Page 64 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

She, Mo and Pete – who joined them at the café – spent an hour going through the project plan. Daisy was so relieved they’d managed to convince her building manager, Mr Bertram – and his insurance company – that they should run the repairs.

‘I can’t thank you enough,’ Daisy said, putting her iPad away. She had a list of things to send over: paint colours, her choices for the fixtures and fittings that needed replacing after the first lot had been ruined. She could do all this standing on her head, and she was sure she’d feel excited about it, once she was back on the train. This was her home, after all. ‘You’re really saving my bacon.’

‘Happy as always,’ Pete said, ‘and I’m glad you’ve got family to stay with over Christmas.’

‘I’ve really fallen on my feet.’

Mo grinned. ‘It’s not been too torturous for you, then.’

Daisy hugged them both. ‘I’m surviving, just about.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ Pete pulled up the sleeves of his hoody. His forearms weren’t a patch on Avery’s, and he didn’t even have a toolbelt.

Daisy had planned it so she had a couple of hours before her train home. She found an Italian restaurant near Regent Street and treated herself to a carbonara and a glass of white wine, which she ate sitting on a stool at the window, watching Christmas shoppers. Some of them clutched bags and wove, head down, through the crowds, clearly on a mission, while others dawdled, taking in all the sights and sounds of festive, glittering London.

An afternoon tea bus went past, and Daisy wondered what it would be like to have afternoon tea on the top deck of a bus. Maybe they did a Christmas version, with cranberry scones and mini yule logs like the one she’d had at the hotel.

Fully fortified, she joined the throng, admiring window displays and strolling through the clothes shops, perusing the party outfits on display, the smart suits for men, the dresses, wide-legged trousers and shimmering tops for women. She imagined Avery in a slim-fitting navy suit and decided that, if he didn’t come to the ball, if she didn’t get to see him dressed up like that, then her Christmas would be ruined. She would do his treasure hunt five times over, in the pouring rain, if he promised to attend the ball in a suit.

That got her thinking about what she was going to wear. She hadn’t brought any dresses with her to Norfolk – she had planned on being gone before the festivities got going – but she had left her flat now, and the thought of going back there, forcing her way through the building site to pick up a dress, was not appealing.

She had rescued her mum’s quilt, but she couldn’t exactly wear that. And Hartley Country Apparel was lovely, but it didn’t do a great line in black tie. It wouldn’t hurt to look in some of the boutiques while she was here, to find a dress for the ball she was organizing.

She dipped in and out of shops, humming along to whichever festive soundtrack they’d chosen. She pored over black dresses with lace details, midnight blue with sparkles, gold chiffon.

Her colour scheme was silver, gold and pink, which contrasted with the greenery of the natural decorations, the tree and the mistletoe with its plump white berries. She was blonde, so gold would work on her, but she couldn’t help remembering Avery lifting her down from the loft ladder, how it had made her feel like a princess, and how much she’d enjoyed the sensation.

Could she go full-on Christmas Barbie? She tried to picture Avery’s appreciative expression, then remembered how Lars had looked at her when she’d arrived for their dinner. He wouldn’t go for pink, she was sure, but would Avery? It was empowering, having the attention of two men after the devastation of discovering that Stefan no longer desired her.

In the end, she chose a long-sleeved maxi dress in blush pink. It had a high neck, a blouson bodice and flowing, ethereal skirt, with silver sequins and beads in a vertical linear pattern. It was sophisticated as well as being feminine, and if she paired it with high heels and tied her hair up, she would look like a pink, festive knockout.

She stepped back onto Regent Street as the sun was fading, the amber sunset spectacular behind the buildings, the elaborate Christmas lights twinkling above her while the breaths of her fellow shoppers created little clouds in the cold air.

A van slunk past on the busy road, ‘Last Christmas’ blaring out of the open window, and a street vendor was selling caramelized almonds, the smell sweet and enticing. Daisy spotted a frosted white goat in a shop window, its tiny plastic horns draped in tinsel, the display advertising luxury bedding, of all things. She felt a wave of homesickness, not for her shell of a flat or the home she’d shared with Stefan, but for Mistingham: for her beautiful bedroom with its window looking out on the sea; for her brother and Sophie; for the dogs and Felix. For Avery.

Her train was due out of Liverpool Street at four-thirty, more expensive because it was inside rush hour, but it meant she could be back by half past seven and meet Avery at the pub. With her new dress in a luxurious cardboard bag, her mum’s quilt nestled down the side, and some new ideas for how to embellish Mistingham Manor for the ball in a note on her phone, Daisy headed for the nearest tube.

Chapter Twenty-one

Because she’d had a good day, and still had something to look forward to, her anticipation simmering under the surface since that morning, of course the train got delayed halfway back to Norwich. It was busy with tired commuters returning home, and with friends on their way back from a day of shopping. Daisy sipped her hot chocolate, the sweetness of the gingerbread syrup sliding into her bloodstream, and messaged Avery.

London train delayed by 15 mins. I’ll be at the pub as soon after 8 as I can. Daisy.

She dithered. Should she include her name? He’d know it was from her. Should she add a kiss? God. She was not this sort of person at all. She hit send, then put her phone on the tiny pull-down table and waited for it to light up. It was an hour before she got a reply, and by then her nerves were frayed. But he hadn’t had an accident or decided she wasn’t worth it.

Just finished on site. No worries. See you when I see you. Ax.

She envied his casual words, his obvious lack of stress. Unless he was feigning it and had spent the entire hour constructing those three short sentences, debating whether to put that kiss on the end. The thought amused her, made her feel better about her own dithering, and she settled back, staring out of the window even though, now it was dark, it was mostly just her blurred reflection.

When she finally made it to Mistingham, Harry was waiting to pick her up, the Land Rover idling and Clifton in the passenger seat.

‘Thanks so much,’ she said, putting her bag with the dress and quilt in the back.

‘Did you get everything done?’ he asked.

‘I did. Mo and Pete have made good progress with the repairs. I should be able to move back in just after Christmas.’

‘That’s good news, right?’