A Country Village Christmas

by Suzanne Snow

  ‘You’d hardly know I was there, I’ve already done most of the clearing up.’

  ‘Actually, maybe I did say you were lovely to Ellie.’ Olivia threw him a glance as she walked down the hall, his chuckle following. ‘Maybe I wasn’t just referring to your cooking.’

  Olivia had poured beer for both Logan and Ellie and red wine for her and Tom by the time the young couple joined them. She couldn’t miss Ellie’s speculative look on her as she and Tom moved easily around the room without hindering the other. Ellie helped her lay the table whilst Tom put the finishing touches to the meal he had prepared for them.

  He and Logan were chatting about Australia and the little town where Logan was from, which Tom had apparently visited when he’d toured there years ago with a theatre company. The atmosphere between the four of them was already so much easier than it could have been. That it would happen for one weekend only was an unpleasant thought Olivia didn’t want to linger on tonight.

  Tom had cooked chunky sausages filled with black pudding and treacle and they were perfect for a winter’s night, with plenty of parsnip and potato mash, thick onion gravy and a nod to the season with sprouts he’d sautéed in bacon. Olivia tried not to watch him too obviously, her glass of wine in hand. She could feel Ellie’s eyes on her occasionally and knew she would have some explaining to do if she wasn’t careful.

  The meal was amazing and they all fell on it ravenously, Ellie and Logan having two helpings of everything and constantly hungry it seemed to Olivia. She’d provided the dessert and took the jokes in good spirit when everyone, including Tom, teased her about the marmalade and whisky bread and butter pudding she had picked up from The Courtyard instead of making something herself. She caught Tom’s eye at one point and guessed from the way he was trying to hide a smile that he too was thinking of their failed attempts at mince pie baking.

  Olivia cleared up whilst everyone else stayed at the table, and it wasn’t long before Ellie and Logan wanted to go and explore the village. Olivia promised to have hot drinks ready for their return and they were back within an hour, cold, with skin flushed from the chill, and laughing. She made everyone a hot toddy and it was late when they all finally headed up to bed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘So Mum, anything to tell me?’

  It was just after nine and Ellie was sharing with breakfast with Olivia in the kitchen. Logan was still in bed and Tom was already writing, politely refusing their request that he join them so the two women could have some time alone.

  ‘You said he was lovely but you forgot to mention he was such a fox. I saw the way you two were looking at each other last night.’

  Hastily, Olivia tried to shush Ellie before her clear voice reached Tom in the library. ‘It’s not like that, Ellie. He’s a friend of your grandad’s and yes, I’d say we’ve become friends too. But that’s it.’

  ‘Seriously? You’re not going to do anything about it?’

  ‘About what?’ Olivia stood up to fetch more coffee, hoping she sounded casual enough.

  ‘About the way you are together! You two look happier here, pottering about the kitchen, than some couples who’ve been living in the same house for years.’

  ‘That’s only because Tom’s doing most of the cooking and he enjoys it, so it makes sense he’d be comfortable in here. And pottering, Ellie, really? You make us sound ancient.’

  ‘Whatever.’ Ellie jumped up to put more bread in the toaster. ‘You’re not getting any younger Mum, and he’s really nice. It would make a change from swiping through profiles for a date.’

  ‘I don’t…’

  ‘Swipe through profiles? Maybe it’s time you started again.’

  ‘Ellie.’ Olivia tried to keep the exasperation from her voice. ‘I simply don’t have time. You know how busy I am with work and then there’s this place to sort out. And your grandad to keep an eye on.’

  ‘Excuses. You can have a life of your own, you know, Mum.’ Ellie had buttered the toast and was at the door, giving Olivia a cheeky grin. ‘Ask yourself how often nice people you actually like spending time with come around. Plus you’re crap in the kitchen so I wouldn’t be knocking Tom back if I were you.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’m not you,’ Olivia muttered as her daughter hurried upstairs, taking the toast to Logan. ‘And I wasn’t always crap in the kitchen.’

  Sometimes she wished she still did have Ellie’s easy confidence and assurance that life would mostly work itself out to its best advantage. She’d done all she could to create a family life for Ellie, encouraged the relationship with her father, such as it was, and hadn’t allowed anyone else close enough to disrupt their lives, to zoom in and then fly out again. Olivia couldn’t regret that; she’d rather have been on her own all these years and established a career than have someone take Ellie to heart only to leave them both again.

  It was time to change the Twitter Christmas book so Olivia knocked gently on the library door. Her dad had asked Tom to choose and she hoped he wouldn’t mind the interruption. When Tom called for her to come in, she opened the door and immediately felt the chill of the room, though she was warmed the moment he smiled at her.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hi. Sorry, is this a good moment to talk about the Christmas hashtag? We could do with updating Twitter before the shop opens.’

  ‘Sure. My killer can wait.’ Tom pushed his chair back from the desk and Olivia went to the window seat, drawing her cardigan more closely around her. ‘I’ve got my suggestion if you want to hear it.’

  ‘Of course, I’d love it. Only if you’re happy, though.’

  ‘I am, really. What do you think about Tolkien’s Letters from Father Christmas?’

  ‘I don’t know much about it, to be honest. But it sounds perfect from the title.’

  ‘Tolkien wrote letters to his children every December pretending to be from Father Christmas and it was published posthumously. It’s a small book and really charming, which fits with our previous choices. I had a copy when I was a kid, but I don’t know where it went.’ Tom paused, nostalgic for a second. ‘I think my favourite letter is when Tolkien wrote about the reindeers escaping and the North Polar Bear turning on two years’ worth of Northern Lights all in one go.’

  ‘It sounds fantastic.’ Olivia had never read it. ‘What do you want me to say?’

  ‘About me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Guest bookseller? Writer in residence? Friend of your dad’s? What do you think? As my publicist.’ Tom shrugged.

  ‘As your publicist I’d be saying full-on Tom Bellingham choosing Christmas books in the little shop where he’s based himself to write.’ She paused. ‘As your friend, I’d say let’s decide on something you’re comfortable with and leave it at that. Friend of my dad’s sounds good.’

  ‘How about, “Today’s book was chosen by Tom, friend of Hugh, a writer and a reader”? That way I’m not hiding but I’m not shouting about it either.’

  ‘Perfect. I’ll show you before I tweet it.’ Olivia got up, conscious of not wanting to keep Tom from his work any longer. ‘Any idea where I might lay my hands on a copy? I’d like to have a look, find something to say about it.’ She gestured to the bookshelves around the room, stacked high and reaching to the ceiling. ‘Might be quicker than me having to go searching.’

  ‘Actually I found one in the shop and I’ve been reading it. New old traditions and all that. It takes me back to being that kid again, remembering the magic of Christmas.’

  If she had been nearer, Olivia would have touched him, placed a hand on his shoulder to show him she understood the mix of emotions he was feeling, reflecting on a time that was equal parts bitter and sweet.

  Tom turned back to his laptop, and she knew it was time to leave him. ‘It’s beside my bed if you want to see it.’

  ‘You don’t mind? I can wait.’

  ‘No, go ahead.’ His reply now was distracted, quick. ‘I’m fairly certain I haven’t left anything lying around I wouldn’
t want you to find.’

  ‘Sure? I’m easily shocked.’

  ‘I doubt that. The night you rescued me comes to mind.’

  She heard his chuckle as she left the room to run up the stairs, bumping into Logan halfway. Ever since Olivia had first met him, she’d always thought he’d perfected the student art of seeming as though he’d been awake all through the night and had slept the day away. He gave her a sleepy grin as they exchanged greetings. Ellie had persuaded him to go for a walk and he was already wearing a hat and clutching a thick jumper.

  She almost knocked on Tom’s door, stopping herself at the last moment. The room was tidy and she noticed a pile of paperbacks beside the neatly made double bed. This was her dad’s best guest room, with its floral wallpaper, carpet decorated with a swirly pattern and the sash window that always used to stick.

  Tom’s navy sweater was slung across an armchair, a couple of pairs of shoes close by, and she looked over the books, searching for the Tolkien one. She soon found it and left the room, closing the door quietly. Ellie appeared on the landing and her face split into a wide grin as she spotted Olivia.

  ‘Seriously, Mum? That was quick work, we only spoke like, fifteen minutes ago.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Olivia didn’t mean to sound huffy, and she waved the book in her hand. ‘I needed a copy of this, and Tom said I would find it in his room. I’ve never been in there before. I mean, at the same time as Tom. In his room.’

  ‘Whatever.’ Ellie ignored that reply as well. ‘Me and Logan are going out, we’ll be back for lunch. Tom mentioned something about you making it?’

  ‘Oh, did he?’ Olivia was smiling as they crossed the landing. ‘So it’s a good thing I’ve already bought soup and fresh sourdough from The Courtyard.’

  ‘Then we’d like to help in the shop for a bit this afternoon.’ Ellie was already running down the stairs. ‘Tom said he would be opening up and that Logan and I were welcome to hang around.’

  ‘You and Tom seem to have everything sorted.’ They were in the hall now and Logan appeared, clutching another piece of toast and trying to get his coat on with one hand. ‘Is there anything else I need to know?’

  ‘We’re still eating in the pub tonight, right?’ Ellie gave Olivia a quizzical look and Olivia nodded. ‘Good, ’cause I’ve booked a table for four. Tom said he’d like to come.’ She grinned as Logan joined her and opened the front door. ‘It’s a date, Mum, you can thank me later.’

  Olivia didn’t know whether to laugh or be cross at being so completely outmanoeuvred by her twenty-two-year-old daughter. She’d planned to invite Tom to join them this evening anyway, she didn’t like to think of him sitting alone in the house if he didn’t want to.

  But Ellie had obviously got there first and now it felt more like a double date than dinner with family and a friend, and that was absurd. But she was still wondering about what she might wear when Tom joined her in the kitchen a little later to make coffee. He poured a cup for her too and she thanked him.

  ‘Come and look at this.’ She held up her phone and Tom came to stand next to her. ‘The tweet.’

  She’d borrowed a small figure of Father Christmas from the tree in the sitting room, found a fountain pen and a sheet of writing paper, taken some images of them on a coffee table and chosen the one she liked the best:

  Our fourth #BradshawsBooksAtChristmas is Tolkien’s #LettersToFatherChristmas chosen by Tom, a reader, writer and a friend of Hugh. Let us know what you think of the North Polar Bear and his antics…

  ‘Perfect, thank you. Love the imagery.’ Tom touched her shoulder before disappearing back to the library with his coffee.

  Lunch was a success, mainly thanks to the easy conversations the four of them already seemed to be sharing, and the spicy chorizo soup which Olivia served with chunks of sourdough laden with creamy salted butter. Logan couldn’t get enough, and he and Ellie teased each other about his lack of cooking skills, reminding Olivia of her and Tom.

  Ellie’s words from this morning were still in her mind as Tom cleared up, waving away Ellie’s offer to help. The two students seemed to leave a trail of belongings wherever they went, from coats and hats to phone chargers and boots and bags, making Olivia smile. Yet another thing that made the house feel lived in.

  Afterwards Tom crossed the garden to open the annexe and Olivia didn’t know what to do with herself, which was a shock. Her clients seemed to be taking her at her word, that she really was on annual leave, and her inbox wasn’t piled as high as it normally would be, even without the services of an out of office message.

  She’d only had two calls that couldn’t wait from her assistant, and her client in the States had finally signed the contracts on their new home, which was a relief all round. Someone else in the company would now take over, smoothing their path as plans were prepared to ship the contents of their house from the USA to northern England.

  Olivia supposed she should be emptying cupboards and loading the car with more stuff to be recycled, but she really couldn’t be bothered. Christmas Day was only a week or so away and she was seriously thinking that the clearance would have to wait until the New Year, and she’d deal with everything then. She was supposed to be on holiday after all, and the house sale wouldn’t be final for a number of weeks yet.

  So instead she wandered down to the bookshop, which felt a little full with two potential customers plonked on the chairs, hardbacks in hand, and Ellie and Logan sorting through books that Tom had suggested needed dumping. The Christmas playlist was offering up Carols from King’s and the tree on the floor twinkled a greeting. Olivia thought it all looked wonderful, including Tom in her approval. He was standing behind the desk, going through a pile of books on poetry, and he held one up when he saw her.

  ‘Ever read this?’

  She took it, her fingers brushing his. ‘Not for years.’ It was a Christmas anthology of children’s poems in hardcover. ‘My dad used to read it to me when I was little.’

  ‘Maybe consider it for the hashtag, then?’

  ‘Good idea, I’ll take it back to the house when I go.’

  ‘So what are you doing here?’ Tom was flicking through another book on the desk. His question sounded innocent enough but she heard the slightly lowered tone, saw the flash of his eyes on hers. ‘Still checking out what it takes to be a bookseller?’

  ‘I might be.’ She glanced across the shop in case Ellie caught her staring at Tom. Her daughter needed no further encouragement to matchmake. ‘Perhaps my own experience in that field is a bit lacking.’

  ‘I’ll be opening up again next week if you’re free. For more experience.’

  ‘Are you still talking about bookselling?’ Olivia saw the quick pursing of his lips that told her he liked their teasing, the bantering they always seemed to share.

  ‘In theory.’

  Two more people arrived, and it was all getting a bit of a squeeze so Olivia left them to it and went back to the house. She began to clear some of the chaos from her own room, sorting through old books and stuff she didn’t want to keep. Gina messaged in the middle of it all and Olivia was happy to stop and chat.

  She told Gina about Tom staying in the house and her friend was agog, wanting to know more about him and what he was like to live with. Gina was another who could spot a potential date at fifty paces, and she’d be haring over even sooner to meet Tom if Olivia so much as hinted that there might be something between them. She laughed when Gina sent her a gif of Tom from his days as Harrington with a mischievous message, and she couldn’t resist the temptation to save it.

  Later Olivia wished she had a bit more of Ellie’s carefree attitude as she changed for the evening, trying not to feel as though she were dressing for a date. She chose a long-sleeved cardigan to wear on its own as a top, with skinny navy jeans tucked into her favourite brown leather boots. It was more or less what she’d already been planning for tonight and she definitely didn’t want to appear as though she’d made a special ef
fort.

  She applied her usual foundation and a stroke of blusher on her pale skin. Eyeliner as well as mascara was her only nod to the evening being slightly more special than her usual nights in with Tom, and she finished with a matte lipstick she didn’t often wear, in a shade below plum. Ellie was always trying to persuade her to try more reds but tonight wasn’t the time to begin experimenting with something new.

  The two men were waiting in the hall when Ellie and Olivia walked downstairs. Olivia felt caught in Tom’s gaze, liked being the focus of his attention and saw the swift glint of approval he didn’t need to voice.

  The four of them walked around the top of the green to the pub in time for their booking at seven. Ellie and Logan settled at a corner table whilst Olivia went to the bar with Tom. She hadn’t been in the pub for ages and looked around with interest. Off-white walls were dotted with landscape prints, interspersed with more modern art, and she recognised one of the artists’ work from the paintings her dad had in his sitting room. Functional tables were scattered across stone-flagged floors between the bar and a slightly more formal room on the opposite side of the central door.

  Not for this building the modern sophistication of the pub with Tom from a few weeks ago, but it was comfortable and had a reputation for great food. The roaring fire was offering welcome and warmth from the sharp winter night outside, and Olivia could already see Logan huddled as close to it as he could get.

  Their drinks collected, Olivia and Tom returned to the table. Somehow she ended up sitting on the comfortable bench along the wall with Ellie next to her, leaving the two men opposite, and Ellie and Logan were already holding hands across the table. Menus were handed around and Logan couldn’t resist a full Christmas dinner with all the trimmings, quite different to the fish and steak he usually enjoyed with his family back at home in Australia on Christmas Eve. Ellie opted to join him as neither were planning to eat turkey once they were in Tobago.