Snowflakes and Cinnanmon Swirls at the Winter Wonderland

by Heidi Swain

  Praise for Heidi Swain:

  ‘More Christmassy than a week in Lapland – we loved it!’ heat magazine

  ‘Sprinkled with Christmas sparkle’ Trisha Ashley

  ‘Give yourself a Christmas treat and curl up with this magical book!’ Sue Moorcroft

  ‘A real Christmas cracker of a read!’ Penny Parkes

  ‘Cosy, Christmassy and deeply satisfying! Another wonderful read!’ Mandy Baggot

  ‘A fabulous feel good read – a ray of reading sunshine!’ Laura Kemp

  ‘Sparkling and romantic’ My Weekly

  ‘A story that captures your heart’ Chrissie Barlow

  ‘A sweet and lovely story. I guarantee you will fall in love with Heidi’s wonderful world’ Milly Johnson

  ‘Fans of Carole Matthews will enjoy this heartfelt novel’ Katie Oliver

  ‘Beautifully written, with a heroine I rooted for all the way . . . perfect to enjoy in the afternoon’ Jane Linfoot

  To Diane

  Passionate, inspiring and occasionally hilarious,

  She also happens to be my mum

  Chapter 1

  As I descended the stairs to the Wynthorpe Hall kitchen, the vacuum cleaner bumping along behind me, I couldn’t help but think about how eerily quiet the place seemed. As a rule, lunchtime was a bit of a free-for-all as the family, which included us staff, made a beeline for a place around the table to feast on whatever delicious fare the hall cook, Dorothy, had spent the morning preparing. I reasoned that the unusual silence would likely have something to do with Anna, something she had arranged, and I decided to play along with whatever my well-meaning friend had dreamt up. Though I was, for once, itching to get back to town.

  I had barely opened the door an inch before a rousing chorus of ‘Here Comes the Bride’ erupted. The vacuum was whisked from my grasp and the sounds of popping corks and party poppers filled the air.

  ‘You twits,’ I laughed, as Anna pulled me into a suffocating hug. ‘Tonight is just my engagement party, not my wedding day!’

  ‘We know that, Hayley,’ she said, squeezing me tighter, ‘this is just a little taster of what we’ll have lined up for you here at the hall when the big day finally dawns.’

  Anna had certainly pulled out all the stops. I knew there would be no one better to take on the roles of wedding planner and chief bridesmaid.

  ‘And when can we expect to see the handsome groom-to-be?’ asked Angus, handing me a champagne-filled crystal flute. ‘I take it the scorching scaffolder will be coming to pick you up?’

  Angus Connelly, the eccentric gent who was married to Catherine, the hall owner, had certainly found a fitting nickname for my fiancé.

  Gavin Garford, aka The Scorching Scaffolder, had been practically everyone’s crush when I was at high school, and the subsequent years – combined with his job erecting and dismantling scaffolding – had played their part in turning a teenage tearaway into a fine specimen of manhood.

  Gavin and his workmates had been called to Wynthorpe Hall earlier in the year to construct a scaffold tower that we all hoped would keep Angus safe while he worked at a height. Gavin had wasted no time in asking me out, and the whirlwind romance that led up to his autumn proposal certainly lived up to the steamy fantasies I’d had about him as a teenager.

  ‘I’m afraid not,’ I sighed, gently clinking my glass against Anna’s. ‘He’s working at the other side of Peterborough today and won’t be back until late this afternoon.’

  ‘Wouldn’t his boss let him take the day off?’ Jamie frowned. ‘There must be loads still to check over at the pub.’

  Clearly Jamie – Angus and Catherine’s youngest son, and heir to the hall – wasn’t particularly impressed by my beau’s absence.

  ‘We’re both well aware of that,’ I responded with a cheeky grin, ‘but some of us don’t have a grand family hall to live in. We have to work all the hours god sends to save up ridiculous deposits just to buy poky flats in town.’

  ‘Still no news on the affordable housing front?’ asked Mick, the hall handyman, who also lived on-site.

  ‘Not a word,’ I sighed. ‘At this rate we’ll be drawing our pensions before the council even approve the plans.’

  ‘You know you’re always welcome here,’ said Catherine, kindly. ‘We would be more than happy to accommodate you and Gavin if it meant you could secure your own home sooner.’

  Catherine had been offering me a room ever since my final year at school when I’d found myself pregnant and was abandoned by my parents when they couldn’t stand the shame. At the time, my nan had been working as a cleaner at the hall, and her untimely death, along with my miscarriage, had ensured my education had never been properly finished. I had gone home soon after Nan’s funeral, but I gratefully took over her job. I loved working with the antiques, paintings and curios and had become something of a self-taught expert in historical conservation.

  ‘Thank you, Catherine,’ I smiled at my kind-hearted employer, ‘I do know and, as always, I appreciate your generous offer—’

  ‘But you’re not going to accept it,’ Jamie cut in.

  ‘And be constantly on-hand to pick up your pants, Jamie Connelly?’ I batted back as Anna giggled and Dorothy tutted. ‘I don’t think so.’

  Washing the family’s clothes had never been part of my job description, but teasing Jamie about his slack habits with the laundry bin was far easier than explaining why I needed to be at home; Mum and I may have had our differences in the past, but I couldn’t leave her defenceless against Dad and his belligerent temper. I knew the time for me to move on would come at some point, but not just yet.

  ‘And besides,’ I cunningly added, ‘we’ll be into November next week. You’ll no doubt be too busy planning for Christmas and packed to the rafters with more family and friends than you’ll know what to do with, won’t you?’

  Moving the conversation on to Christmas was a masterstroke on my part. The mere mention of it had Angus bobbing up and down in his seat. I focused my attention on devouring Dorothy’s delicious sandwiches to soak up the fizz, barely listening to the ideas Angus was rattling off, until the words ‘Winter Wonderland’ were spoken and I looked up to see Catherine’s face fall.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ she said sternly.

  ‘But—’

  ‘No, Angus,’ she said again. ‘We’re going to be stretched to our limit as it is, what with the addition of the Christmas tree competition and the party on top of the usual sleigh rides.’

  ‘What Christmas tree competition?’ I asked, pushing my plate away.

  ‘Have you not been listening at all?’ tutted Anna with a smile. ‘We’re hosting the tree-decorating competition this year because the church has so many December weddings booked that they haven’t got room for all the trees amongst the pews.’

  ‘It’s going to be spectacular,’ Angus joined in. Clearly, he could already picture it. ‘There were almost thirty trees last year, all decorated by a different community group. The one from the hardware store was a triumph, covered in mini tools and DIY materials. I thought it was the best by far.’

  ‘What with that and the party to raise funds for the charity,’ Catherine was quick to remind her husband, ‘I hardly think we’ll have the time or the manpower to establish this Winter Wonderland you’ve dreamt up.’

  ‘But as you just reminded us, Mum, we do already have the sleigh,’ said Jamie, catching his father’s eye, ‘and none of what Dad has in mind would encroach on the hall. Just a couple of extra tweaks outside and we could be in business.’

  ‘We could have a snow machine,’ said Angus, wistfully.


  ‘Are you joining ranks with your father, Jamie?’ asked Anna.

  She sounded as surprised as the rest of us were no doubt feeling.

  ‘Well,’ Jamie swallowed, ‘the charity is going to be closed throughout December so we could use the space in the courtyard, and we’ll have an extra pair of hands on-site to help out by then. A very practical pair of hands.’

  Anna and Catherine raised their eyebrows in perfect synchronicity and I thought it was just as well that the charity, which supported bereaved children and young adults, was going to be closed if such extravagant festive plans were afoot.

  ‘I’m not siding with him exactly,’ Jamie mumbled. ‘I just don’t think it would be all that tricky to set up, that’s all.’

  That was as good as a green light to Angus, and I could already tell that a manic few weeks lay ahead. I might have drawn the focus away from my refusal of Catherine’s offer but, in the process, I’d opened up one heck of a can of tinsel-toting worms.

  ‘So, who does this extra pair of hands belong to then?’ asked Molly, who had suddenly appeared in the doorway, her wild pre-Raphaelite hair framing her pretty face.

  Molly, with her white witch tendencies, had a spooky knack for popping up out of nowhere. She always looked to me as if she floated on a cushion of air, not setting her feet on solid ground like the rest of us mere mortals.

  ‘Is it someone who is going to be passing through or someone who is staying for good?’

  ‘Since when did anyone get away with passing through?’ laughed Mick, as he pointed first at himself, then me, Dorothy and finally, Anna.

  We had all arrived at the hall on the understanding that we wouldn’t stay long, but that wasn’t how things worked here. Once Catherine, Angus, the dogs and the hall had found their way into our hearts, we were hooked – for good.

  ‘That’s true,’ Molly laughed, claiming the seat next to me and giving me an incense-scented hug. ‘I just wanted to pop in to wish you good luck for tonight, Hayley, in case I don’t get a chance later.’

  ‘Thanks, Molly,’ I smiled, squeezing her back.

  I appreciated the fact that she had left the cosy confines of her cottage in the woods, but I really didn’t need luck. It had been Molly herself who had read my tarot cards in the spring and had told me love would feature dramatically in my life before the end of the year. I admit I had been dismissive at the time, but then Gavin had turned up in his too-tight vest and set my heart pounding. Sure, he had a reputation, but who didn’t? As far as I could tell, he was the person Molly had predicted, and his timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

  ‘So, who’s coming to stay?’ Molly asked again.

  ‘A pal of mine,’ explained Jamie. ‘Someone I’ve known for ages and worked with out in Africa. He’s visited here before, too, but that was years ago. He’s agreed to take on the outdoor activities we offer at the centre, as well as adding a few more of his own design.’

  ‘I thought you were in charge of all that, Mick?’

  ‘I have been,’ he said, ‘but I’m not getting any younger and this chap has other skills Jamie can put to good use.’

  ‘You aren’t being put out to grass are you?’ I teased.

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘of course not. I just want to get back into the garden. The students from the horticultural college coming out every week have made a massive difference, and Catherine and I think now’s the time to think about a proper renovation.’

  He sounded needled that I had suggested he was on the wind-down to retirement, so I winked to show I was only teasing.

  ‘You don’t change, do you, missy?’ He tutted, shaking his head. ‘I hope with a wedding to plan you’ll soon be more interested in your own goings-on than everyone else’s.’

  I laughed at that.

  ‘I wouldn’t hold your breath,’ I told him. ‘And on the topic of other people’s business, does this pal of yours bring some tragic baggage with him, Jamie?’ It was an unwritten rule – more of an assumption now – that everyone who turned up at the hall had some heartbreak they needed to heal from. We all had a sob story to tell.

  ‘More to the point: when is he coming and where is he going to be staying? I’ll need to get cracking if I have rooms to prepare.’

  ‘He’ll be with us by the end of next month,’ Jamie explained, ‘and he’s moving into the gatekeeper’s cottage, so if you could give it an airing, that would be great.’

  I noticed he hadn’t responded about his friend’s baggage, but I didn’t quiz him further. I was sure it would all come out at some point. It always did, whether we wanted it to or not.

  ‘I’ll set a fire going first thing tomorrow,’ I told him, ‘and I’ll open the windows to get the air moving, that way the weather won’t have a chance to take hold and make it feel damp.’

  ‘And in the meantime, Hayley,’ said Anna, pushing back her chair, ‘we need to get you to town so you can prepare for your engagement party tonight. Are you ready?’

  ‘As I’ll ever be,’ I smiled, taking a deep breath as I prepared to meet my fate.

  Chapter 2

  ‘I’m home!’ I called out as I shoved the back door open with my shoulder, slammed it shut again and dumped my bag on the table. ‘You still haven’t fixed the door, then?’

  I didn’t shout out the bit about the door. My dad and his moods were always tricky to gauge when you didn’t have eyes on him. These days, his temper came down to how well he’d fared playing the online gambling sites he favoured.

  ‘But I’m not going to be here long!’ I added, reaching for the kettle and checking the clock. ‘I want to make sure everything’s set up at the pub before I start thinking about what to wear.’

  Anna, Molly and I had been on a shopping trip to Norwich to pick out outfits for the party, but I still wasn’t convinced that the rather demure dress we’d settled on was really right for me. I was more of a tight top and skinny jeans kind of girl.

  ‘But what about my dinner?’ came Dad’s gruff voice.

  ‘Evelyn’s laying on a buffet,’ I reminded him, ‘there’ll be plenty to eat. Where’s Mum?’

  ‘She said she was going straight up to the home after she’d finished at school.’

  Dad didn’t work. I could barely remember him leaving the house during daylight hours to go anywhere other than the pub or the bookies, but Mum had always managed to hold down a variety of jobs. School cleaner, dinner lady – or midday supervisor as they were now called – and nursing home housekeeping assistant, was the current combination.

  Living at home with the Hurren family was nothing like being at work with the Connellys, but I managed to juggle the two contrasting parts of my life. Most of the time.

  As much as I longed to take up Catherine’s kind offer, I knew Mum would be lost without me acting as the buffer that she needed when Dad had been on a bender and gambled away his beer money.

  ‘Are you going to sort me out some dinner, then, or what?’ Dad barked.

  ‘I just told you there’s going to be a buffet.’

  ‘Titchy sandwiches and those stinking devilled eggs Evelyn keeps churning out?’ he moaned. ‘I’m going to need something more substantial than that to see me through the night.’

  Given his tone, I’d say the casinos hadn’t played in his favour. I had a cursory look in the fridge, flicked the kettle off again and reached into my bag for my purse.

  ‘I’ll nip down to the chippy,’ I said, resignedly, knowing I’d have to shelve my trip to The Mermaid. ‘They should have the fryers on by now.’

  ‘Make mine a large cod,’ Dad called back.

  I took my annoyance out on the dodgy back door and headed up the road into town.

  ‘Large cod, large chips and a couple of bread rolls, please Sharon,’ I requested as I rifled through my purse to see if I could cobble together enough change. The Connelly family paid well, but stretching out my wages to accommodate an appetite as large as my father’s wasn’t always easy.

 
‘I can’t believe you’ve got room in those jeans to squeeze that lot in,’ said a familiar voice close to my ear. ‘And I thought you were cutting back on carbs until we’ve been up the aisle?’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I laughed, spinning round and finding myself face to face with a wall of firm chest. ‘I thought you were supposed to be working late this afternoon?’

  ‘I wanted to surprise you.’ Gavin grinned, pinning me with his piercing blue gaze before planting a passionate kiss on my lips in full view of everyone.

  ‘And you made a detour to the chippy because . . .?’

  ‘I wanted to pick up some dinner for your dad,’ he cut in. ‘You know as well as I do that if he hasn’t got his belly full he’ll be a miserable sod all night, and I’m not having him spoil our party because the sandwiches are too small.’

  That was typical Gavin. He was always coming up with things to smooth the way in the Hurren household. We’d barely started dating before he’d worked out that fresh flowers were the way to Mum’s heart, while Dad was always happier to see him when he turned up with a pack of lagers tucked under his arm.

  ‘Are you still meeting the lads for pre-drinks?’ I asked, keeping my tone light as I started counting out change.

  I was none too impressed with the idea, but Gavin’s mates had insisted that, if they were losing their leader, then they were going to send him off in style. I had tried to suggest that sort of thing would be best saved for the stag night they were already planning in Dublin, but they hadn’t listened.

  ‘Nope,’ said Gavin, handing a crisp twenty pound note over to Sharon, who couldn’t resist batting her lashes at him even though she knew he was well and truly spoken for.

  ‘Seriously?’ I frowned.

  ‘Seriously,’ he grinned. ‘I told them I’m going to be with you right from the off tonight. My place is next to you now, Hayley.’

  ‘Mum?’ I called when I arrived back and found her coat flung over the back of a chair.

  ‘I’ll be down in a minute.’

  I grabbed two plates and set about filling one and adding a handful of chips and the extra bread roll to the other.