A crash, followed by a bang did make her jump. It also made Little M bark, leap up and dash towards the sofa.
'That's it.' Mia leant forward, put her mug on the coffee table, stroked Little M's head and got to her feet. 'I've got to go and see if they need help.'
Ella sighed and did the same. 'Must we?' She gave Mia a pleading look.
'I think we must,' Lori said, following Mia's lead.
Luckily, at that precise moment Jet, Gill and Franklin appeared in the doorway and Little M raced towards Jet, madly wagging her tail.
'We were just coming to see if we could help,' Mia said, walking over to Jet.
He shook his head. 'It's best you don't go out in that. It's pretty serious stuff out there. I'm not sure if this is a blizzard or a hurricane. The last time we had weather like this, I think I was a kid. We lost half the tiles from the church steeple roof as well as a couple of thatched roofs of the cottages on Frog Hill. I hope your visitors are okay.'
'I think they would call if they're not,' Mia said. 'Come and sit down all of you and we'll go and make you something hot to drink. Oh. Where's Pete?' She looked anxiously at Jet, who smiled.
'Don't worry. He hasn't been blown away. At least I hope he hasn't. I told him he could stay, but he wanted to get home and be with his wife, so I let him go before it got worse. He left about fifteen minutes ago and should be home by now. I asked him to give me a quick ring and let me know.'
The landline rang as Jet was finishing his sentence and he grinned and picked up the phone from the table nearby.
'Hi, Pete … Really? … Thanks for letting me know.' He hung up, frowning. 'Some of the fences are down and Pete says there're already massive banks of snow on Seaside Road. If this continues, no one's going anywhere for the rest of today and tonight. Hopefully, the council will get the snowploughs out tomorrow, but I wouldn't count on that. I've got a plough we can attach to one of the tractors, so at least I can clear the yard, the drive and the exit onto Seaside Road, but other than that...' He shrugged and let his voice trail off. Finally, he smiled, slid an arm around Mia's waist and pulled her to him. 'What a good thing we moved you in this afternoon. A few more hours and we might not have been able to get you here.'
'Perfect timing,' she said, smiling up at him as he kissed her quickly on the lips.
'It looks like you and Franklin will be staying the night, Lori,' Jet continued. 'I'll get a bed made up.'
'We'll do that,' Mia said. 'You sit down and relax. You've had a busy day.'
Jet laughed. 'This wasn't a busy day. It was an unusual day for a farmer, but it wasn't busy, except perhaps for the last half an hour. But if you're sure. Making beds isn't on my list of favourite pastimes. A bed needs to be made up for Ella and Gill, too. I haven't done that yet. Everything you need is either in the airing cupboard at the top of the first flight of stairs and to your left, or in the linen cupboard in the utility room. Help yourself to anything.' He glanced at Gill and Franklin. 'I think we deserve half an hour beside the fire. As for those hot drinks, Mia. Personally, I'd prefer a large brandy, and one of Hettie's mince pies, if there are any left.'
'Same here, please' said Gill, dashing towards the fire and giving Ella a quick kiss on the way.
'Sounds good,' Franklin said, hugging Lori.
'I'll go and get them.' Mia eased herself out of Jet's arms and headed towards the kitchen.
'We'll make the beds,' Lori said, grabbing Ella by the arm and pulling her towards the door.
'Must we?' Ella whined, but she was grinning. 'I'd much rather stay beside the fire.'
'You can do that later,' Mia told her. 'There won't be anything else to do if it's as bad out there as Pete said, so it'll be an evening by the fire for us all.'
'Not necessarily,' said Jet, winking and grinning devilishly. 'I can think of other ways to spend the evening.'
Mia grinned back. 'What? Like playing charades, you mean? Ella, Mum and I love charades, don't we?' She winked at them.
Jet laughed. 'Of course, my beautiful, sexy girlfriend. Charades was precisely what I had in mind.'
The blizzard eventually blew itself out around midnight and, despite Mia's joke, they had in fact all spent the evening playing charades. And not just charades. They played Monopoly, Poker – which Ella suggested should be strip poker, but Jet said there was no way he was losing his clothes in front of his girlfriend's mum, and Snap. How they went from poker to Snap, no one was quite sure, but Mia said it must have had something to do with the amount of wine and brandy they had been drinking.
Gill made chilli con carne for supper, and Mia had asked if she could help, so needless to say, the kitchen now looked as if a troop of drunken monkeys, not just monkeys, had been in there.
Rod Stewart's Christmas Album had played in the background. It had been Sarah Cross' favourite, and Jet said he always played it at this time of year. Lori had been impressed. Rod Stewart was one of her favourite's too. Even Mia had enjoyed it, although she'd been equally pleased when Jet had put on a selection of other Christmas songs.
The indoor lights twinkled and sparkled, the house was cosy and warm, and everyone forgot about the blizzard – until the following morning.
'God, it's bitter out there,' Jet said, shaking off a covering of snowflakes and rubbing his gloved hands together as he came into the kitchen from the farmyard with Little M at his heels. 'Oh. What happened in here?'
'I happened,' Mia said, pouring him a large mug of coffee. He'd gone straight out after showering earlier, telling Mia he wanted to check on the chickens and cows, so he hadn't stopped for coffee, and he'd used the front door so that he could briefly inspect the outdoor decorations.
He laughed. 'Do you always make this much mess when you cook? It's never looked like this before when you've stayed.'
'That's because I've never cooked before. You have. Or we've eaten out. And yes, I do always make this much mess. That's one of the reasons I don't cook. But all that's going to change. I'm going to learn to do things properly, and Mum and Gill have promised to teach me – and be patient while they do so. Right now, I'm going to make you eggs on toast. Just as soon as I can find the toaster. And the eggs. And the pan. Do you know what any of those things look like?' she joked.
He grinned as he walked over and kissed her. He pointed to the large four-slice toaster on the worktop. 'I think that's the thing you cook the eggs in. But you'd better check with Lori first because I could be wrong.'
She gave him a playful slap. 'You're a good cook, like Gill, so you may laugh, but wait until Christmas Day. I'm determined I'm going to prepare Christmas dinner with my own fair hands. It'll be the best turkey you've ever tasted.'
'Excellent,' he said, taking the coffee she gave him and gulping a mouthful down. 'Do you know how to pluck a turkey?'
A shiver ran through her. 'Er. Pluck it? Don't they all come without feathers?'
'They do if you buy one from the shops. Not if you get one from the local, free-range turkey farmer. They come fresh from the field.' He grinned again. 'Don't look so horrified. He also sells them ready-plucked. I was teasing you.'
'Well don't. My heart almost stopped when you said “pluck”.'
'Don't use fowl language this early in the morning,' Ella said, joining them and smiling at her own joke. 'God. What happened in here?'
'Don't you start,' said Mia, pouring her a coffee. 'I should've cleared up last night like Gill said we should, but we could hardly stand by the time we went to bed.'
'Morning.' Lori followed behind Ella. 'Shall I make breakfast for us all, darling? If that's all right with you, of course, Jet?'
'Make yourself at home,' Jet said, smiling at her.
'I'd better clear up first, Mum.' Mia grabbed some of the pans and took them to the dishwasher.
'We can do that later,' Lori said. 'I don't think you'll be going anywhere today. Have you looked outside?'
'At least the blizzard's stopped,' Jet said. 'But it's cold out there and it's still snowing. T
he best place for everyone today is indoors. Unless, like me and Franklin, they've got a farm to run.'
Mia handed Lori a cup of coffee and turned her attention back to Jet. 'I've got to get this place looking like a kitchen again and not a war zone and Mum, Ella and I are going to Sunbeam Cottage today to do some clearing up in preparation for the Hardman's arrival tomorrow. Assuming they can get here through this snow. But once we've done that, I can help around the farm.'
He raised his brows. 'With the chickens and cows?'
She nodded. 'Now's as good a time to start as any.'
He beamed at her. 'Did you fall over and hit your head without me realising? Determined to learn to cook? Willing to risk being eaten alive by a chicken or a cow? Are you sure?'
'Very funny. Yes. I'm sure.'
He nodded. 'Okay then. I think I'm going to like having you living here. And that's something I never thought I'd hear myself say about a woman.'
'Ah,' Ella said. 'But Mia's not just any woman, is she?'
Jet stared at Mia over the rim of his coffee mug. 'No. You can say that again. She definitely isn't.'
And although Mia wasn't one hundred per cent sure what he meant by that comment, from the look he was giving her, it sounded like something good. Something very, very good.
Chapter Seventeen
Cathy stiffened, staring at the ringing telephone. The first ring made her jump. The second sent a cold, unpleasant trickle of anxiety through her veins. The third made her give herself a reality check. It couldn't be him. He couldn't know they were here.
'Are you going to answer that?' Christy called out from the kitchen. 'It might be Mia to see if we survived the blizzard.' She popped her head around the doorway. 'Do you want me to get it?'
Cathy shook her head. 'No, I'll be fine. You're right. It won't be him. It can't be.' Gingerly, she picked up the receiver. 'Hello?'
'Morning. It's Mia. Is that Cathy?'
Cathy breathed a sigh of relief. 'Morning, Mia. Yes, it is. How are you?'
'Fine thanks, but more importantly, how are you? Did the cottage survive the onslaught?' There was a hint of laughter in Mia's voice, but it was obvious that she was genuinely concerned.
'No signs of damage as far as we can see,' Cathy said. 'Christy and I briefly nipped outside when we got up and the snowman on the roof looks a little drunk and the candy canes are all leaning to the left – but aren't we all?' She gave a little laugh. 'Other than that, everything looked fine. Daisy and Dylan are still fast asleep because they didn't get much sleep last night. Neither of them is used to the sounds old houses make and on top of that and the wind, Christy and I sat up with them past midnight.'
'Oh, I'm so sorry Cathy.' Mia sounded sincere.
Cathy smiled down the phone and cheerfully replied, 'It's not your fault, Mia. They forecasted the blizzard, so we should have been prepared. The minute the kids see how much snow there is outside this morning, last night will quickly be forgotten. And the cottage was so warm and cosy, especially with the roaring log fire. It may sound weird, but neither of the children has seen a real fire before, and they were fascinated by it. A couple of our friends have wood-burning stoves but they're not quite the same as an open fire in a hearth, are they? And that massive fireguard that locks into position meant they were perfectly safe.'
'It looks as though it may brighten up later,' Mia said. 'The forecast is for snow this morning but sunshine this afternoon, so hopefully your children will be able to build snowmen later.'
Cathy laughed. 'They'll be out there building snowmen the minute they finish breakfast, snow or not. Oh, and from the squeals of delight I've just heard from upstairs, I think I can say they're up and have looked out of the window.'
'I'd better let you go then,' Mia said. 'Don't forget to call us if you need anything. Have a lovely day.'
'Thanks. And you.' Cathy hung up the phone, smiled at Christy who was loitering in the hall, and ran up the stairs to the children's rooms.
'It's snowing, Mummy.' Daisy was kneeling on the window seat in her bedroom, with Dylan, who was shorter, standing beside her. Both of them were beaming as they peered through the window as if it were a doorway to paradise.
'There's lots of snow on the floor,' Dylan said, briefly glancing over her shoulder, eyes as wide as saucers.
'Lots of snow on the ground,' Cathy corrected, smiling. 'Why don't we get you both dressed and then, once you've had breakfast, we can all go outside and build snowmen, make snow angels and maybe throw a couple of little snowballs at your Mummy, Dylan.'
Dylan turned round again, her little mouth forming a perfect 'O' and her eyes alight with glee. She clapped her tiny hands together and her blonde curls bounced up and down as she did.
Christy, who had come upstairs to join them, tutted at Dylan. 'Don't jump up and down on someone else's furniture, darling. We're not at home now.' She playfully nudged Cathy out of the way and, dashing towards the window, she grabbed Dylan, lifted her high in the air and swung her round and round in a circle.
Dylan giggled and shrieked. 'Stop Mummy. Stop.' But when Christy did stop, Dylan looked disappointed and said, 'More Mummy. More.'
'Once more and then we've got to get you dressed.'
Cathy picked Daisy up and swung her in a half circle. 'Oh. You're such a big girl. Too grown-up for me to swing you round.' She beamed at her daughter and gave her a big, sloppy kiss. 'But not too big for me to eat you all up.'
Daisy laughed and pushed her hands against Cathy's shoulders. 'You're silly, Mummy.'
'I know.' Cathy put Daisy on the floor and crouched down to be at eye level. 'But you love me lots.'
She hugged Daisy tightly and Daisy threw her arms around Cathy's neck.
'Lots and lots, Mummy.'
Cathy closed her eyes and kissed Daisy's toffee-coloured locks, which were long and straight like her own hair. She hugged Daisy tightly and a lump formed in her throat. This was going to be their best Christmas for some time. She was going to make sure of that.
They had struggled financially over the last three years, and more so during the past few months. Cathy's parents had died when she was in her twenties, but when she married, she had been financially secure. She thought she'd be that way for life, but things can change in the blink of an eye, and they had certainly changed for Cathy.
Cathy's grandad had often helped her out, although she had never told him quite how bad things were. When he died, two months ago, he left her several thousand pounds, which she had eventually received last month after sorting out his will herself. He hadn't owned his own house, and his savings weren't enough to make her rich, but they were enough to change her and Daisy's lives for the better.
That was how they could afford this holiday, and paying for Christy and Dylan to come with them, had been Cathy's gift to her best friend. She had used some of the money to pay her debts and current bills and to finally clear her credit cards. She'd got herself a cheap, fairly old used car so that she had more freedom to get around and had also bought a few new clothes for Daisy.
But the best thing was, she had bought several of the gifts she knew her daughter wanted but didn't expect to get. Daisy might be young but she knew that they were poor. Cathy couldn't wait for Christmas morning to see Daisy's face light up. She hadn't gone overboard. Cathy had never been extravagant in her life, but Daisy deserved a few treats. She'd been through so much. They both had.
But perhaps the Christmas presents weren't the best things to come out of her grandad's money. Perhaps this holiday was. The fact that Daisy was going to be able to do all the things a child of her age should, and Cathy was going to do them with her, without feeling anxious every time the doorbell or the phone rang (although clearly that might take a day or two to get used to) and without having someone watching them, or turning up uninvited and then criticising Cathy's every move. And not just hers, but Daisy's too. The money gave her freedom. It gave them both a chance to start their lives anew.
'Come on you,' Chr
isty said, tapping Cathy playfully on the arm. 'Let's get these two dressed and fed so that we can all go outside and have some fun.'
Cathy opened her eyes and smiled up at her friend, nodding as she did so. 'Fun. Absolutely. Lots and lots of fun.'
And less than half an hour later they were doing precisely that.
It was still snowing, but the flakes were falling slowly and steadily without so much as a breath of wind to blow them off their downward trajectory. After the winds of last night, it was almost eerily quiet in the village this morning.
Being at the end of Lily Pond Lane, or start, depending on which way you looked at it, the front garden of Corner Cottage afforded a view all the way up the lane towards the pond, the pub and the church. No doubt in summer, this village could win any of the 'Prettiest Village in the UK' competitions; even now, covered in snow, the village was stunningly beautiful.
Yesterday, before the blizzard had started, Cathy looked out of the sitting room window across at the ice-covered pond glistening in the warm yellow lights from the lampposts. Strings of multi-coloured lights swayed gently between them, casting rainbow-like reflections on the snow and oddly enough, Cathy had felt at home.
But this was like no home she had ever lived in. She lived in Milton Keynes, or had until now, and that was about as opposite to this village in every way it was possible to be. If there were any thatched cottages in Milton Keynes, she hadn't seen them, and on the estate where she lived, an empty lane without another person in sight, was unheard of. Her street had been full of children riding bikes, kicking balls or playing tag, and adults chatting, walking their dogs, fixing their cars or tending to their tiny gardens.
Those things probably happened here too, but on a much, much smaller scale. And this morning, when she had woken up, once she had remembered where she was, she had lain in bed revelling in the silence which was broken only by the occasional burst of birdsong. As bizarre as it might seem, she felt as if her very soul was being healed. Even Christy had commented on how incredibly quiet it was first thing this morning when Cathy had taken her a cup of coffee at eight o'clock, and how lovely it was not to be woken by revving engines, blaring car horns, or hordes of noisy neighbours.
Christmas on Lily Pond Lane: A fabulously festive, heartwarming romance (a standalone in the Lily Pond Lane series) Page 9