It Happened on Christmas Eve

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It Happened on Christmas Eve Page 7

by Kirsty Greenwood


  And then it occurs to me that Marcy gave me this gift yesterday. So technically I’d already gotten what I wanted without having to accompany Adam around all day.

  But then if I hadn’t I wouldn’t have gotten to sing in the private park, or eat two hot dogs in a row, or tell a snotty bookseller that she fancied her horse, or smell every single perfume at the pharmacy, or pick out the most beautiful tree star I’ve ever seen, or gotten closure with Mitch, or kiss Adam and see the possibility that I could one day find someone to love.

  I smile sadly as I think of Adam. I wonder what he’s doing right now? Probably in bed with Danielle, the pair of them having made up with an all night sex session just in time for a perfect loved-up Christmas morning.

  I’m scowling at the very thought when my doorbell rings three times in a row, making me jump.

  Who the hell is that? Mum? Did she come back from Australia to see me?

  No. She would never do something so frivolous.

  I hurry down the hallway, my too long pyjama bottoms making me trip and stumble on the way.

  I open the door to find Adam. He’s wearing a Santa hat, red faced and wobbling precariously on his crutches. There’s a large shopping bag hanging from his arm and the tree we bought yesterday is tied to a piece of rope and resting on the ground beside him.

  ‘Fuck! It’s taken me twenty minutes to hobble one hundred metres through that snow with all this stuff. Let me in, I’m freezing!’

  Laughing out loud at the sight of him, I pick up the tree and head back inside, Adam hopping in after me.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I ask once we’re in the living room.

  ‘I missed you,’ he says, looking me up and down like he wants to undress me right here, right now. ‘Nice pyjamas.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. What about Danielle?’

  Adam takes my hands in his, and my heart starts to flip and dance. ‘It’s over. It was over months ago. She was just the first one to do something about it. I needed to tell her last night that we were never getting back together, which is why I let you leave.’

  I nod slowly, taking it in.

  ‘I would have come over last night but Danielle and I were talking until late and I didn’t want to wake you up.

  ‘What about your mum?’ I ask. ‘Doesn’t she want you to spend today with her?’

  Adam laughs and shakes his head. ‘Well, apparently she suspected this of happening.’ He gestures between us. ‘She saw how I reacted to you last year at your office and it seems that she played matchmaker yesterday.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So… Jemima Crossley Jones’ design emergency at the Oxo Tower?’

  ‘I think she embellished the urgency of it a little bit…’

  ‘I can’t believe it!’

  ‘It was a pretty punchy move.’

  The pair of us sit down on the sofa. I start giggling to myself.

  ‘Why are you laughing?’ Adam asks. ‘I’m all red aren’t I? Walking on those crutches and carrying a Christmas tree is no easy feat.’

  ‘I’m laughing because I feel happy,’ I say, moving closer so that I can kiss Adam’s lips. ‘And that’s a relief.’ He kisses me back and it feels better than anything has felt in a very long time.

  Adam nuzzles his cold nose against mine. ‘You’re nice,’ he murmurs, pressing his lips to mine again.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t have any Christmas food in the house,’ I say pulling away.

  ‘Aha!’ Adam digs into the shopping bag he brought, and after pulling out the baubles and the copper Christmas star from yesterday, emerges with a bag of dried noodles and a jar of sweet and sour sauce. ‘Found them in the back of my cupboard.’

  I laugh in delight. ‘Noodles! Perfect! But not very traditional.’

  Adam takes my face in his hands and searches my eyes. ‘Maybe it’s time to start some new traditions. Just for you and me.’

  You know what? I think he’s right.

  THE END

  Dear Beloved Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed this festive tale and that it warmed your cockles a little. I used to live in Notting Hill and it was lovely for me to spend time there again by way of Phoebe and Adam’s long Christmas Eve. I hope it was lovely for you too!

  If you read on there’s an exclusive early sneak peak of my next full length novel. It’s called Nora Tucker and The One and it’s about Nora Tucker (of course) a bookish nerd from Sheffield who believes that Hollywood’s hottest young actor is her soulmate. So she goes to Los Angeles in an attempt to convince him that they belong together… It’s quirky and funny like my other books, and with a very memorable cast of characters that I think you will love. It will be published in early 2020. If you want to be alerted when it’s released you can sign up for my newsletter right here. I don’t send out many newsletters but when I do, and I don’t mean to brag, they’re pre-tty good.

  Okay, I will let you get back to your day, or night. Thank you for reading this, and thank you if you leave a review and thank you for all your lovely emails and photos. They make me very happy.

  Until next time,

  Kirsty xxxxxxx

  Exclusive sneak peek of Kirsty’s new novel ‘Nora Tucker and The One’!

  CHAPTER ONE

  "Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." -- Emily Brontë 1847

  My sister tells me I’ve got my head stuck in the clouds. She pulls a face when she says it like it’s a bad thing. But I think it’s a super-power. I’m an excellent daydreamer, you see. I can ping my brain to amazing, breath-taking scenarios whenever I like. I do it when I’m riding the bus or on hold with a call centre or getting a Pap test. Sometimes I daydream just for fun. I’ll cosy up on my floppy sofa with a cup of milky English Breakfast tea and stare into space while my imagination brings me all the good stuff I could ever need. In those daydreams I can be anything I want to be. Cooler, braver, wittier, the hero instead of the sidekick; basically all the things I can’t seem to pull off in real life. I don’t even need to leave the house to have a great time… It’s pretty cool. Some would say it is also pretty sad, but those people probably never had a high definition daydream in which a naked Mark Ruffalo prepares them a feast of extra cheesy grilled cheddar cheese sandwiches while telling them they have the skin of a well hydrated baby and also a most intriguing sense of style.

  My super-power especially comes in handy at my job where I work as a receptionist for Doctor Jenkins’s GP practice in the teeny suburb of Brigglesford, Sheffield, England. I must have one of those faces people want to share private things with because all the patients chat to me about their ailments.

  In great detail.

  The first year of working here I tried hard to pay attention, to listen and respond thoughtfully, helpfully. But then I discovered that mostly people didn’t really even care what I said. They just wanted someone to talk at and my responses rarely mattered. This happens to me quite a lot. A weird amount, actually. I’m one of those people who sort of blend into the background and that’s fine – we can’t all be leading ladies, imagine the chaos. And I don’t mind too much because being talked at basically means bonus daydreaming time for me. So Mr Etherington taking his damp socks off and waving his bare foot in my face to give me a good look at the fungus growing between his toes? Ping! A perfect opportunity to whizz my brain to a sandy beach somewhere exotic where I’m drinking a giant blueberry Mai Tai or riding a dolphin in a warm ocean... Judy Anne Mills giving me an oral history of every allergy she ever had from the ages of five to seventy five and three quarters? Ping! I pontificate about what would happen if a disgruntled patient suddenly burst into the doctor’s surgery and threatened to take us all hostage and how I would somehow save the day using only office supplies, leaflets about type two diabetes and my admittedly limited natural charm... Mrs Francis musing on whether she should have affair because she is fed up of her husband’s chronic impotence? Actually I’m totally present for that conv
ersation because Mr Francis is the mayor of Brigglesford and that shit is juicy.

  Right at this very moment I’m daydreaming about finishing work and getting home as soon as possible so I can get back to the most recent Blood Money novel I’m reading. It’s this indie romance series about rich and beautiful teen vampires that I appear to have found myself, as a twenty-six year old grown-ass woman, completely obsessed with.

  As the last patient leaves the surgery, I hurriedly start shutting down my computer and placing my pens back into the plastic desk tidy on my left, eager to get home and back into the dramatic world of Fabian and Ellory, the star-crossed soulmates of Blood Money. He’s the handsome All-American nerd next door, she’s the high ranking teen vampire with perfect hair and a penchant for beta geeks. It is my exact literary aesthetic and, my goodness, I. Cannot. Get. Enough.

  Doctor George, one of the younger GPs emerges from his office and approaches my desk, a sweet smile on his serious face. He tugs at the collar of his starched white shirt.

  ‘Nora, hi there,’ he gives a little wave. ‘I was wondering if you’d like to grab dinner tonight?’

  George has a bit of a thing for me. In the past two months he’s asked me out three times for dinner and a movie and each time I’ve turned him down, even though I’m not exactly flush with men falling at my feet. The thing is, Doctor George is perfectly nice and perfectly kind and perfectly clever but he’s not, you know, it. And I, my friends, am waiting for it; the thunderbolt, the love at first sight, The One. I’m pretty sure that Doctor George is not The One. A person just knows these things, right? And because Doctor George is not The One I avoid dating him, even casually, because what would be the point? We’d one hundred percent eventually break up, we’d still have to work together and the whole thing would be an awkward and inconvenient mess. Why do that to each other?

  ‘Ah, I’m sorry. I have plans,’ I say with a smile. ‘But thanks for the offer!’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ George replies with a series of quick nods. ‘Okay then. Yes. See you on Monday then. See you on Monday, Kathleen,’ he calls over to Kathleen, the new admin assistant who works in the small office area behind reception.

  When he’s left the building Kathleen hurries over and goggles at me as I’m pulling on my parka.

  ‘Well, if he isn’t smitten!’ she breathes, a hand pressed to her chest. ‘And persistent! He’s very handsome, Nora. And a doctor. A very very handsome doctor. You could do worse…’

  She subtly looks me up and down in a way that, if I were more sensitive, could be insulting. I know I’m not a typical beauty, but I quite like how I look — friendly, clean, a little bit like a chunky snow white.

  I shrug, dipping my hands into woollen gloves to brace against the chilly March air outside. ‘You’re right, Kathleen, he is very handsome, but what can I say? He’s not for me. I’m looking for the cupid’s arrow. The Boom Ba Ba Boom! The shot to the heart! The thing that all those amazing power ballads talk about. Doctor George is sweet and, yes, technically way out of my league… but he’s not my soulmate. Why waste his time?’

  ‘The Boom Ba Ba Boom?’ Kathleen laughs, the lines at the corners of her eyes deepening. ‘Boom Ba Ba Booms hardly happen in real life, love. My Peter and I never had a Boom Ba Ba Boom and we’re besotted. Married for twenty one years next month, in fact.’

  ‘Wow, twenty one years? Congratulations!’

  Kathleen gives me an intense look. ‘You shouldn’t wait for too long or you could end up alone. It happens! The lady who lives opposite me is seventy eight and never had a relationship for her whole life. Now all she has is three overgrown dogs, two aloof guinea pigs and a prizewinning cucumber patch in her back garden.’

  ‘That sounds a lot like a woman living her best life.’

  Kathleen sighs and stares worriedly into the mid distance. ‘She was probably waiting for her “soulmate” too. Now I expect she’s full of regrets.’

  This is not the first time that people have scoffed at my notions of waiting for The One. My sister Imogene in particular, thinks I am a bonafide kook, that my mind has been mushified by a lifelong devotion to romance movies, TV shows and books. But I don’t care what she thinks. Finding my soulmate is the only big thing I truly want. More than a high powered career, or a swish car or skinnier thighs or any of those useless things. And I’m going to tell Kathleen why. I put my hands on her round shoulders and lift my chin.

  ‘Listen, Kathleen, you’re new here, but if we’re going to be working together or maybe even be friends there’s one thing you should know about me. I, Nora Tucker, believe in true romance. I believe that my soulmate is somewhere out there on this earth as strongly as I believe that grilled cheddar cheese sandwiches are the best food in the whole world. I believe that there is one single person with whom I’m supposed to spend my life. One soul who fits mine like a missing puzzle piece. The yin to my yang, the stars to my moon, the Kenan to my Kel. The One. And I know it seems weird to you that I’m hanging around during my prime fertile years, turning down very very handsome doctors, but I don’t want to miss my soulmate when he comes along because I’m already in a relationship with someone who I only kind of sort of maybe quite like. I want to be open, primed, ready for action. Because it is happening. I will meet the man who is meant only for me and it will be epic.’

  ‘Right.’ Kathleen’s eyes are wide. ‘Yes. Wow.’

  ‘Hmm. Was that a bit intense of me?’ I gently remove my hands from her shoulders.

  ‘It was, quite, yes.’ Kathleen does a tiny quick grimace.

  ‘Sorry. I can get a little carried away sometimes. But, jeez, is it really so crazy to believe in true love?’

  Kathleen pulls on her own coat and sort of slowly backs away towards the main entrance door. ‘No, love. It’s not. You’re certainly, um, passionate! And I hope you do find your soulmate soon. Yes. Okay... Um, I should get going… Haveagoodweekendbye!’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ I call after her rapidly retreating form. ‘My soulmate is on his way! It’s going to happen for me! I’m certain of it!’

  If you want to be alerted when Nora Tucker and The One is released you can sign up for my newsletter right here!

  About the Author

  Kirsty Greenwood is an author of fast-paced, fearless and funny romantic comedies.

  She lives in Saddleworth with her boyfriend, her books and her dog.

  To sign up for new release updates, monthly giveaways and more from Kirsty, add your name to her newsletter here.

  www.kirstygreenwood.com

  Also by Kirsty Greenwood

  Yours Truly

  Lessons in Love and Romance

  Big Sexy Love

  Copyright © 2019 by Kirsty Greenwood

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover illustrations © 2019 by Edward Jordan

 

 

 


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