Chapter 6
CLARA
I saw you kissing Abigail Penny. Clara
Clara stared at the words she’d typed on her mobile as she lay in the double bed in the spare room of her godmother’s cosy flat. She’d been toying with the idea of sending the message for two hours. She’d even contemplated adding a kiss – had keyed in a couple before deleting them.
She’d put ‘Clara Frost, your fiancée’, before deleting that too because it felt passive aggressive.
But when your intended sent you a text that read, Where the hell are you?
Are you in a mood? Hudson Astor, when you’d left the country more than twenty-four hours ago, after catching him kissing the HR director of his company – who also happened to be your only friend in New York – it was difficult not to be annoyed.
Or feel like your heart had been snipped up and discarded like an old credit card.
Clara put the mobile back onto the oak bedside table without sending the message and stroked a hand over the double duvet, which featured Father Christmas’s grinning face, and looked around the room.
It was comfortable, with a large oak wardrobe and a matching sideboard which would be roomy enough to take all the clothes in her case three times over.
The bathroom was on the opposite side of the hallway outside.
Eleanor had an en-suite so had declared the one opposite Clara’s for as long as she stayed.
They hadn’t talked in detail after the meeting.
Clara had been too tired. She’d told her godmother that she’d caught Hudson kissing someone in the office and needed time away to process, time apart from her fiancé to give him a chance to realise what he’d done, but hadn’t elaborated.
Eleanor’s gentle acceptance that she simply wanted somewhere to escape to without having to answer numerous questions – or justify her decision to leave – was exactly what she’d needed.
Clara had practically been asleep on her feet when they’d arrived at the shop and could barely take in anything as Eleanor gave her a tour before leading her to the flat above.
Although Clara did get a lingering sense of glitter, sparkle and twinkling fairy lights in every imaginable colour and size.
Had there been a bird and a rabbit too? She might have been hallucinating.
Her godmother had offered her drinks and food, which she’d refused, before handing Clara a snuggly white bath towel and pointing her in the direction of the bed.
Clara could barely remember anything after that. Until she’d woken at six am, her head resting on a pillow that felt like a fluffy cloud and had sat bolt upright. That’s when she’d seen the text message from Hudson.
She heard a sound in the hallway and guessed Eleanor was up. Her godmother had always been an early riser.
Clara’s stomach grumbled and she pushed back the covers and shifted, pressing her bare toes into the cosy, oatmeal-coloured carpet before sliding one foot onto the soft snowman rug that had been placed between the bed and window.
Eleanor adored Christmas – unlike Clara’s parents who hated everything about it – and it looked like she’d gone to town on her home. It felt like a warm, festive hug.
A few minutes later, Clara found her godmother in the kitchen gulping down a mug of coffee.
She was dressed in a bright red dress which hugged her curvy frame and trailed over her hips in voluptuous velvet waves.
She had a gold badge pinned to the dress with ‘Eleanor Kringle, Owner and Head Elf’ printed across it.
She grabbed a mug that was shaped like a Christmas tree from one of the cupboards and silently filled it from a cafetiere she had on the go before handing the drink to Clara.
‘Here, sip this. I need to get down to the shop – I had a delivery yesterday afternoon and didn’t manage to unpack any of it.
There’s a mountain of baubles I need to find a home for.
’ Eleanor smiled, scouring Clara’s face, her large blue eyes intense.
‘You look better already. Much more like your old self. Why don’t you shower and have some breakfast and then you can join me downstairs?
I can tell you what you need to know about being Mrs Christmas, and after that, if you want to talk more, I’m all ears. If you don’t, that’s fine too.’
She let that hang between them and paced across the kitchen – which featured bright red cabinets and shiny countertops in white quartz – before opening the fridge.
‘Help yourself to whatever you fancy. There’s a Christmas trifle in there I made which contains all of your favourite food groups.
Unless that’s changed.’ She grinned. ‘No judgement, we could all do with more trifle in our lives – and you definitely look like you could use a little sugar today.’ Her tone was serious but kind and Clara felt her eyes fill because it had been a long time since someone had wrapped her up in so much warmth.
She hadn’t realised how much she’d needed it.
‘See you in a minute, darling. I need to go now as I’ve got something to drop off at the bookshop before I start work,’ Eleanor added before giving Clara a quick kiss on the cheek and grabbing what looked like a gangly elf-on-the-shelf toy with long stripy legs and huge ears from the counter.
‘Who’s that for?’ Clara asked.
Eleanor winked. ‘Someone who could do with a bit of Christmas magic.’ Then she headed towards the door.
Clara stood sipping her coffee after she heard the door shut. She looked around slowly – there were a monumental number of kitchen appliances spread across the surfaces. Hudson hated clutter and Clara could almost hear him complaining from New York.
She stroked a fingertip over a glittering snowman utensil holder which contained a multitude of festive implements before opening the fridge.
Her eyes immediately shot to the trifle and her tastebuds activated as she studied the fluffy cream sprayed with multicoloured sprinkles.
It was an unconventional breakfast, but she’d barely eaten yesterday – too churned up.
Besides, she was tired and her heart ached and Eleanor was probably right: sugar would give her a much-needed pick-me-up.
She had a lot to do today, starting with showering and finding out what Mrs Christmas was going to be getting up to for the next four weeks.
And while she was at it, she’d have to ensure that she didn’t let her mind wander to the man who’d be playing her husband.
She was already picturing his wide smile and those brown eyes that reminded her of chocolate fondue – delicious, decadent and oh-so-wrong.
She licked her lips and her skin prickled, like someone had just stroked feathers over it.
It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, but it was unsettling.
Especially since her brain should be focused elsewhere.
She deliberately dragged her mind back to Hudson – her fiancé – although she wasn’t sure she wanted to think about him either. But she had to send that text.
The shower was hot and powerful. Clara stood beneath the hot spray as she lathered herself in Christmas pudding shower gel, courtesy of Eleanor who’d left a ton of guest toiletries in the bathroom.
She felt a little better already. Her belly was full of trifle, and she was going to smell delicious.
She’d brushed her teeth, and in a minute, she’d be joining her godmother downstairs.
She’d decided to send her original text to Hudson before getting in the shower.
Would he have answered by the time she got out and got dressed?
Perhaps he’d been waiting by the phone with bated breath, wondering where she was? She could hope, and be patient.
She switched off the water and grabbed a towel just as she heard banging coming from somewhere in the hall.
Confused, Clara carefully stepped out of the cubicle and went to press her ear to the door.
Someone was definitely bashing something loudly and they weren’t far away.
Surely if Eleanor had arranged for a person to be in the flat, she’d have mentioned it?
She grabbed the fluffy white towel from over the bath and quickly dried and wrapped herself up. The towel wasn’t huge, but it covered everything important. She wasn’t far from her bedroom – she could make a quick dash for it, dress, grab her phone and a weapon before going to explore.
There was another thud and Clara paused and glanced around wondering if she should wait it out.
She shook her head. This wasn’t New York, it was Hollythorpe in the Cotswolds: she didn’t need to be afraid.
She took in a deep breath and on impulse grabbed the snowman toilet roll holder which had a long black pole poking from its head, then she unlocked and opened the door.
‘Ouch!’ she exclaimed as she took one step and tripped over a large, furry object and went flying onto her front as the holder spun from her hand.
She could feel something cold and wet nuzzling her back, and as she righted herself, she came face to face with a grinning dog who seemed to be inordinately interested in her towel.
‘Figgy?’ she spluttered.
‘Oh, no! I’m so sorry, are you okay?’ Liam said as he came racing along the hallway and dragged the dog away.
‘I didn’t know you were here,’ he said, his eyes widening as Clara gathered up the front of the towel and sat making sure everything important was covered up.
‘I came in the back door, I didn’t go via the shop.
I thought you’d be down there with Eleanor.
’ His face was flushed and he looked horrified, but his eyes still dropped to her bare legs before he clearly realised and shifted them back up to her face.
Clara ignored the tingles as they rocketed across her skin.