If Every Day Was Christmas: A gorgeous and heart-warming Christmas romance

by Donna Ashcroft

‘I’m not lost. I know exactly what I want and where I’m headed.’ Out of Lockton in the direction of the Yorkshire Dales in a few hours. Something spat in the fire, a loud snap and crackle, as if someone or something wasn’t happy with that idea. There was probably a song in that somewhere – one his subconscious would do its damnedest to write later on.

  ‘I remember how proud your grandmother was, how much she used to boast about you.’ Jack paused, as emotion thickened his voice. ‘I could almost feel her touching my shoulder while they were talking, telling me to call. We both know I was always too afraid of her to say no.’ Tom nodded and smiled. ‘So I’m calling to say, I think it’s time you got back on course. I know you’re eaten up with guilt about not being there when your grandmother…’ He cleared his throat, trailing off. ‘Despite me telling you that nothing about what happened was your fault. You’ve made some changes, some of them good – but you need to find your music again, sonny. Without it in your life you’re turning your back on something very special. Blocking out a part of yourself. I’m not sure you’re letting yourself live, and I’m calling to say you should take every moment you have and live it to the max – because you never know when those moments will disappear.’

  There was laughter again in the background, and a woman shouted, ‘Jack!’

  ‘I’ve got to go, they want to check out the casino.’ He laughed. ‘I’m loving this trip, Tom, it’s like a new lease of life. I’ve been missing your grandmother so much these last few years, I’d forgotten how to enjoy myself. Next year I hope you’re going to join me. There are lots of pretty girls on this ship, and if you brought your guitar…’ He coughed suggestively. ‘Let’s just say, you won’t be lonely.’

  Tom smiled. He’d not heard his grandfather laugh like this for years. ‘I’ll think about it,’ he lied. ‘Try not to lose too much money – I’ll call you on Christmas Eve.’ His voice broke a little.

  ‘You do that, sonny – and we’ll raise a toast to your grandmother, wherever she may be. Perhaps when I get back home, you’ll come and visit?’

  Tom found his head bobbing. ‘Yes,’ he promised, meaning it this time.

  His doorbell rang just as they were saying their goodbyes and he hung up the phone. Cooper skidded towards the front door and Tom paused before he went over to it, feeling a strange combination of hope and fear. Was it Meg? Coming to confess something else… or to tell him again she hadn’t known. Should be believe her? A part of him wished he could.

  Davey was standing on the doorstep, looking frozen. The weather had taken another turn for the worse and snow was falling in thick, fast droves. He stood back and let his friend come in. ‘You disappeared from the marquee and I couldn’t find you,’ Davey said, taking a moment to shake ice onto the mat and pull off his coat before looking up into Tom’s face.

  ‘Sorry. I needed to get back before my shift later, to feed Cooper.’ Tom wandered into the sitting room. The fire was burning and the Christmas decorations still sparkled from this morning, so he went to switch them off. He didn’t want any reminders of Meg.

  Davey went to the windowsill and picked up the empty Christmas bauble before putting it back down with a long sigh. ‘I saw Meg by the Promise Tree earlier, in case you’re interested.’

  Tom shook his head.

  ‘So she knows who you are?’

  ‘Of course she does.’ Tom spun on his heel. ‘Why else would she get involved with me? There were so many clues, it was obvious. But I missed them all.’ He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the jumble of feelings, the anger burning in his chest.

  ‘I’ll tell you she didn’t know. Meg’s not a liar. My guess is whatever she told you is true,’ Davey said.

  Tom swallowed but didn’t argue. There was no point now.

  His friend’s face fell and he shook his head. ‘She’s not Marnie, Tom. No one in Lockton – including Meg – cares who you used to be. A few might be nosy, want to poke into your past because that’s village life, but no one cares if you’re famous, or whether you play that guitar like Jimi Hendrix or a two-year-old.’ He put his hands in his pockets. ‘Except for me.’ He pulled a face. ‘Which is why I’m here. I need a favour.’

  Tom walked up to the fire and poked it with a stick, just to give his hands something to do. ‘What is it?’

  ‘The bands have both cancelled.’

  Tom turned, took in Davey’s face and felt his insides sink. He drew in a sharp breath. ‘You want me to play?’

  Davey’s chin jerked up. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask. I know you don’t want to.’ He glanced at the guitar and his forehead wrinkled in confusion – perhaps because the last time he’d visited it had been hidden away in the boot room? ‘I wouldn’t ask except all the fridges in the pub are filled with food, the marquee’s hired and we’ve got over three hundred people arriving on Christmas Eve. If we cancel now, we’ll lose the village hall because the roof won’t get fixed, along with a fair amount of money. I’d probably live with those things…’ He swallowed. ‘But it would be the first Christmas Promise the village has broken in over two hundred years. I’m not sure I can bear being responsible for that.’ His shoulders drooped. ‘Just two hours, Tom. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. I’ve called around all my contacts and no one can make it. Worse, Johnny’s been threatening to play the spoons…’

  Tom chuckled despite himself. ‘Okay. Fine. I’ll do it. I owe you a lot – you’ve helped me out when most wouldn’t, stuck with me through everything. Besides, I’ve got nothing to lose now.’ Meg knew who he was; Morag too. It wouldn’t be long before the whole village was in on it. Which was another good reason why he had to go. He closed his eyes. They’d all look at him differently. He’d no longer be the guy behind the bar, the man to call if your tap was leaking. It would be all about the man he used to be. How long would it be before they got bored of that? Before it wasn’t enough for them either? His chest felt hollow. ‘I’ll stay in Lockton until then. But as soon as the concert’s over, I’m going to leave.’

  Twenty-Seven

  Apple Cross Inn looked beautiful. Meg had spent the last three days decorating the pub, car park and marquee with as many Christmas baubles and as much tinsel as she could find, with Emily playing lookout. If Tom was working in the bar, or there was a sniff of him getting close to the pub, she’d headed back to her shop to hide. She knew she was avoiding him, but wasn’t ready to see him yet – had no idea what to say. He’d lied, then accused her of doing the same. They were so different, they might as well be from opposite sides of the universe – and those differences still terrified her despite everyone’s advice. But her heart still ached when she thought about him, and she’d barely slept or eaten since their fight. Because she couldn’t stand the idea of not being with him either. She just didn’t know how to put things right.

  ‘It’s busy,’ her mother said as they walked into the pub and up to the bar, and Meg’s stomach clenched even though she knew Tom wouldn’t be there. She’d heard on the grapevine that a mystery act had agreed to play the concert when the other bands had pulled out, and guessed he’d decided to stand in. There hadn’t been an official announcement – other than that they were in for a surprise – and she’d supposed Tom had been worried about all the attention. Although what he’d do after the concert, when they all knew who he was, was hard to figure out.

  ‘Looks like it’s going to be a good night,’ her dad said, giving Emily a big smile. ‘I’ve not been out for a night like this for years. Feels like old times.’ He grinned at Kitty and she blushed. Her mother had worn make-up tonight, and a pink dress. She looked pretty and happy for the first time in years, and there’d been no dark silences or fights. But Meg was still on tenterhooks, not quite ready to trust the changes. Her parents still hadn’t kissed or hugged in front of her, and she wasn’t sure what that meant.

  ‘Do you want to find some space in the marquee – see if you can get close to the front?’ Meg asked, looking around the room. It was fillin
g up fast and she didn’t want to risk missing a good seat for the concert. If Tom was playing, she wanted to be front and centre to support him, despite everything. She knew he’d be tense now, probably wishing he hadn’t agreed to step in. She wished she could go and see him, or at least feed him some cheese or a chocolate bar, but knew he wouldn’t appreciate the contact. She knew he’d been avoiding her for the last three days too. ‘Here are your tickets.’ She pulled a couple of slips of colourful paper out of her pocket and pushed them into her dad’s hands. She knew Morag was standing at the entrance of the marquee taking them – and woe betide anyone who tried to get in without one.

  Oliver nodded. ‘We’ll save you and Emily a spot. A double whisky for me, please, Meg.’

  ‘Me too,’ Kitty added, surprising her, then followed him towards the back of the pub.

  The bar was deep in customers and Meg could see Davey and Matilda working hard on the other side of the wooden counter, along with a couple of young women Meg didn’t know. Johnny appeared from the back carrying a couple of plates piled high with steak and chips, which he quickly delivered to one of the tables. Then he stopped as he passed on his way back to the kitchen, just as Lilith walked into the pub, and waved before striding over to join them. She was wearing her trademark heels again and the spikes were covered in snow.

  ‘It’s crazy,’ Johnny said, grimacing when the door opened again and a crowd of five entered the pub. ‘Davey’s set up another bar in the marquee and we’ve hired extra staff from Morridon, but a few of those haven’t turned up.’ His gaze drifted to the windows. Even from here Meg could see thick snowflakes falling. ‘I’m guessing they’re not going to make it. I heard the roads are getting harder to navigate because of all the drifts. Even with the snowploughs working overtime, they simply can’t keep up. They closed the airport and train stations an hour ago. Grant, Fergus and Agnes were meant to be driving to pick Evie and Callum up from Inverness; I just hope they made it and their plane wasn’t turned back. They’re not here yet and I know they don’t want to miss the concert.’ He frowned. ‘Although the rest of Scotland seems to have arrived just fine.’ He sighed when the door opened again and two more people strode in, their coats and boots covered in ice.

  Lilith scrutinised the bar and put her hands into the pockets of her jeans. ‘You need help?’ Her dark eyes flicked towards Davey as a young couple moved away from the counter with their drinks, and a gap appeared before someone else filled it.

  ‘We need a miracle. Failing that, experienced bar staff. These guys are keen, but they’re clueless,’ Johnny groaned.

  ‘Where’s Tom?’ Lilith asked, looking around.

  ‘He’s… a little tied up. He’s not going to be serving at the bar this evening.’

  Lilith glanced at Meg with a quizzical look before turning back to Johnny. ‘I can help.’ She tapped a knuckle on her chest. She was wearing one of her silky shirts again. This one was midnight blue and made her eyes appear even darker. She glanced at the bar again as Davey looked up and spotted her, and her cheeks went a luminous shade of pink.

  ‘You’ve done bar work?’ Johnny asked, frowning.

  Lilith raised an eyebrow and her eyes lit up. ‘I run a hotel, I’ve managed a deli and have been known to pull a pint. Although I prefer serving a decent Barolo.’ She paused, glancing over at Davey again, who looked flustered as he placed three glasses of wine in front of a customer and took the money. ‘I think I can manage this. You helped me. Perhaps it’s not just your brother who can rescue people, sì?’

  Johnny chuckled as a broad grin spread across his face and he nodded a few times, his eyes sparkling. ‘Seems not.’ He gave her an appraising look. ‘I’m thinking, Miss Tiramisu, you might be just the woman our Davey needs. Yes please to the help. If you mean it?’

  Lilith pushed her long hair over her shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t.’ She waved a hand towards the door of the kitchen. ‘Lead the way.’ Then she paused for a moment and eyed Meg and Emily. ‘If you sneak to the front, I’ll serve you first. If people get in the way, do what I’d do – push.’ She grinned wickedly. ‘Remember what you told me, Meg, because I have. Sometimes our differences can be good, sì? Perhaps it’s time to consider that and go after what you want, just like me.’ She winked, before flicking her head in the air and marching after Johnny.

  Morag took Meg and Emily’s tickets at the door of the marquee. She was wearing a pink, yellow and blue dress and leaned heavily on her walking stick. ‘It’s busy, lassie,’ Morag called over the din, pointing towards the stage. ‘Your mam and da got seats right at the front so you’ll get an excellent view. I saved a spot on the row behind for Agnes and the rest of the family when they get here.’ She winked at Meg. ‘I figure we’ll all want good seats for the big surprise.’

  Meg frowned. ‘You knew?’ Her stomach dropped.

  ‘Ach, lassie, Tom didn’t so much as give me a hint.’ Morag patted Meg heavily on the shoulder, almost spilling one of the glasses of whisky she was holding. ‘I spotted him in one of my magazines. Told him to stop all that fibbing, but I think he was worried about what people would think. Man’s an eejit, but I’ve a soft spot for him. He knows what’s important in life.’

  She opened her mouth and Meg nodded quickly. ‘I know. I should give him a chance. I got that.’ Her eyes darted to her parents who were sitting in the front row. Their heads were close together and they were giggling. ‘I might even agree with you,’ she said on a sigh, glancing at the empty stage. She’d hung about a hundred silver baubles onto the ceiling above it and drenched the marque walls in tinsel, so the whole thing glittered like something out of Cinderella’s ball. ‘I just have to figure out how to convince Tom to give me the same.’

  ‘Ah, lassie, you’ll find a way.’ Morag grinned. ‘Anyone who can make Christmas last three hundred and sixty-five days a year can do just about anything they put their mind to.’ A couple walked up behind them and Morag gently nudged Meg and Emily on. They weaved their way through the crowd of people. There were rows and rows of seats facing the stage. Many were already filled, and overhead the multicoloured baubles and fairy lights twinkled as huge black speakers pumped out ‘I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas’. Meg jumped as someone tapped her on the shoulder. When she spun round she saw it was her best friend, Evie Stuart.

  ‘We made it!’ Evie punched the air. ‘I thought our plane from New York was going to have to turn around when we got close to Inverness, but we landed just before they closed the airport. The drive here took hours.’ Evie rolled her eyes and gave Meg a quick hug as they stood to the side to allow people to pass. Evie’s bump had grown over the last couple of months and her cheeks glowed pink, clashing with her shiny red hair.

  ‘I missed you.’ Meg sighed into her friend’s shoulder, squeezing her tight.

  ‘You must be Meg’s sister?’ Evie asked as they pulled apart, and Emily nodded. ‘Ach, it’s glorious to meet you.’ She looked around the marquee. ‘And so bonnie to be back in Lockton. We need to get together, Meg – Nana Agnes tells me we have a lot to catch up on. I hear there’s a new hot toddy in town who you didn’t mention once in our emails or calls.’ She raised an eyebrow as Meg pulled a face. ‘Looks like there’s lots for us to talk about.’ She tapped Emily’s shoulder. ‘I also heard you’re thinking of becoming a vet?’

  Emily nodded. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Nana Agnes – she said she might have sorted you some work experience.’ She grinned. ‘Which means you’ll be staying here too for a while?’

  Emily’s eyes darted to Meg. ‘If that’s okay?’

  ‘Of course it is,’ Meg said, grinning for the first time in days. ‘But I’m not telling Mum.’

  Emily laughed. ‘It’s okay. I already have. She was fine about it.’ She frowned, looking across at her parents. ‘She’s so much more relaxed, I almost don’t recognise her.’

  ‘Lockton has that effect on people,’ Evie explained. ‘My nana also told me about the wee chapp
ie you found in the barn on Buttermead Farm.’ Emily nodded. ‘You’ll be pleased to hear we saw a herd of reindeer in a field somewhere between here and Morridon on the drive from the airport, so I think he may not be alone for long.’

  ‘You did?’ Emily yelped. ‘I saw something about them on Google but no mention of them since. I didn’t realise they were so close. Did you drive right past them?’

  Evie nodded. ‘The roads are awful though. I thought for a minute we were going to have to hop out of the truck and climb onto one of them for a ride.’ She snorted. ‘I’d have done it in a heartbeat, but Callum was scared.’

  ‘Really?’ Her fiancé arrived behind them at that exact moment along with Grant, Evie’s mum Fiona, Agnes and Fergus. He shook his head sternly, but swiftly grabbed Evie’s hand and kissed it on the back.

  Fergus frowned at the crowd. ‘And I thought all the blethering from the Jam Club was bad,’ he moaned, shaking his head and glaring as a couple shoved around them.

  ‘Morag saved us seats at the front, Fergus.’ Agnes winked. ‘There’s a bar in the corner if you’re hankering for a whisky.’

  ‘We’ll get the drinks,’ Grant interrupted, nodding at Fergus and Callum. ‘You lot go and get our seats. Evie needs to sit down.’

  A drum roll sounded above them as more people entered the marquee and sat. Meg and Emily approached the front row just as Davey hopped onto the stage and the crowd hushed…

  Twenty-Eight

  Tom’s heart was thundering like a runaway train as he walked in from the side of the marquee and stood facing the stage. There was glitter everywhere – baubles hung across the ceiling and tinsel climbed every wall. The room contained more sparkles than he’d seen at any of his previous gigs, and he knew the whole thing was down to Meg.

  He looked around the crowd, balling his hands into tight fists because his palms were so damp. He’d practised on the guitar yesterday evening in front of all the empty seats, but this felt very different and every part of him wanted to turn and run.