Fiction Serial: Under The Middledip Mistletoe (Part 2)


Lady and man holding hands Illustrations throughout: Celine Wong www.artoflihua.com

WRITTEN BY BESTSELLING AUTHOR SUE MOORCROFT

Second and final part: How can Ella give in to her feelings about her old flame when he’s still married? If you missed Part 1, read it here now…

Middledip School buzzed in the run up to Christmas. Children were excited by the Nativity and the party, and over-enthusiastic at making lavishly glittery cards for mummies and daddies. Ella sometimes felt as if her entire classroom was covered in tiny silver specks.

This Monday morning though, Charlie Johnson’s gaze was wary and watchful, staring around the classroom as if wondering how he got there.

Conscious that he’d only been at the school a week, Ella crouched beside him.

“You’re dreamy today, Charlie.”

Charlie’s eyes, so like his dad Billy’s, fastened on her.

“My mummy’s coming to see me at Christmas.” He sounded as if he wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

Ella’s gave him a reassuring smile. “What a wonderful Christmas present.”

After a moment, Charlie responded with a big smile.


That night, she lay awake, Charlie’s uncertain little face in her mind’s eye.

Billy had described Charlie’s mum Francesca as ambitious but not maternal. Guiltily, her thoughts crept to Billy, to the fact that he still had the power to make her breathless by just coming into her classroom.

Billy and Francesca were only separated, not divorced. She had no business thinking of another woman’s husband. None at all. But on Thursday evening she happened across Billy chatting to Melanie behind the tinsel-edged counter of the village shop, and halted in her tracks, her heart giving an extra thrum.

“Oh… hi,” he murmured when he turned and saw her. The uncertainty in his gaze reminded her of Charlie.

She returned his greeting, thanking him when he stepped back to allow her to pay Melanie for a pack of gaily-coloured Christmas cards. Then she said goodnight and hurried back out into the evening. It had snowed on and off all day, stoking the excitement of the schoolchildren, and now a crunchy veil lay on the pavements. She almost slipped when she heard Billy calling after her.

“Ella?” He jogged to catch up, apparently sure-footed despite the conditions. “I’m glad to catch you out of school.” He cleared his throat as snowflakes drifted between them. “At the pub at the weekend… I put you in a situation. I realised that when you scurried off at the first opportunity. I don’t what I was thinking of. I’m the parent of one of your students! You obviously have to be careful.”

“Oh, but –” Ella began.

But Billy was obviously determined to get everything off his chest. “Charlie’s only in Reception and will be in the school for years. Teachers get accused of showing favouritism.”

“Didn’t Mrs Morrison explain?” Ella tried again, surprised at the way the conversation was going.

“I don’t need the headteacher to put me right,” he charged on grimly. “Sitting at the same table in the village pub soon morphs into being a date in some people’s minds and the next thing you know, tongues are wagging. I think my brain’s been rattled by the events of the past few months.” Snow was landing on his hair and melting, turning it darker. “It was just so good to see you again. You’re still the same wonderful person and I saw you sitting alone and just thought… Or I didn’t think. That was the trouble.”

Wonderful person? Good to see her again? Ella shook herself and tried to break in for the third time.

“Billy,” she said gently. Then she hesitated. Maybe he was doing the right thing, even if it was for the wrong reason. She remembered what her ex-husband Rob had said when he met someone new. Finally I know how it feels to be wholeheartedly committed…

Billy was in no position to be wholeheartedly anything. He ploughed on ruefully. “We’ll keep tripping up over each other. Sophia Morrison got me to agree to play Santa at both infants and junior school parties but I promise I’ll keep a proper distance.

Charlie’s my focus and he’s stopped saying he doesn’t want to go to school, so I’m grateful to you for that. I just hope seeing his mum at Christmas doesn’t unsettle him again.

And what about you? she wanted to ask. How will you feel when you see Francesca again…? Ella was not going to try and influence the answer to that question.

“You’re right, Charlie’s your priority,” she heard herself say, a chill tingling through her that was nothing to do with the snow. “I’m glad to see him making friends with Ruben and Jessica. Ruben’s imagination carries them into all kinds of games and Jessica’s such a live wire that she makes Charlie giggle.”

Charlie could definitely do with laughter in his life.

Disappointment crossed Billy’s face at her bright, professional tone but she couldn’t let herself reassure him. She glanced at her watch and said, “Goodnight, Billy. Thanks for being so understanding.”


Billy signed in at reception, glad to visit the school and share some Christmas excitement, to don a white beard and shove a cushion up a red robe to play Santa.

He was missing being part of a school. He usually spent most of the time Charlie was in his classroom applying for jobs online. He’d risen to deputy head at his last school, but he was happy to take a drop in status and salary and concentrate on teaching roles. His ambitious streak had waned. Francesca’s focus on her career had given him a vague distaste for it and the more responsible his job, the harder it was to be available for Charlie. Charlie was everything.

Man dressed as SantaAlmost everything, he thought as he was escorted to the infant school party a quarter of an hour later – now wearing an itchy white beard and musty red robe – and caught sight of Ella leading her excited children into the hall.

The children’s eyes were huge as they took in bowls of crisps and plates of chocolate fingers. Automatically, his gaze homed in on Charlie. A little girl with dark wiry curls and dancing brown eyes said something with a grin and Charlie gave a great guffaw of laughter. Billy relaxed.

By the time he’d given out ninety presents his throat was sore with ho-hoho-ing in a deep voice. He hadn’t wanted to spoil Christmas magic by telling Charlie he was playing Santa and though Charlie regarded him closely when he came to take his present, he’d turned away, apparently satisfied.

Present-giving over, and the hall full of children ripping wrapping off books or sets of pencils, Billy gathered his empty sack and was borne off to clamber thankfully out of the thick robe.

When he emerged in his normal clothes he found the head, Sophia, waiting for him.

“Thank you for your help, Billy! I hope you’re happy with the way Charlie’s beginning to settle in at the school. Ella Higham is such a lovely person.” She was obviously unaware of the fact that Billy still thought of her as Ella Thorpe. “We were lucky to get her to cover Janice Browning’s maternity leave,” she went on as she ushered him back towards reception, issuing an invitation he could scarcely concentrate on.

“Maternity leave?” he interrupted, mind racing. “Until when?”


The staff Christmas meal in The Three Fishes had been arranged for the evening of December the eighteenth, two days before the end of term.

Ella found herself seated between Maggie, Year One teacher, and Drew who took Year Six, pulling red crackers and wearing multi-coloured paper crowns, a Christmas tree shimmering in the corner.

Everyone was there, including the site supervisor Jamie and the teaching assistants. To her surprise, after a while Billy joined them, seating himself at a vacant spot at the end of the table.

Deliberately quieting her suddenly rapid pulse, Ella smiled politely when Sophia poured Billy a glass of wine and announced, “I invited Billy for a drink to thank him for his sterling Santa duty.”

“I earned it,” Billy said with a grin. “The costume’s unbearably hot and the beard disgustingly itchy.

As he joined in the laughter and chat, Ella found herself becoming quieter and quieter, disturbed to discover she was actually breathless just at being at the same table as him and conscious of his gaze constantly returning to rest on her.

Then singing began in the bar – not an off-key sing-song among villagers with glasses in their hands, but a beautiful, harmonic rendition of Let It Snow.

Sophia pushed her chair back. “I think that must be the village group, The Middletones. I’d heard they were back from their singing trip to Switzerland. Let’s go and listen.”

So they all moved out of the dining area, squeezing into the bar in their party hats to listen to the group running through “slowies” like White Christmas that had everyone swaying in their seats and humming along.

Somehow, Billy ended up next to Ella. Then, when the singing was over and the last glass of wine drunk, she found him still at her side as they stepped into a chilly evening, frost adding an extra twinkle to the snow.

“We’re obviously headed in the same direction,” he said and fell into step beside her. The instant they were out of earshot of the pub he halted.

Why didn’t you tell me you’re only a supply teacher at Middledip School? You won’t be Billy’s teacher after the end of term!

He sounded both cross and hurt.

“When we talked about issues with me being Charlie’s teacher, I did try to mention that I’m going to Hawthorn School in Peterborough as assistant head. But then the moment passed,” she returned calmly. “I was surprised to realise Sophia hadn’t told you. Maybe we each assumed the other would do it or maybe Charlie joining us earlier than planned muddled the usual procedures. Mrs Browning is an excellent teacher and I’m sure Charlie will love her.”

“Of course,” he muttered testily, following as she set off again, turning the corner into Ladies Lane, the last road of the “old village” before the Bankside Estate. “For Charlie’s sake I wish you were staying, but for my own sake –!” He halted, pulling her round to face him, gaze urgent. “If I asked you out, Ella, would you come? Being close to you again…!” He shook his head. “I’ve never stopped thinking about you. I want to see if we still have what we had before.”

His eyes burned down into hers. Ella felt as if the frost wasn’t just pinching the end of her nose but seeping into her heart.

She said gently, “I’m sorry, Billy, but no. You’re not divorced. I’d feel I was going behind Francesca’s back. Charlie’s full of her coming home for Christmas.” She blinked back tears.

Billy snorted. “Middledip was never Francesca’s home, as she’s been at pains to point out. She accepts my reasons for moving back here but she’ll be staying at a hotel. My parents’ house only has one spare room and Charlie and I are in it.” He spoke faster, despair in his voice. “Why did I do things as I did, all those years ago? I was smarting that the head of St Martin’s told me off like a naughty boy for seeing another member of staff. I saw a great job and just went for it.”

“Without discussing it with me,” she put in, remembering her hurt and dismay.

“That was wrong,” he agreed instantly. “But I was young and impulsive and I wanted it to be all part of the surprise.”

“Surprise?”

He nodded miserably. “I planned to tell you about the job and… well, and propose. Ask you to find a post in a school nearby. Start a life with me on the beautiful coast of Wales. But you cut me off with a stiff little speech about the end of the relationship coming faster than you’d thought and refused to listen.”

Ella was sure the sobs gathering in her throat were going to choke her.

“I’m sorry. We were different people then.” She paused, wishing she’d heard him out all those years ago – or that he’d come after her and made her listen.

But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re not free. Maybe when you see Francesca again and she sees Charlie, everything will change. You might even decide to try again for Charlie’s sake. Before anything could happen between us your situation has to be… clearer.

Without looking at him, she fumbled her way through the gate to her cottage and left him standing there with the snowfall glittering on the hedges.


Little boy dressed as a sheep Illustrations throughout: Celine Wong www.artoflihua.comThe last day of term was chaotic but Ella loved it, despite the heaviness in her chest. They performed their Nativity play again, just for her, and Charlie excelled as a sheep! She gave each child a Christmas tasselled bookmark with Reading is fun! emblazoned across it before she wished them Merry Christmas and waved them off. She was going to miss this class, but she’d be starting a new role in January and was looking forward to that too.

When all the children had left, clutching carrier bags full of their pictures and models, she sent her teaching assistant off early. She preferred to clear the room of decorations alone, leaving it swept bare for Janice Browning to reclaim after the Christmas break. She wanted to think. She’d met Billy’s eyes when he collected Charlie today and read disappointment in their brown depths that had triggered a fluttering, panicked guilt. Was her stand over the situation with Francesca right? She thought it was.

But the sorrow in Billy’s eyes…

The next day, Saturday, she awoke no happier. However, there was a Christmas Fayre on at the village hall in the afternoon and she’d agreed to help sell refreshments, the village hall committee being headed up by an energetic woman whose talent lay in roping people into things. Nobody could be completely glum when wearing reindeer antlers and handing out hot chocolate or lemonade.

She saw lots of children from school. Ruben and Jessica waved and giggled. Then, “Mrs Higham! Mrs Higham!”

Ella swung around to see Charlie Johnson towing a tall, tanned woman towards her. “I got ’nother present from Santa in the lucky dip,” he said breathlessly, proudly exhibiting a toy car.

“And this is my mummy,” he added.

Colour flooded Ella’s face. “What a lovely car,” she said mechanically. Then, to Charlie’s mother, “Hello. Nice to meet you. I’ve had the pleasure of having Charlie in my classroom for the past couple of weeks, but you probably know Mrs Browning will return from maternity leave in the New Year.”

Francesca regarded Ella keenly from beneath a long fringe, then turned to Charlie. “There’s Daddy over there, Charlie. Can you show him your car while I talk to Mrs Higham?”

Charlie turned and raced away. Heart thumping, Ella followed him with her gaze and saw Billy watching them, hands shoved in pockets, hair falling in his eyes.

Ella turned back to Francesca, more than half-expecting hostility and found Francesca’s frank gaze on her.

“Fascinating to finally meet you,” she murmured. “I’ve been aware of you throughout my marriage. Billy’s first love.”

Ella felt as if Francesca had slapped her. She gasped, mortified by the stinging blush that sprang to her cheeks, and began to stutter something that was a mixed apology and denial.

Francesca laughed. “Sorry, I gave you exactly the wrong impression there. Billy was never really mine and I was never really his – not heart-wise. We made a baby without meaning to. We stuck together for a while but in the end… I should tell you I’ve met someone else.”

She lowered her voice.

Billy’s a fantastic man. I want him to be very, very happy but I’m not the woman for the job.

Her voice returned to a normal level. “Thanks for helping Charlie make friends. He’ll be fine with his new teacher – and I’m pretty sure you’ll continue to be in his life.”

Ella stared after her as she walked away, then completed her stint on refreshments in a daze, hardly able to believe what had happened. Eventually, when she’d muddled up orders and given someone the wrong change, she took out her phone and texted Billy.

Perhaps we should talk.

His response pinged straight back.

Francesca has taken Charlie for a burger. I’m waiting outside.

She found another volunteer to hand over to and grabbed her coat.


It was nearly dark when she stepped out of the door. The coloured lights wreathing the hall glowed around her and a few strides away, the tall figure of a man was waiting.

Meeting his hopeful gaze, she had to swallow before she could speak.

“Do you know what Francesca said?”

“Roughly,” he answered huskily. “She told me she likes you.”

“I like her,” she admitted.

“So do I.” He took a step closer to grasp her hand. “But I don’t love her, Ella. I never did, not properly. I still love you.”

He hurried on in a low, urgent voice, “We can take things slowly. Just don’t let’s lose each other again. Francesca’s moved on. Charlie’s happy to see her but he understands she’ll be going back to Africa. You said we’re not the same people, Ella, but we are! Just more mature, more able to cope with real life instead of making stupid decisions and refusing to admit when we’re wrong.”

He stopped, his fingers gripping hers.

Do you think my situation is clearer now?

The whole day was holding its breath. Then joy flooded through Ella. She flung herself into his arms.

“It couldn’t be much clearer,” she choked, burying her face against his neck.

He held her very tightly, murmuring, “Not sure what happened to taking it slowly but I’m all for this.”

Ella laughed breathlessly as she held her face up for his kiss. “Then let’s not waste any more time. I think this is going to be the best Christmas ever.”

Because never again would she have to stop thinking of Billy Johnson with his rumpled hair and soulful brown eyes.


Missed Part 1 of this serial? Read it here

We’ve picked out some of our favourite Christmas fiction serials from the archive to share with you. Also enjoy A Truly Magical Christmas, a 4-part, warm-hearted Christmas tale.