by Sandy Barker
Susan raised her brows again, this time her eyes glinting with humour, and Chloe responded with a grin.
“But all of that is superficial. There are dozens, hundreds of handsome actors in the world. Alan is … he’s special. He has a big heart, and I know that Cecily has worried about him over the years, with how many times that heart has been broken. She’s a tough nut to crack, is our Cecily, but I’ll come back to that later. What’s important is that Alan showed up here as soon as he made that discovery, even though it was on Christmas morning, and that tells you everything you need to know about him.”
Chloe nodded slowly, her own brows knitting together. “At least that’s how I see it,” added Susan before taking another sip of her bubbles.
Chloe had been going back and forth on the “Archer-paparazzi” matter for most of the day. Did she really want to get involved with the world’s biggest film star? Yes, he seemed to appreciate her warped sense of humour. And yes, that kiss had been something else. But having her life splashed all over the tabloids … And not just premieres and awards shows, but regular, everyday life … But, then again, everything Susan had said about him was true. Even though it had only been a few days, Chloe knew that Archer was special. She’d seen it.
“And I dare say,” said Susan, interrupting her thoughts, “that you are one of the few people to have brought a smile to Cecily Tate’s face in years.”
“Really?” Chloe asked, lifting her gaze to Susan’s. If that had happened, Chloe hadn’t seen it.
“Oh yes. I caught her raving about you to Simon, you know, from the committee.” Chloe did know Simon, yes—he of the impossibly sour expression.
“Well, that’s very nice to hear, especially as Cecily really impressed me. She’s as good as any pro I’ve worked with in Melbourne. Actually, she’s better than many of them.”
“Well, I think she’s taken a shine to you.” She paused. “And I was very proud of you, too, you know.” Chloe was shocked by how much those words meant to her and, truly humbled, she smiled. “Especially, how you and Alan helped with Mrs Capel. It’s worrisome, that she wanders off sometimes.”
“Oh, yes, it must be. And I didn’t do much …” Susan’s look indicated that she thought otherwise. “I was just happy to help. And Archer told me all about the Capels on the way to collect her. Such an extraordinary couple.”
“They are. Actually, I don’t think I mentioned it, but we’re taking them their Christmas lunch before we sit down.”
“Oh, that’s …” Chloe was speechless and felt the sting of tears.
“We’ve done it every year for some time now—the whole village. This year just happens to be our turn. Mrs Capel—Eloise—you see, she’s not up to the task, and their only son lives in Australia with his wife and daughter, so the village … we’re their surrogate family, as you saw yesterday.”
Chloe nodded, biting her tongue about the expectation that it would be Mrs Capel’s responsibility to make Christmas lunch. Things were certainly different in that little English village than they were back home. “In any case, we’ll make up some dishes for them—the full lunch and some pudding—and drop them ’round right after the Queen’s speech. I was thinking you might like to come with me?”
“I’d love to. That would be amazing.” Chloe had a thought—Archer will want to come with us—but it gave her pause. Was she ready to see him again so soon? Regardless, this wasn’t about her and she knew what she had to do. “Actually, would you mind if I asked Archer to come? I think it would mean a lot to him, especially after yesterday.”
“Not at all. How about you telephone the Tates when we finish our drinks.”
“Thanks, I will,” she said, feeling a twinge of nerves. She wanted—no, needed—to talk about something else. “Susan, I meant to ask you, did Lucy mention anything else when you spoke to her?”
“You mean about the young man, Will?” Chloe nodded. “She was somewhat coy, but I know my daughter and there seemed to be more talk of Will than the rest of the family put together. He’s Jules’s brother, correct?”
“Yes. And that might be another reason she wasn’t quite herself.” Chloe would not mention the third reason, Lucy’s hangover. “Jules was kind of a bitch to her about it when it came up.”
“About Lucy and Will? But why?”
“It’s unclear. But she really shut Lucy down. It’s a bit rich, really, because I think something’s going on between her and one of my friends in Melbourne.”
Susan’s look was a mix of perplexity and anger. She pursed her lips. “Well, that would explain it, I suppose, Lucy not being her usual bright self.”
“Look, I’ll talk to Jules. I think Lucy really likes Will. And I can’t remember the last time she really liked someone.”
“She was going out with that Edward for a while, last year, remember?”
“Oh, right. Him.” Chloe had never met Edward, but she’d seen photos of him on Facebook—nothing special—and she’d heard the stories from Lucy—again, nothing special. Just a normal boring guy, who for some reason thought he was too good for her—for beautiful, brilliant, lovely Lucy—and had dumped her during her work party. The dick. Chloe had hated him from across the globe.
“Exactly. It does strike me, sometimes, that Lucy has absolutely no idea.”
Chloe laughed, glad she’d just swallowed her mouthful of bubbles. “Do you mean about men in general, or that she’s an absolute goddess?”
“Both, really. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times we tell her how proud of her we are, or how clever she is, even how beautiful, it never seems to sink in. Is she the same with you girls?”
“Yeah. And there’s nothing put on about it, you know? She’s not, like, pretending to be humble; she just is. I think that’s part of her appeal. There are a lot of good-looking people out there who think they’re all that and a bag of chips and treat people like crap. I see a lot of that in my job.”
“Well, do let me know about this Will fellow … if she lets on any more than you already know.”
“For sure.”
“Shall we toast her, our Lucy? I miss her terribly today.”
Chloe held her glass aloft. “To our Lucy, the goddess who hasn’t got a clue.”
Susan smiled wistfully and they clinked glasses.
*
The Queen’s speech was actually quite moving, even though the Queen was as stoic as ever and completely dry-eyed. But it was her message about unity and humanity that resonated with Chloe, and yes, maybe it was the half-bottle of bubbles, but listening attentively, she felt a wave of overwhelming love for her fellow humans—especially the ones sitting with her in the front room.
At the sound of a knock at 3:27pm, Chloe jumped out of her chair, throwing, “I’ll get it,” over her shoulder. For the second time in a few days, she opened the door to the world’s biggest film star. This time, however, it wasn’t a giant shock.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello.”
“Happy Christmas again.” He smiled shyly and she waved him inside.
“Happy Christmas,” she replied. Wonderful, she thought, we’ve gone from casual and easy to completely frigging awkward and weird.
“I brought this for the Capels.” Archer retrieved a bottle of red wine from the carry bag slung over his shoulder.
“That’s so lovely.”
“Thank you again for inviting me to come with you. I was a little surprised to hear from you so soon after, well, you know.” He seems a little nervous, thought Chloe.
“No, of course you should come with us. There’s no question,” she reassured.
A smile broke out across his face. “Actually, Chloe,” he lowered his voice, “when we get back from theirs, I’ve something I want to ask you about. Something else, I mean. It’s not the mess with the papp—”
“Hello, Alan love,” said Susan, appearing behind Chloe.
“Hello again, Mrs Browning.” He replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “And
Happy Christmas. Again.”
“Happy Christmas, love. Right, we’re all set, I think. Just come through here.” Susan led them into the kitchen. “I’ve served up into some ovenproof dishes and I think Richard will be able to manage reheating them if need be.” She wrapped up the dishes in tea towels and tucked them into a wide basket with a cane handle. “Hmm, Alan love, I think I’ll need you to carry this.”
“No problem at all.”
Susan called out a goodbye to Max and the three of them embarked on their Christmas Samaritan journey—out the door, down the very short front path, along the road to the fifth house on the left, and up to the Capels’s front door. The entire journey took less than a minute.
As Archer knocked on the door, all Chloe’s worry about the Archer situation fell away, and she felt a rush of excitement. When she had proposed the Christmas swap back in July, all Chloe had wanted was a traditional English Christmas. She had no way of knowing then how much the hamlet of Penham would come to mean to her in just a few short days, or how much an English Christmas would feed her soul.
The door opened and a beaming Richard Capel welcomed them inside.
*
“I’ve got a crush,” said Chloe. They were back inside the Browning’s entry, just her and Archer, Susan having excused herself to get Christmas lunch on the table. Susan had invited Archer to stay, but he would be sitting down to lunch with his parents soon. Chloe thought again how odd it was to call it Christmas lunch when it was practically dinner time. It was almost dark outside.
“So, your crush? Is it on me?” Archer was playing; it was in the tug of a smile at the corners of his mouth. Perhaps he felt emboldened by their visit to the Capels, which had gone unbelievably well. Mrs Capel had been cognisant of their arrival and had clasped her hands together in almost childlike glee as they helped unpack the Christmas dinner.
“You? No, definitely not.” Chloe could play too. “On the Capels. Like, a serious crush. As in, I want to have a love like—” She stopped herself; she’d given away too much.
“I know just what you mean.” They shared a smile and there was a moment when Chloe wondered if he was going to kiss her. What was the protocol with the Brownings in the next room? And even more pressing, would a kiss resolve the multitude of questions that still hung between them? Chloe doubted that very much.
He didn’t kiss her—Chloe was both relieved and disappointed—but instead, took her hands in his. “So, that thing I wanted to ask you about. I’ve just found out that I’m expected in London the day after tomorrow, for an interview with Vanity Fair. And I know I dropped a bombshell on you this morning, and I can’t say I would blame you if you said no, but I thought that maybe you would like to come with me to London—tonight, actually. I’ll be driving back after Christmas lunch. It would just be three nights. We’d be staying at the Four Seasons. And, of course, I’d be more than happy to get you your own suite. I don’t mean to presume anything. So …”
Chloe was torn. She’d been loving the Christmassy bubble of Penham, but the mess with the paparazzi aside, she suspected it would now feel empty without Archer. Then again, how would Lucy’s parents feel about her disappearing off to London—and on Christmas?
“Um …”
“Of course. This is probably all a bit much. It’s just … I’m mindful that you’re not here for very long and I want to spend as much time with you as possible. But, with everything that’s happened, I shouldn’t have presu—”
“No, it’s not that,” she interrupted. “I mean, yeah, I’m still trying to wrap my brain around the paparazzi thing, but …” She looked over her shoulder towards the kitchen.
“Oh, right,” he said, lowering the volume of his voice further. “You’re worried that it might seem rude.”
“Yes, exactly. The Brownings have been so lovely, and they’ve really gone out of their way for me.”
“Of course, I understand.” He frowned.
“Chloe love, can I borrow you in the kitchen for a moment?” asked Susan. “Alan, pop in and say hello to Max, will you?”
The two thirty-somethings did as they were told and within moments, Chloe was on the receiving end of a conspiratorial whisper. “I hope you don’t think I’m poking my nose in, but I couldn’t help but overhear.” If Susan said the word, she’d stay, no questions asked. “You should go with Alan.”
“Really?”
“If it’s what you want to do, then absolutely,” came the whispered reply. Oh, thank god! “Alan—sorry, Archer—as I said, he’s a good egg. And if you can sort out all this other business, well, then … go. Go and have a lovely time, and we’ll be here when you return.”
Chloe dropped her cool façade and bounced up and down on the spot. “Thank you. I do really like him.”
“Yes.” A simple reply, but it meant the world to her.
“But Chloe love, we’re going to have to do something about a proper coat for you. I can’t bear to think of you freezing half to death like you were yesterday. I think I have something that will do.”
“Oh, I was fine. You don’t need to—” Susan’s raised eyebrows said otherwise. “Okay, you’re right. Thank you!” She gave Susan a kiss on the cheek and went to tell Archer the good news.
Chapter 19
Jules
“Hi, Dad! Merry Christmas!”
“Hi, sweetheart. Same to you, although it’s the twenty-sixth, there, huh?”
“Boxing Day, yes.”
“The Canadians call it that too, although I’ve never met one who could explain why.”
“Same here. As far as I can gather, it’s a lot like the Friday after Thanksgiving—leftovers, watching Netflix, and lounging about in a food coma. It’s also ninety-eight degrees today, so we’re inside with the A/C on.”
“I can’t even fathom that. It’s a balmy five degrees here today.”
As much as she missed her family, especially her dad, Jules was glad to be where she was. “So, what’s going on? The usual craziness?” she asked.
“You guessed it. I just finished cleaning up after breakfast.” She could imagine the giant spread—cinnamon rolls, pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Her dad’s Christmas Day breakfasts were legendary. “I think we’ll be opening presents soon.”
Jules knew the scene by heart—the giant scraggly Christmas tree decorated in popcorn and paper chains, just like when they were kids, surrounded by a mountain of presents which would turn into a mountain of discarded wrapping paper over the course of an hour. She’d always been someone who enjoyed the giving part more than the receiving, waiting to see the delight on her family’s faces as they unwrapped what she hoped were the perfect presents.
And not that she was ungrateful, but it was rare that she received something she wouldn’t buy for herself if she wanted it. Her best present last year had been from her dad. He’d gifted her a chunk of air miles, enough for an international flight. Actually, his gift had “paid” for her flight to Australia, but it was the thought that counted most to Jules, that message of, “I see you, that you need to go and explore this world. Here, go and see some of it on me.”
“Take photos for me, Dad?”
“For sure, sweetheart.”
“Especially of the tree,” she laughed. “How bad is it this year?” As much as her family Christmases felt claustrophobic at times, she cherished their tradition of finding the worst tree in the forest—one that no one else would want—then draping it in as many homemade decorations as possible. Chloe would have hated it, she realised, thinking of the department-store-ready tree that dominated the living room.
“We have hit optimal awfulness, an extremely poor specimen. But I think it may have baffled Lucy. I’m guessing from her reaction that you didn’t warn her.”
Jules laughed, “Oh, no, poor Lucy! I totally forgot about that.” The thought made a U-turn in her mind as she remembered that things weren’t right with Lucy—totally her doing. Feeling the sting of remorse, she added, “Hey, Dad, so how is Lucy?�
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“Oh, sweetheart, if we can’t have you here, it’s almost as good having Lucy. She’s a doll.”
Jules gulped down the lump in her throat.
“Is she there? Can I talk to her?”
“Sure. Hold on.” She could tell her dad was on the move, because the screen blurred, and she had to look away so she didn’t get motion sickness.
Her mom’s face appeared on the screen. “Merry Christmas, honey.”
“Oh, Mom, hi! Merry Christmas. You look beautiful.”
Her mom laughed off the compliment as she always did. “So how was your Aussie Christmas?” In her mom’s accent, it came out as “Oss-ee”.
“Great! Really different from home, though. Ash put on this awesome Christmas lunch. You’ll see when you check my Insta feed. We set this epic table and we all dressed up for a formal sit-down meal. We had ham, like at home, but everything else was a complete departure. We even had this massive platter of shrimp, or ‘prawns’, they say here. So good. Oh, and I baked my Christmas cookies. Total hit.” Her mom grinned at her.
“That sounds fun, honey. And what about Chloe’s friends? You’re having a good time?”
“Yeah, I mean, Ash’s been amazing, schlepping me about Melbourne. She’s almost as hard core with her organising as Chloe is, but all the heavy lifting’s over now, so hopefully she’ll just chill out for the next few days. There’s this whole thing with her ex that I won’t go into, but he was here yesterday, and he’s so sweet, and he’s obviously still into her … Anyway, I hope they figure it out.
“Oh, and we’re going away for a couple of days,” Jules added.
“You and Ash?”
“Yeah, and um, this guy, Matt. Actually, he’s a winemaker and we’re going to his vineyard.” She was playing it down, hoping her budding crush on Matt wasn’t too obvious, but her mom had always been able to tell when she was hiding something—like her feelings. “I miss you, Mom,” she said spontaneously.