Winter Wishes (33 page)

Tara hung her head. “I led her to believe that, Dan. I’m so sorry.”

“Tara, I’m not here to start throwing blame about,” he said softly. “We’ve both messed up. The past isn’t the issue. It’s where we go from now that will count.”

“But Jules doesn’t know that.” Tara was starting to see the problem. “Because you can’t tell her the truth, she thinks she’s breaking up our marriage.”

“She’s a vicar, T, and she feels very strongly that marriage is sacred. She marries people and teaches marriage classes. How can she do her job, fulfil her vocation, keep her faith – call it what you will – if she thinks that she herself has broken up a marriage?” His voice was full of anguish. “Nothing I can say will change her mind. She’s resigned from St Wenn’s and she’s leaving after Christmas.”

But there
was
something that Danny could have told Jules, wasn’t there? One explanation that could help her to understand why there would never be any hope for his marriage. A more selfish man would have blurted out that secret, sharing it in the anticipation that he could trade it for his own happiness – but Danny was probably the most selfless person Tara had ever known. He had given his strength and his health and even a limb to do his duty for his country; he had stood by her even when he’d had the worst suspicions; and now he would protect Morgan, even if it cost him the woman he was in love with.

Tara’s mouth was dry as she whispered, “You could tell her the truth.”

His head snapped up. “The truth?”

“About what I did. What I told you. The real reason we’ll never mend our marriage.”

Danny’s jaw was taut with determination. “I gave my word that I’ll never mention that until you think it’s the right time. I won’t go back on what I promised. Not even for Jules. Morgan is my son, Tara, and I will always put him first. Always.”

He would, Tara knew that – just as she knew that Danny would also keep his word. All the way through their relationship Danny had been constant. As a girl she’d thought it meant he was dull and staid; now that she was a woman, she knew his worth could never be measured.

Morgan could never ask for a better father.

There was nothing more they could say. Minutes stretched. Tara searched for something she could offer as a solution, but the words withered on her tongue. All she could think of were useless platitudes. She was filled with sadness, regret and guilt, but those were no help to him either.

 “I should go,” Danny said. He was standing now and leaning on the frame of the door between the kitchen and the sitting room. He looked tired and his face was etched with new lines. Tara could hardly bear to see the effect of all this heartache on him. She didn’t want him to leave, not like this. Surely there was a way she could make amends?

“You don’t have to go, Dan. You can have a beer if you like?”

But he was already at the door, his hand on the latch. “I don’t think it’s going to help anyone if I start drinking now.”

“OK, so I’ll make some coffee. I’ve biscuits too.”

He shook his head. “I’ll get going. The path to Seaspray will be lethal if this carries on. Don’t look so worried, T. I’m not about to hurl myself off the cliffs. Not yet, anyway.”

Danny was joking but as the door clicked shut Tara wasn’t laughing. She hated to see him so despairing. What a mess she’d made of everything. Morgan’s life, Danny’s life and even Jules’s life – all three had been affected by her actions, even if they weren’t all aware of it. What could she do to put things right?

Outside the snow was getting heavier. Feathery flakes tumbled from the dark sky, landing on the steps outside and starting to cover the footprints left by Danny. Tara wished with all her heart that she could as easily cover over the mess she’d made of everyone’s lives.

There was a way, of course, and she realised now what it would be. Hadn’t Ivy already shown her? The only question was whether or not she was brave enough to see it through.

Chapter 24

The snow was falling hard on Cornwall, gathering on cottage rooftops and settling on the bare-limbed trees. The trawlers down in Polwenna’s harbour were iced like cakes, their mooring ropes frozen stiff, and the quay was covered in a plump white duvet. In the distance a man was walking a chocolate Labrador on the beach, and the dog’s dark coat seemed to leap out against the whiteness. Elsewhere in the village, drifts were starting to build up against the garden gates and dry-stone walls. As Jules leaned her head against the cold window and heated the glass with her breath, the presenter on Radio Cornwall was interviewing a motorist who’d been stranded in his car up on the A30. The county was in the grip of a very unusual cold snap, and everything was grinding to a standstill.

It might look very seasonal, with the white vicarage garden only lacking a cheerful robin to complete the picture, but Jules could have done without this added complication. Aside from all the packing she still had to do, Christmas Eve was one of the busiest days of her year, and trying to negotiate Polwenna Bay in the snow was hard work at best and a recipe for a broken neck at worst. Driving to the hospital to visit Ivy had been one of the most terrifying things she’d ever done. Her little Peugeot had slipped and skidded all the way, and several times Jules had thought she was a goner. She wouldn’t attempt to leave the village again if this weather kept up. The steep main road out was treacherous already and only four-by-fours stood a chance of making it. Most of the villagers had adopted a siege mentality, stopping work for Christmas a day early and heading to the pub for mulled wine. Jules couldn’t help feeling envious. Christmas might mean a holiday and a big roast dinner to them, but to her it was a huge amount of work.

Ivy was the Polwenna Bay Angel. Jules hadn’t seen that one coming. People never ceased to surprise you, did they? The sad story of Ivy falling out with her own family, and of her stubborn pride standing in the way of making peace with them, had made quite an impression on Jules. It had made her reflect on her own situation too. Was she being proud? Was what she’d thought of as doing the right thing actually a sin of pride? Her temples thudded. How could she know for sure?

Give me a sign
, Jules prayed.
Show me what to do.

As she gazed out over the village, Jules ran through her mental list of things to do and ticked off those she’d managed to achieve. So far today she’d conducted two of her three services – one at a nursing home and then the carol service on the village green – before visiting Ivy and picking up some shopping for a couple of her elderly parishioners. Although it was only early afternoon, there was no time to put her feet up; St Wenn’s needed to be ready for Midnight Mass.

Jules had checked the church several times since this morning, but no matter how high she cranked the thermostat the atmosphere was still arctic. Jules was becoming increasingly concerned that her congregation would be in danger of getting hypothermia. The heating was trying to do its best, but its asthmatic gasps of lukewarm air into the chilly depths of an ancient church were pretty ineffectual. Whilst in town she’d picked up thermal long johns to wear beneath her cassock, but she feared that the extra layer wouldn’t be enough. Her hands had turned blue while she was setting out the carol sheets and in the end she’d had to retreat into the vicarage to thaw out.

If Jules survived Midnight Mass without getting frostbite then there would be the Christmas morning service complete with the Christingle candles, followed by dinner with the mayor at the Polwenna Bay Hotel, before she could even think about drawing breath. Everyone wanted a piece of the Reverend Jules Mathieson at Christmas. Still, busy was good. Busy didn’t leave her any time to pause and reflect. Busy ensured that she didn’t have a moment to think about how much she missed Danny or to feel heartbroken about leaving the village.

Jules traced a heart shape in the mist on the windowpane, before rubbing it out and returning to her desk. She was feeling as bleak as the weather and there was no hope whatsoever of her circumstances thawing out. Even the bright fairy lights twinkling on the tree and the carols playing in the background couldn’t lift her spirits.

If she was this unhappy on Christmas Eve, what on earth was it going to be like on New Year’s Day when she moved out?

She was making a start on sorting out her books and papers in readiness for the move, wondering how she’d managed to collect so much stuff in just ten months, when there was a knock on the door. Jules looked up in despair. Whoever had coined the phrase
no peace for the wicked
hadn’t seen how hectic a vicar’s life was. Abandoning her packing, Jules unlocked the front door, only to come face to face with the one person she had least expected to see.

It was Tara Tremaine.

“It’s getting worse out there,” Tara said, stepping into the porch without being invited, stamping her boots on the mat and peeling off her gloves. Snow had settled on her hood; as she pushed it away from her face an icy flurry fell to the floor. “I’ve lived in Cornwall most of my life and I’ve never seen it like this.”

Jules pushed her hair behind her ears as she regarded Danny’s wife. She was pink-cheeked from the cold and her hair was damp with melting snow, but she still looked stunning. Wearing a red duffle coat that hugged her curves, white skinny jeans and knee boots, she could have stepped straight out of a Marks and Spencer Christmas ad. In jeans and a fisherman’s sweater, Jules felt tatty in comparison.

“Do you have time to talk?” Tara asked.

Jules was about to say that she was particularly busy today, but seeing that Tara was shivering it seemed rude to send her away without letting her warm up first. Besides, she was biting her lips and her brow was crinkled. Something was up. Was it Danny? Had something happened? Her stomach almost rose into her throat at the very thought.

“Sure,” she said. “Come on in, but excuse the mess. I’ve started packing. Would you like a hot drink?”

“Coffee would be great. Thanks.” Tara followed her into the kitchen, perching on the edge of one of the chairs that was the least piled with belongings. “Wow. You have been busy. You really are planning to move, aren’t you?”

Jules flicked on the kettle and selected two mugs from the cupboard. “Absolutely. It’s all happening here. Look, Tara, I don’t want to seem rude but I’ve got a lot on today and a service to prepare for. What did you want to talk about?”

Tara inhaled deeply. Her hazel eyes were troubled. “This isn’t easy for me. I’m going to tell you something, something really important, but I need you to promise me that it will never go any further.”

“I can’t promise that if I think it’s something that’s putting you or somebody else at risk,” Jules said automatically, spooning coffee granules into the mugs and then pouring on boiling water.

“It’s nothing like that. It’s something really important that you need to know. Something that will make you understand why Danny can’t be with me anymore and why, actually, I know that he’s right to walk away from our relationship.”

Jules shook her head. “You guys have a marriage and a child. There is every reason to stay.”

“Even if the child isn’t his?”

Stunned, Jules stood absent-mindedly pouring boiling water onto the worktop. She only realised what she was doing when Tara gently took the kettle from her and mopped up the spillage with a stray tea towel.

“Yes, I did just say what you thought I said,” Tara told her, wringing the tea towel out over the sink. “Maybe you need a brandy in your coffee?”

“I think I need you to explain,” Jules said. Her legs felt shaky and she sat down on a kitchen chair. She wasn’t sure what it was she thought Tara had come to say, but she certainly hadn’t predicted this.

Tara opened the fridge, fished out the milk and sloshed some into the mugs. Pushing a coffee across to Jules, she sat opposite her and took a sip of her own drink before starting to speak. “This isn’t easy for me to say. The only other person who knows is Danny and that’s a decision we made together. He would never breathe a word and he certainly wouldn’t approve of me being here now.”

Jules wrapped her hands around the mug.
Trust me
was what Danny had said;
there is no way I can fix my marriage.
Was this what he’d been alluding to? Was this why he’d been so bitter about his ex? Tara had cheated on him and Morgan wasn’t his biological son? Her head was whirling. Danny adored Morgan. She’d never met a more devoted father.

 It didn’t make sense.

“What happened?” she asked gently. “If you still want to tell me, that is?”

Tara stared into her coffee. “If I could turn time back I’d do so many things differently, including not taking my relationship with Danny for granted. I’m not proud of myself. What can I say in my defence? Not a great deal, except that just over nine years ago we were living on a base in Germany and I was very young. I hated living there, Jules. I didn’t speak a word of German and the other wives were way older than me and really snooty. I hardly saw Dan. He was busy with his regiment all the time.”

“You were lonely.” Jules could understand that.

Tara nodded. “I was. Don’t think I didn’t love Danny, Jules. I did. He was the golden boy and I adored him. Should we have married so young though? Probably not, but we weren’t thinking ahead. I didn’t have a clue what army life would really be like. I thought it would be uniforms and parties and travel, not looking at four grey walls in a grey house and never seeing my husband.”

“So what happened?”

“I had a fling.” Tara dashed her hand across her eyes. “It was only the one time and it was so stupid. I hated myself the minute it happened and I swore it wouldn’t happen again. You can probably guess the rest.” She looked up and laughed bitterly. “I’m Polwenna Bay’s answer to
The Jeremy Kyle Show
, aren’t I?”

Although she was shocked – after all, this was Danny they were talking about – Jules had enough pastoral experience to know that these situations were never clear cut. It must have taken a great deal of courage for Tara to come up and tell her this.