A Cosy Candlelit Christmas: A wonderfully festive feel good romance (An Unforgettable Christmas Book 2)

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘Good. So this is your day. What do you want to do now?’

  ‘To be honest, now that I’ve sat down my legs are stiffening up and my boots are taking chunks out of my feet.’

  ‘You’d like to go back to St Martin?’

  She nodded. ‘If that’s OK.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, and he took a huge gulp of his drink. It was impossible to miss the tone of disappointment in his voice, no matter how he might be trying to mask it.

  ‘I could show you Serendipity Sound,’ she added.

  His forehead creased slightly.

  ‘My grandmother’s house. The one I’m supposed to inherit. It’s not too far from our hotel.’

  He smiled and instantly he seemed brighter. ‘I’m happy to do whatever makes you happy.’

  ‘It’s not often I get an offer like that so I’ll take it. Serendipity Sound it is.’

  They’d got lost, of course, but eventually the paths and back alleys started to look familiar and they finally stood before what had been Grandma Sarah’s second home.

  ‘This is all yours?’ Seb stood with his hands in his pockets, staring up at the house.

  ‘Not yet, but it will be.’

  He let out a low whistle. ‘That’s some gift.’

  ‘Especially from a woman who didn’t want anything to do with me when she was alive. I only wish I had the keys so I could show you the inside too.’

  ‘If it’s anything like as impressive as the outside then I can imagine it must be fantastic.’

  ‘It is,’ Isla said with a smile. For the first time since learning of its existence and the fact she was set to own it, there was more than a hint of pride in her voice. ‘I still can’t believe it’s coming to me.’

  ‘I’ll bet. I’m quite sure I’ll never own anything as beautiful as this.’

  ‘That’s what I thought. Just goes to show you never know what life’s got in store for you.’

  ‘It’s a shame we can’t go in.’

  ‘We can’t get in but I can show you around the outside. And we can sneak a peek through the windows so you’ll get some idea.’ She nudged him. ‘Come on.’

  Snow had fallen overnight and in a few short hours the path she’d taken with Justin up to the house had been buried. But they trudged through, ankles disappearing into the drifts, until they made it to the sheltered veranda where they stamped the snow from their boots. With hands cupped around their eyes, faces pressed against the window, they peered into the living room. It was as warm and welcoming as Isla remembered it to be, and she itched to go inside, wishing now she’d persuaded Justin to give her the keys before they’d parted.

  ‘It looks nice,’ Seb said from beside her.

  She was about to suggest that they try another window for a view of the kitchen when she stopped and frowned.

  ‘That’s weird.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Yesterday when I was here we put Christmas decorations up. They were just crappy old ones but they were all over the place. Now there’s nothing.’

  ‘Someone’s taken them down?’ Seb moved away from the window and Isla followed his lead. She stared up at him.

  ‘Yes, but who?’

  ‘Your cousin, perhaps? Before you left here?’

  ‘We left together; I would have known if he’d done it then because it would have taken a while to do.’

  ‘So he came back to do it later on?’

  ‘He could have done, but the question of why still remains. Why would he feel the need to strip it back to normal? Nobody’s coming in here, so what’s the point? And it’s Christmas anyway so why take down the decorations before Christmas is over, even if he felt he needed to?’

  Seb opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again.

  ‘Come on,’ Isla said. ‘Whatever you’re thinking you can say it and I won’t be angry.’

  ‘Perhaps your cousin is using the house. Bringing guests up here? You said he had the keys.’

  ‘I still don’t see the need to take down the Christmas decorations. And we’re assuming it’s him.’

  ‘Who else could it be?’

  Isla narrowed her eyes slightly. ‘I don’t think it’s a passing bear, that’s for sure. I’d put a fair amount of money on Ian.’

  ‘Your father? But why would he need to do that?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, folding her arms tight across her chest and staring out at the snowy wilderness beyond the veranda. ‘But I intend to find out.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Isla was quiet and preoccupied on the walk back to Residence Alpenrose. Seb had asked her on more than one occasion if she was OK, and she’d given him a vague smile and reassured him that she was just tired from all the fresh air and exercise. In reality, her mind was full of thoughts of the strange and perplexing absence of the Christmas decorations. Who’d been in to take them down? And why would they bother? What did it matter that there were a few strings of tinsel around the place – it was almost Christmas after all. She hadn’t wanted to make the phone call to her father with Seb there, so she’d have to wait until they’d arrived back at the hotel and she was in the solitude of her own room again.

  Seb had seemed a little disappointed that she hadn’t wanted to top off their day out with a drink in the bar, and though she felt a little kick of something like regret deep inside, her mind was simply too focused on the mystery at her grandmother’s house to recognise it.

  Ian answered on the third ring.

  ‘Isla!’ he greeted. Despite the years of living all over the world, the hints of a once strong Edinburgh accent were still recognisable – and more so whenever he said her name. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine,’ she replied, her tone brusque enough to warn him that she hadn’t called for a cosy chat. And though her tone might have been a warning signal to anyone who didn’t know her, in reality, Isla was fighting to keep control. She didn’t want to believe that there was some sort of conspiracy, some scheme to trip her up. She didn’t want to feel like everyone else knew something massive that she didn’t. That the willingness to form a new relationship the McCoys had shown since she’d been in St Martin wasn’t real. Her tone might have been harsh but it hid the fear of heartache, of a second rejection by her father, that the words of regret he’d spoken to her had meant nothing.

  ‘Fine? It doesn’t sound that way to me. What’s going on?’

  ‘I could ask you the same thing, Ian. I went to take a look at Serendipity Sound yesterday, as you know, and while I was there with Justin we put some Christmas decorations up.’

  ‘That’s nice…’

  ‘So today I went back and they’d been taken down. It just struck me as weird.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Who would need to do that?’

  ‘You think I’ve done it? What would I do that for?’

  ‘That’s what I was wondering.’

  ‘Isla, I haven’t been anywhere near your grandmother’s place – not for weeks now.’

  ‘Then who has?’

  ‘I’ve no idea.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I know my own mind, if that’s what you’re suggesting,’ he said, and his tone had hardened a little. ‘I’m not lying either – I’ve no need to. I haven’t been to the house and I certainly don’t have time to mess around taking your Christmas decorations down. The place is yours now and if you want tinsel up until July it’s got nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Well, could Celine have been in? Or Benet or Natalie?’

  ‘Celine has been with me since yesterday. Benet and Natalie were both working in the shop yesterday and today, and I don’t see why they’d go to the trouble of walking all the way to your gran’s house to take down some old tinsel. Besides, they don’t have keys.’

  ‘But you do.’

  ‘I’ve told you it wasn’t me.’

  Isla raked her top teeth across her lip. ‘Do you have the keys?’

  ‘You were there
yesterday. How do you think you got in? Don’t you have them now?’

  ‘No, Justin…’ Isla’s forehead creased into a deep frown. Justin still had the only set of keys outside Grover Rousseau’s office, then. But why in the world would Justin feel the need to go back without her and take down the decorations they’d put up together? She was missing something, and she didn’t like the feeling that, in the background, someone was taking her for a mug. Was that someone the seemingly amiable Justin? ‘Justin has the keys,’ she finished. ‘At least he did yesterday.’

  ‘I thought he was leaving them with you when he was done. Want me to call him and have a word?’

  ‘It’s OK, I’m seeing him later.’

  There was a brief silence at the other end of the line, and Isla could almost imagine the cogs working in Ian’s head. ‘You’re seeing Justin. Again?’

  ‘It wasn’t something you’d worked out between yourselves then? You know, like all the other times you asked him to schmooze me into agreeing to this stupid will condition?’

  ‘Isla…’ He let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Justin offered to be a neutral voice because you wouldn’t talk to us and it seemed like a good idea. There was no plan to trap you or manipulate you or anything else. Although, to be honest, there doesn’t seem any point in me telling you this because you’ll believe what you want to believe regardless of the evidence.’

  She guessed that he was tempted to ascribe that particular personality trait to her mother but to his credit he held back.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s early days, you know.’

  ‘I know that. But you need to start trusting me a little if we’re going to make this work. I realise that I haven’t given you much cause, but I’m trying very hard now. You need to give me some wriggle room if I’m going to make any progress.’

  ‘I know, and I’m trying too. I’m sorry I accused you.’

  ‘Thank you, but I’m not sure what I was being accused of. If you don’t mind me saying, your decorations being taken down is hardly the crime of the century. If you couldn’t get in how did you discover this?’

  ‘Through the windows.’

  ‘Did it look as if anything else was missing? Furniture or such?’

  Isla gazed at the window where the streets were already bathed in dusk. ‘I don’t think so,’ she replied uncertainly. ‘You think a burglar would have taken the tinsel as well?’

  ‘I just can’t think of an explanation otherwise.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  ‘I can ask Celine but I think she’ll say the same as me. Are you sure you didn’t just miss them? They could still be up and if you only managed to see a corner of the room through the window you could have not noticed them there.’

  ‘They were definitely missing,’ she said. She sat on the bed and began to kick her boots off. ‘I don’t suppose it matters – it was just weird, that’s all.’

  ‘I can only suggest you ask Justin when you see him.’

  She was silent for a moment. Was there anything else to say? It didn’t look as if Ian knew anything and if he did he wasn’t sharing it with her. Something didn’t sit right with her still but she didn’t know how to tackle it without antagonising him further. And if he was genuine in his desire to fix their relationship she didn’t want to jeopardise that.

  ‘Right; I’ll do that. Bye, Ian.’

  ‘Before you go,’ he cut in as she went to end the call, ‘I needed to talk to you anyway and I didn’t want to send this by text. About Grover… You know, we have to let him know about the inheritance and what we agreed.’

  ‘Oh, sorry, yes. I’d almost forgotten about that.’

  ‘I’m not sure what we have actually agreed, if I’m honest. And I want to make sure we’re singing from the same hymn sheet before I call him. So maybe you could come by tomorrow and we can talk more.’

  ‘Come by? To your house?’

  ‘Yes. Or you could come to the hire shop if it makes you feel better? Somewhere a little more public and neutral. I’d completely understand and Celine could hold the fort for a while.’

  Isla chewed her lip for a moment. ‘Sure,’ she said finally. ‘I’ll come to the shop tomorrow.’

  She’d thought about phoning Justin to ask him about Serendipity Sound but she wasn’t sure how to frame the question. Neither was she sure how she felt about seeing him for dinner now. Part of her wanted to seek out Seb’s opinion, though she couldn’t even say why, but her logical inner voice told her not to be so stupid. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t talk to Seb about it, because talking to Seb would mean revealing that she and Justin weren’t exactly cousins in the way she’d described to him earlier that day. For reasons she couldn’t fathom either, admitting that to Seb mattered even more than getting to the truth.

  With one thing or another, it seemed Isla wasn’t sure about very much that evening as she got ready to be picked up for dinner, and all she could think to do was stick to the original plan and see how the night panned out. Whether she would find the moment to broach the subject with Justin in person remained to be seen, but there was a small part of her that wondered whether she had been mistaken after all, as Ian had suggested. She could have been, but the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced she was right about what she’d seen in the house.

  So, if not Ian, and not Celine or Natalie or Benet, as Ian had asserted, then who? It left only Justin, but why would he have done that when he’d spent so long with her putting them up? And it meant him having to return at some point after he’d seen her back to Residence Alpenrose and before she’d returned to her grandmother’s chalet with Seb. Had he banked on her not returning to the house again before she left St Martin? She supposed she probably wouldn’t have gone back if not for her trip out with Seb. That still didn’t explain why he’d do such a weird thing, though.

  At eight Justin sent a text to let her know he was waiting outside. As she stepped onto the pavement she saw him wrapped in a quilted coat and woollen hat. He stamped his feet and blew into his hands as he glanced up and down the street, spinning round to face her at the sound of her voice.

  ‘Sorry to keep you waiting in the cold.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ he smiled. ‘I hope you like fondue.’

  ‘I don’t really know,’ Isla replied as they began to walk. ‘I assume you’ve booked it already.’

  ‘Yes, but we can change our plans if you don’t want to go there. I thought—’

  ‘It’s fine. I’ll give it a go.’

  A pause.

  ‘You are unhappy, I think,’ he said.

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘You are the ice queen again – like when we first met. Yesterday I thought we were friends but today you are colder than the depths of Lac Blanc.’

  ‘And I suppose I should be insulted by that colourful simile. Well, I would be if I cared enough. Which I don’t.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Would you prefer to go back to your hotel? We do not have to eat dinner tonight.’

  ‘Do you want me to go back to my hotel? Because you were the one who asked me out to dinner but then didn’t even bother to find out what I liked before you booked on my behalf.’

  ‘I thought you might like a surprise.’

  ‘I never like surprises. If you’d been paying any attention at all you’d have worked that out. I like predictability and logic. And I like to be asked about things.’

  ‘OK…’ he replied slowly. ‘Where would you like to go for dinner? Very predictable Italian? Pizza with a side order of safety?’

  ‘If you’re going to take the piss then we can call this off right now and I’ll go back to my hotel.’ Her voice was rising, and perhaps she was being unreasonable, but her doubts about Justin, coupled with her attraction to him, had her emotions tying her common sense in knots. She didn’t know whether she wanted to slap him or kiss him.

  ‘I thought that’s what you were doing anyway. Don’t make idle threats if you cannot act o
n them.’

  ‘Urgh!’ Isla squealed, causing several passers-by to stare. ‘I don’t know why I ever liked you!’

  ‘That is the same for both of us!’ Justin hissed back. ‘What’s the matter with you tonight? No wonder your father ran away from your mother if you’re anything like her!’

  Isla halted and stared at him, her nostrils flared and rage in her heart. ‘How dare you even mention my mother! You don’t get to talk about her, not in any context at any time. You know nothing about her, or me for that matter!’

  ‘I know she was crazy! I know she drove your father crazy too! He had to run before he was driven to suicide!’

  ‘That’s not true!’ Isla cried, fighting back tears. She wasn’t even crying because he’d hurt her, but because in her heart she knew that some of what he’d said was true. Her mother had never been an easy woman to live with, even for her daughter, and she could only imagine what she’d been like as a wife. But she loved Glory despite her flaws, and more painful than anything else was admitting to herself just what sort of woman had brought her into the world – far from perfect and far from selfless. Isla wanted to ignore those aspects of Glory’s personality but it had become harder as the years had gone by and Isla had grown to see her through the eyes of an adult rather than a child.

  But then the tears came, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. Rubbing a gloved hand beneath her eyes, she spun on her heel, almost losing her balance on the ridges of ice coating the pavement, and turned to walk back the way they’d come.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Justin called after her.

  ‘Where do you think? You told me to go back to my hotel you pig, so that’s where I’m going!’

  Her step quickened and she became vaguely aware of his echoing on the street behind her as he followed.

  ‘We have not finished!’ he shouted.

  ‘We’re so finished.’ Isla walked faster still, head down.

  ‘I’m sorry!’

  ‘You sound it. Tell it to someone who believes your bullshit.’

  ‘Isla… wait!’ His hand was on her arm and he pulled her to face him. ‘I mean it, OK? I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said what I did but you do strange things to me, you…’