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

  ‘You knew I wanted to keep it quiet at work. Why couldn’t you do this one thing for me?’ Lottie couldn’t help herself. All the disappointment and worry of the past year – more than a year – poured out in a torrent. ‘When you needed me, I came through,’ she said.

  ‘And I’m grateful. Bloody grateful,’ Steph shot back. ‘I’m sorry I interfered in your life but you’d just split up with Connor. I told myself it didn’t matter that you were spending so much time around the house with the twins. I convinced myself it would be company. I was selfish and I’ve thought about it many times since but I wasn’t in a fit state to be sensible and thoughtful. I thought I was dying and I’d never see the girls.’

  ‘Oh, Steph! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken things out on you—’ Emotion bubbled up in Lottie’s throat. ‘But I can’t help being worried about you. I remember …’ Lottie paused. She would never forget the moment Steph was going in to the clinic for her first round of chemo. Her sister had made her swear that she’d look after the twins if Steph died. She’d made Lottie promise to be their mum. At the memory, tears rose in her eyes.

  ‘I know … I’m worried about me. I’m petrified of it coming back! Of having to go through the fear and pain all over again – and never coming out of it at the end. That’s probably why I had so much to drink last night. I wanted to blot out the future, forget any of the past crappy year ever happened!’

  Steph started to cry, big fat tears rolling down her face. Lottie went to her and held her. The tears didn’t last long and Steph was smiling suddenly.

  ‘My God, I bet we look rough … and … last night was going so well too. I was enjoying myself until everything went suddenly downhill.’

  Lottie handed over a roll of kitchen towel so Steph could wipe their eyes.

  She blew her nose and sighed. ‘You – haven’t heard from Kerr since last night, have you?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Lottie said, remembering Kerr’s concern with a smile. ‘But he did ask after you at the time.’

  Steph shrieked in horror then held her head. ‘Ouch. Bloody hell. You mean he saw me in that state?’

  ‘He was concerned and he’d been trying to find you. He only wanted to help.’

  ‘Oh sh – oh why did I even have any wine at all! I’ve seen him picking his son up from school and thought he was tasty. He’s even better-looking close up and he’s funny … and kind. But even if he did want to ask me out, he won’t now after seeing me spread over the sofa in a drunken stupor.’

  ‘He was worried about you … and we told him you haven’t been well.’

  ‘That makes it worse! This bloody cancer. What guy would want to take on a woman with twins who might not make it until next bloody Christmas!’

  ‘You will make it,’ Lottie said firmly. ‘Come here. Big hug.’

  After a moment, Lottie released her sister. ‘Now get some coffee down you and go back to bed if you need to. I’m sure Kerr will be in touch to see how you are.’

  ‘He doesn’t have my number.’

  ‘That’s easily solved,’ Lottie said. ‘I really have to go and see what state the ballroom’s in after the party and make sure there’s no damage. Help yourself to breakfast. If you can’t face toast, there’s streaky bacon and some fresh eggs in the fridge.’

  ‘Streaky bacon?’ Steph shuddered. ‘Yuk.’

  ‘If you want a really big fry-up, I think there’s even a spicy Cumberland sausage or two and some juicy black pudding.’

  Steph put her hands over her ears. ‘Stop torturing me. I can never face fried food again.’ She stuck out her tongue in disgust. ‘Or alcohol come to that.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah … I believe you.’

  ‘Yes. Um. I am sorry I ran my mouth off. I didn’t mean to make your life harder. I’ll never forget what you did for me and the girls. What you still do. And I hope I haven’t caused too much friction with your gorgeous Jay.’

  ‘He’s not my Jay.’

  ‘I think he could be.’ Steph had a wicked look in her eye so she couldn’t be feeling too bad.

  ‘Get some rest and give the girls a huge kiss from me. Tell them I’m looking forward to their nativity play.’

  ‘Oh, no. I just remembered I need to make a donkey and a lobster costume!’

  ‘A lobster? In a nativity play? Good luck with that,’ Lottie said, heading for the stairs, leaving Steph to stew in her own juices.

  She had a headache and dry mouth herself, partly from partying, but made worse by lying awake half the night. But she had work to do. She picked her way through slush en route to the big house. The leaden skies reflected her mood.

  It was bad enough having to deal with and try to hide her own feelings of sadness about the wedding, now she was worrying about Jay’s reaction and she’d made Steph feel guilty. Technically, it was no business of Jay’s that she’d been engaged to Connor, or even close to him. She’d told no actual lies. However, it felt like a breach of trust not to have mentioned the extent of her connection with him. She had to speak to Jay as soon as it was practical and explain why she’d kept it quiet. Maybe she wouldn’t have been so worried about holding back the truth if she hadn’t cared about him so much. Their kiss on the terrace had been wonderful; now, she was sure that he felt she’d let him down.

  She paused on the steps to the house.

  Would it be easier to simply come clean with Jay now? Trouble was, how could she broach the subject when she still wasn’t exactly sure what Steph had told him about her relationship with Connor? She’d just have to play things by ear and hope for the best.

  It was a dreary sight that greeted her when she walked into the ballroom. Most of the food and rubbish had all been cleared away by the caterers, but the floor was littered with silly string and party poppers. The murky daylight wasn’t enough to penetrate far so she threw the main light switch. It flickered and then illuminated the room.

  She found a broom from the cleaners’ cupboard and started to sweep up, while checking that no damage had been done. There was a dirty scuff on the wall behind the celebrant’s dais so she made a note to get it painted the next day. Apart from a couple of shattered baubles, the tree was intact and, under the care of Jay’s team, should be fresh and well watered for the wedding ceremony. There were a lot of bashed mistletoe sprigs lying around too and when she lifted her boot, she found it sticky with squashed berries. It seemed like a metaphor for the morning after her magical kiss.

  Jay walked in with a brush and some bin bags and Lottie braced herself.

  ‘You’re here already,’ he said.

  This wasn’t a very promising start.

  ‘I only arrived ten minutes ago.’

  His reply was a grunt. He put the bin bags on the buffet table, among the discarded glasses, and cast his eye around the room. ‘Some of the greenery has taken a battering but I’ll refresh it all again for the wedding.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Lottie waited for him to say more but he began gathering up battered mistletoe from the floor. ‘How’s your sister today?’ he asked without turning around.

  ‘A bit sorry for herself but she’ll survive.’

  He plucked a piece of broken mistletoe from the top of a vase. ‘I’m glad she had a good time,’ he said, finally facing her.

  ‘Maybe she’s wishing she didn’t have quite such a good time but thanks again for helping me get her home safely,’ Lottie replied, wondering if he was leading in to a comment about Steph.

  ‘No problem.’ He dropped the twig in the bag.

  She felt naked and stranded. ‘Jay. I – some of the things Steph might have said last night. I feel I should explain.’

  ‘You don’t have to explain anything. What went on between you and Connor is your business.’

  Her spirits sank to her boots. He did know then.

  In her heart, she’d expected it and yet she’d clung on to a slim thread of hope that Steph had been mistaken about mentioning Connor.

  ‘I’d prefer it if I could talk to you bef
ore anyone else. Connor and I did live together for a while but we decided to split up. These things happen,’ she added lightly.

  ‘Like I said, it’s your business. I respect your decision.’ He picked up a bag of rubbish, as if to signal the conversation was over.

  ‘Oh God, someone turn off the lights!’ Shayla said as she walked in wearing dark glasses. She sounded very husky.

  Lottie exchanged a look with Jay that signalled any further discussion would have to wait; if they ever spoke to each other as more than colleagues again.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  With a grim satisfaction, Jay turned up the volume on the music system at the Christmas tree centre. He’d chosen Festive Mix 3 – the one with the floor fillers that normally had even the staff humming along. Probably ones they’d been jigging around to the night before. Some of his team looked like they hadn’t been to bed at all.

  After helping to clear up the ballroom, he’d headed to the tree centre, churning over what he’d heard about Lottie and Connor.

  Helping out Steph and Lottie had stopped him from having any more than the couple of beers and glass of champagne he’d had with dinner. That was, however, the only consolation.

  A night that had been fizzing over with promise had turned as flat as the dregs in the discarded flutes. He felt he’d taken one step forward and two back. He’d had a great time with Lottie. She’d looked incredible, felt even more amazing in his arms, and as for that kiss – it sent chills through him even now, in the cold light of day. He’d wanted to whisk her off to his cottage right there and then. It wasn’t only physical feelings she’d reawakened, it was hope and trust.

  That prospect seemed very remote this morning.

  What troubled him was the revelation about Connor. Now when he looked back, he could see the tension between them. It was obvious that Connor and Lottie had been together, and he had dumped her. Now he was engaged to another woman and allowing Lottie to arrange his wedding. Jesus, if there was an Olympic event for being a tosser, Connor would win the gold with a world record.

  If Jay had thought that was the end of things, he could have accepted it but there was an elephant in the room he couldn’t ignore.

  The news they’d been so close threw a new and unpleasant light on the moment he’d found them together in the Bothy. Lottie had seemed guilty and upset. Was that because she was still in love with the man? However much of an arse Connor was, Lottie might still have strong feelings for him, and having to arrange his wedding must have unearthed painful memories, and maybe even made Connor have second thoughts too. As Jay knew all too well, feelings for someone you’d loved and trusted could linger way longer than you expected or wanted. Love wouldn’t be dismissed to order, the disappointment – the grief – at the betrayal of a partner was hard to overcome.

  His thoughts were interrupted by Kerr slouching into the marquee, holding a large mug of black coffee.

  ‘Oh God, not a full day of Slade and the Darkness,’ he moaned. ‘I had enough of that last night and why does it have to be so bloody loud?’

  ‘It’s not loud,’ said Jay wryly. ‘It’s normal volume.’

  ‘If you say so … um … did you happen to see Lottie this morning?’

  Jay frowned. ‘I saw her while we were clearing up the ballroom. Why?’

  ‘I wondered how her sister is after last night. I never got her number before she took ill.’

  ‘Oh …’ Jay was taken aback. He hadn’t realised his deputy fancied Steph but he didn’t want to mention her cancer in case she hadn’t told Kerr so he fudged an answer. ‘Um. She’s OK, according to Lottie. I think she’s er – on some medication and overdid the champagne a bit.’

  ‘Thank God for that. I’ve been worried. She’s a lovely woman.’

  Jay almost fainted. This was high praise from Kerr … but did he mean Lottie or Steph?

  ‘Well, I’m glad she’s OK,’ he said, more carefully. Jay could almost see the cogs turning in his mind.

  ‘I’m sure Lottie could tell you more about her sister …’ Jay said, amused by his deputy’s attempts not to seem too interested in Steph’s wellbeing. ‘Why don’t you ask her?’

  ‘I might just do that,’ Kerr said then added quickly: ‘But there’s work to be done, even if I feel like I’ve woken up in a Christmas prison camp where we’re doomed to serve a lifetime of festive servitude.’

  ‘Prison? This is the season of goodwill,’ Jay said. ‘Come on – smile. The public will be here soon and they’re expecting happy people. Where’s your Santa hat?’

  ‘Dunno. Must have lost it yesterday,’ Kerr growled.

  ‘That’s OK, you can have mine.’ Jay pulled his hat off and handed it over.

  Kerr looked at it in disgust. ‘It’s too big.’

  ‘You cheeky bugger!’ Jay was forced to smile.

  Kerr laughed then groaned. ‘Ouch, that hurt my head.’

  ‘Serves you right.’

  A couple of other workers shuffled into the marquee, looking like they’d spent the night in a badger’s hole.

  He clapped his hands and felt the collective wince. ‘Come on. I know you all partied hard last night and the last thing you feel like is spreading peace and joy but we have a job to do. Drink as much water and coffee as you need to get through the shift, and remember however bad you’re feeling, it was self-inflicted.’ He added a grin, though he felt even less joyful than the staff. ‘It’s not the Night of the Living Dead. It’s Christmas!’

  They trudged off, leaving Jay alone with his thoughts again, none of them pleasant.

  The reason Connor looked so at ease in Lottie’s cottage was because Connor and Lottie had lived together, shared a home and a bed. The way he’d dismissed Jay was because he was, consciously or otherwise, telling him to back off. Connor still felt that Lottie was his, which meant he might even be having regrets about marrying Keegan.

  Did Lottie feel the same about Connor?

  He could ask her, of course. He knew how he felt, despite everything. He was in love with Lottie. He should swallow his pride and ask her how she really felt about Connor – and him. If only he had the courage … The problem was that he’d already fallen hard for Lottie and he wasn’t sure he could risk being hurt all over again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ten days to the wedding

  Setting out the chairs in the ballroom on the Wednesday after the ball, the last thing Lottie felt like facing was a wedding run-through with Keegan and Connor. The subterfuge was killing her. Jay had barely spoken to her since Sunday – and she could hardly blame him after betraying his trust just when she felt they were building something special together.

  The photographer, Alok, turned up thirty minutes early to set up so Lottie showed him to the house and asked Thorsten to send up the wedding party when they arrived.

  Connor arrived, bang on time, but without Keegan. His quiff was askew, and he was red in the face.

  ‘Keegan’s at the hairdresser’s having her highlights done or something. I told her it was cutting it fine but she wanted this celebrity stylist woman. Apparently, this woman cut some famous actress’s hair for her wedding. It was the only day this bloody woman could fit her in.’

  ‘Where’s the salon?’ Lottie asked.

  ‘Cartmel. It’s in a posh hotel. The one with the Michelin star.’

  ‘Wow. That’s a long journey to make …’

  ‘I told her it was bloody miles away but she set off at six a.m. She should be on her way now. I just hope my sister turns up. She’s about as reliable as the weather.’

  A few minutes later, as if to prove him wrong, Lottie saw Alicia Moran jump out of a battered Toyota truck outside the house and stride up the steps straight into the vestibule, leaving a trail of mud from her boots. She ran a riding school a couple of miles from Firholme and had clearly come straight from the stables because she was in jodhpurs, boots and a padded jacket that had a strong whiff of horse about it. Although Connor had assured Lottie that
Alicia was sworn to secrecy about their previous relationship, Lottie’s stomach had been churning for the past hour. Outspoken and funny, Alicia was the life and soul of any family gathering, but diplomacy was definitely not her strong point.

  ‘Hello again! Fancy seeing you here,’ she declared, giving Lottie a hug.

  ‘For God’s sake, Alicia. Keegan might have seen you,’ Connor complained.

  ‘But she hasn’t and anyway, I thought you told me she already knows we know Lottie.’

  ‘Only as acquaintances,’ Connor said. ‘Not on hugging terms.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Alicia didn’t look sorry at all. ‘Where is Keegan anyway?’

  ‘At the hairdressers in Cartmel.’

  ‘Cartmel!’ Alicia burst out laughing. ‘That’s hours away. What’s wrong with the local salon in Keswick?’

  Connor swore. ‘It’s her wedding, Alicia, what do you expect?’

  ‘Would you like to meet the photographer?’ Lottie said hastily, feeling the tension between Connor and Alicia who didn’t get on at the best of times.

  When she opened the doors into the ballroom, Alicia’s eyes widened like saucers. ‘Bloody hell, this is like Buckingham Palace compared to how it used to be. I remember Mum used to bring us for tea sometimes. It’s a fantastic setting but I always thought the hotel itself was a bit run-down and fogeyish. Bugger me, but it’s like a totally different place now.’

  Meanwhile Connor paced the other side of the ballroom, his phone clamped to his ear. His face fell and he let out a groan of frustration. Lottie could tell he was talking to Keegan and imagined she could hear faint squeaks from the mobile.

  Lottie knew the photographer from previous weddings they’d worked on together.

  ‘OK. Calm down. I’m sure they can fix it. Don’t leave until you’re satisfied … Tell them we’ll sue if you’re not happy! OK. OK, nutkin. I’ll try and sort it out.’

  ‘Nutkin?’ Alicia made a barfing action behind Connor’s back.