Finding Love at the Christmas Market Read online

  Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  THIRTY-NINE

  FORTY

  FORTY-ONE

  FORTY-TWO

  FORTY-THREE

  FORTY-FOUR

  FORTY-FIVE

  FORTY-SIX

  FORTY-SEVEN

  FORTY-EIGHT

  FORTY-NINE

  FIFTY

  FIFTY-ONE

  FIFTY-TWO

  FIFTY-THREE

  READ ON FOR RECIPES WITH ALL THE FESTIVE FLAVOUR OF THE CHRISTMAS MARKET

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  About the Author

  Jo Thomas worked for many years as a reporter and producer, first for BBC Radio 5, before moving on to Radio 4’s Woman’s Hour and Radio 2’s The Steve Wright Show.

  In 2013 Jo won the RNA Katie Fforde Bursary. Her debut novel, The Oyster Catcher, was a runaway bestseller in ebook and was awarded the 2014 RNA Joan Hessayon Award and the 2014 Festival of Romance Best Ebook Award. Jo lives in the Vale of Glamorgan with her husband and three children.

  Also by Jo Thomas

  THE OYSTER CATCHER

  THE OLIVE BRANCH

  LATE SUMMER IN THE VINEYARD

  THE HONEY FARM ON THE HILL

  SUNSET OVER CHERRY ORCHARD

  A WINTER BENEATH THE STARS

  MY LEMON GROVE SUMMER

  COMING HOME TO WINTER ISLAND

  ESCAPE TO THE FRENCH FARMHOUSE

  Ebook short stories:

  THE CHESTNUT TREE

  THE RED SKY AT NIGHT

  NOTES FROM THE NORTHERN LIGHTS

  To my gorgeous daughter, and my very own baker, Ffi. So proud of you and to be your mum. x

  Hiraeth – ‘is a Welsh concept of longing for home. “Hiraeth” is a word which cannot be completely translated, meaning more than solely “missing something” or “missing home”. It implies missing a time, an era, or a person, including homesickness for what may not exist any longer.’ Wikipedia

  ONE

  ‘Am I wearing Aunt Lucy’s watch again?’

  ‘Does anybody want a Fox’s Glacier Mint?’

  ‘It would have been much quicker if we’d flown!’

  ‘Alice, we haven’t even left the estate yet!’

  ‘I’m just saying, me and my husband always flew.’

  Everyone is talking across each other, and loudly. The minibus lurches as I take my foot off the clutch too quickly. It stalls. The passengers fall silent with the engine. ‘I’m not even sure I can drive this!’ I say, gripping the unfamiliar steering wheel and checking my foot position on the pedals. I look up and out of the windscreen at the early-morning drizzle outside the Lavender Hill retirement flats. If there ever was a lavender hill around here, it’s long gone. Every bit of green space is now a building site. Blue plastic sheeting, covering pallets and skips full of building waste, flaps in the breeze.

  ‘Remind me.’ I turn to look at Pearl, sitting just behind me. ‘Why are we doing this again?’

  ‘Because it’s what Elsie wanted. She loved Christmas. Her flat was full of lights. She left instructions to scatter her ashes “somewhere Christmassy in my home country”. I can’t think of anywhere more Christmassy than a German Christmas market. We’re putting her to rest among the lights and joy of Christmas at its best. That’s why we’re all here. And you get to go on a fabulous date! Anyway, the power and water are out at the flats. We’d all have had to move out for the next week. The builders hit a pipe or a cable or something.’ She waves a dismissive hand. ‘I’d never have got everyone to agree to come otherwise.’ She motions to the minibus full of Elsie’s mourners.

  ‘She really had no one,’ I state.

  ‘Never married. No siblings.’

  We shake our heads.

  ‘Now, come on,’ Pearl says. ‘Let’s get this bus moving, or we’ll miss the Eurotunnel. And you’ll miss your date. The online date of a lifetime at the German Christmas markets. What could be more romantic?’

  I take hold of the ignition key and hesitate. My stomach squeezes into a tight ball. ‘The date of a lifetime?’ I raise a sceptical eyebrow.

  ‘I’m sure of it!’ says Pearl. ‘He’s a lovely man.’

  ‘That’s because you found him online and messaged him for me. You and the Silver Surfers Computer Club you used to go to.’

  ‘Before the new owners stopped all activities here at the flats. Said they were too expensive to run, just like the café.’ Pearl rolls her eyes, then gives a wide smile.

  I look at the building in front of us. I can just make out the fizzy-drinks machine in the foyer, the space where there was once a café for visitors. The new owners had also cancelled film nights and Sunday-afternoon teas as well as the computer club, which Pearl had loved. Instead Meadowsweet Meals had moved in, a weekly frozen-food service, delivering single-portion ready meals to the inhabitants. The hours had suited me when I’d started, but now there are more customers and I find it hard to do my deliveries in the allocated time and always end up working late.

  ‘So, I’m going on a date that you’ve set up for me,’ I say slowly, ‘and you’re coming too.’ I laugh. It sounds ridiculous.

  ‘Well, we get to fulfil Elsie’s wishes.’ She holds the urn tightly to her. ‘Come on, this is for Elsie.’

  I check the gearstick and turn on the engine. It starts up eagerly.

  ‘And for you to meet your prince.’ Pearl beams.

  ‘Hang on there!’ I turn back to her, feeling panic and excitement all at the same time.

  She winks.

  ‘It’s just a date!’ I exclaim. ‘It’s not like I haven’t done a few already.’

  ‘But this one is in a German market,’ says Pearl. ‘It’ll be fun. We should all have a little fun before it’s too late. Like poor Elsie. One day you’re there, watching Pointless with unidentifiable fish in watery parsley sauce, the next you’re gone.’

  ‘I know.’ I’m sad that Elsie can’t be with us today.

  ‘It’s still a shock. No matter how old we get, we’re never quite ready for it,’ says Pearl, putting a hand on my shoulder.

  ‘Well, I didn’t expect to find her like that when I delivered her fish pie and toad-in-the-hole with onion gravy.’ More mash than fish and more gravy than toad, I think. I wish, again, that I could be a part of future Meadowsweet Meals, making the food more enticing and enjoyable. I push the minibus into first and slowly release the clutch, rolling forward towards the main road.

  If Pearl hadn’t responded to the message from Heinrich, I’m not sure I would have done. But she did and we’re going to Germany. I’m terrified. I take a deep breath. I just need to stick to my usual plan. If he doesn’t tick the boxes, he isn’t the right one. I think of my notebook safely in my handbag. Sam bought it for me last Christmas. I used
to love Christmas when Sam was small. Even when his dad and I were drifting apart, it was always a special time with Sam. Before that, my mum and nan had always made Christmas great. Somehow, it doesn’t feel very special any more.

  I look in my rear-view mirror as I pull up at the end of the drive. Despite the Christmas songs on the radio, no one looks as if they have much Christmas cheer. Apart from Ron, who’s already asleep with a Santa hat slipping over one eye.

  ‘You’ve been messaging Heinrich in Germany for weeks now. It’s time you met up,’ Pearl says excitedly. ‘If Elsie hadn’t insisted on us doing something Christmassy with her ashes, who knows when you’d have got round to meeting up with him?’

  I’m a bag of nerves all over again. ‘But it was you who replied to his message in the first place.’

  ‘Of course!’ Pearl smiles. ‘He sounded just your type.’

  ‘Pearl!’

  ‘Well, after some of the disasters you’ve had online, especially that one,’ she says, and I go cold at the mention of it, ‘someone had to keep an eye on you and help you out.’

  Cars pass us on both sides of the main road and I’m stuck, wondering whether to pull out or not. I wait for the right moment.

  ‘I …’ I want to differ but can’t. I’ve had some right disasters since I started online dating, and Pearl now seems to want to torment me by listing them.

  ‘… and then there was the one who sent you a picture of his thingy while you were ironing and you threw your phone across the room.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ I hold up a hand. ‘Enough!’

  ‘This is the right way forward. Get your checklist and make sure he ticks every box. You’ve already made a good start on it. And you were always saying about the lad you met on that school exchange, years ago. I thought Heinrich sounded just like him … the one that got away.’

  She’s right. I’m not going to get it wrong this time. He has to be fairly close to being the right one, if I’m driving a minibus to Germany to meet him. And if he is, I’m not letting him get away.

  ‘I love your weekly updates on your online dating news. So I thought I’d give you a hand. I want to be there to see you meet up. I want a bit of fun! And what better way than to see two young people fall in love?’

  ‘I’m not sure love has anything to do with it, Pearl. It’s seeing if we’re a match.’ I look down at the pedals again and let out a ‘Phffff! … I’m not sure I can do this.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ says Pearl. ‘You’ve been driving that little Meadowsweet van for years. Not that there’s anything sweet about their ready meals.’ In the mirror I can see her downturned mouth. I’ve never been able to stop feeling guilty about delivering their ready meals to my customers, knowing the picture on the box bears no resemblance to the contents.

  ‘If it wasn’t for you slipping us one of your lovely cakes, Connie dear, and looking forward to your visits, I’d have cancelled my subscription ages ago and lived off toast and marmalade.’

  ‘You can’t live off toast and marmalade, Pearl,’ I say, waggling the long gearstick to check it’s in neutral, just to be on the safe side.

  ‘Well, it might be better than being killed off by the muck Meadowsweet send us. Not sure which would be the preferable way to go.’

  ‘Oh,’ I suddenly remember, ‘I saw the postwoman when I arrived this morning. I told her we’d be away for a few days. She wished you all a lovely time and a happy Christmas.’ I reach into my big handbag and hand Pearl the pile of Christmas cards and bills. ‘There’s one for you and a few others. Can you pass them round?’ She takes them from me, as I watch in the mirror, looks at her own letter and slips it into her coat pocket, then hands around the others.

  ‘Norman?’ calls Pearl, like she’s doing the school register.

  Norman straightens his hat, taking the letter with a smile. ‘That’ll be from my sister, wanting me to go for Christmas again. But it’s miles away and I always feel a bit awkward. I think they only invite me out of politeness.’ He looks at Pearl, but her eyes are elsewhere.

  ‘Mine’ll be from my niece, hoping I don’t go for Christmas again and telling me about her plans for a Caribbean Christmas,’ says Maeve.

  ‘And I’ll have got one from my daughter, with her list for the grandchildren, all the expensive presents,’ says Alice. ‘She’ll be inviting me for Boxing Day cold cuts. Nothing says “unwanted” more than being invited for the leftovers.’

  ‘Why she can’t just email like everyone else is beyond me. You’d think that just because we’re in sheltered housing we’re senile,’ says Pearl.

  ‘And stupid, judging by what she’d like me to spend on her children,’ Alice adds, opening the card and letter enclosed.

  Phffff! The atmosphere in the bus becomes as miserable as the wet, dark weather outside.

  ‘Right,’ I say, feeling like the Grinch, stealing the Christmas spirit. ‘Let’s get moving.’ Let’s get away from all the things that are bringing these people down. Christmas is supposed to be happy, not like this, with people feeling unloved, put-upon and lonely.

  I shove the minibus into gear, release the clutch, slowly this time, and we roll forwards smoothly without the kangarooing of my last attempt. There’s a cheer from my passengers and I can feel their spirits lifting as we pull away from everyday life.

  I double-check both ways for a break in the traffic and drive out onto the main road. My passengers let out a little cheer so I put on the radio and George Michael’s voice fills the vehicle. With a bit of effort, I manage to get the windscreen wipers and heater working.

  ‘Germany, here we come!’ Pearl says, the smile plastered back on her face.

  ‘Will there be a toilet stop soon?’ asks Alice.

  ‘What time will we arrive?’ Maeve wants to know.

  ‘I think I’ve brought the wrong glasses!’ Norman says.

  ‘As long as they don’t make me eat sauerkraut! And I’ve never been a lover of big sausages either. Give me wind,’ Maeve says.

  ‘I’m sure this is Aunt Lucy’s watch. It’s not keeping time at all,’ says Norman.

  ‘Who’d like a Fox’s Glacier Mint?’ asks Ron, finishing his Bounty bar.

  ‘It would have been much quicker if we’d flown. Me and my late husband always flew,’ says Alice. ‘He insisted on it.’

  John hasn’t said anything so far. He’s looking out of the window.

  Di and her husband Graham have their heads in their Kindles, as they always do. He loves romance, she goes for thrillers. Graham holds his stick in one hand – he’s used it since the stroke – and his Kindle in the other.

  What on earth have I let myself in for? But Pearl is right. I’m going to meet Heinrich. I must be mad, but she insisted I needed to get back in the saddle after my last disaster. I can’t help but smile as the minibus rolls away from the estate and towards the motorway. The windscreen wipers creak to and fro. I check the rear-view mirror, and see a swinging piece of tinsel – a nod to the festive season. Half of me wonders if Elsie and Pearl planned this, just to get me back out on a date. I wouldn’t put it past Pearl. But I’m doing it. I’m going on a date. Thanks to Elsie and Pearl.

  ‘Come on, Elsie, let’s find that Christmas market. Let’s take you home,’ I say, remembering the urn in Pearl’s lap.

  And the bus falls into a sleepy silence as the residents of Lavender Hill retirement flats gaze out of the window, alone with their thoughts.

  After a couple of hours of silence, apart from Ron and Maeve’s snoring, my passengers start to break from their thoughts.

  ‘What time will we get there, Connie love?’

  ‘Would have been quicker if we’d flown,’ Alice repeats.

  I turn up the radio and watch the miles pass steadily by to the same Christmas tunes. I’m going on a date! We’re taking Elsie on her final journey, and I’m going on a date. And who knows? This could be my perfect match!

  ‘What time’s the next loo break?’

  ‘Soon, soon,’ I say. />
  ‘Are you sure you know the way, love? I could always take the wheel,’ says Norman.

  ‘We have satnav!’ I say. ‘What can go wrong?’

  TWO

  ‘Make a U-turn! Make a U-turn!’ the satnav repeats, like a stuck CD, shredding my nerves.

  ‘If we hadn’t stopped for that last loo break, we wouldn’t be lost,’ says Maeve.

  ‘If we’d flown—’

  ‘Shut up, Alice!’ everyone says in unison.

  The atmosphere is as frosty as the nip in the air when we left. But we’ll miss our crossing if we can’t find our way back to the motorway soon. My heart’s thumping.

  ‘If there hadn’t been that diversion …’

  ‘Just follow the map. Who’s got a map?’ says Norman.

  I focus on the satnav, but it keeps taking me the same way, not understanding the diversion. After all this time messaging each other, I may not get to meet Heinrich at all. My chance at meeting my ideal partner ruined because of a toilet stop and a diversion for a burst water main. I can’t let it happen.

  ‘Right!’ I say loudly, over the cacophony, swinging the minibus around and going in totally the opposite direction to the way the satnav is telling me. At least we’re off the roundabout we seem to have been circumnavigating for ever.

  ‘Completely the wrong way! Let me drive! We’ll never get there in time!’ Ron says.

  ‘If we’d flown …’

  I block out all the noise and unhelpful advice coming from the back of the bus.

  ‘Go on, Connie,’ says Pearl, quietly, behind me, as I ignore the satnav and offers of the map and head in what I hope is the right direction, away from the little town where we stopped and its diversion. ‘You can do it.’ Pearl’s voice again, among the noise. The only thing I can do is follow my gut instinct. It doesn’t look like the right direction, but it feels right and suddenly we’re back on track, heading towards the motorway.

  As we pull up at the Eurotunnel port, there’s a cheer from the back of the bus.

  ‘Knew you’d do it, Connie love,’ Pearl says, as dawn begins to break and we drive onto the train that will take us under the Channel.