Page 3 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

‘I really appreciate it. I’ll stay out of your hair; I’ve got a client—’

‘You don’t have to “stay out of our hair”. You know as well as anyone that there’s enough room for several families. And we want to see you. Both of us. Besides, there’s a lot happening in the run-up to Christmas. The events committee are always looking for helping hands for whatever festivities we’re putting on.’

‘You’re part of the events committee now? Seriously?’ She gave Harry a sceptical look.

He shrugged. ‘It’s fun, getting involved.’

‘Fun? What happened to you?’

Harry laughed. ‘Sophie happened to me. But it’s … good. Mucking in with village stuff. I’m hardly reluctant about it at all.’

‘And the bookshop?’ She held her breath, because it had been adored and then resented by both of them. The family business, the place they’d lost their dad to after their mum died.

‘The bookshop is still closed,’ Harry said, and she wondered if she was inventing the wistfulness in his voice. ‘I don’t know if …’

‘No,’ Daisy said quietly, ‘I bet you don’t. But Christmas fetes, that sort of thing?’

‘It’s a real priority here now. The planning meeting’s soon.’

‘Excellent.’ Daisy turned up her collar as a gust of wind blew her sideways. ‘Let me know when it is so I can avoid it.’

‘You can’t hide in your room the entire time you’re here.’

‘I’m not hiding in my room now,’ she pointed out. ‘And I have a client in Norwich. He’s just bought a café and he wants to renovate it.’

‘Really?’

‘You think I’ve given up on work in the midst of my housing crisis? Not a chance.’

‘I’m just surprised you would grace provincial Norwich with your expertise.’

Daisy grinned. ‘It’s a London client from back in the day who wanted a quieter pace of life.’

‘Running a café isn’t a quiet pace of life,’ Harry said with a frown.

‘It will be quieter for Lars.’ And it would be good for her, having something to focus on while she was here. She had gone all over Europe with her interior design business, specializing in commercial properties, cafés and restaurants and hotels, though she had worked on some domestic projects too. Until two years ago, her biggest client had been a chain of boutique hotels in European cities, but that had fallen apart at the same time as the rest of her life.

She hadn’t spoken to Lars Travers for over fifteen years, so she’d been surprised when she’d seen his name in her inbox. Back in the day, he’d run a couple of bars in West London, and Daisy had helped Adele – her mentor at the time – to redesign them. She remembered him as tall and slender, with glossy dark hair and thick eyebrows, composed and unwavering about what he wanted. He had been a good client, receptive to ideas and ready with his own, but until his email arrived out of the blue, Daisy had completely forgotten about him.

He had been flattering, telling her how he had been admiring her online portfolio, that he hadn’t forgotten the work she and Adele had done all those years ago. He’d bought a commercial space in Norwich, and he was interested in her design expertise, wondered if her work was within his budget. She hadn’t taken a lot of time to think about his offer. Most of her projects had wound down until after Christmas, and she hadn’t been considering taking on more clients until the New Year.

But now she was in Norfolk, she needed to keep busy, and once upon a time she had known Norwich well. She was sure she could get a handle on all the ways it had changed, all the ways the café would need to fit into the buzzing city that was both cosmopolitan and historic.

‘Don’t work yourself into the ground, OK?’ Harry said. ‘Use this time to get in some relaxation, too. Explore the village. Mistingham’s great now. It’s thriving.’

‘Really?’ She couldn’t help being sceptical. To her, it was still the definition of a sleepy coastal hideout.

Harry stroked Felix’s ears, the goat content to stand and be petted, occasionally nibbling the grass or Harry’s shoelace. ‘Give it a chance. See what you think.’

‘Sure. I’ll make the most of it while I’m here.’

‘Great. Coming in for breakfast? I’m at risk of freezing my extremities off.’

‘My nose does feel a little bit icy,’ Daisy agreed, and they turned towards the manor. When she made the decision to come back here, she hadn’t considered that she might have to immerse herself in village life. Being at the manor was one thing, but it was different enough with Harry’s renovation that she’d been able to keep most of her emotions at bay.

But Mistingham was the sleepy seaside place she’d outgrown, and now Harry was telling her it was thriving? She wasn’t convinced. After all, he’d fully bought into the rural way of life, had become the rough-around-the-edges country gentleman he’d never wanted to be, and he seemed entirely content with his transformation.

But it wasn’t going to happen to her. However much Mistingham tried to woo her with its chocolate-box charms, Daisy was immune. She was not going to let herself get sucked in just because she was here for a few weeks. There wasn’t a hope in hell that Mistingham would work its way back into her heart.