Page 41 of Christmas, Actually

‘You will,’ Stan said. ‘And we know you’re far too clever to live with regrets.’

Charlie spun in his chair, his attention sweeping from Clara to Liam, his small face bunched as he considered. ‘Kiss, Daddy,’ he said, puckering up before blowing one to him and then to Clara, surprising him.

Liam shook his head and stood rooted to the spot. It was one thing kissing Clara on an empty high street, or in the privacy of his sitting room, but quite another doing it in public. He saw her face drop as she registered his reluctance.

‘You don’t have to,’ she said rapidly. ‘It’s not actually a Christmas law.’ She gave him a big smile, but he already knew her expressions well enough to understand it wasn’t genuine. That she was slipping back into old ways; pretending, capitulating, trying to make everyone but herself feel okay.

‘Of course it is, haven’t you ever heard of the mistletoe police?’ he asked roughly striding across the room to where she was sitting before helping her up. He stared into her eyes, feeling his insides swirl, wondering how he’d got himself into this position.

He’d fallen for her – it was already too late. He cared what she thought, didn’t want to hurt her feelings, wanted to be with her all the time – and he didn’t know how to stop the rush of affection, the aching need. Wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to. He cupped her jaw and saw the edge of her mouth tip as she gazed up at him. He could see questions in her eyes, wasn’t sure he was ready to answer any of them yet.

He heard Charlie whisper, ‘Kiss,’ in a loud voice while Stan echoed something about his cake going stale.

Then he heard Doris murmur. ‘He will, he’s just taking his time. When you’re older, Charlie, you’ll understand not everything should be rushed – and Stan just eat the damn cake, no one’s stopping you.’

Then Liam touched his mouth to Clara’s, felt his insides spin as if they’d been caught in a whirlpool before his stomach seemed to crash to the floor and he knew in that moment he’d made a huge mistake. Knew he’d fallen so hard and deep that he might never recover.

That’s when Liam heard the sound of a phone buzzing, felt Clara flinch and pull away before she stared up into his face. ‘I’m sorry, that’s a message. I need to get it, Eleanor might need me…’

He nodded because he understood and approved of her need to check on her godmother – to ensure she was okay. So Liam watched as Clara pulled the phone from the pocket of her trousers and read the screen, saw her cheeks pale.

‘What is it?’

She pulled a face. ‘It’s Hudson,’ she said, her voice scratchy. ‘He’s just arrived at The Cosy Christmas Shop and he wants to talk.’

19

CLARA

Clara felt sick as she stood outside of The Cosy Christmas Shop before turning and waving goodbye to Liam, Figgy and Charlie. He hadn’t said much on the journey here – probably because Charlie was sitting in the back, but she guessed he had questions. Probably as many as her. She hadn’t heard from Hudson since she’d left a message ending their engagement – hadn’t really expected to hear anything since. As far as she was concerned, they’d both drawn a line under the relationship. It was over and that was that. So, why had he just travelled across the Atlantic to see her? Clara shook her head. She definitely wasn’t going to find that out standing here.

She sucked in a long breath and opened the door, taking comfort from the familiar tinkle of the bell and smell of pine trees and cranberries as she entered the shop.

Eleanor immediately came running from the back and widened her eyes as her budgie, Chirples, flew overhead and landed on the tree. ‘Thanks for getting here so quickly,’ Eleanor said, her voice tense. ‘Hudson’s up in the flat. I made him a coffee, but he didn’t want anything to eat. He hasn’t even got luggage with him.’ She frowned, her mouth pinching. She’d looked pale and unhappy since her run-in with Ezra at the committee meeting, but this had made her look even more stressed.

Clara began to head towards the back, her feet leaden. Then Eleanor put a hand on her arm and she stopped. ‘Be careful, Clara,’ she advised. ‘I know how you probably feel. He’s come all this way. But don’t let yourself fall into old patterns just because someone has finally decided to offer you a few scraps of affection.’ Her shoulders straightened and her eyes momentarily darted to the high street in the direction of the bookshop. ‘You deserve so much more. Please remember that. Don’t go chasing after someone who…’ She sucked in a breath. ‘Has no idea how wonderful you are. It’s better to be alone than with the wrong person.’

Clara tried to ignore the emotion balling in her throat. She didn’t want to be with Hudson, but didn’t want to face him either. She had no idea what he was going to say. Was he going to blame her for what had happened; make her feel like she was making a mistake? ‘I know.’ She blinked, feeling a heavy weight fill her chest. Then she took in a long breath and headed for the door. It was time to talk to her ex.

Clara found Hudson sitting on the long red sofa in Eleanor’s lounge. She’d called out as she’d walked up the stairs and through the hallway but he hadn’t responded, so it had taken her a few minutes to track him down. When she did find him, he was scrolling through his mobile and there was a half-empty mug sitting on the coffee table in front of him along with a plate of mince pies and brownies that he hadn’t touched.

‘Clara,’ he said, rising as soon as she walked in. She saw his eyes flicker momentarily over her jeans and his wide jaw tightened, but he didn’t comment. He’d never been keen on casual clothes, had felt they gave the wrong impression. Which was why he’d clearly travelled across the Atlantic in an Armani suit and starched blue shirt which barely showed a crease.

He looked just the same, handsome and unruffled. She’d expected to feel the old thump in her chest, for her heartbeat to accelerate and her body to show some sign that she was excited to see him. Instead, she felt numb.

‘Hudson.’ Clara stayed by the door and folded her arms.

‘I’m sorry,’ Hudson suddenly said, looking awkward.

Clara stared. ‘I’m not sure I’ve heard you say that before,’ she marvelled. She studied him. He didn’t look sick, but he did look pale. Pale enough to elicit a flicker of sympathy. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘No.’ He shook his head, his eyes glittering. ‘You should know I kissed Abigail, it wasn’t her that kissed me. I shouldn’t have lied or made you feel like it was your fault.’ His voice was uneven. ‘I was embarrassed about what I’d done and didn’t want to hurt you.’ He took a step forward, his shiny shoes flattening Eleanor’s red rug. He looked so out of place – far too slick and urbane. It was obvious he was uncomfortable out of his natural environment, which just highlighted how different they were because she loved it here.

‘I was stressed,’ he said, taking another step. ‘So worried about the business. I’m sure if you think about it, you’ll understand.’ He paused as if expecting her to agree and Clara found herself nodding. ‘You were busy, well, we all were but⁠—’

She started to speak and he held up a palm signalling that he wanted her to stay silent. Clara did as she was told, although a part of her hated herself. But her habits were ingrained. She might be changing, but it was easy to fall back into old patterns.

‘That’s not an excuse. I know what I did was wrong. I just…’ Hudson’s chest heaved and for the first time Clara thought she could see real emotion cross his face. She was momentarily lost for words. This wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Hudson was always so articulate. Maybe he really cared?