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“A true tragedy,” she deadpans, pushing the door open.
My chest warms comfortably at the familiar sight, my heart settling in its cage as my eyes drag over the wide hallway, coated in a golden glow from the chandelier.
The coat hooks to my right are overloaded with big coats, jackets, and macs—enough to cover every resident of the cottage over the next three weeks—and the shoe rack is piled high with a collection of different styles, from boots to trainers and all manner of fluffy slippers. A conifer sits at the end, tucked between the doors that lead to the kitchen and lounge, decorated to perfection in green, red, and gold.
The other doors on this level, spaced on the walls to either side of us, house up to ten residents, while the staircase to the left leads to the second floor, where the remaining rooms and bathrooms are tucked away.
“I missed this place,” I tell Bailey, as she nudges me into a bar stool at the kitchen island. “I forgot how homey it feels.”
“No, I know. I’m devastated this might be the last year.”
“What? What do you mean?” I ask, my smile dimming at the frown marring her face.
“Didn’t I tell you? I thought I mentioned it when I came down the other week…” I shake my head at her question, my frown deepening. “Oh, bugger. Well, Mr. Dorsett was talking to Dad and said he’s selling up. Says he’s too old to keep up with this place, and since his wife passed and they never had kids, he’s got no one to leave it to.”
“So this is our last year?”
Bailey shrugs and turns to the fridge to grab a bottle of wine. “Seems that way. There’s a company interested, but they want to turn the land into a ski resort, apparently. ‘Revolutionise the Highlands’or some bullshit like that.”
“That’s so sad.”
“Isn’t it? He offered it to Dad, but with Nana Joyce’s health and care costs these days, he and Mum can’t swing it. Fingers crossed some nice little independent buyer wants a slice of heaven in their pocket and buys it.”
“Fingers crossed.” With a sigh, I take the filled glass from her outstretched hand and clink the rim to hers before downing half in one.
While I’ve only been coming here for the last ten years, Bailey’s family have been doing seasons here for much longer than that. Every year without fail since she was a baby, they’ve spent almost all of December hiding from reality in this cottage. I’m grateful they took pity on me and welcomed me into their little Christmas bubble.
As soon as I turned eighteen, my mum decided she was done doing her bit of parenting and fucked off to Spain with her boyfriend at the time—ex-boyfriend now, though that hardly matters since she’s onto Spanish boyfriend number seven—and my dad has been nonexistent in my life since birth basically, so if it weren’t for the Brooks, I’d have been completely alone. And, after spending last Christmas in my cramped flat, tucked into my couch eating kebab, I can’t say I ever want to do it again.
“Where is everyone, anyway?” I ask, changing the topic before the threatening melancholy can settle around us. “It’s way too quiet here. That worries me.”
Bailey chuckles, her eyes sparkling with humour as she lifts her gaze to mine. “Eli and Daisy went to the supermarket to get supplies for Saturday, before the rain picks up.” I smile at the mention of her siblings. “And Mum and Dad aren’t coming until next week. Nana Joyce just moved into that new home, so they want to be around to make sure she settles. Though I also think they just don’t want to be around for the cleanup after this weekend.”
She laughs, her eyes alight at mention of her thirtieth celebrations this weekend. While we’re keeping it simple with only a few friends coming, bad things tend to happen in this cottage when alcohol is involved. Speaking of… “And Chase?” I ask, keeping my tone light despite the swirling anticipation I feel at the mention of his name.
“No idea. But you know what he’s like. He’ll show up when he wants.” She shrugs, and I try to ignore the flutters in my stomach. Chase and I are just friends. Good friends. Friends who—“Hopefully in a much better mood than last year.” Bailey shakes her head, snapping me back to the conversation, and I raise a brow in question. “God, he was an asshole the whole time. So fucking grumpy, but nobody could figure out why, and he wasn’t telling us shit.”
Bailey steers the conversation along, and I let her, trying to stay in the present despite my mind threatening to drift a thousand miles away … or back in time two years, to be precise. Chase being grumpy last year had nothing to do with me or what happened the year before, surely?
The sound of a door slamming pulls me from my reverie, and I down the remnants of my wine, push away from the island, and follow the swell of voices coming from the porch.
“Ryan Parker, as I live and breathe,” Eli says, leaning against the bonnet of his Ford Focus. His ashy blond hair is slicked back with a light gel, keeping the strands from falling under his black-rimmed glasses. He wears a grey chunky cable-knit jumper and dark denim jeans paired with grey Timberlands. “After you skipped out on last year, I figured you might have had enough of doing Christmas with us.”
“Never.” Rushing down the steps, I throw myself into his waiting arms. He folds me against his chest, squeezing tight as he places a kiss on the crown of my head.
“Missed you, kiddo.”
“I missed you too,” I say, patting his stomach. As the oldest Brooks sibling, Eli adopted me as a little sister when I came into their life. I smile at Daisy as she pops her head from the boot, where she’s scrabbling with bags. “Where’s your better half and her little mini-me?”
“Sar’s stuck at work until next week, so she wanted Grace to stay with her mum and dad before Christmas. I was going to stick around, but you know my wife—she sent me away and made me promise to have some fun.”
“You know she just wanted to starfish the bed, right?” I nudge his shoulder, chuckling softly, before helping him grab some bags from the boot. “Also, the moment I get my hands on Gracey, you aren’t getting her back.”
“I don’t blame you. She’s the best part of me. But you know, you’re getting on now. Maybe it’s yours and Bailey’s time to settle down and have some mini-mes.”
“Ha. You’ll be waiting a long time for that to happen.”
He hums, a smug smirk tipping his lips. “I guess we’ll see…”
