A Surprise Christmas Wedding: from the best selling author of A Perfect Cornish Christmas comes one of the most feel-good winter romance books of 2020

by Phillipa Ashley

  ‘No, there’s no need. It’s taken care of. I offered to pay for the tree for your family, but Shayla wouldn’t hear of it. So, it’s on the house – literally.’

  ‘That’s lovely,’ she said, touched by his gesture. ‘If you’re sure. That was very kind of you.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said. ‘Oh, and if it isn’t too late, I’d definitely like to accept that invitation to the staff ball.’

  Lottie resisted punching the air. ‘OK. That’s great. I’ll add you to the list.’

  ‘I’m not too late, am I?’

  ‘Mmm … just in the nick of time.’ It was another little white lie. She’d actually sent the final numbers only half an hour before but she could send another email adding him. The caterers would forgive her this one time. ‘I’ll send you the menu straightaway but I’ll need it back immediately, if that’s all right?’

  ‘That’s fine. I’m sorry I messed you around.’

  ‘It’s OK.’ Her phone buzzed in her hand. From force of habit, she glanced at it and her mood sank. It was another text from Connor.

  Did u get my message?

  C x

  ‘I’d um – better get back to work,’ Jay said. ‘You must be very busy.’

  Before she had time to say that she wasn’t too busy to talk to him, he was off, striding towards the forest.

  Mindful of the slim possibility that Keegan might read Connor’s text, she was very careful with her reply.

  Message received. Why not phone re the matter we discussed.

  Her thumb hovered over the send button. There, that ought to be cryptic enough for Connor to explain away if Keegan did see it. Even as that thought went through her head, Lottie realised once again that she was being sucked in further to a tissue of deception and subterfuge.

  Another thought struck her. One that brought a shiver of excitement, followed by guilt and unease. Was Connor playing with her emotions on purpose? Perhaps having Keegan besotted with him wasn’t enough and he also didn’t want to let go of Lottie herself. Lottie hesitated a moment longer before pressing send. She couldn’t really believe Connor still had feelings for her … but she couldn’t resist finding out either.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Come on, mate. Let’s do this.’ Jay let Trevor out of his car and jogged up the path to the front door of his parents’ neat cottage in Ambleside. He and Trevor sheltered in the porch from the lashing rain while the bell rang out in the hall. He could do this.

  It was Tuesday and his day off, and he’d decided he should put it to good use and visit his parents.

  And here he was.

  He’d sat outside the house for a while, working up the courage to go in. There was no sign of Ben visiting, and why would there be when Ben was at work? Even so, he wanted to be sure. Trevor had sat patiently in the footwell, resting his head on the seat, gazing at Jay, as if to say: ‘Well, are you going to let me out or not?’

  Trevor’s tail thumped against the porch at the sound of voices inside the house. Jay’s pulse speeded up too.

  His mum answered, the ‘o’ on her face and smile showing her amazement and pleasure. It must have been a month since he’d seen them and yet they were only half an hour from Firholme.

  ‘Jay, what a lovely surprise. And Trevor too. We’re honoured. We didn’t expect you. We know how busy you are at this time of year.’

  ‘Hi, Mum.’ He kissed her cheek as Trevor shot up the hall, snuffling in delight.

  His dad appeared from the kitchen, wearing a flowery apron, a teacloth in his hand. The scent of fruit and baking wafted down the hall, making Jay’s mouth water. It was the scent of family Christmases … and after all, it was now December.

  ‘Hello, son,’ his dad said, wiping suds from his hands with the tea towel. ‘To what do we owe this honour?’

  ‘I thought I’d drop by while I could. We’ve been rushed off our feet with the Christmas tree sales.’ He thought of Lottie’s face when he’d mentioned the tree. It had lifted him to do something nice for her, however small – he didn’t think he’d be here now, if it wasn’t for her.

  ‘I bet you are,’ his mum said, stroking Trevor.

  His dad tutted. ‘Always strikes me as ironic that those involved in spreading the festive spirit are too knackered to enjoy it themselves.’

  ‘Everyone wants a tree, Dad.’

  ‘I always get the artificial one out.’

  ‘Oh, bah humbug, Phil!’ his mum said. ‘We could get a real one from Firholme this year.’

  ‘I’m entitled to a free one,’ Jay said, following them into the lounge where a few early Christmas cards had already been arranged on the mantelpiece.

  ‘Don’t you want it?’ his mother said.

  ‘Not really. I don’t have room in my cottage.’

  She eyed him sharply. ‘Mm … well, if you really don’t need it, then yes we’d love to have a tree. Wouldn’t we, Phil?’

  ‘Yes.’ His father looked doubtful. ‘Will it shed loads of needles?’

  ‘Not if you water it regularly,’ Jay said.

  ‘Of course, we’ll take care of it. It can be your dad’s job.’ She smiled and even Jay was amused. ‘Tea or coffee?’

  ‘Coffee please. Milk and sugar … and um, have you made any mince pies yet?’

  His mum rolled her eyes. ‘You know we have. You must be able to smell them.’

  He smiled. ‘I can.’

  She laughed. ‘Some things never change. No matter how many I make, they’re always gobbled up before I can blink!’

  Jay and his dad shared a look that left them both in no doubt of who ate all the pies. While his dad made a fuss of Trevor, and they talked about work, his mum made the drinks, refusing any help. Jay guessed she was hoping he and his dad might find some time to ‘bond’.

  She was soon back with a tray of pies, hot drinks and a dog chew for Trevor, who happily settled on the hearth rug. The pie was delicious, with home-made mincemeat and crumbly rich pastry. It seemed to taste better than he even remembered.

  It was just like any other visit he’d made, except that the whole time, he was wondering if or when they were going to bring up the incident in the pub with Ben.

  He was midway through the final morsel of pie when his mum said, ‘Will you come for Christmas dinner?’

  He couldn’t be surprised that she’d asked. Christmas Day was less than four weeks away and after all, he’d come round to deal with this very issue.

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t be here at the same time as Ben and Nadia.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ his dad said. ‘We had hoped that after so long, you might have reconciled yourself to the idea.’

  So long? he thought. The idea? Jay forced himself to give a calm answer. All his parents wanted was for their family to be at peace but Jay knew things could never be the same. However, Lottie had reminded him how important family was so he’d come to offer a small olive branch.

  Jay put his plate on the coffee table. ‘Look, Dad, I’m happy that Seb is doing well. He’s a lovely little boy. I’ve no doubt that Ben and Nadia love him and are a great mum and dad, but I’m not ready to play happy families yet. In time, maybe the situation might improve but there’s no point pretending that things can ever be the same.’

  ‘We’re not expecting everything to be the same,’ his mum said patiently. ‘But we were hoping you’d still be able to join us for Christmas dinner? Ben and Nadia are bringing Seb round to open his presents in the evening but we’ve already discussed the fact that it would be too much to expect us all to sit round the dinner table as usual.’

  Jay was wrong-footed that he’d already been ‘discussed’ by the rest of the family. ‘I don’t want to keep them away from you.’

  ‘No … but you’re on your own, son, and I’m sure they’ll be happy to have their own little family celebration as it’s their first Christmas together.’

  Jay’s stomach churned. His dad meant well, but did he realise he was rubbing salt into his wound
s by referring to his solitary lifestyle, even if it was partly self-imposed?

  His dad patted his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry for what Ben did. It was a terrible betrayal but time heals and if you can get through this Christmas, I’m sure things will become easier.’

  Jay caught his breath. In the past few weeks, it was true that he’d glimpsed a light ahead and moved towards it. He’d already known he had to get out of a dark hole of bitterness and cynicism and Lottie had helped him take the steps forward. He still thought his dad had no idea of how Ben’s actions had destroyed their bond, but he wanted to be kind to his parents and not reject them again.

  ‘Look, as long as it’s OK with you both, I’d love to come for Christmas lunch.’

  His dad let out a breath. ‘Good, because we can’t stand the thought of you moping about in that draughty cottage on Christmas Day.’

  ‘I do have Trevor,’ he said.

  ‘It’s not the same,’ his mum said.

  ‘He gives me less trouble than some people!’ At the curt remark, his mother’s eyes glistened with unshed tears and Jay hated himself. In his own way, he’d caused them as much pain as Ben had although he still didn’t know how he could have reacted any differently.

  ‘It’s not good for you to shut yourself away. What’s done is done and it’s time to move on.’ His father was obviously frustrated.

  ‘OK, Phil, Jay knows that but it isn’t easy, is it?’ His mum took his hand. ‘It’s a big blow to get over. You must understand though, Jay, that we’re stuck in the middle and we feel that in some ways, we’ve lost you both.’

  He felt the sting of tears behind his own eyes. His mother understood him better than he’d realised. ‘I’ll look forward to the day,’ he said.

  He forced a smile to his face. ‘Trevor will too.’

  Trevor lifted his head and cocked it on one side.

  ‘We can’t wait,’ his mum said, brightening up.

  He stayed a while longer, talking about Christmas plans and steering clear of anything that might sour the mood.

  ‘Have to go, Mum. I promised Trevor a walk on Latrigg before I go back to Firholme.’

  ‘Isn’t it a bit wet?’ his father asked.

  ‘We’ll be fine. C’mon, Trev. Let’s be off.’

  He made a swift exit, with an agreement to bring round his parents’ tree when he next had a day off. It was strange but the idea of one of ‘his’ trees in the family home gave him a sense of quiet pride. Small victories, he thought. He’d take anything after the year he’d had.

  He walked up the fellside in pouring rain that was turning to sleet, having to cut Trevor’s walk short because of the conditions. Despite the shitty weather, his heart was a little lighter. There seemed to be an unwitting conspiracy among everyone he knew to help him ‘move on’. His parents, Lottie, even her nieces. All of them kept nudging him back to the ‘real world’ of family and normality.

  He wasn’t relishing the idea of Christmas Day. He knew his parents would try to engineer a reconciliation again and that his mother would find it impossible not to regret the lack of family members, her grandson in particular, around the dinner table.

  Yet he couldn’t reject them. He kept thinking: What would Lottie do?

  There was no denying he felt much brighter. She’d already had quite an influence on him. It was her reminder of how much family mattered that had prompted him to make a kind of peace with his parents.

  She’d also – somehow – not only persuaded him to go to the staff ball, but even succeeded in making him look forward to it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Everyone at Firholme, including Lottie, breathed a collective sigh of relief when the rain cleared on the day of the Edwardian evening. It meant that there would probably be a bumper crowd of visitors, keen to get in the festive spirit and hopefully spread the word about how gorgeous Firholme was to keep people returning.

  It was also a welcome distraction from Steph’s upcoming scan, not to mention Connor and Keegan’s wedding.

  Darkness fell and soon after headlights wavered on the driveway, as the first visitors started to arrive at the estate. At first it was a trickle of cars, but soon became a torrent of locals, tourists and even a few coach tours. Feeling buoyed by the early signs, Lottie hoped the event would be well received enough to become an annual fixture. Looking around the courtyard, alive with excited visitors, she was confident that it would.

  She nodded a hello at Irina and Jan, buying hot chestnuts from a stall, and smiled as she saw Wilf Carman getting out of a minibus with his mates from the sheltered housing scheme where he lived.

  The air was filled with delicious aromas from hot stalls and cabins selling roast chestnuts and mulled wine while a special menu was being served in the café. A local choir were dressed in Edwardian costume, and singing carols, and later, a brass band would play a festive concert in the courtyard. Lottie had also booked a troupe of circus performers. Dressed in period costumes, the jugglers, fire-eater and stilt walker roamed the courtyard, entertaining the crowds.

  Bedecked in its festive finery, Firholme House was at the heart of the celebrations, its windows glowing like a beacon, as visitors queued to take a tour. Lottie had helped supervise the preparations and even though she’d seen the house a hundred times, she was entranced by how atmospheric it looked in the flickering candlelight.

  Jay and his team had worked incredibly hard, making sure the tree and foliage were in tip top condition. The effect of a lavish country house Christmas was complete, with the dining room laid out for a splendid Christmas Eve dinner, fires burning in the hearths and the tree providing a dramatic centrepiece in the ballroom.

  Although Lottie was on call throughout the event, and buzzing about the site to make sure all was well, she’d arranged to meet Steph and the girls who’d come over after school.

  Jodie and Myra hurtled up to her, dressed in hats and scarves. Steph followed, smiling but looking knackered. Her coat hung off her slender frame, though her hair was growing thicker now and the gamine style did suit her. Lottie didn’t want to show any concern, however, because she didn’t want to worry Steph, especially when the twins were so bubbly.

  While Steph went to buy hot chocolate, Lottie took charge of the girls – although it was more accurate to say they took charge of her, clutching a hand each.

  ‘Auntie Lottie! Auntie Lottieeee! Will the reindeer be here tonight?’ Myra’s voice was so hopeful that Lottie wished she had arranged for the reindeer to be at Firholme’s Edwardian evening.

  ‘Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m afraid not. Jay told me they’re busy visiting children in other parts of the Lake District. We can’t have them all to ourselves.’

  Myra wrinkled her nose in disappointment but then Jodie tugged her sister by the hand. ‘Look, there’s a lady putting fire in her mouth!’

  Shrieking in horror, Myra covered her eyes with her mittens. ‘She’ll get burnt. I don’t like it!’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Lottie soothed. ‘She won’t be hurt. She knows what she’s doing.’

  Myra peeped through her mittens while Jodie gawped as the woman – who was dressed in an Edwardian circus costume – licked flame from the burning brand.

  ‘I don’t recommend you try yourself though,’ she said, seeing the fascination in her nieces’ eyes.

  ‘Why?’ the twins chorused together.

  Lottie braced herself for a complex discussion about why the fire-eater could shove a flaming stick in her mouth and the kids couldn’t. She shuddered to think about it herself. She scanned the crowds, willing Steph to reappear soon but instead, she spotted a different source of distraction. ‘Jay!’

  Hearing her, he doubled back. The girls started dancing around and quizzing him about the reindeer. Lottie had been about to ask him if he knew the technicalities of fire-eating but there was now no need. Jay was soon explaining exactly where the reindeer had gone – Ulverston Dickensian Fair apparently – and Lottie had been spared.

 
Steph arrived with a cardboard tray of drinks, which she distributed to Lottie and the girls.

  ‘Sorry I didn’t realise you were here or I’d have bought you a hot chocolate,’ she told Jay, with a barely concealed glance of delight at Lottie. Please don’t wink at me, Steph, Lottie prayed silently.

  He smiled. ‘It’s fine, thanks. I just had a coffee. Are you having a good time?’

  ‘Great, thanks.’ Steph seemed gleeful. ‘I hope you’re finding time to enjoy yourselves. You and Lottie.’

  Oh God, Steph was subtle as a brick. ‘Oh, look. The brass band are starting up,’ Lottie said. ‘We can sing some carols.’

  ‘Can you sing?’ Myra asked Jay. ‘Mummy can’t. Auntie Lottie isn’t quite as bad.’

  ‘Thanks a lot, girls,’ Steph said with an eye-roll. ‘Actually, Lottie can sing though,’ she told Jay, who was clearly trying not to laugh.

  ‘No, I really can’t!’ Lottie protested.

  ‘Anyone can sing,’ Jay said. ‘It only takes practice.’

  Steph snorted. ‘I could practise for a hundred years and still sound like a scalded cat. I’m tone deaf.’

  Lottie was saved from having to reply by the band striking up their first carol, a cheery rendition of ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing’. The twins listened for a few minutes, until they begged their mum to take them to the ‘living’ nativity scene in the old coach house, with its donkey and sheep. Steph had her work cut out making sure the girls didn’t spill hot chocolate as they danced off towards the coach house. ‘I’ll see you later,’ she said.

  Jay stayed by Lottie’s side listening with her.

  ‘It came upon a midnight clear …’

  The local choir belted out the carol, encouraging the visitors to gather round and join in with them. The brass band reminded Lottie of the Christmas fairs when she and Steph were younger and their parents had lived in the Lakes. Enthused by the atmosphere, she couldn’t help but join in the singing, in a quiet voice.

  ‘Good King Wenceslas looked out …’ the choir sang. ‘On the feast of Stephen, when the snow lay round about …’