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What would Elizabeth have said if she’d known her daughter was coming to visit?
Robyn gave a shiver and turned back toward the lodge.
Elizabeth wouldn’t have been happy. And if she could have stopped it she would have done so. She wouldn’t have wanted her sister to contaminate her daughter’s perfect life.
2
CHRISTY
“Living the dream, Christy, living the dream.” Christy stuck a bucket under the leak in the downstairs bathroom and glanced at the spreading stain on the ceiling in despair. Sometimes it felt as if she was living in a sieve, not a cottage.
How was she going to tell Seb about this latest crisis?
“If one more thing goes wrong with this place...”
Maybe she’d wait a few days before mentioning it. Or she could get it fixed without telling him. She still had a small amount of savings left from her mother’s estate.
She slumped against the wall and snuggled deeper into her thick sweater.
Christmas was usually her favorite time of year. Warmth, coziness, the smell of the tree and festive baking. Tradition and togetherness. She’d thought the cottage would enhance those feelings. Instead it was promising to kill them.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She’d wanted to create the perfect home for her family. She’d imagined pets, sunshine, apple orchards, fields of daisies, dreamy Christmases and a cottage so loved it was almost another family member.
She stared gloomily at the damp, feeling betrayed. If this house was a family member she should be talking to lawyers. She’d had a plan for the day—twenty-two items, neatly laid out in her notebook in priority order, ready to be crossed through. Oh, how she loved that part. So far she hadn’t put a line through a single one. The cottage refused to co-operate.
When she’d first laid eyes on the place, on a sunny day in June, it had been love at first sight. She’d told herself that if only they could live here she’d never complain about anything again.
Be careful what you wish for.
This was all her fault.
The cottage had been outside their budget, and Seb had been resistant to the idea of stretching themselves financially, but she’d persuaded him that they could make it work. That a few sacrifices would be nothing compared to the benefits. They’d spend Sundays exploring the leafy lanes and open fields. Holly could go to the village school and have friends back to play in the pretty garden. She’d be part of the local community. Maybe they’d even buy a puppy.
Turned out there was enough local wildlife already living in the place, without adding to it, and as for the local community—
Her phone buzzed and she checked the number and groaned. Her finger hovered.
Reject the call...reject the call...
Good manners prevailed.
“Alison! How lovely to hear from you.” She flinched as another drop of icy water hit her head. “Yes, I know I promised to call, but—Will I be at the village book group this week?”
Say no, Christy. Say that you loathe the books they choose, feel patronized by the people, and can’t bear to spend another evening sitting in that drafty church hall.
“Yes. I’ll be there. Looking forward to it.” Each lie eroded her self-esteem a little more. But she had to live in this place. The locals were already suspicious of her. If she upset the village matriarch maybe the local store would refuse to sell her bread and milk. “Food? Yes, you can rely on me for a quiche... Vegetarian? No problem.”
She ended the call and closed her eyes.
“You are pathetic, Christy. Pathetic.”
She had a feeling that the only way she was ever going to extricate herself from the torture of the local book group and the crushing boredom of the village fundraising committee was to move house. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea.
If the headlines were to be believed, everyone wanted to move from the city to the country. If they put it up for sale in spring or summer people would fall in love with the idea of living in this fairytale cottage—as she had. They wouldn’t discover the truth until they were standing in the cottage with the key in their hands.
A shout came from the kitchen. “Mummy!”
“Coming!” Christy pointed a finger at the ceiling. “Stay. If you fall in this close to Christmas, that’s it. I’m leaving you.”
