ned pull up at the gate and waved.

‘I really am sorry I haven’t been before,’ I said, a lump forming in my throat. ‘And I’ll always be sorry that Wynter’s Trees wasn’t for me, but I know I’m doing the right thing in handing it on to someone who loves it as much as you did. I hope you can be happy about that, Dad. I love you.’

I felt utterly exhausted, but as I hobbled back to the truck, I knew I had been purged of my guilt. It had been a long time coming and if it hadn’t been for Ned, I’d still be dragging the weight of it around with me, like Marley and his chain in A Christmas Carol.

‘All right?’ asked Ned, solicitously hopping out to open the passenger door.

‘You know,’ I said, feeling light of heart as I leant on his arm so I could climb in. ‘I really am.’

He looked surprised. I daresay he had been braced for tears. I know I had, but they hadn’t come.

‘Well, that’s great,’ he said, sounding relieved. ‘Really great.’

‘It is,’ I told him, with a smile. ‘I feel ready for anything now.’


I was raring to go the next morning and ready to face another busy weekend at Wynter’s Trees. I was still pretty immobile, but I didn’t let that dampen my spirits. Thanks to my heart to heart with Ned and my long overdue visit to Dad’s grave, I felt transformed and determined to make the most of the rest of my time in Wynmouth.

‘Good morning,’ I beamed at David and Ned who were in the office even earlier than usual. ‘It’s freezing out there, but it’s going to be a glorious day.’

The pair looked at each other and exchanged smiles.

‘Someone’s in a good mood,’ laughed David. ‘Even though she looks like she’s gone a few rounds with Joe Bugner.’

‘Joe who?’ I frowned, wincing as the action made my bruised and cut cheek throb.

‘He was a boxer in the seventies,’ explained Ned.

‘Oh right.’

‘I reckon it’s the max strength painkillers,’ said Ned.

‘No, it isn’t,’ I grinned. ‘I’m happy.’

Spotting the signs, I could see David was about to launch into his familiar, ‘I told you coming back here was a good idea’ speech but Maya’s voice floated through from the barn and he turned his attention to Ned instead.

‘Can’t you go?’ Ned pleaded with him.

‘No, because she called for you,’ David pointed out, ‘I’m pretty certain I would be a huge disappointment.’

With a sigh, Ned reluctantly pushed back his chair and ambled off.

‘What’s going on?’ I whispered to David. ‘I thought Ned would be jumping at the chance to meet Maya out there under the mistletoe.’

I guessed that was why she wanted him. There were bunches of the stuff appearing everywhere now. With Lilith on site, Maya had access to a constant, fresh supply and was always to be seen refreshing and replenishing.

‘Between you and me,’ David conspiratorially replied, ‘I don’t think Ned’s all that keen on privately meeting Maya anywhere.’

I felt my good mood plummet. I had assumed their paths were now seamlessly aligned.

‘Oh,’ I said, resisting the urge to sneak a look to find out how Maya was faring for myself, ‘I got the impression that they were fast becoming a couple.’

‘I don’t think so,’ David further confided. ‘But I do know is it’s a long time since anyone asked me for a Christmas kiss.’

I’d forgotten that David was a widow. His wife had died a few years before he became a partner in the business, so his circumstances, in some respects, sadly echoed Dad’s. I wondered if that had, in part, drawn the two men together. I also wondered how Ned had coped with losing his mum. Like me, he’d also experienced the aching pain of familial grief. It was a sad thing to have in common.

‘Me too,’ I sighed, as Ned sidled back in, looking sheepish. ‘You might want to wipe that lipstick off your face before you greet the customers, Ned,’ I suggested, feeling more put out than I should considering I’d gone to the effort of kissing him goodbye myself.

‘Morning team,’ beamed Maya, as she breezed in with Liam hot on her heels. ‘Are we all ready for another busy day serving up Christmas spirit?’

‘I am,’ said Liam, who looked ready for anything and entirely smitten. ‘I can’t wait.’

I couldn’t tell if it was the prospect of Christmas, being employed at Wynter’s Trees or having the opportunity to work with Maya, that had got him so fired up.

‘Can I take Bandit for a walk before I start?’ he asked Ned. ‘I wouldn’t mind a few minutes among the trees before it gets busy.’

‘Be my guest,’ said Ned.

‘Where does he get his energy from?’ David laughed as boy and hound jogged off.

‘Liam or Bandit?’ asked Ned.

‘Both,’ said David.

‘It’s the exuberance of youth,’ I told him. ‘I used to have to cope with it every day at school. Sometimes there were getting on for thirty Liams in every class.’

‘Ah youth,’ David wistfully smiled. ‘I remember it well.’

Ned rolled his eyes.

‘I’ve got something for you, Liza,’ said Maya, returning her siren shade lipstick to her bag and rifling through it for something else.

She pulled out a tube and held it out for me to take.

‘What is it?’ I asked, accepting it.

‘Arnica,’ she said. ‘It’s good for bruises. That one on your face is a real shiner now.’

Ned and I had told everyone I’d fallen over while planting the family tree. We’d kept the champagne, failed athletics and subsequent revelations to ourselves. My gaze momentarily flicked to his face but his expression thankfully gave nothing away.

‘That’s really kind,’ I said to Maya. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ she said, smiling brightly, before putting her bag in the staff locker and bouncing out again.

We all watched her go. She had just as much pep as Liam did. With her glossy ponytail and her sparkly smile, she was an absolute vision and she had kindest personality too.

‘You’re a lucky guy, Ned,’ I said, just to hammer home how blessed he was and in spite of what David had confided. ‘A very lucky guy indeed.’


The weather on Sunday was every bit as grim as it had been beautiful the day before. The car park was half empty practically all day, but the lack of customers gave me the opportunity to have a proper catch up with everyone in the beach huts.

‘Do you want to borrow my chair?’ asked Abbie with a cheeky grin as I cautiously negotiated my way around the wet yard and into her and Noah’s hut.

‘That’s very kind of you,’ I told her, ‘but I can just about manage. Thanks.’

Wren stuck her head out of her hut and then joined us, while Noah went to buy some lunch from Hope who had been cooking up a storm in the barn all morning and was destined to have lots left over if we didn’t have a rush of visitors soon.

‘So,’ said Abbie, when Noah was out of earshot, ‘how are you getting on with Maya? I saw the pair of you chatting earlier and it looked like you’ve been friends forever.’

‘It feels like it, too,’ I told her. ‘We properly hit it off as soon as I’d explained that what she’d overheard in the pub was nothing like she thought it was. She’s so thoughtful and hardworking. She’s perfect for Wynter’s.’

She was perfect for Ned too, but I didn’t add that.

‘And what about Chelsea?’ asked Wren, with a nod to Liam, who was busy tidying the yard in spite of the rain. ‘Have you really settled your differences with her?’

The pair now knew some of what Chelsea had put me through at school, but I hadn’t breathed a word to anyone about any of what she had confided in me the day after I’d offered Liam a job.

‘We’ve certainly cleared the air,’ I said, with a happy sigh, ‘And boy, do I feel better for it. If there’s one thing I’ve realised since coming back here it’s that if you can’t see the whole picture, then things aren’t always what they seem on the surface.’ I thought for a moment and then added, ‘and I’ve also worked out there’s nothing healthy about holding on to past hurts either.’

‘That sounds like a very healthy attitude,’ said Sue, who had come in behind me and thanks to the drumming rain I hadn’t heard.

‘Ow,’ I winced, as I flinched and jarred my ankle as a result.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, my love,’ she said, looking upset. ‘I didn’t mean to make you jump. Is that ankle still giving you gip?’

‘Don’t worry,’ I said, ‘Not really. As long as I don’t make any sudden moves, it’s fine. I’ve been careful in the yard though. It’s so wet today, I’ve been worried about slipping.’

We all looked out at the driving rain.

‘This will soon pass,’ Sue sagely said. ‘I wouldn’t let a few hours of wet weather hamper you settling back down, my love.’

‘I suppose not,’ I tensely said, while privately cursing Ned because he still maintained he wasn’t ready for me to publicly share my plans.

I looked up to find three pair of eyes staring at me and was just wondering if I could somehow drop a hint, when Noah came sprinting back across the yard.

‘I’ve got stew and dumplings for everyone,’ he said, putting down two brown bags, before shaking out his jacket and covering us all in freezing raindrops.

He passed around the reusable bowls and we all sighed with pleasure as we peeled off the lids and breathed in the delicious smell of herby dumplings and slow cooked stew.

‘Hope wants the bowls back,’ he told us, handing out eco forks.

‘Thanks Noah,’ we chorused, digging in.

I was especially grateful. Not only for my lunch, but also for the timely interruption. As I savoured the first succulent mouthful I vowed to make talking to David and Ned again the next thing on my to-do list. It was about time I had an update on Ned’s progress and reiterated to David that I still hadn’t fallen for Wynter’s Trees.


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