Chapter 1
WINTERbrUCK, SWITZERLAND
Earl trudged from the front door of his chalet, the traditional wooden house in the Swiss Alps, to the mailbox at the end of the path.
He made sure to be extra careful, because at eighty-four it was a big deal to fall over – there was always the chance he wouldn’t get up again, and he wasn’t about to miss out on Christmas.
It was always the most wonderful time of the year, and here in Winterbruck, on the first day of December, they’d had so much snow that the entire town was covered and looked nothing short of magnificent.
He checked the Milchkasten – the bottom compartment of the mailbox, which got its name from the box milkmen delivered milk to years ago – but there were no parcels today.
He unlocked the top section and pulled out a single letter, smiling with delight when he recognised the handwriting.
This was from Sarah, their darling granddaughter.
She’d been sending them letters since she first learned how to write, and even though she was twenty now she’d kept the habit going.
He swore his heart grew bigger every time one of her letters made its way from England to the Swiss Alps.
Back inside the chalet, he hung up his coat before taking the letter into the living room.
The comforting sweet smell of the cinnamon rolls that Astrid was baking in the kitchen wafted pleasantly in the air – she’d be on her third batch by now, all ready to package up and deliver to the neighbours, as his wife loved to do every December.
Astrid had had a rough time of it over the last year or so, with investigations for heart trouble, and the doctors were still monitoring her regularly to make sure the medications were doing their job.
She was at her happiest in the kitchen and he felt comforted and reassured when he could hear her humming away or talking to herself.
He sat in the armchair with the snow-dusted window on one side and their Christmas tree on the other.
They’d lived in Winterbruck for over thirty years and no matter what the Swiss did when it came to Christmas, he and his wife had kept some of the traditions they’d had in their native England.
Usually, it was the lady of the house who was more into Christmas and made the rules, but not for Earl.
He was the one who tended to initiate getting everything ready and got impatient to start the preparations.
Having the tree up in time for the calendar to flip to December was something he’d been firm on for years, ever since he’d left the army.
He’d spent too many Christmases away from his family, or in a house that wasn’t their real home, so he wanted to well and truly make up for lost time.
The fire was roaring in the grate as he opened up the letter, which started in its usual way, with Sarah using the affectionate name of Grumps to address him.
She’d called him that since she was a little girl.
He blamed Astrid, who had told him he was a grump once and Sarah, having only just started to talk, picked up on it.
Chrissie, Earl and Astrid’s youngest daughter and Sarah’s mother had done her utmost to convince Sarah that he was Gramps not Grumps, but Sarah refused to listen.
And now… Well, it wouldn’t feel right if she called him anything else.
Dear Grumps and Nanna,
Hello from a grey and very cold Oxfordshire.
I can’t believe it’s already the end of November.
I haven’t got an advent calendar for this year and already I’m kind of regretting it.
It’s such a treat to have a little piece of chocolate every morning with my first mug of tea before I have to go out to work.
Have either of you got one? Or has Auntie Meg sent you one of her novelty boxes of chocolates from her shop like she did last year?
He thought about his eldest daughter, Meg, head chocolatier at a renowned chocolaterie, in London no less, working hard all year round and rarely coming up for air.
He and Astrid had been to see the shop for themselves quite a few years ago now, and had been so proud of Meg, although even then she’d been rushed off her feet.
In fact, the job was why they didn’t see much of Meg, or at least that’s what he told himself.
She’d come over when Astrid had had her first turn and the heart investigations started, but since then she hadn’t mentioned coming again.
They hadn’t received a chocolate gift this year either which was odd.
This time last year and the year before she’d sent them a beautifully presented package, inside which were novelty Father Christmas figures, snowmen, angels and robins, in a variety of chocolate flavours – milk, dark, some with peppermint, others with sea salt.
Earl and Astrid had enjoyed a couple of chocolates every evening, comforted in the knowledge that their eldest daughter was thinking of them at Advent even if she couldn’t be with them very often.
He carried on reading Sarah’s letter…
Work has been really busy. We’ve just finished the job with the renovated house two streets away – the walls are teal. I know, Grumps, that you would love to paint one of the walls in your sitting room the same colour. So I’m going to back you up and we can perhaps convince Nanna together.
He chuckled. Good luck with that, Sarah.
Astrid was a force of nature; Meg had the same strong head on her shoulders.
And if Astrid didn’t like dark colours in their lounge – she’d found it all the more preposterous that he and Sarah had talked about only painting one wall – then the walls would stay the same.
He turned over the single sheet to read what was on the other side.
This is a very quick letter, and I will follow it up with a phone call, but I’m writing to ask you both something. And I really hope you’ll say yes.
Would I be able to come and stay for a while?
I know I’m getting married on New Year’s Eve, which isn’t too far away, but as you can’t be there I thought it would be really special if I came to visit you for Christmas. A break between now and the wedding would be lovely, and where better to take a holiday than Winterbruck?
I know it’s a big ask but I would love to see you both. And I haven’t had a Christmas in the Swiss Alps since I was twelve. I’ve really missed it and both of you.
Earl felt his spirits lift. Sarah was coming here? Well, that would be wonderful. It was the best Christmas present of all, and he couldn’t wait to tell Astrid.
But then sadness washed over him. Sarah was right – she hadn’t had a Christmas in the Swiss Alps for a very long time, not since the Christmas eight years ago when she came here with Chrissie.
Anthony was due to join them for a family Christmas but while they were here, they’d received the devastating news that his son-in-law had been killed in a mid-air collision in the aircraft he was flying for the RAF.
Chrissie had been widowed at age forty and Sarah had lost her dad at the age of twelve.
Ever since then Chrissie hadn’t wanted to come to Winterbruck at Christmastime. It was the most beautiful season of all, but to Chrissie it would always remind her of the day her family was ripped apart at the seams.
After Chrissie stopped coming for Christmas and Meg got busier at the chocolaterie, slowly Earl and Astrid had got used to it being just the two of them for the festive season, but oh how he would love to have his granddaughter here, in this sitting room, smiling and joking with him and talking late into the evening.
Her letter continued.
Christmas plans for this year are already proving to be tricky – Rhys asked me to spend Christmas with his family, and Mum wanted me to spend it with her. I have no idea what to do, but I think I’ll tell them both no and that what I would really like is to come and see you two.
I will call you once I’m sure this letter is there, so have a think about it. I really hope I can see you soon.
Love, Sarah x
P.S. – are all the decorations up yet?
Earl finished the letter. He didn’t have to think about it, of course – it was a definite yes to a visit from their granddaughter.
But he was confused. He’d thought Sarah was happy, engaged to be married, and settled.
But if that was the case, why do her own thing this year with regards to Christmas?
Even if it was complicated, surely she wouldn’t want to be apart from her fiancé? And so close to the wedding?
He wondered whether Chrissie had any idea yet about Sarah’s request and her plans.
Earl registered talking coming from the kitchen – the sort of talking that couldn’t possibly be Astrid giving herself instructions as she baked, the way she usually did – and was about to go and see who she was speaking to when his wife emerged into the hallway.
Apron on, phone at her ear, she came towards him but was saying her goodbyes to whoever was on the line.
‘Who was that?’ he asked.
‘Meg.’
‘She didn’t want to speak to me?’ She usually did, even if not for long. She’d always been a talker, just like her mum, and using that voice of hers had sometimes got her into trouble. One time in particular.
‘She had to rush off,’ said Astrid. ‘I guess that’s November at a chocolaterie when the world is getting ready for Christmas. She sends her love though.’
Meg’s partner, Grant, owned The Cocoa Cupboard where Meg was the lead chocolatier.
It was a successful chocolaterie, but even though Grant owned it, Meg was the superstar in Earl’s eyes.
He liked to think of his headstrong daughter doing something she loved, after all her waiting and hard work to do so.
He’d enjoyed his time in the army, apart from the effect it had on his family, and he’d followed his career until his late forties when the time came to make a change, the best thing for everyone.
The fact that Meg had found something she had a passion for was a good thing.
She sounded like an absolute powerhouse when it came to The Cocoa Cupboard, where she got to dream up new varieties and flavours all the time, and when she wasn’t doing that, she was interacting with customers or helping to manage and lead the staff.
Earl often wondered whether part of her management scope was managing Grant, the man she’d chosen to be with, but a man Earl had never been sure about.
Although unmarried, Meg and Grant were living together.
Earl had learned to accept Meg’s decisions over time, but despite his efforts he was pretty sure he hadn’t been able to hide the way he felt about her choice of partner.
Earl and Grant had clashed the one and only time they’d met, and not because Grant had done anything in particular, just that he was shifty-looking and never made eye contact.
Whatever it was about him, Earl had always had a bad feeling when it came to the man.
Since that visit, Meg had always come to Switzerland on her own.
And on the few occasions he and Astrid had been over to England, Grant had always been mysteriously busy.
Astrid wore a red gingham apron – luckily, as she had plenty of dust and spillages down it – and her rosy cheeks highlighted her ice-blue eyes and the smile that didn’t look any different at eighty-two to the girl he’d asked to dance when she was only twenty years old.
The phone still in her hand, Astrid announced, ‘Meg wants to come and stay.’
‘In the New Year?’
‘No. That’s the thing… she says she’s coming in a few days. Until after Christmas.’
Earl’s eyes lit up, his heart soared. But then he frowned.
Something wasn’t right. Meg’s business was always hectic at this time of year, then on Boxing Day she would go into sale mode, then there would be a brief respite before Valentine’s Day, Easter, and so on and so on.
‘She never comes for Christmas,’ he said.
‘She can never take much time off work.’ The mayhem had kept her away from Christmas in the Swiss Alps for too many years.
Astrid shrugged, put the phone down on its cradle, and tightened the belt on her apron. ‘It’s odd. But I’m not asking questions. It’ll be lovely to have her here.’ They shared a look that told Earl she’d missed the Christmases they’d had family around them as much as he did.
Earl picked up the letter he hadn’t told Astrid about yet. ‘This came today.’
She beamed when she spotted the name at the end of the letter. ‘It’s from Sarah. I’ll wash my hands and read it properly.’
‘She wants to come here.’
‘When?’
He pulled a face that suggested she hazard a guess.
Her brow rose. ‘She wants to come now?’
‘Not just that, she wants to stay for Christmas too.’ He slumped down in the armchair. ‘I don’t know what’s going on. With Sarah or Meg.’
‘I must admit, it does seem a little odd. For both of them.’
‘A little?’ He puffed out his cheeks. ‘Sarah didn’t mention Rhys in her letter, apart from the reference to his family Christmas, and she usually chats about him when she writes. Plus she hasn’t said what Chrissie thinks to her plan either, which means Chrissie might not have any idea.’
‘Yet,’ said Astrid.
He was still worrying about his granddaughter.
Sarah would be taking time off work for her wedding and honeymoon – surely coming here now would mean she’d have to take unpaid leave from her position at Velvet Edge, the all-female decorating business that was always inundated with jobs.
And she wouldn’t be doing that unless something was really wrong.
‘Let’s try not to worry,’ Astrid said. She was always calm in a storm, his true north, the one who kept his feet on the ground. He wasn’t sure how he would’ve handled the sort of work he’d been involved with in the army if he hadn’t had her to come home to whenever he was able.
He shook his head. ‘We’ve wanted a house full for years and never got it.’ He usually made Christmas what he could with all the lights, the decorations, anything that would make it feel jam-packed full of family and festive cheer when really the family weren’t together at all.
‘Well, this year it looks like we’ll have Meg and Sarah,’ said Astrid with a fondness in her eyes that made him want to reach out and comfort her. Because with that fondness came the pain of the rift that had formed between their darling daughters.
They locked gazes as Earl said, ‘You know what this means, don’t you?’
She nodded and sighed. ‘It means we won’t need to go into the town for the fireworks this year, because we’ll be having our own display right here at the chalet.’ She covered his hand when he put it on her shoulder.
Chrissie hadn’t come to Winterbruck for Christmas since she lost her husband. Sarah didn’t know her Auntie Meg, and worse, Meg and Chrissie hadn’t spoken a word to each other in more than eight years.
But if Meg was heading this way, and so was Sarah, then there was no chance of Chrissie staying away for long.