The Christmas Swap

by Sandy Barker

  “Beautiful,” said Chloe softly. She hoped they would like the ornaments she’d brought them from Australia. Nestled back in her chair, she went to take a sip of her sherry only to find the glass empty. “Oh.” She looked at it in shock, a little embarrassed that she’d drunk it all already.

  “Oh, never mind about that, love. Happens to me all the time.” Mrs Browning laughed and got up to refill Chloe’s glass. “They’re tiny glasses, aren’t they? Quite silly really.” She threw in a wink and Chloe grinned up at her.

  “Thank you, Mrs Browning.”

  “Love, you really must stop calling us ‘Mr’ and ‘Mrs’. Please, it’s Max and Susan.”

  “Right, Max and Susan.” For some reason, it didn’t seem right to her to call them by their first names, which was ridiculous, because she called the CEO of the company she worked for by her first name and she was even older than Mr and Mrs—than Max and Susan.

  “So, Lucy says that you’re a party planner?” Susan asked.

  “Uh, an event manager, yes.”

  “Oh, that sounds like an interesting job. What sort of parties are they?” asked Max.

  “Well, they’re not really parties as such, more like corporate events. You know? Like, when a company is launching a product and they throw an event with giveaways and drinks and music. Like that.”

  “Like a party.” Chloe was certain that Max wasn’t being obstreperous on purpose and when she thought about how she’d explained her job, she realised he was right. She was, of sorts, a party planner.

  She smiled, “Actually, yes, you’re absolutely right. I plan parties for companies and do all the PR,” she added.

  “And is it fun?” asked Susan.

  “Sometimes, sure, but it’s also hard work. There are a lot of moving parts, and just one thing going wrong can affect the whole event. Mostly, I love it, even if it does get a little ‘samey’ sometimes. I mean, it’s project-based, which is good, and I get to do two of my favourite things—organising and communicating—but I can see myself doing something else in the future, maybe in a related field. I’ve never been like Lucy, happy working for the same company for years and years.

  “Mmm, well, I’m not sure how happy Lucy is of late. At her work, I mean. She’s been having a hard time with her new manager.”

  This was news to Chloe. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Susan.” Max threw his wife a look. From where Chloe sat, it said, “Let’s not bring that up now, not while we have company.” Chloe watched them both closely as Susan’s lips pressed together. There was clearly more to the story, and Chloe planned to ask Lucy about it the next time they talked.

  The tension in the room was interrupted by the phone ringing—a proper, sitting on the table, landline phone.

  Susan leapt up and answered in the middle of the third ring. “Hello? Oh, Cecily, hello, dear.” Chloe noticed how her tone of voice flattened a little as soon as she discovered the caller’s identity. “She what? Oh, no, the poor thing. That’s terrible. No, quite right, she’s got to do as doctor says. There’s no two ways about it. No, dear, she can’t help. She’s in America. Yes, for Christmas. Well, no, she’s been planning it for months now, with her friends, you see. They’ve all swapped Christmases. We’ve got one of her best friends, Chloe, staying … Hang on a moment, Cecily. I’ve just had a thought.”

  Chloe had been listening intently, wondering what had happened to whom. She didn’t have to wonder for long, however, because Susan put a hand over the handset and addressed her in a loud whisper.

  “Chloe, it’s Cecily on the phone,” she said, as though Chloe should know who the heck Cecily was. Her face must have betrayed her, because Susan went on to explain, “She’s the Co-chair of the committee for the Christmas Fair with Deirdre, and apparently Deirdre’s gone and turned her ankle stepping into a rabbit hole while she was out walking her dog.” This was a lot of seemingly unnecessary detail and Chloe wished she would get to the point.

  “In any case, Deirdre can’t run the fair with Cecily anymore. Strict doctor’s orders for bed rest, I’m afraid. So, you see what I’m getting at, don’t you?”

  Chloe stared at her blankly, her mind fuzzy from hearty food, jet lag, exhaustion and, well yes, the sherry.

  “Chloe love, would you step in and help run the village Christmas Fair?”

  Chapter 8

  Lucy

  Lucy had never been anywhere as beautiful as Breckenridge.

  Her mind flew to Oxford, Cambridge, even Stratford-upon-Avon—all picturesque and perhaps all the more beautiful for their rich histories. She thought of Paris—stunning Paris, which she had been fortunate enough to see under a fresh fall of snow.

  She thought of her home hamlet of Penham, which was quaint and charming, especially when fondant-like snow iced the brown thatched roofs, evoking her mum’s much-loved Christmas cake.

  But none of those places were anything like this.

  Shopfronts like gingerbread houses were trimmed neatly in coloured lights, their windows spilling warm light onto the footpath in cone-shaped beams. The streetlamps wore bright red velvet bows, and were wrapped like candy canes in green garlands, as if they were on their way to a posh party.

  And there were thousands—maybe millions—of pinpoints of white light. Every tree was brimming with them, aglow like the flames of giant birthday cake candles. Couples, families, friends—all wrapped in brightly-coloured quilted coats and donning pompom hats and broad grins—wove in and out along the footpaths. Some parents pulled delighted children along on sledges.

  As the traffic streamed slowly through the heart of the town, Lucy emitted exclamations in a constant stream of awe.

  Then they passed what she assumed was the town square. “Oh, look at that Christmas tree!” It came out as a near-whisper. The enormous tree was so densely adorned, it looked like it was made from light. More people milled about the square, the crowd seeming to be in high spirits as many sipped from takeaway cups. She even saw a couple of people dressed up as Father Christmas.

  She looked across at Will and saw that he was watching her. “Pretty incredible, huh?” he asked. She realised she had tears in her eyes and blinked them back. “Yeah, it can have that effect on you, for sure,” he added. They shared a smile and her gaze returned to the town. Lucy could have stayed in that car forever, watching out the window.

  And being with Will.

  She indulged the thought, trying it on for size.

  It wasn’t just that he was handsome—very handsome—he was clever and accomplished, and he was unbelievably easy to talk to. She’d never known a man like that; she had even told him about her problems with Angela, her manager.

  And in the quiet moments over the past few hours—none of them awkward, she realised—her fantasy of the fireside lovemaking had really taken shape. Had she been asked, she could have described it in as much detail as a love scene from a romance novel. In fact, she could probably pen a romance novel now. The Awakening of Lucy Browning.

  The car felt very warm all of a sudden and she tugged at the prickly neck of her jumper as they started to move again.

  “Not long now,” Will said. Lucy hoped that in the dim light of the car, he couldn’t see how flushed she was. “The cabin’s just a couple of miles out of town. Once we get to the outskirts, the traffic should free up. We may actually be able to do more than twenty!”

  She expelled a breathy laugh at the irony of being so close to their destination but wanting to stay in the car longer.

  *

  “You’re here!” Jules’s mum burst out of the cabin and jogged down to the car just as Lucy climbed out. Even in the dim light coming from the cabin windows, Lucy could see right away that she and Jules could have easily passed for sisters, rather than mother and daughter.

  Steph—she’d always been “Steph” to Lucy, right from when Lucy met her aged eleven—hugged her tightly and Lucy felt wrapped up in the welcome. Steph stepped back and looked at her. “It’s so good
to have you here. Jules loves you just like a sister and that means you’re family to us too.”

  The tears from earlier made another appearance. Lucy knew her parents loved her—of course they did—but she had never received such an effusive welcome from her mum. She beamed back at Steph and finally found her voice. “Thank you. I’m very happy to be here. And Breckenridge is just …” She had no adequate words.

  “I know. I feel the same way, even after all these years.” Steph squeezed her shoulders.

  “Hi, Mom.” They turned at Will’s voice and Lucy saw that he was laden with her case and his, with the strap of her carry-on over one shoulder.

  “Oh, I can—” she started, reaching for the handle of her case.

  “It’s all good. I got it.”

  “Hi, honey.” Steph reached up to kiss her son on the cheek. “I’m glad you got here safely,” she added, then turned towards the cabin. “Come on! It’s freezing out here and your dad’s made hot chocolate,” she called as she jogged up the steps.

  “After you,” said Lucy, “as you’re the one carrying everything.” He lifted the cases easily up the front steps and Lucy followed him inside, taking in the enormity of the home as she went. To call it a “cabin” was a gross understatement; it was a mansion by any measure of the word.

  Standing in the double-storey foyer, Lucy couldn’t help but compare the grandeur of the Reinhardt’s holiday home to her family’s three-up-two-down terraced house with its postcard-sized back garden and a front door that opened practically onto the road.

  She hoped Chloe wasn’t too disappointed.

  Steph called forth her husbands. “Joe! Nate! They’re here.” The men appeared from different doorways and Lucy recognised Nate right away. Without hesitating, he enveloped her in a huge hug, lifting her off the ground.

  “Welcome, sweetheart.” Lucy knew how much Jules loved her dad’s hugs and thought of her friend who was on the other side of the world.

  “Thank you,” Lucy replied, her voice muffled against Nate’s shoulder.

  “And this is my husband, Joe,” said Steph as Nate put her down.

  The contrast between Steph’s two husbands was glaring. Nate—six-foot-one, burly with a broad open face, his blond hair tinged with grey—and Joe—only just taller than Steph, with a wiry build, black hair, and olive skin. While both were handsome in their own ways, Steph couldn’t have chosen two more distinct men—physically, at least.

  Lucy stuck out her hand and Joe shook it warmly. “Welcome, Lucy. I’ve heard wonderful things about you.”

  “You too,” she lied politely. She’d heard bits and pieces, and she knew that Jules got along with her stepdad, but that was about all.

  “You must want to freshen up,” Steph offered.

  The long flight followed by the long drive had taken its toll, and the thought of getting clean jumped to the forefront of Lucy’s mind. “Oh, yes please.”

  “Will, can you take Lucy up, hon? I’ve put her in the room next to yours.” What? He’ll be sleeping next door?

  “Sure thing.” She watched as Will carried her case and his up the stairs as though they weighed nothing, then picked up her carry-on and followed.

  “Hot chocolate downstairs when you’re ready,” Steph called after them.

  Hot chocolate sounded divine and so did some thick white toast slathered in butter and Marmite. Lucy was ravenous, and she really wished she’d brought some Marmite with her. She wondered what the Americans would have—peanut butter, she supposed.

  “Here you go,” said Will, leaving his case on the landing and pulling hers into the second door on the left. She followed him. “Every room has its own bathroom; yours is in there.” He pointed to a closed door. “That’s the closet.” He pointed to an identical door on the opposite side of the room. “This place is sorta set up for short stays, so it’s not very big,” he added apologetically. Lucy didn’t know if he meant the bathroom or the closet, but either way, she didn’t care.

  This was already a huge step up from her parents’ house with its one bathroom and second loo downstairs, and her own much-loved two-bedroom-one-bathroom flat, especially as she currently shared the flat with Val.

  “No, this is lovely, really. Thank you. And for carrying my case.” She gestured to where Will had left it next to the door.

  “Sure. So, why don’t you get situated and I’ll see you downstairs when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh, and Lucy?” Lucy stared up into his handsome face. “Take your time. It’s been a long drive.”

  She found herself nodding as he pulled the door closed behind him.

  She looked around the room. It was bigger than any bedroom she’d ever had and was dominated by a king-sized bed replete with fluffy duvet and six (!) pillows. The dressing tables and bedside tables—two of each—were made of varnished pine and seemed brand new. She opened the door to the bathroom to discover a set of fluffy towels in forest green and a selection of toiletries that would make any grown woman cry. Crabtree and Evelyn? This was like staying at a resort!

  There wasn’t a bath, but as well as a huge mirror, a modern basin and toilet, there was a rainwater shower. It called to her in a way that no shower ever had before. “Take your time,” Will had said.

  She stripped off and turned on the taps.

  Only twenty minutes later—she skipped some of her usual ablution steps—she was dressed in a pair of casual trousers and a cashmere jumper, as well as her trusty Ugg boots, a present Chloe had sent for Christmas a few years ago. She pulled up her long, curly hair into a messy bun and didn’t bother with makeup, not wanting to keep Jules’s family waiting too long. Downstairs, she followed the sound of voices to the front room.

  When she entered, the first thing she noticed was that Will wasn’t there. The second was the fireplace. She’d only seen one like that in films. It was nearly as tall as her, with stones across the hearth and up the wall either side, and a thick, rustic mantle made from a single cut of pine.

  On the mantle were a dozen or so framed family photos and her eyes went straight to one of Will as a boy, not much older than when she’d first met him at age seven.

  He’d been so sweet then, if a little rambunctious—all big blue eyes, white-blond hair, and a giant gap-toothed grin—an energetic cherub. Lucy had always wanted a baby brother, so she’d been keen to let him play with them, but Jules hadn’t wanted him tagging along. She had shooed him off, one time making him cry, Lucy remembered.

  Now he was a grown man—a handsome one. Stop it, she rebuked. His mum is right there!

  Steph and Joe were sitting on one of the two leather sofas, her feet in his lap. “Feel better?” asked Steph.

  She grinned. “So much better. That shower is amazing.”

  Steph smiled at her. “Will hasn’t come down yet, but Nate’s in the kitchen, just through there. I’m sure he’d be happy to rustle you up something to eat. You must be starving.”

  “Actually, I was just thinking how much I could murder a slice of toast.” Bemusement flickered across Steph’s face before she replied.

  “Right, and we’ve got wine open, too, if you’d like?” Steph indicated to the open bottle on the low glass coffee table.

  “Oh, no thanks. Ever since you mentioned the hot chocolate …”

  “Oh, Nate’s famous for it.”

  Lucy smiled shyly and left for the kitchen.

  “Hi, sweetheart. Feel good to freshen up?” Nate’s warm smile made Lucy feel right at ease as she climbed onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

  “Brilliant actually. The flight was all right—I mean, it’s only nine hours—but the drive was a little, uh …”

  “Unexpected?”

  She laughed. “Well, yes, that, but at least on an airplane, you can get up and walk about and use the loo. That’s an experience I will never forget.”

  Nate’s eyebrows rose in question just as Will made his appearance.

  “You tel
ling Dad about our adventure?”

  “Do I want to know?” asked Nate.

  “For sure,” said Will.

  “No!” said Lucy at the same time. Will shot her an amused look.

  “Maybe another time, Will,” Lucy countered. His cheeky grin was annoying, but she also found it charming, which made her annoyed with herself.

  “So!” Nate clapped his hands like dads do when they want to change the subject, “you two must be starving.”

  “Well, apparently, someone’s famous for their hot chocolate.”

  “Oh, he’s famous for it all right. What Mom didn’t mention is that it’s full of rum.”

  Lucy’s eyes widened.

  “Are you game?” Will teased.

  The worst that could happen was it would make her sleepy, and considering it was sometime near morning in the UK, feeling sleepy was probably a good thing. Otherwise, she’d be up all night in a post-flight, wide-awake-but-completely-shattered state. And in the absence of mulled wine, spiked hot chocolate sounded divine.

  “I’m definitely game.”

  Nate retrieved two mugs from a tall cupboard and went to the stove where a copper saucepan was steaming. He turned off the heat and ladled the hot chocolate into the mugs. Then he topped each one with a sprinkling of cocoa powder.

  Turning to her and Will, he carefully placed a brimming mug in front of each of them.

  Lucy took a tiny sip, her eyes lighting up. “That’s delicious.” Nate beamed. She took a bigger sip. “That is going down a treat,” she said before she took another.

  “I mean full of rum,” teased Will. “And, believe me, the heat only burns off some of the alcohol.” He took a decent slug of his and Lucy could see his smiling eyes above the rim.

  “Would you like anything to eat?” asked Nate.

  “You’re spoiling me, you know.”

  “Dad doesn’t mind. He spends half his time in the kitchen when we’re here.”

  “It’s true.” She watched as Nate looked about the kitchen lovingly. “She’s my baby; I designed her.” Lucy retrieved the fact that Nate was an architect from her memory.