Let It Snow. Sue Moorcroft

Warwick perched on his stool in front of the silver keyboard. Carola took her place facing the group as a sort of unofficial leader. ‘We’ll begin with “Once in Royal David’s City”.’ She counted Warwick and Eddie in then the voices soared in to join them. Next came ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing’ and ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’ before they began on the Christmas pop songs.

      Later, when they took a break to sip water and refuel on shortbread, they talked over what they’d wear to sing on their Swiss trip and decided on red bobble hats and scarves with black overshirts. Carola noted sizes and agreed to do the ordering, reflecting that it was as well that BCF was covering the expense.

      In the second part of the afternoon they worked on ‘Walking in the Air’ – which even Lily had to agree was coming along nicely – and the flirty, dashing ‘Let it Snow’ to open a set. By the end of the afternoon they’d also settled most of the programme for the trade fair – a set of ten songs rounded off with a rousing rendition of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ – and knew how they’d expand the set for the Christmas market, which would be less formal and possibly lubricated by glühwein and eierkirsch – mulled wine or eggnog.

      ‘Right,’ Lily said as Franciszka hurried off because she’d promised to give her daughter a lift into Bettsbrough. ‘That was brilliant, thank you everyone. Hands up who’s looking forward to travelling to Switzerland!’ She laughed to see a forest of hands – two from each of the teenagers.

      ‘I still feel bad I can’t share the driving as I first promised,’ Neil admitted sheepishly. ‘My punishment’s affecting a lot more than just me.’ He hung his head.

      Eddie pulled a face as he slid his guitar back into its gig bag. ‘Yeah, Dad’s Taxi is rubbish since you lost your licence.’ But he clapped his father on the shoulder sympathetically. Neil had had a heavy evening at a hotel with fellow sales reps at a ‘company jolly’ and the police had lain in wait with their breathalysers in the morning. Seven out of ten reps had retained sufficient alcohol in their blood to blow positive and one of them was Neil, who’d avoided unemployment by the skin of his teeth. He’d been offered reassignment in the Bettsbrough office at a lower grade but some of the others had found themselves looking for new companies to join.

      Lily knew how terrible Neil felt about his lapse and though she hadn’t bargained for driving all the way from Cambridgeshire to central Switzerland gave him a consoling smile. ‘I’ll manage. We’ll make lots of stops so I can stretch my legs.’

      Carola smiled apologetically too. ‘If only I could drive on the wrong side of the road. I get panic attacks at the thought.’

      ‘I’ll manage,’ Lily repeated. Once everyone had called goodbye she slipped down to her flat to change into black trousers and a polo top. She redid her hair, plaiting a section to tuck into her ponytail, watched TV while she made and ate an omelette then burrowed her way into the down-filled parka she’d bought ready for Switzerland and hurried through the village towards the pub, her hands tucked in her pockets against a wind that carried the scent of snow on its frozen edge.

      Though it was barely the second week of November Christmas lights were appearing on houses and trees twinkling from windows. The outdoor illumination at The Three Fishes had been organised before Tubb left the country and it looked as if someone had cast a giant net of sparkling white lights over it, making the building shimmer.

      Lily hurried in through the back door and was hanging up her coat when Isaac appeared and sat down at the desk in the alcove. He was all in black – shirt, tie and trousers – and his dark hair had a lustre like a crow’s wing. He gave her a quick smile. ‘So you came back despite that guy on Thursday.’

      She returned his smile as she smoothed her ponytail, remembering the belligerence she’d encountered at Bar Barcelona without any of Sergio’s family showing any sign of noticing. ‘’Course. You must’ve had plenty at your last place – it was Juno Lounge, wasn’t it? Big, busy venue.’

      He shrugged. ‘There, yes, but it’s different in a village pub.’

      He turned to his laptop and Lily went through to the bar. Several tables in the dining area were already occupied and the bar was filling nicely considering it was only six o’clock. The Christmas lights reflected in glasses and beer pumps and even the smiling eyes of the customers. Tina was on duty too. She was the staff member who was licensed to deputise when Isaac was off. In her fifties, Tina was soft and round with a frizz of curls on top of her head, unflappable and efficient. She drove in from nearby Bettsbrough where she lived with her husband and two sons, all of whom seemed as affable as she whenever Lily encountered them.

      Tina smiled at Lily. ‘Got quite a few bookings for the dining area tonight so listen for Chef’s bell when he needs service or he’ll go off on one.’

      ‘Got it,’ Lily said, taking an order for three pints of bitter and a sparkling water from a short man with a beard. The level of noise rose as more punters arrived for a Saturday evening’s entertainment. When Isaac reappeared in the bar Lily checked with him, ‘OK if I do a round with the raffle tickets if there’s a lull?’ The proceeds of the raffle went to the children’s party at the village hall.

      He glanced up as he waited at the pumps for a stream of near-black Guinness to fill a pint glass. ‘Sure. I’ll get the stuff out of the safe for you.’

      So Lily sold raffle tickets, pulled pints, ferried food, sanitised and relaid tables. Finally it was eleven o’clock, the bar was empty and Isaac was locking the doors behind the last customer. The kitchen staff had clattered out already.

      As Isaac took the till reading and released the till drawer ready to cash up, Lily and Tina began to clean tables and rearrange chairs. Then Tina wriggled into a silver-grey puffa coat that made her look a bit like an airship, shouted goodbye and stepped outside. Lily was about to follow when Isaac reappeared, with Doggo bouncing at his heels. When he saw Lily Doggo gave a single bark, trotting over with his tail whipping as if he’d remembered that they’d been introduced on Thursday night.

      ‘Hello, Doggo, I didn’t know you were still about.’ Lily stroked his smooth head and he put his ears back to enjoy the fuss. She glanced up at Isaac, his tie gone and collar undone, hair beginning to flop into his eyes. It was the first time she’d seen him anything but perfectly groomed but she liked the tousled look. It was as if he’d let his guard down and allowed end-of-a-long-day fatigue to show.

      Isaac smiled. ‘He’s living with me now. I’ve cleared it with Mr Tubb.’

      Lily straightened. ‘I assumed he was Hayley’s.’

      ‘If he’d been just Hayley’s his name would have been Rolex or Gucci,’ he said drily, then hesitated. ‘I’m sorry if you found the atmosphere strained on Thursday. Hayley and I used to be together. I felt defensive about the pub being deserted when she swanned in. She has a brilliant career as general manager of a casino.’ He smiled crookedly.

      Lily felt a burst of sympathy. ‘I can imagine how I’d have felt if it had been my ex because Bar Barcelona was always jumping.’

      Isaac’s expression relaxed. ‘Galling, isn’t it? It’s bad enough that she knows Mr Tubb and it was her who suggested me for this job.’

      Lily grinned. ‘Tubb might have shut when the pub emptied.’

      Isaac quirked a brow. ‘That would have been worse. I can only imagine how I’d have felt if she’d found this place shut early.’ He grimaced. ‘Anyway, she brought me Doggo, which is fantastic. I’m off on Monday and Tuesday so I’m looking forward to finding some long walks.’

      ‘Just stick to the footpaths when you’re crossing the Carlysle Estate because it’s private land.’ Lily pulled on her outdoor things and prepared to brave the cold weather. ‘See you tomorrow evening if I can move after having Sunday lunch with my parents.’

      ‘Enjoy it.’ He began to turn away, Doggo at his heels. ‘My dad’s not well so I try never to visit my folks at mealtimes because Mum’s his carer and has enough to do. Maybe