Page 22 of Christmas, Actually

Eleanor screwed up her nose. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start looking.’

‘How about—’ Clara started, about to suggest the bookshop owner, when the front of the shop burst open and a teenage boy came thundering in. He wasn’t wearing a coat, his clothes were covered with flakes of snow and he was red-faced and shaking.

‘Aunt Eleanor, I can’t live at home anymore!’ he declared, his voice trembling.

‘What’s happened, Danny?’ Eleanor asked, going to greet her nephew and giving him an enthusiastic hug, making Clara remember all the times she’d done the same to her. ‘Does my sister know you’re here?’ Eleanor glanced towards the door as if expecting Hazel to suddenly surge through it too. Clara thought about the harassed café owner. She wouldn’t be surprised.

‘No,’ Danny grumbled, pouting a little. ‘I had a row with Sam about this girl at school, Kiera, and Mum told me to grow up, so I left. She never takes my side… She’ll probably be happy that I’ve gone – without me there, it’ll just be her and Sam. She thinks I’m just like Dad, and she won’t talk to him at all now.’ He blinked and Clara realised there were tears forming in his eyes. She needed to make herself scarce.

‘Your mum has her reasons for not talking to your father,’ Eleanor said, her voice filled with empathy. ‘And I can assure you that you’re nothing like him.’ She draped a hand over the teen’s shoulder. He was taller than her, heading towards six feet with a lanky frame and a face that would be heart-stopping, once he grew into it. ‘Do you want to come up to the flat for a hot chocolate and a chat?’ Eleanor asked, her tone soothing. ‘Clara made gingerbread cookies which I’ve been saving for a moment just like this one.’ Her voice lowered. ‘You can tell me everything and we can hatch a plan. You can stay in the box room tonight if you like and I’ll give my sister a quick call so she doesn’t worry.’ Eleanor’s eyes shot to Clara and she grimaced. ‘Would you mind locking up the shop?’

‘Of course not.’ Clara waved at her. ‘I’ll finish unpacking these first and then…’ She glanced outside. It was snowing, but she could wrap herself up, give the two of them time to talk in privacy. ‘I’d like to take a walk so I can take in the Christmas lights,’ she said. ‘If you don’t mind?’

Eleanor gave her a look that told her she knew exactly what she was doing, and Danny nodded vigorously, indicating he definitely wanted alone time with his aunt. ‘Just don’t stay out too long,’ her godmother advised.

She patted her nephew on the shoulder. ‘Come on, let’s go eat – and don’t worry, Clara, we’ll save some cookies for you.’

It was still snowing when Clara made her way along Hollythorpe’s main high street and she pulled her red coat tighter. She was glad she’d worn gloves and a hat, but there was a howling wind coming from what was probably the North Pole and she could feel her cheeks burning as tiny icicles bit into them. But she kept her head straight so she could take in the twinkling lights and Christmas decorations that lined the high street, relishing the sparkles of colour they threw across the pavement.

She’d walked in the opposite direction to the way she’d gone with Liam on the night she’d first arrived. Past the Santa Paws Pet Shop and The Reading Room Bookshop where the lights were still on. Was Ezra busy checking the shelves to see if he could find any more of Eleanor’s pesky elves? Clara smiled imagining it, wondering how she could find a way to get the grumpy bookshop owner and her godmother to spend more time together.

The Mistletoe Magic Shop was in darkness and Clara peered in the old-fashioned panelled window. She saw a movement out of the corner of her eye and wondered if Bugs was running loose. Was he going to somehow pop up in Eleanor’s flat later? She hoped so. Being here in Hollythorpe was so magical.

She continued walking along the cobbled pavement, past a row of houses with small front gardens enclosed behind shiny black railings. Most had been filled with an array of colourful lights and ornaments. Lamps were on in each of the houses, and many had Christmas trees glowing through the front windows. Clara stopped for a moment, trying to imagine how it might feel to live inside one of them. To have a family who loved her, to have a partner she adored – one who felt the same about her.

It was the first time she’d allowed herself to consider moving back to England. To even think about living in Hollythorpe. If she did, perhaps in time, she’d find a place and a person who was perfect for her. Maybe then she’d feel like she finally belonged somewhere.

She’d have to go ahead with her plans and speak to Hudson later. It was clear from his lack of contact that their engagement was over. They’d been together for almost four years and until these last few weeks, she’d believed he truly loved her. Only, especially recently, it had been her making allowances, saying sorry and changing her plans to suit him. Never the other way around.

This was the first time their relationship had been properly put to the test. The first time he’d cheated on her, at least as far as she knew. And she’d wanted him to fight for her – but he’d as good as walked away. Choosing to get her mother to do his dirty work, believing, perhaps accurately at least until now, that Clara would relent to her.

Old patterns of behaviour were becoming so clear to her now, as if someone had drawn a map and she were studying the trails, finding all the ways she’d allowed herself to be manipulated over the years.

Was Hudson in their apartment back in New York now, waiting for her to appear again with her tail between her legs? Was he expecting her to apologise? He’d be waiting a long time because she wasn’t going to.

Her heart felt heavy as she spotted a soft glow from the village Christmas tree in the far distance. It was huge and she could see the lights swinging as the large ornaments – including a reindeer, Santa and elves – adorning it, wobbled in the cold wind. Eleanor had pointed out the display when Clara had first arrived and they’d driven past. She’d told her they’d sing carols around it on Christmas eve. Probably with Clara dressed as Mrs Christmas.

To her surprise, the idea of it no longer horrified her. Since arriving in Hollythorpe, she’d learned that being the centre of attention was actually okay. She felt accepted and didn’t constantly feel that she needed to change. Perhaps she’d finally found a place where she fitted in?

Would Liam be standing beside her while she sang, would he hold her hand again? The thought came from nowhere and Clara felt her heart stutter and then thump when she spotted a hunched figure standing beside the tree, looking up into the branches.

The figure had the same tall frame as Liam, the same wide shoulders. She thought she might have conjured him in her imagination, until she drew closer and spotted the golden dog by his side and recognised Figgy.

‘Liam?’ Clara asked as she drew closer still, ignoring the way her insides bounced and then settled as he turned and his dark eyes fixed on her and widened.

‘Clara?’ he croaked, taking a step closer before he came to a stop. He was wearing a long dark coat she hadn’t seen before and a dark bobble hat that somehow accentuated his beautiful brown eyes and the angular planes of his face. ‘What are you doing walking out here all by yourself?’ He glanced around as if confirming they were alone.

‘Getting some air,’ she said as she went up to join him. Figgy immediately made a beeline for her coat and pressed his nose into the soft fabric before letting out a low growling sound. ‘Don’t worry,’ Clara said as Liam tried to pull him away.

‘He’s somehow lost the toy Eleanor gave him, I searched for most of the afternoon.’ He winced as the dog pressed himself closer to Clara’s coat. ‘I’ve looked everywhere and it’s disappeared—’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve got another on order, but it’s out of stock so it’s going to take at least another week for it to arrive. Which means all the residents in the village are going to have to get used to being sniffed by my dog again.’ He sighed. ‘Including you.’

‘It’s honestly fine,’ Clara soothed, patting Figgy on the head. ‘It’s actually quite a compliment. I happen to like this coat, so he’s got great taste.’ She giggled when the dog trod on one of her boots as he attempted to get closer still.

They fell silent and Clara began to feel tongue-tied. She stared up into the tree, at the colourful, sparkling bulbs, trying to distract herself from the hum she could feel between them, the invisible pull twining itself around her heart.

She’d never reacted to anyone so viscerally and wasn’t sure why she was now. It could be purely down to Liam’s good looks, but Hudson was equally handsome and she’d never responded to him like this. Perhaps it was because Liam had shown her kindness when she’d most needed it and it was difficult not to respond to the way he treated others, even his dog. He’d been honest about his reaction to his wife suddenly appearing in the café, and Clara suspected that, unlike her fiancé, Liam wouldn’t know how to lie. There was a gentleness about him too – which was intensified by the bone-deep sadness she could feel radiating from his very core. She could sympathise with that, perhaps even relate to it. And most of all, she wanted to make it disappear.

‘I enjoyed today,’ she admitted huskily. ‘Seeing all those elderly couples together.’ It had shown her a whole different world. One with friends and laughter and relationships that endured.