Page 1 of The Cotswold Christmas Bookshop

1

‘Oh darling, it’s so lovely to have you home! And to think we’ll have you for a full six weeks over Christmas. It’s the best present we could have asked for, isn’t it, Oscar?’

Diana Stewart stood on tiptoes to place the fairy on top of the Christmas tree, before taking a step backwards to admire her handiwork. The English Pointer, lying legs akimbo on the corner sofa, raised a doleful eye at the sound of his name.

‘You’re early with the decorations, Mum.’

Isla Stewart wondered if she hadn’t made the biggest mistake of her life. After receiving the devastating news about her job and discovering a leak pouring through the kitchen ceiling at her rented flat on the very same day, Isla had decided, on something of whim, that she needed to get out of London. The time had come to reassess, to gather herself, to work out what she was going to do next. It had seemed like the best idea. Now, back in the family fold, she wondered what on earth had possessed her. Six whole weeks! Was it too late to invent a fake invitation for the holiday season from a ‘friend’ in London and disappear back to her shared, slightly damp flat in Highbury to spend Christmas tucked away in her room with a roast turkey ready meal from Marks & Spencer, a selection of cheeses and a tub of Quality Street? In that moment, with her mum gushing around her, this plan held a certain appeal, but she would never get away with it. She hadn’t spent a Christmas away from the family home yet and if that day should ever come, she would need a jolly good excuse and to give her mum plenty of notice so that Diana could mentally prepare herself.

‘Oh, I know.’ Diana leaped forward and swapped the position of two almost identical red baubles, her eyes narrowing as she appraised the new effect, before shaking her head and quickly returning them to their original spots. ‘There was a time when we would put them up the weekend before the big day, but now I like to get into the festive spirit early. I mean, can it ever be too early? Just the sight of the twinkling lights is enough to lift anyone’s spirits, don’t you think? Besides, I have the book club coming round tomorrow for the last meeting of the year, so I want the place to look special.’ She graced Isla with a wide smile. ‘They’ll be thrilled to see you.’

Isla groaned inwardly while somehow managing to match her mother’s smile. She wasn’t up to facing the book-group ladies, lovely though they were. They would pepper her with questions about her super job in publishing, her swanky flat in London, and if there might be any romantic prospects on the horizon. She would have to lie to them on all three counts, because telling them the truth would only result in a sea of sympathetic expressions and she wasn’t certain she was up to facing their disappointment.

‘That’s a shame, Mum. I’ve got plans tomorrow.’

‘Really?’ Diana looked askance, her newly Botoxed brow managing the smallest of frowns. ‘I’m sure the ladies would have loved to chat to you about the latest trends in publishing and what we should all be reading next year. Maybe we can do it some other time? What are you up to then?’

‘I’m meeting up with Jess, an old school friend, in town.’ It was the best Isla could come up with on the spur of the moment. There had been a girl called Jess, someone she had hung around with in Year 9, before they’d drifted off into their different friendship groups. Hopefully, her mum might vaguely remember the name.

‘Fair enough,’ Diana said, delving into a carrier bag filled with tinsel, her attention distracted as she pulled out glittering strands of gold and silver, draping them around her body suggestively as she gave a throaty rendition of ‘Santa Baby!’

‘Mum! Would you stop it, please?’ said Isla, unable to stop herself from laughing.

Diana was enjoying the moment, but Isla breathed a sigh of relief when she returned to the job in hand and adorned picture frames with the tinsel instead, securing them with sprigs of holly, clearly pleased with her efforts.

‘Ahh, thank goodness, Christmas has been delivered. At last!’ Hugo Stewart wandered into the large open-plan living room, opening his arms wide as he looked all around him, a bemused expression on his face. ‘And in November, as well. There’s nothing like being prepared.’

‘It’s very nearly December, darling!’ Diana admonished her husband. ‘Doesn’t it look beautiful!’

There was no denying that. Their four-bedroom, honey-stoned detached cottage in the Cotswold village of Upper Leaping was full of olde-worlde appeal, with stone mullioned windows, oak beams and an inglenook fireplace. Diana’s eye for design and her natural flair in using muted fabrics to highlight the wood fittings and stone floors gave the house a contemporary, light and airy feel that was inviting at any time of year. During the holiday season, with the tasteful decorations and garlands, its beauty was transformed into another level of charm.

‘Hey, Dad!’

‘Sweetheart!’ They shared a conspiratorial grin, before Hugo added, ‘I’m delighted that you’re home, Isla, but honestly, publishing is obviously the business to be in, if they can afford to give you so much time off over the festive season.’ She clocked the slight lift of her dad’s eyebrow, the unasked question, but she deftly brushed it aside.

‘Well, I had some holiday due, and December is normally fairly quiet, so I thought why not come home early. It seems like ages since I was last here.’

In some ways, it was as though she’d never been away. Isla ran her hand over Oscar’s smooth rump, eliciting a sleepy but grateful wag of his tail. To be home, in the house where she grew up, brought a whole raft of emotions bubbling to the surface. There was the relief at being able to fully relax, to curl up on the sofa and pretend that the outside world didn’t exist, knowing that she could spend the next few weeks being looked after. But there was something else too: a gnawing claustrophobia. A sense that if she gave in to the comforts around Mulberry Close, and the full-on attentions of her mother, then she might never escape the village again.

There was something about coming home that made Isla revert to her teenage self. She could turn her back on adulting and the responsibility of looking after herself, which even at the age of twenty-seven, she hadn’t really got the hang of. Despite her best intentions to buy healthy food and cook ahead in preparation for her busy working week, more often than not, she ended up with a hastily grabbed meal from the supermarket, or worse still, a takeaway.

Perhaps next year would be different. She sighed inwardly, the fleeting thought quickly followed by a sense of dread lodging in her chest. Of course, next year would be different; that decision had already been made for her. Only right now, she didn’t want to contemplate what it might mean for her everyday life. She had so many thoughts and feelings flooding her brain, but she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to make sense of any of them.

It was Christmas. Well, almost. And she was going to make the most of the most magical time of the year. Now wasn’t the moment to dwell on her uncertain future. That could wait until after the celebrations.

2

A crisp, fresh morning in the Cotswolds and Isla was pleased to be on home territory. There was a lightness in her step as she headed down the hill, along the familiar pavements of Bramlingham High Street, which was only a twenty-minute drive from the village of Upper Leaping. A beautiful market town in the heart of the Cotswolds, Bramlingham was set against the backdrop of ancient buildings housing an array of welcoming shops and cafés, providing a magnet for locals and tourists alike. Isla felt only the slightest pang of guilt at telling her parents the white lie about meeting a friend, but she had to buy herself some time, still trying to decompress from her life in London.

Besides, it gave her the perfect excuse to spend the day mooching and browsing. She hadn’t made a start on her Christmas shopping yet, so it would be a good opportunity to gather some ideas, leaving her mum behind to entertain her book-club friends. No doubt Diana had plenty of other social occasions lined up at Mulberry Close over the Christmas period that Isla simply wouldn’t be able to avoid.

She took a deep breath. The air was much cleaner here, and prickled at her cheeks, invigorating her whole being. After a day in London, she would return from work to find that the dirt and grime of the city air had embedded itself beneath her nails and under her skin. She would wipe away the remains of her make-up, examining the cotton-wool pads with disgust, seeing the sooty blackness, and discarding them with distaste in the bin.

There were definite benefits to returning to the country and she was going to embrace each and every one of them, conveniently forgetting the fact that, six years earlier, she hadn’t been able to get away fast enough. Straight out of university, she was eager to start her career and there was only one thing she had ever wanted to do and that was to work in publishing. Her love of books had started early, when she was still a toddler, her parents often reminding her that she was always to be found with a board book clutched between her little fingers and would plonk herself down on the floor to turn the pages avidly. That was still her happy place today. Whenever she wanted to escape, she would pick up a book, find a quiet corner and delve into the peaceful sanctuary of another world.

Fortunately, armed with a degree in English Literature and some relevant work experience, she’d been able to secure an administrative position, against some fierce competition, with one of the big publishing firms. The salary had been low and the hours long, but none of that mattered because she was doing what she’d always wanted to do. Finding a grotty flat in South London, along with five strangers – it was the only place she could afford and even then, her dad still had to sub her each month so that she could pay her rent and bills – had all been part of her grand plan.

Over the following years, she’d worked hard to prove herself, learning as much as she could about the industry, volunteering for everything going, and making close alliances, and friendships with her colleagues. It had served her well, as she had quickly risen through the ranks, taking on a variety of roles, until she reached the heady heights of publishing director for their new digital romance imprint.