Page 1 of Christmas, Actually

1

CLARA

Four weeks until Christmas

Clara Frost slowly pulled her denim wheely backpack through Heathrow’s Terminal 5 arrivals gate before stopping and heaving in a breath as she took in her festive surroundings. There were decorations everywhere, but her eyes caught on a huge white tree in the far distance covered in enormous, jagged red baubles that made her think of shattered hearts. Vibrant silver bows draped from the high ceilings, while glitter and sparkle were splayed across every surface, signalling to travellers that Christmas was on its way.

Above the chatter of the passengers surrounding her, Clara could hear joyful music playing in one of the nearby coffee shops informing them it was the most wonderful time of the year. She listened for a moment, hoping that in an alternate universe far, far away there was another, happier, Clara who’d agree.

She caught a whiff of coffee and she desperately needed caffeine so began to move with purpose. It had been a long flight from New York and she hadn’t slept for any of it, too devastated by what she’d caught her fiancé doing before she’d fled. The image of the two people with their lips and bodies locked kept playing over and over in her mind –accompanied by a musical voice asking her what she’d expected? Hadn’t she recently been worrying that Hudson was too good for her? Had she simply got what she deserved? Her heart thumped hard as she realised she’d left her engagement ring behind in her haste to leave and her finger felt bereft.

Her mobile buzzed in her pocket and she stopped again. She’d switched it on as soon as the plane had landed and she quickly tugged it from her pocket, her heart beating wildly, wondering if it was Hudson begging for her forgiveness or worriedly asking where she was. She was desperate to speak to him. It had been such a shock seeing him wrapped around someone else and she was reeling. She still couldn’t believe he’d do that to her. They had to talk so she could understand exactly what had happened. What she’d done wrong.

She checked the screen on her mobile and realised the message was from her mother, informing her that she’d signed her up to a dieting app and with ‘a little willpower’ Clara could lose at least a stone by the new year. Clara sighed, shoving the phone back into her pocket as she began to walk. Once her mum found out what had happened with Hudson, she’d probably sign her up for personal training, elocution lessons and a full makeover because it was the only way she thought Clara would win him back.

She winced as she imagined her fiancé’s reaction when he realised she’d disappeared. They were supposed to host an important investor party on the twenty-eighth of December, and he was going to want her there for that. But more importantly, surely he was going to realise he didn’t want to lose her? She bit her lip contemplating, before moving closer to the exit. Would he call and apologise soon?

There were people everywhere. So many people. Clara jumped as someone ducked in front of her and raced towards the exit, clearly intent on beating the throng. She studied the crowd of men, women and children waiting at the arrivals barrier. Many held glittering signs and balloons welcoming their loved ones. Some were already dressed in festive scarves and hats, despite it only being the start of December.

She knew there would be no one here waiting for her. She’d left New York in such a hurry that she hadn’t told a soul she was leaving. Her parents were on a six-week cruise in the Caribbean and were more likely to dish out blame for what had happened than give her any sympathy. Her two best friends were currently backpacking across Thailand, so she wasn’t going to bother either of them – and the only real friend she’d made in New York was probably still snogging her fiancé.

Which was why Clara had come to visit her godmother in her Christmas shop in the Cotswolds. She might not have communicated with her recently, but Eleanor Kringle was the only person she wanted to see. She needed a hefty dose of Christmas magic right now and her godmother was the one person who would deliver exactly that.

‘I’m over here!’ a woman’s voice suddenly rang from behind, making Clara’s insides jolt. Then someone sprinted past, dragging a red suitcase that could have held all of her wardrobe and some of her furniture too. Clara spun around and watched transfixed as a tall man broke from the horde and the woman dropped the suitcase and leapt into his arms, looping her legs around his hips before spraying kisses over his cheeks. Clara watched him laugh delightedly as he tried to kiss her back and they bumped teeth, then noses before erupting into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

Despite the heavy weight of anguish in the pit of her stomach, Clara found herself smiling wistfully. It was pretty awful finding out you were being cheated on this time of year – and harder still when the rest of the world seemed to be surrounded by the people they loved. But despite that, it was still wonderful seeing love in action. Seeing the way couples’ faces lit up when they were reunited with a person they adored. Watching kids holding welcome balloons and tinsel skipping across the shiny airport floor to hurl themselves at a family member or friend. Husbands, wives, aunties, uncles, grandads, nannas, sisters, brothers, friends and lovers, they were all here. And they were a reminder of all the people Clara didn’t have right now.

But this was her fantasy, pure Christmas magic in action, playing out in front of her like a movie that she never wanted to end.

It gave Clara’s fractured heart a mini bump of pleasure. A flicker of hope that perhaps in the corner of the world somewhere – maybe even back in New York – there might be a festive happily ever after waiting for her.

Surely once Hudson realised she’d left, he’d be calling to explain and then wing his way from the States to sweep her up into his arms and beg for forgiveness? Until then she’d have to force herself to stand firm.

For the first time in her life, Clara Frost knew she had to hold out for the kind of all-in love she wanted. She only hoped she wouldn’t have to wait for too long…

2

LIAM

Liam Armstrong ignored his phone buzzing in the pocket of his jeans and knocked on the blue front door as he hitched the toddler he was carrying further onto his shoulder, wincing at the weight. The boy seemed to get heavier every few days, which might be something to do with his current obsession with buttered toast. Charlie Armstrong let out a low moan and Liam froze, just as the front door opened and his neighbour, Jenny Musgrave, shrieked in delight.

‘Oh, the dear boy’s asleep,’ she whispered, her voice pantomime low, which meant it was loud enough to wake an actual log. ‘Give him to me, I haven’t had a cuddle in days.’ She clapped her hands and rubbed them together excitedly, her wrinkled face lighting up.

‘It’ll be much easier for both of us if we don’t wake him,’ Liam whispered, nodding towards the hallway of the house which he noticed she’d already decorated with tasteful white fairy lights. He didn’t even know if he owned any and made a mental note to look later, if he wasn’t too comatose from tiredness. God, he’d have to get a tree soon too. No way was Charlie going to let him get away with no decorations for another year – and he wouldn’t believe the dog had eaten them either, which is what Liam had told him last December.

‘Oh, I don’t mind if he wakes. I’ve made a batch of brownies just in case,’ Jenny said lightly. ‘Nothing like a dose of sugar to get the party started.’

Liam chuckled because he knew his neighbour was joking – at least he hoped she was. ‘Yes, well, maybe I should carry him in, that way we can put him straight to bed,’ he suggested. ‘He’s not really in the right mood today. Unless your party involves throwing plates.’

It had taken him almost an hour to get the grizzly toddler to settle. Despite Liam advising Jenny that it would be better if his son didn’t know about the sleepover, she’d insisted on telling him, too excited to keep it a secret. Then again, he knew at almost seventy his neighbour didn’t get out as much as she should, and babysitting for his son every Tuesday evening was the highlight of her week.

For a moment, Liam realised that aside from the joyful hours he spent with Charlie, he did nothing exciting in his life either. One of his customers had commented that he was getting boring yesterday and he’d dismissed it – but perhaps he was right?

‘I’m sorry.’ Jenny pressed a palm to her mouth, clearly trying to contain her enthusiasm. ‘It’s just – it’s the first time he’s stayed here, and I haven’t had anyone for a sleepover in the spare room for almost a year. Not unless you count my brother’s pet hamster, but he wasn’t much fun. No parties or plate throwing and he wouldn’t even eat the brownies I made.’ She looked disappointed.

Usually, Jenny babysat for Charlie in their house which was next door, but Jenny’s cousin was due to pay her a visit this evening and she’d wanted to stay in her own home. Since she was doing Liam a big favour, he wasn’t going to argue. But he knew he’d pay for it later in the shape of a sleepless night when he tried to transfer his son back to his own bed and Charlie insisted on sharing with him.

‘It’s fine,’ Liam whispered, glancing back at his house. He’d left the front door wide open – afraid that closing it might wake his son – and his dog Figgy was staring at them from the threshold looking baffled. ‘I won’t be long,’ he mouthed to the golden retriever, wondering if he was losing his mind when the dog’s ears seemed to prick up in understanding. Sometimes it felt like it.