Page 6 of The Christmas Highland Lodge

My heart plummeted. Next stop was studying situations vacant.

Chapter Three

It was fitting that Halloween and Bonfire Night had just taken place, seeing as I’d been put through such a horrendous and shocking event, that had sent a rocket bursting through my life.

I had been bobbing along, happy in my work, bolstering the reputation of Christmas Crackers to take over the business. I had gained so much satisfaction from seeing customers eyes light up when they purchased something festive that captured their imagination or triggered a memory from a past Christmas.

I closed up Christmas Crackers as usual at six o’clock, switching off the lights and plunging the little shop into darkness.

Vivian had looked dreadful, so I insisted she head home. I told her I saw no point in both of us standing around in the shop, being miserable.

She had given me another fierce hug, which had threatened to make me burst into tears, and then vanished, citing that she had to speak to her estate agents about putting her house up for sale.

Now, I made my way along the cobbled main street of Craig Brae for the short walk towards Mum’s cottage, to tell her what had happened. I was dreading it.

It had been several months after Dad had passed away suddenly that things had taken even more of a surreal turn, when divorced Vivian had invited me into her office and informed me that she had met and fallen head over heels in love with Ridley Moore, an American tourist and owner of his own chain of golf accessory shops, who had been on holiday and visiting the area.

She said that me losing my dad so suddenly and her having gone through a nasty divorce had made her consider her life and she had therefore decided she would retire and snatch happiness with both hands. She would be moving to Santa Barbara with Ridley.

At first, I had difficulty comprehending what she was getting at. I started burbling that Christmas Crackers was doing well and why on earth would she consider packing it all in at this moment in time? It was crazy!

That was when she had beamed at me from under her big blow-dried blonde do and told me that yes, she was going to sell the business next year, but would I like to buy it from her?

I remember sinking down in the chair opposite hers, unable to say anything sensible for a few minutes.

I could afford to buy the business. Tragically, that was only because of the death of my father, but he had been very money savvy and had left both Mum and me well provided for.

I remembered sitting there, my heart clattering against my chest.

The tantalising prospect of being my own boss and running this gorgeous shop meant that I took the challenge of buying it head-on and thanked Vivian so much, I ended up almost breaking her hand when I shook it.

Now, it was as if my whole future and all the plans I had made had been ripped away from me. This Christmas was going to be another tough one.

My ex-boyfriend Kyle Foster, a Craig Brae landscape gardener, hadn’t understood or appreciated my love of the festive season. He was bemused by it when we first started dating three years ago. He became even more irritated when he moved into my flat and had to contend with my myriad decorations, including my singing Santa and Rudolph.

I received a discount from Christmas Crackers and made the most of it, much to Kyle’s disdain.

He was tall and willowy and would more often than not bang his head on a dangling snowflake or not look where he was going and accidentally stab himself on a holly wreath.

He would throw his arms about, swear and insist that Christmas would be a much more enjoyable affair ‘without the glitter and shit.’

Dad had referred to him as The Grinch.

Craig Brae was dipped in inky black night, its Victorian-style town centre thronged with old-fashioned lamps. The last thing I wanted Mum to do was worry but I knew that would be like telling a bird not to fly.

I arrived at Mum’s, a detached cottage in a little cul-de-sac just off the main throng of the town.

A whirlpool of dread swirled in my stomach.

Her amber lamps cast smudges against the closed curtains.

My attention fell on the front garden that Dad had always tended to. There were fresh breadcrumbs on the bird table. I could still see him there, breaking it up in his large hand and throwing it for the birds to hoover up. He always used to laugh when I said that it reminded me of Beast, feeding the birds breadcrumbs in Beauty and the Beast.

I huddled deeper into my belted coat and adjusted my sparkly beret. There was a stiff breeze coming down from the hills.

I raised one gloved hand and knocked on the glossy white door, with its stained-glass window. Well, this was it.

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