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Last Orders at the Star and Sixpence Page 17
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There wasn’t much she could say to that, Sam thought; her hair certainly resembled a Disney villain’s. ‘I need coffee.’
He waved the knife towards the Nespresso machine, sending a fragment of carrot flying towards the window. ‘I’ll have a macchiato, if you’re making one.’
By the time Nessie arrived, Sam and Nick had peeled everything that needed peeling and had set the long table in the bar for seven guests.
‘I’m impressed,’ Nessie said, gazing in astonishment at the brimming saucepans. ‘You should visit more often, Nick.’
‘Oi!’ Sam said, pretending to be offended. ‘I’ll have you know this is all my own work.’
Nessie fixed Nick with a knowing look. ‘How late did she sleep? You can tell me, it’s fine.’
He shook his head in gallant fashion. ‘Up with the lark, she was. I was the one who overslept.’
It certainly felt as though she’d been up for hours, Sam thought, pushing back another wave of weariness. At this rate she’d need an afternoon nap just to make it through to bedtime.
The day itself passed in a pleasant whirl of eating and drinking and laughter. Sam couldn’t help noticing that both Nessie and Owen were a long way from their normal selves, but they weren’t as far apart as they had been, either physically or emotionally. From time to time, she caught Kathryn watching them closely too and they exchanged a smile. Laurie was on good form, considering it was his first Christmas with them, and Luke was his usual chatterbox self, encouraging them all to have a go at the football game that had come with his new games console and pretending to be offended when Nick beat him in the very first game.
‘Now we know what you do in between takes,’ Sam teased.
He shrugged and concentrated on the screen. ‘There’s a lot of downtime in the movie industry. Oi, referee, that was never a foul!’
The afternoon passed gently into evening. Just as she’d expected, Sam found herself dozing as she listened to the family chatter around her. And she wondered what Gabe was doing right at that moment; was he full of food and surrounded by love too? She hoped he was.
And then it was late, and Sam found herself covering up her yawns again.
‘Time for us to make a move,’ Nessie said, once their traditional game of Monopoly ended with Laurie making every single one of them bankrupt. ‘Busy day tomorrow.’
Sam nodded. ‘Especially now the village ladies know Nick is in town.’
Owen reached out to shake his hand. ‘Good to see you again, Nick. Catch you at the bar for a pint of Thirsty Bishop?’
‘Never mind the ladies,’ Kathryn said, rolling her eyes. ‘They’ll have to form an orderly queue behind the men.’
Sam did her best to keep Nick company once everyone had gone, but her body had other ideas. She woke up on the sofa, with a blanket draped over her, as the end credits of the film they’d been watching rolled across the screen.
‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. ‘I’m a terrible friend.’
Nick smiled from the armchair beside her. ‘You are. The least you can do when I turn up unexpectedly and crash Christmas is entertain me. I’d like a refund, please.’
Now it was Sam’s turn to smile. ‘You’ll need to contact the complaints department. Best of luck with finding it.’
He studied her for a moment, his good humour fading. ‘Is everything all right, Sam?’
She sat up, trying to smooth her hair. ‘Of course. I’m just tired. It’s been a hectic few weeks, what with Ness needing some time to recover.’ She pulled a wry face. ‘Christmas isn’t exactly quiet in the hospitality business, you know.’
‘No, I know,’ he said, his forehead creasing with concern. ‘But you look a bit – well, you’ll forgive me for saying this, but you look a bit less sparkling than usual. Are you coming down with something?’
Sam started to deny it and then hesitated. She had been more tired than usual over the last few days and there was a tingle in her nose that suggested a cold was on its way. ‘Oh god, I can’t be ill,’ she said with a groan. ‘Not before New Year’s Eve. I’ve got way too much to do.’
‘Berocca and rest, that’s what you need,’ Nick said wisely. ‘Why don’t you let me help out behind the bar tomorrow? That way you can fight off whatever it is that’s bringing you down and be match fit for the big party.’
‘I can’t ask you to do that,’ Sam said. ‘You’re a guest.’
‘Like I keep telling you, I’m a friend,’ he insisted. ‘And friends help each other out. No arguments, Sam. It’s happening.’
Feeling too weary to argue, Sam conceded defeat with a grateful smile. ‘Do you even know how to pull a pint?’
‘Of course I do,’ Nick said promptly. ‘I’ll have you know I’ve played a barman twice.’
‘In that case, the job’s yours,’ Sam said, doing her best to smile. ‘God help you if you mess up Henry’s pint.’
Chapter Nineteen
The days between Christmas and New Year seemed to both drag and fly by. Nick managed to make his getaway, in spite of Martha’s half-formed plan to imprison him in the bakery; Sam wished he’d been able to stay longer but accepted a promise that he’d be back as soon as his schedule allowed.
‘As long as you promise you’ll sort things out with this Gabe,’ Nick had insisted as he’d said goodbye. ‘Or I might be tempted to take matters into my own hands.’
The threatened cold had materialised on Boxing Day and Sam had spent the next few days coughing and sneezing. She kept a nervous eye on the calendar, hoping she’d be well again by New Year’s Eve and was relieved when she started to feel better. If she was going to take Nick’s advice and tell Gabe how she felt, the last thing she needed was a nose that was redder than Rudolph’s.
She found herself almost sick with nerves the morning Gabe was due to return. Her stomach roiled unpleasantly as she made up the guest rooms and she had to stop on more than one occasion to wait for the feeling to pass. By the time his car pulled up outside, she’d decided the best plan was to leave the Star and Sixpence and return to London, so their paths would never cross again.
‘Get a grip, Sam,’ she muttered under her breath as she splashed some water over her wrists and smoothed her hair into something that was vaguely presentable. ‘It’s just Gabe and he’s seen you looking much worse than this.’
She wasn’t prepared for the surge of attraction she felt when he walked into the bar. Her nerves tingled and there was a sharp burst of electricity deep inside her that made the breath catch in the back of her throat. His skin was more tanned than it had been before and he looked relaxed as he greeted Nessie and Connor. When his eyes met hers, she had to grip the bar.
‘Hello, Sam. How are you?’
‘Fine,’ she replied, hoping her voice didn’t sound as squeaky and tight as it felt. ‘Did you have a lovely Christmas?’
‘I did,’ he said, his gaze fixed on her. ‘But it is good to be back.’
It didn’t mean anything, Sam told herself as she lay in bed later, listening to the sound of him moving around in the room next door. He loved his job and had never made any secret of the fact that he adored the quaint village feel of Little Monkham. But there was a large part of her that hoped he’d meant more than that. She couldn’t help hoping that the reason Gabe was glad to be back had more to do with her than his job.
*
Sam struggled to get out of bed on Sunday morning. It was only the sound of Gabe’s door opening that gave her the impetus to push back the covers and brave the early morning chill. But she was determined to clear the air between them and this was the only time of day when she could guarantee they would not be interrupted. Dragging a brush through her hair, she reached for her dressing gown and suppressed a sudden bubble of wild laughter when she caught sight of her flannel pyjamas and slipper-clad feet. It had to be the least glamorous chat-up outfit ever.
He was seated at the kitchen table, reading a battered copy of Don Quixote, when she forced herself to
walk nervously inside.
‘Good morning,’ he said, looking up. ‘Did you sleep well?’
Sam cleared her throat. ‘Not bad. How about you?’
He placed his book face down on the table and stretched, revealing a sliver of taut, tanned stomach beneath his T-shirt. ‘I slept very well, thank you. There is something about this place that is very restful, at least at night.’ His mouth quirked. ‘During the day, it is too busy to be restful.’
Sam nodded. ‘Things will settle down in January. It’ll be less hectic then.’ She paused, then ploughed on. ‘And was everything okay with the food order? Olivia didn’t mention anything, so I assumed it was all okay. We can try and fix things if it isn’t – I know it’s Sunday, but a lot of places will be open, so if there’s something you need to replace, all you need to do is let us – me – know.’ She broke off, aware she was gabbling.
‘The order was fine,’ he said. ‘All exactly as I requested, thank you.’
She nodded again and steeled herself. It was better to come right out with it, she decided as she tried to quell a rising tide of panic. No sense in waiting.
But Gabe beat her to it. ‘There is something I need to say to you, Sam,’ he said, his brown eyes suddenly intense. ‘I have not been very fair to you. The mistake with the order for the wedding was not your fault, but I allowed myself to blame you.’
Sam stared at him, mouth open. ‘But—’
He held up a hand. ‘No, you must allow me to say this. It has been troubling me for some time and when I am wrong, I admit it.’
She sat at the table, unable to believe what she was hearing. ‘Go on.’
‘But more than blaming you for Laurie’s interference in the days that followed the wedding, I am not proud to say I punished you.’ Gabe sighed, but his eyes did not leave Sam’s. ‘I was not thinking straight. Jealousy was clouding my mind.’
The word hit Sam hard. ‘Jealousy?’
Gabe nodded. ‘Over your night with Joss. I knew I had no right to tell you what you could and could not do – on the surface we had only shared one or two kisses – but I also knew I wanted more than that.’ He paused. ‘I foolishly hoped you felt the same. And then Joss appeared and I was jealous of him and the easy way he came back into your life.’
Once again, Sam tried to interrupt, her stomach tied up in an agony of anguish, but Gabe would not let her.
‘No, I must finish this now.’ He glanced away in obvious embarrassment. ‘I allowed my feelings for you to affect my professional judgement and I am truly sorry. It will never happen again.’
Sam’s heart hammered in her chest. Had he . . . had he really just admitted he had feelings for her? Or had she hallucinated that part of his speech?
She swallowed hard. ‘What if I did feel the same?’
His head jerked up, wide-eyed. ‘What?’
‘What if I wanted more than a few kisses from you too?’ Sam said, fighting to keep her voice steady. ‘What if I had feelings for you?’
He stared at her wordlessly. ‘Are you telling me this is true?’ he said eventually. ‘What about Joss?’
Sam shook her head impatiently. ‘I told you at the time, it wasn’t what you thought. Yes, we spent the night together, but we both agreed it was a mistake. I haven’t seen Joss since. We haven’t even messaged each other.’
Slowly, Gabe got to his feet and rounded the table to kneel before her. ‘So what would happen if I kissed you now?’
Heart hammering in her chest, Sam gazed into his eyes. ‘I’d kiss you back.’
Without a moment’s hesitation, Gabe cupped her cheek and pulled her face towards him. His lips brushed hers, soft and tentative at first, as though he wasn’t sure how she might react. A burst of heat ignited within Sam and she leaned forwards, pressing against him, deepening the kiss. One hand tangled in his hair and the other caressed the back of his neck. There would be no misunderstandings this time, she decided with the only part of her brain that wasn’t distracted. She’d make sure he knew what she wanted.
When the kiss ended, they were both breathless and dazed. Sam blinked in the sunlight, looking at Gabe as though she was seeing him properly for the first time. ‘Just so we’re clear,’ she said, her voice low and husky. ‘It’s you I want, Gabe. No one else.’
He answered by kissing her again. And she gave up trying to think.
*
‘Great party, Sam!’ Rob beamed at her and raised a half-empty glass of Thirsty Bishop in salute. ‘Micky’s a bit of a legend, isn’t he?’
Sam turned to watch Micky strut across the stage, crooning into his microphone. No one could say he didn’t know how to entertain, she thought, shaking her head at his energy. She felt tired just watching him.
‘He’s rock ’n’ roll royalty,’ she said to Rob. ‘We’re so lucky to have him here.’
Rob raised an eyebrow. ‘If you ask me, it’s you we’re lucky to have. What you and Nessie have done for this place—’ He waved an arm and was in serious danger of losing the remainder of his pint. ‘What you’ve done is nothing short of brilliant. And we’re all grateful. Especially Martha.’
Sam smiled. Martha might go on about fancying Nick and Gabe, but she was devoted to Rob, just as he was to her. But they were both Star and Sixpence stalwarts; Sam couldn’t imagine the pub without them. ‘Thank you. Believe me, it’s our pleasure.’
Gabe came to find her just after eleven-thirty. ‘I’m not taking any chances,’ he said, snaking an arm around her waist. ‘There’s only one person I want to welcome the new year with and that’s you.’
Sam reached up to kiss him. ‘Hold that thought. We need to pour the champagne – everyone needs a glass in their hand when the clock strikes midnight.’
The last thirty minutes of the year whizzed by in a blur of bubbles. At last, everyone was ready and they gathered on the village green to bring in the new year. Sam caught sight of Nessie, hand in hand with Owen, and smiled. She knew it hadn’t been easy, but they seemed to be getting stronger with each day that passed.
Leaning into Gabe, Sam tipped her head back to gaze at the stars overhead as the thirty-second countdown began. A rush of light-headedness assailed her, causing her vision to waver. Sam shook her head to clear the fuzziness and tiny pinpricks of light danced across her eyes, shadowed by grey. Maybe she should lay off the champagne, she thought muzzily.
‘Sam?’ Gabe said, but his voice seemed to be coming from a long way away.
‘I’m okay,’ she started to say, but her lips wouldn’t form the words.
Her legs began to buckle. She heard the countdown from ten begin and then the darkness claimed her.
When she came to, she was lying on one of the oversized sofas inside the pub with a sea of anxious faces around her.
‘She’s awake,’ Nessie said, and the relief in her voice was unmistakable. ‘Can you hear me, Sam?’
‘Yeah,’ Sam said, still confused. ‘What happened?’
Gabe’s face swam into view. ‘You fainted, out on the green. I caught you before you hit the ground and carried you in here.’
Fainted? Sam tried to sit up, horrified.
‘No you don’t,’ Nessie said, placing a hand on her shoulder to ease her back onto the sofa. ‘Not until I know you’re okay.’
‘Is there some water?’ Sam asked, still trying to understand what had happened. The last thing she remembered was standing on the green with Gabe, waiting for the countdown to begin. She didn’t remember feeling unwell.
A glass was thrust into her hand. Gabe and Nessie helped her upright. She took a long drink and felt a burst of anguish at the worried expressions around her.
‘Oh god, I’ve totally ruined New Year’s Eve, haven’t I?’
‘Of course not,’ Nessie reassured her. ‘You can’t help it if you’re not well.’
‘But I’m fine now,’ Sam said, feeling her cheeks start to burn. ‘Really I am. Go and have a drink, everyone. I’m sorry.’
Once the crowd had dispersed
a little, Nessie fixed Sam with a stern look. ‘You’ve been poorly for over a week now. I think it’s time you visited the doctor, don’t you?’
Sam shook her head. ‘It’s New Year’s Day. I won’t get an appointment for ages, by which time I’ll be totally fine.’
‘No arguments,’ Nessie said, in a voice that Sam knew better than to argue with. ‘Ring the surgery tomorrow and get the first available appointment. Do you hear me?’
‘Yes, Nessie,’ Sam said meekly.
‘Good,’ Nessie said. She glanced at Gabe, who was hovering beside her, looking troubled. ‘Can I leave her with you for a while? I need to help out behind the bar – poor Laurie is rushed off his feet.’
‘Of course,’ Gabe said, sitting next to Sam. ‘I’ll look after her.’
Sam waited until Nessie had gone before turning to Gabe. ‘Honestly, I’m fine. I probably haven’t eaten properly, that’s all.’
‘Again?’ Gabe growled. ‘I can see I am going to have to cook for you, if you won’t do it for yourself.’
Sam smiled. She could think of worse things. ‘I bet I spilled my champagne, didn’t I?’
He rubbed at his trouser leg. ‘You did.’
‘Oh. Sorry.’ She hesitated and looked up at him through her eyelashes. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of another glass, is there? Purely for medicinal purposes. It is New Year’s Day, after all.’
For a moment, she thought he might refuse. Then he smiled. ‘Only if you let me feed you some canapés first.’
Sam let out a long-suffering sigh. ‘If you must, Gabe. If you must.’
*
Dr Arnold smiled, her hands folded on the desk in front of her as she studied Sam. ‘What can I do for you today?’
Sam shook her head, embarrassed, and wondered for the hundredth time why she’d allowed Nessie to talk her into this when she was perfectly fine. ‘It’s probably nothing. My sister insisted I come.’
She explained her symptoms, downplaying the fainting episode as much as she could. When she’d finished, the GP nodded. ‘Well, it doesn’t sound too serious. Where are you in your cycle?’