Chapter 7
CLARA
‘What do you mean Mrs Christmas has to sing?’ Clara regarded her godmother with horror as the older woman carefully hung another bauble from her recent delivery onto the large Christmas tree that had been erected in the centre of her festive shop.
The store was a joyful ode to Christmas, a series of interconnected, crooked rooms – some small, some large – that teemed with sparkly ornaments and glimmering lights, from the subtle to the garish.
There were wobbly figures dancing to popular festive songs, tinsel, cards, crackers and even a whole section of small gifts.
There had been a steady stream of customers popping in and out of the store in the half hour that Clara had been helping her godmother – proving that the locals were as obsessed with Christmas as she was.
‘It’s just one song – and you’ll be asking everyone else to join in,’ Eleanor soothed as she straightened up and gave Clara a questioning look. ‘You used to love singing. You have a gorgeous voice.’
‘Back when I was ten,’ Clara said softly. ‘And I think you’re the only person who’s ever complimented me on it. I don’t even sing in the shower now.’
She had once, but her mother had told her the noise gave her a headache.
When she’d tried again in Hudson’s penthouse flat after moving in, he’d put his sound system on so loud that the neighbours had complained.
It had been an audible suggestion that she shouldn’t do it again and Clara had taken the hint.
It wasn’t like Hudson had been trying to hurt her feelings; it was more of a subtle message that her voice wasn’t great.
Clara knew she was good at a lot of things, but singing wasn’t one of them and she was fine with that.
‘What about Liam, does he have to sing?’ She folded her arms, getting ready to argue about the fairness of having to make a fool of herself while he got to watch.
‘Of course he does! You sing together. It’s going to be charming,’ Eleanor said, hanging another bauble onto the overladen tree. This one was blue with silver sparkles. ‘He’s got a lovely voice too.’
Of course he bloody did. Clara sighed. He was almost too perfect to be real. She had no idea why she found that so irritating; perhaps it was because she’d never got within a mile of perfection and he now made her feel like more of a failure than she already was.
‘I’ve got your costume in the stock room.
Joe Abbot from the magic shop went to pick it up from Tabitha’s mum this morning.
Tabitha is the one on jury service,’ she explained in case Clara didn’t remember their conversation at the meeting.
‘We might need to use a couple of safety pins.’ She eyed Clara’s waist critically.
‘But overall, I think it’s going to work.
Then we need to take some photos. Believe it or not, Ebenezer – that’s my special name for him –’ She chuckled. ‘– has offered to do that.’
‘Is there something going on with you and the bookshop owner?’ Clara asked, picking up one of the baubles and hanging it onto a branch.
‘It’s just he’s really cute and there seemed to be some kind of…
’ She jiggled her fingers. ‘Tension between you.’ She couldn’t explain it better than that.
She hadn’t seen her godmother for so long, suddenly she wanted to catch up on everything that was happening in her life.
‘Of course not!’ Eleanor’s cheeks pinked.
‘He might be handsome, but he’s far too young.
Only a couple of years older than me. You know I prefer mature men.
I clearly have a thing for emotional baggage.
’ She looked embarrassed. Clara knew her godmother usually wouldn’t consider dating anyone who wasn’t at least a decade her senior, but there was something about the stiffness in her shoulders that made her wonder if she was considering making an exception to that rule.
‘Besides, he’s grumpy and way too critical.
’ She flapped her hands over her skirts looking flustered.
‘He hates Christmas and the man could seriously do with lightening up.’ Her eyes flashed wickedly.
‘In the seven months he’s been living in Hollythorpe, I’ve been trying to find ways to do just that. ’
Clara was about to ask more when something stroked against her foot and she shrieked. ‘What’s that?’
Eleanor leaned down and picked up a large white rabbit.
‘This is Bugs. He belongs to Joe – he used to work with him when he was a magician, apparently. He often pops up in the shop.’ She looked around and shook her head.
‘I’ve no idea how he gets in, but he’s good friends with Chirples, my budgie.
You’ll see him flying around at some point. ’
She smiled at Bugs. ‘I’ll take you back to Joe later.’ She snuggled her face into the rabbit’s soft fur before putting him on the ground, then she watched as Bugs shot across the room and disappeared into one of the smaller ones on their right.
‘Do you want to try your Mrs Christmas outfit on?’ Eleanor asked, glancing around. ‘It’s not that busy and I can keep an eye out for customers from the back room.’
She didn’t wait for Clara to respond – instead, she hopped and skipped through three of the rooms before guiding her into a small office.
Clara could see the dress, which had been hung on a hook in the wall, from the entrance.
It was red and velvet, similar to Eleanor’s own clothing.
There was a beautiful red cape with a draping hat edged in pure white fur. It was beautiful.
‘How about you try it on?’ Eleanor said.
‘I’ll pop back into the shop to give you some privacy.
Ezra AKA Ebeneezer will be here with his camera in about—’ She checked her watch and her eyes widened.
‘Five minutes. He takes all the pictures for the community events, he’s really quite talented…
’ She drifted off frowning. ‘Liam won’t be far behind.
He was going to pop home to change after replacing the socket in my bedroom. I doubt he’ll be long.’
She spun around and disappeared, leaving Clara to put on the costume.
She looked at it for a moment wondering exactly how her life had taken such an odd turn.
A couple of days ago, she’d been hard at work at her desk, had barely even noticed Christmas was on its way.
Now she was here, about to play Mrs Christmas with a man who set her pulse racing while her fiancé…
As if it had read her thoughts, her mobile suddenly pinged in her pocket and Clara drew it out.
Okay, fine, you’re right. The truth is Abigail kissed me, and I was fighting her off. I didn’t want to tell you because she’s your friend and I knew you’d overreact. Are you going to come back now? I need you here to finish organising the party. H
‘The party is organised,’ Clara muttered before gazing at the screen for a good thirty seconds.
Then she put the phone back in her pocket.
She had a tendency to forgive and forget, to gloss over and say things were okay even when they weren’t.
She needed to give herself time to digest what Hudson had told her.
Time to consider and decide if he was telling the truth.
It’s not like he’d attempted to call her and the only thing he really seemed to care about was the party.
In some ways, the texts felt cowardly, like he was hiding behind words.
She felt guilty for thinking that about her fiancé, but a call would feel more honest – especially since Hudson was in the wrong.
And why, now she was away from New York, was she suddenly thinking her fiancé had faults?
She heard the jingle of bells which signalled that someone had walked into the shop, then the sound of a bark and guessed that Liam and Figgy had just arrived. She felt her heart leap into her throat and quickly made her way across the storeroom so she could change.
‘You look perfect!’ Eleanor declared a few minutes later as she came to search for Clara as she finished zipping the dress.
It was the right length and almost the right size.
‘We’ll pin it here and here.’ Her godmother said, gently taking up a handful of material and securing it in place with safety pins.
‘Hazel is a whizz with a sewing machine, so I might see if she can take it in properly later.’
‘If I keep eating trifle for breakfast, she won’t need to,’ Clara said dryly, wondering if her godmother had a set of scales somewhere in her flat.
She’d have to register on the app her mother had signed her up to later or she’d be in trouble.
Her mother prided herself on being a perfect size eight and expected Clara to feel the same way.
The fact that she wasn’t obsessed with her weight regularly caused problems between them.
‘You’re gorgeous, love. You always have been,’ Eleanor said as she finished pinning the waist and stepped in front of her so she could look Clara in the eye.
‘Sometimes people—’ She squeezed her lips together as if trying to hold in her words.
‘I’m not sure how to say this kindly. But sometimes people can be far too critical of others.
It’s important that you learn to look beyond other people’s opinions.
’ Her forehead creased. ‘To understand and accept that what you think matters. You’re perfect –’ She shrugged.
‘– just as you are. But I know I can say that until I’m blue in the face and you still won’t believe me.
’ The corners of her mouth edged down. ‘It’s what you think that matters – what you believe.
But it’s Christmas.’ She perked up. ‘Which is a time for re-evaluating, actually. Perhaps it’s the perfect time for you to finally realise what a gorgeous treasure you are? ’
The bell at the front of the shop went off again and she glanced over her shoulder. ‘That’ll be Ebenezer now – we’d better get those photos and then I thought you and Liam could practise your song…’
‘I really don’t think—’ Clara said as she turned to follow, but her godmother was already gone.
Clara stood staring, feeling her insides twist. Her whole life felt like it had been tossed in the air.
Suddenly she wasn’t sure she wanted to be engaged to Hudson, and she was questioning her mother’s constant implications that she wasn’t enough.
Suddenly she was thinking about what her life could be like if she made a change.
The only problem was, she wasn’t sure what that change should be…