Christmas Wishes at Pudding Hall by Kate Forster

23

Adam turned the laptop screen around to show Marc the figures.

‘If we buy the network with Blind Baking, then the price goes up enormously.’

Marc sat in thought.

‘Does Avian know you’re thinking of buying the service?’

Marc shook his head. ‘No, she doesn’t.’

‘Or you can buy without the show, cut them loose and save a bunch of money and still meet your goal.’

He rubbed his temples and then sighed. ‘I don’t want to pay that much, to be honest. The show isn’t worth it; it’s a risk. We already have The Great British Bake Off and MasterChef. Has Avian signed with Cirrus?’

‘She said she has but I haven’t seen the papers yet,’ admitted Adam.

Adam looked back the screen.

‘Find out if you can.’

Marc stood up and went to the window where he saw the boys riding their bikes around the paths. It looked freezing but their faces were red and healthy and he could hear them yelling out instructions to each other. He was glad they had them early, even if they were Simon’s idea. It was good to see them outside and being active instead of being in front of the screen playing video games.

‘Christa asked me if I was going back to the States,’ he said.

‘And your answer was?’

‘I said I didn’t know,’ he answered honestly. ‘I like her, I would like to get to know her but my life is there, not here. I can’t see how it would work and I don’t want to uproot everything for it not to work out.’

He turned to Adam who was leaning back in the chair listening intently. Having worked with Adam for ten years, he knew that his counsel would be wise and considered and always put Marc’s interests first.

But Adam said nothing.

‘Well, what do you think?’ Marc felt frustrated at the lack of response from his friend and business adviser.

‘What does it matter what I think, you will do what you need to do.’

‘What sort of a stupid answer is that?’ Marc was frustrated now. He wanted Adam to tell him what to do so that he didn’t have to make the decision himself. And Adam always chose business, which would mean Marc would be back in San Francisco for the start of the next year.

‘You are asking me if you should go back to America or stay here and pursue the spark you have with Christa?’

‘Yes, yes I am,’ Marc said.

‘I am not telling you what to do about that. That’s a personal issue,’ said Adam.

‘You had no qualms four years ago, when you told me that you thought Avian and I should separate.’

‘Because she’s abusive – to you, to the boys, to people she works with. She’s an awful person who hasn’t changed at all since you divorced. In fact, I think she’s become worse. You see how different the twins are around her compared to when it was just you and Christa spending time with them.’

Marc was quiet now. Everything Adam said was true. Avian was toxic and nasty and he might have escaped it but the boys hadn’t. They had changed and he worried for them.

‘I can’t take them away from their mother.’

‘I’m not saying you should, I am merely pointing out you have an opportunity to explore things with Christa and can keep the boys here for a while longer and let them decide where they want to be.’

Marc sat back at his desk and stared at his computer screen.

Adam was right, as usual.

‘Did you look into the other thing I mentioned, in town?’

Adam nodded. ‘Yes I emailed the papers to you this morning.’

‘Great, now let’s get back to this deal. I want it sorted by Christmas, which is only a week away.’

*

After Adam had finalised the paperwork for the offer for the network, Marc walked through the house looking for Christa but she was nowhere to be found, and we looked outside he saw her car was gone.

He wondered where she was and called Peggy, even though it was her day off. What if Christa had gone?

‘Mr Ferrier?’ Peggy answered. He could hear music and talking in the background.

‘I am sorry to call. I know it’s your day off but do you know where Christa is?’

‘She said she was going to the Shambles Market.’

Before she could say any more, Marc had shoved his phone into his pocket, pulled on his coat and grabbed his keys.

He had no idea where Shambles Market was but he could find it, he was sure.

York was busy when he arrived and he saw people milling around with baskets and trolleys of food and more.

‘Excuse me, which way is the market?’ he asked a man with a baby in a carrier on his chest.

The man directed him while his hand caressed the baby’s head and Marc tried to remember whether he had been that tender with his sons. They had been raised largely by nannies because he was working and Avian was working on a career, which he respected, but he wished he could do it all again and make it better. Love the twins better, tell Avian to be a better parent. Tell himself to be a better parent.

He walked the streets towards the market, noticing every family, every couple of every age. People enjoying their time together, having coffees and laughing and looking at the market stalls. He wanted to be a part of it all and he wanted one person with him.

As he walked past a stall, he saw Peggy in an apron offering a plate of something to passers-by.

‘Peggy?’ he said.

‘Hello, Mr Ferrier, you found it I see.’

Petey from the van waved at him. ‘Fudge?’ asked Peggy, holding the plate in front of him.

‘No thanks, I need to find Christa. Have you seen her?’

Peggy shook her head. ‘Have you called her?’

‘I don’t have her number,’ he said, feeling stupid. He’d never had any reason to call her until now.

Peggy pulled her phone out of her apron pocket and handed him the platter of fudge.

‘Hold this,’ she said, and scrolled through her phone and pressed send and he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

A market goer walked up to Marc and took a piece of fudge from the plate, then stood there chewing at him.

‘What’s the flavour?’ asked the man.

Marc looked at Peggy. ‘Flavour?’

‘Peppermint and dark chocolate,’ said Peggy, slipping her phone back in her pocket and taking back the platter.

‘There’s a lovely strawberries and champagne one also, if you like something lighter.’

Marc called Christa’s phone while he watched Peggy sell several packets fudge to the man.

She was a truly a gem, underneath her disapproving disposition.

Christa’s phone went through to voice mail and he hung up without leaving a message.

What would he say? He didn’t even know what he would say if he saw her in person; he just wanted to see her.

As if he’d manifested her, he spotted her pink jacket, then her white wool hat with the pom-pom on top and he called out.

She turned and looked around and then saw him and smiled, a tentative smile but not a scowl, nor did she turn away.

He made his way through the crowd and came to her side.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, her face pink with cold and her nose red. He wanted to kiss the tip of it but instead he took the bags of shopping she was carrying from her.

‘I wanted to see you,’ he said.

‘Why?’

People passed them in the market but he felt they were all spinning around them and only he and Christa were still.

‘I don’t know, I just wanted to be with you.’

She bit her lip, as though trying to stop herself from smiling.

‘Was there something you needed to tell me? Something I needed to buy? Rhubarb, perhaps? I could make you a lovely apple and rhubarb strudel. I know how much you would love that.’

‘No, thank you,’ he said. ‘I would prefer something else,’ he said.

‘What would you prefer?’ she asked and he knew they were flirting now.

‘You,’ he said and he saw her take in a sharp breath and then she breathed out slowly.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Christa, we like each other, perhaps it’s more than like for me. I want to know you and I want you to know the boys. I’m going to stay here after Christmas so we can get to know each other like normal people. I’m not going to go back to America. I can put the boys into school here for a while. It would be good for them.’

Christa looked down at her feet and scuffed her boots on the cobblestones. ‘It’s impossible to get to know you when both our exes are in the house with us.’

‘I know but we can ignore them until they leave, can’t we?’

Christa laughed but there was no joy in the sound.

‘This is sport to Simon. He is constantly baiting me, needling me, making me feel less than adequate. I thought I left that when we split but no, it seems I am still in his web.’

‘He can’t make you feel anything you don’t want to, and you shouldn’t listen to him,’ he said. ‘I can tell Avian to go if you want?’

But she held up a gloved hand.

‘I can’t tell you to tell Avian to go because she’s the boys’ mother, but you have to understand, I can’t stand Simon being here. It’s exhausting and stressful.’

Simon interjected. ‘Then I’ll tell her to tell him to leave. If she wants to see the boys then she’ll stay. I have no idea why he’s here anyway. I had no idea they were even dating.’ He put his hand on her arm but she pulled away

‘Please don’t. You don’t owe me that. She is the boys’ mother, that means something. We are just an attraction that would probably never happen if I wasn’t in the close confines of the house with you. Our worlds would have never crossed otherwise.’

‘Don’t say that, I sound like some sort of horrible emperor.’ He shook his head at the thought

But Christa had stepped back away from him.

‘I just want this whole thing to be over. I can’t do this game-playing with Simon and Avian using us as pawns in their emotional chess match.’

‘I’m not playing games, I’m just telling you I like you. I want to get to know you better.’

Christa paused, and he could see her choosing her words before she spoke.

‘I can’t tell you what to do with your ex-wife, but I know I can’t be around Simon for any longer than I have to. I don’t want to tell you about my marriage yet but there is pain that is real and raw and I’m not strong enough to see him like this, day after day.’

Marc wanted to hold her and keep her safe from whatever that man did to her during their marriage but he knew that wouldn’t heal anything.

‘I’ll ask Avian and Simon to go then,’ he said.

‘And then the boys don’t get to spend Christmas with their mum. That’s not fair on them or on her,’ she answered.

He looked down at the ground and tried to think of a solution. He should be good at this. He was successful in business with a mind for strategy, so why was it so hard to work out how to keep everyone happy?

‘Christa, tell me what to do,’ he pleaded, but instead she took the shopping bags from his hands.

‘I’m not your therapist,’ she said, walking past him and into the crowd of Christmas shoppers.

He watched her go and wondered if he should follow her but he knew it would be pointless. There was something there he couldn’t heal. It had to come from her when she was ready and he could only hope it would be soon.