The Christmas Holiday: The perfect heart-warming read full of festive magic

by Sophie Claire

  ‘Christmas is a difficult time when you’ve lost someone,’ she said quietly, ‘but it doesn’t mean you have to hide away on your own.’

  His forehead pulled into a sharp frown. ‘You sound just like my sister. What I choose to do is my own affair.’

  His clipped words and fierce expression made her step back. He urged his dog on and left. Evie watched them go, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm.

  Just when things between them had started to improve, she’d said the wrong thing. Again.

  Evie listened as her customer finished explaining what she had in mind for the small collection of fabric pieces laid out in front of her. She had chosen some beautiful patterned fabrics in a bold combination of emerald green and fuchsia.

  ‘Do you think that’s too ambitious to do by myself? I’m a beginner, really, but I do enjoy sewing and these fabrics will look perfect in my living room. The videos on YouTube make it look so simple, but maybe it’s harder than I first thought.’

  ‘It’s not too difficult and I think you should definitely have a go, but since it’s your first time, I suggest you make an envelope cushion cover. It’s the simplest design because there are no zips or buttons involved. Here,’ she reached behind the till for a folder she kept especially. ‘This leaflet explains how to do it.’

  ‘Oh! Thank you.’ The lady beamed. But worry lines reappeared as she scanned it.

  ‘I know the technical terms can seem a bit daunting, but it’s really straightforward, I promise. And if you’re unsure about anything at all,’ she reassured the lady, ‘give me a ring or pop in any time.’

  The worry lines vanished. ‘Thanks. I’ll have a go, then—’

  The shrill ring of the telephone interrupted, and they both turned.

  Evie stiffened. Even though Tim had left the pub with a flea in his ear, she still felt nervous every time the phone rang.

  ‘I’ll let you get on,’ said the lady, and collected together all her pieces of fabric. ‘Thanks for all your help. Bye!’

  Evie picked up the phone. ‘The Button Hole. How can I help you?’

  ‘Hello, darling. I tried your mobile but it went straight to answerphone.’

  ‘That’s because I’m at work, Mum.’

  Her mother ignored that and continued: ‘I need to talk to you about Christmas.’

  Evie’s curiosity was piqued. She looked around to check the shop was empty before asking, ‘Christmas? What about it?’

  There was a whisper of hesitation before the reply came: ‘We’ve been invited to Rupert and Angela’s.’

  Tim’s parents. Evie frowned. ‘When? I don’t understand.’

  She couldn’t mean …

  ‘On Christmas Day …’

  Evie’s head swam. She reached for a stool and sat down heavily. ‘No!’

  ‘And we’ll stay the night, of course. That way we can have a few drinks and not have to worry about driving.’

  ‘You’re not going to accept, are you?’

  ‘We’re thinking about it. That’s why I called – to see what you think.’

  There must be something she hadn’t understood. Her parents couldn’t really expect her to go along with this, could they? ‘Will Tim be there?’

  ‘Of course. And with all that mistletoe around, you never know what might happen.’

  ‘Mum, I can’t go! You – you can’t expect me to.’

  ‘Oh, Evie, please. Think about it.’

  She was, and the thought alone was making her break out in a cold sweat.

  ‘They’re our closest friends—’

  ‘Tim did the dirty on me! Have you forgotten that?’

  ‘This isn’t just about you, Evie,’ her mother went on. ‘And – and it might be nice to do something different for Christmas.’

  She heard the wistful edge in her mother’s voice and Evie bit her lip. The undercurrent of pain and the unspoken message were clear. This time of year was so hard without Zara. Maybe it would be good for them to do something different …

  Evie was torn. On the one hand, she wanted to help them get through the holidays in any way she could. If being with friends helped them escape the pain, Evie was willing to consider it. On the other, she couldn’t spend Christmas with Tim. Anyone but him.

  Was that selfish of her? Should she be trying harder to lay aside her own feelings for her parents’ sake?

  She looked up. One of the giant decorative cotton reels suspended from the ceiling spun lazily to the right, then to the left. She closed her eyes. What should she do?

  ‘Evie! It’s me! Evie – are you there?’

  Jake banged on the door of her cottage, faintly aware that he was making enough noise to disturb the whole lane. His heart thumped against his ribcage just as hard as his fist was pounding the white-painted wood.

  ‘Evie—’ he began again, but the door swung open.

  ‘Jake! What?’

  ‘Smoke,’ he cut in breathlessly. ‘Is he here?’

  ‘Smoke? No. Why?’

  The words tumbled from his mouth: ‘He ran away. I was walking him in the fields near the village when some kids let off fireworks. It spooked him. He just bolted! I thought – hoped – he might have come to you.’

  He held up the redundant lead, and his fist was white with tension. What if Smoke got hit by a car? What if he spent the whole night out in these sub-zero temperatures? Jake couldn’t bear to think of it. He stared down the lane into the darkness.

  ‘Oh, no!’ Evie pulled the belt of her dressing-gown tighter.

  ‘He was gone in a flash. I ran after him, but it was so dark I lost him within seconds. I’ve been looking for him for ages, calling him. I’ve been back to the house, thinking he might have found his way home, but there’s no sign of him anywhere. Nothing. I don’t know where he is …’ His voice broke and he raked a hand through his hair. He couldn’t hide his despair. Or his fear for the dog. ‘Smoke—’

  He couldn’t put it into words. Smoke meant everything to him. During the last few years they’d been through it all together. The darkest of times.

  ‘Okay. Think. Where were you when he ran off?’ asked Evie. ‘Which direction did he run in?’

  ‘We were by the stream. And he ran towards the village.’

  ‘Right – let me grab my coat and a torch, and I’ll help you look for him.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said weakly. It wouldn’t make any difference – he’d looked everywhere already – but it was good of her to offer and two pairs of eyes were better than one.

  ‘Have you called Luc?’ she asked, when she reappeared a moment later, wearing her red coat and an enormous scarf. As she pushed her feet into a pair of furry boots he realised she was wearing pyjamas.

  ‘No – I – ah …’ Evie was the first person he’d thought of, he realised.

  ‘Why don’t you call him now? Ask him to check the area near Poppy Cottage, and then perhaps he could go up to the Old Hall in case Smoke does find his way back. I’ll call a few friends too.’

  Jake nodded and pulled out his phone. While he spoke to Luc, Evie knocked at her neighbours’ doors, and soon they were joined in the narrow lane by a small huddle of people.

  ‘This is George,’ Evie told him, as he hung up. Jake nodded at the man with the greying beard. ‘George is a retired fireman.’

  ‘I’ve looked for a few missing pets in my time,’ George said proudly. ‘Don’t worry, Mr H. We’ll conduct a thorough search of the village.’

  ‘We will,’ said the middle-aged lady beside him. ‘Poor animal. Stupid kids messing about with fireworks. If I find out who it was, I’ll give them a good talking-to!’

  ‘Where did you last see the dog?’

  Jake pointed. ‘Just outside the village, over there.’

  George followed his gaze. ‘We’ll fan out in groups to search the village itself and the nearby fields. Evie?’ He turned to her. ‘Stay with Mr Hartwood and we’ll call you straight away if we find Smoke.’

  She nodded and
checked her phone was on full volume.

  ‘Right, everybody,’ George continued. He’d divided everyone into small groups and now he pointed at each in turn. ‘You take that street, you head for the village green …’

  ‘Come on,’ Evie told Jake. ‘Try not to worry – he’s a really intelligent dog. He’s probably just hiding somewhere and he’ll come out when he’s calmed down. We’ll find him.’

  Jake followed her red coat down the lane towards the village green. As they scoured the pavements and hedges for any sign of a cowering Dalmatian, doors were opening and more people emerging with torches and dog whistles. Soon there were dozens of them, in couples and small groups, all searching and calling Smoke’s name. And Jake felt the tight knot in his chest give a little. Warmth seeped through him: these people he’d never met had, without hesitation, come out to help with the search. To help him.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘I shouldn’t have gone out so late with him,’ said Jake, as they followed the road to the edge of the village and checked the stream carefully. ‘I meant to take him out earlier, but a customer called, then I got tied up with paperwork …’

  Evie pointed her torch at the bushes, checking carefully behind each one. ‘There’s no point blaming yourself. You were just unlucky those kids were setting off fireworks.’

  He shone his torch across the water. At this time of year the stream was full, the water icy. Evie tried not to think about that. She tried not to think about poor Smoke, lost out there somewhere in the dark, scared and alone.

  ‘I should have been quicker to clip his lead on, I should have …’ He sighed and shook his head. The torch dropped to his side. ‘If anything happens to him …’

  Evie had never seen this side of Jake Hartwood before. Pale, tight-lipped and tense, yes, but never so openly fraught with worry. With emotion. How much had it cost him to ask for help when usually he kept his interactions with others to a bare minimum?

  ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s carry on along this road.’

  As they climbed back up the bank, she could see torch beams further down the lane, and heard people calling Smoke’s name. Everyone shared the same concern: they were all pulling together to look for the Dalmatian. And with all these people searching the village, they were bound to find him eventually. In the meantime, she needed to help Jake stay calm.

  ‘How long have you had Smoke?’ she asked, deciding that distraction might help.

  ‘Since he was a puppy.’

  She shone her torch on the snow-covered shrubs and pots of flowers clustered around the front doors of the stone cottages. In the dim street lighting they took on ghostly shapes and their shadows stretched and waved. But Evie kept hoping she’d find the Dalmatian’s distinctive black and white spots.

  ‘You bought him?’

  ‘No. I found him. Or, rather, he found me. He turned up on our doorstep one day. We thought he’d been run over because he was bruised and beaten, but in fact his behaviour suggested he’d been maltreated by his previous owner.’

  We? Did he mean him and his wife?

  ‘He was timid?’

  Jake nodded. ‘He cowered when we came near him. It was a while before he learned to trust us. Anyway, I took him to the vet, who treated him and advised me to take him to the rescue shelter once his injuries had healed.’

  ‘Did you?’

  They reached the end of the road and turned the corner. The lights became brighter as they walked back towards the village centre and here the street was clear of snow. Their footsteps were amplified by the sleepy silence.

  ‘I took him, but when I got there, I changed my mind and couldn’t leave him.’ He clamped his mouth shut, unforthcoming as always.

  Evie smiled, knowing that his words concealed a deep well of love for his dog. ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know. Seeing the other dogs all caged up and so big, when he was just a small puppy and had been through so much …’ He shrugged. ‘Plus he was already showing signs of attachment.’

  ‘Smoke adores you.’

  ‘He’s misguided. He’s just grateful I don’t hurt him like his previous owner.’

  ‘Nonsense! Is he friendly with everyone?’

  ‘Actually, he’s mostly wary of strangers. You were the exception.’

  ‘When did you find him?’

  ‘Three years ago.’

  Before his wife had died, Evie calculated. ‘So he knew Maria?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She was glad Smoke had been there to help Jake through the difficult times after her death. He needed Smoke as much as the dog needed him.

  ‘He was gentle with her even before her tumour was diagnosed. It was as if he knew what we didn’t. And he was a huge help to me after she died. There were mornings when he coaxed me out of bed. If he hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I would have done …’ He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to: it was all there in his eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr H,’ said George, after they’d been searching for two hours. It was almost midnight. ‘We’ve done all we can for tonight. I’ll go out first thing tomorrow when it’s light, but until then it’s best we all get some sleep.’

  Jake gave a tight nod, but Evie knew he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep. She squeezed his arm. ‘Smoke will be all right,’ she told him. ‘He’s a clever dog. And, you never know, he may find his way back to the Old Hall.’

  He didn’t reply and his look of fear tugged at her heart. She watched as he drove away in his old car, and in her coat pockets she crossed her fingers tight.

  ‘If the dog’s run for the fields, we’ve no hope of finding him in the dark,’ said George, as they trudged back to Love Lane.

  ‘Jake didn’t think he would do that. Smoke has a few chosen routes that he prefers, and he loves the village.’ The Dalmatian was the opposite of his owner: friendly and uninhibited. At least, he was with her.

  ‘We’ve conducted a thorough search of the village. If he was here, we’d have found him by now.’

  Evie’s heart sank as she pictured the dog alone in the snow-covered hills. ‘But it’s so cold. He’ll struggle to keep warm in the snow.’

  George patted her on the shoulder. ‘Dogs aren’t stupid. They have excellent survival instincts. I’ve no doubt he’ll find himself somewhere warm to curl up.’

  ‘I really hope you’re right, George.’

  Back at the Old Hall, Jake put bowls of food and water outside by the front door, in the desperate hope the smell might carry and lure his dog home if he was nearby, then paced around the hall. He couldn’t go to bed. If Smoke came home and Jake was upstairs, he wouldn’t hear him. And he was too agitated to rest anyway.

  He’d already searched the gardens earlier, but he searched them again, calling for Smoke, stopping and listening, hoping to hear a distant bark. But the night was silent, the snowy fields glowed white, and down in the valley the village was a cluster of faint gold lights. After doing five laps of the house and gardens, he ran a hand through his hair, and looked to the sky for inspiration. What more could he do?

  Nothing. He had to wait. His head was beginning to spin with exhaustion, and his legs felt shaky. He went back inside.

  Leaving the front door ajar in case Smoke came home, he made a makeshift bed for himself with sofa cushions and a duvet. He set up a heater nearby to ward off the chill, then lay down and stared at the sliver of sky through the open door.

  It was cloudless, which meant the temperature would drop.

  He closed his eyes briefly, and despair rolled in. You’ve got to prepare yourself for the worst, Hartwood.

  He knew how cruel life could be. Just because you loved someone it didn’t mean they’d be immune to harm, that they’d always be there with you. There were no guarantees. Needing and loving only made the wrench more violent when the worst happened.

  The stars blurred and a fat tear slipped down his cheek. He tasted salt.

  He owed Smoke his life. Without a doubt, he couldn
’t have got through the period after Maria’s death without him. When everyone else, even family, had backed away from his flares of anger, frustration and silence, Smoke had stayed at his side, asking only for food and a bed. Undemanding. Faithful.

  And look how badly Jake had let him down tonight. He rolled onto his side. Christ, he hadn’t believed he was capable of feeling so much, but his chest squeezed as he pictured Smoke shivering in the dark.

  This was the price you paid for letting anyone close.

  He’d thought he’d lost everything when Maria died, but now he knew he’d been wrong.

  Evie groaned as her alarm went off. She opened one eye to read the time. Why had she set it for so early? She’d had only a few hours’ sleep after staying up so late searching for Smoke.

  The workshop. That was why. She had a group of ten people coming to learn how to make a padded tablet cover, and there were still a few things she needed to prepare.

  She got up and checked her phone. No message from Jake. Or anyone else. Her heart sank.

  Resolving to phone Jake later, she grabbed a quick shower, pulled on a stripy sweater dress, and drove to the Button Hole. It was still dark, the village quiet. She parked her car and hurried towards the shop. As she turned the corner, she rooted in her bag for the keys. She was a short distance away from the shop when she noticed a shadow on the pavement by the door. She squinted in the dim light and increased her pace.

  ‘Smoke? No, it can’t be …’ The shape was too small, too still.

  The shape moved. Two eyes gleamed, and as she drew closer, the spotted coat was unmistakable. The dog barked and leaped to his feet.

  ‘Smoke!’ she cried, as he jumped up to greet her. ‘Oh, my goodness! You found your way back. You clever, clever dog! I can’t believe it!’

  Smoke barked again and wagged his tail.

  Evie reached into her pocket, not wasting any time before calling Jake. While she waited for it to ring, she petted Smoke. ‘I know someone who’s going to be so happy we found you.’

  Evie had barely switched off her car engine before Jake pulled open the passenger door and Smoke bounded out to greet him, with a lot of excited tail-wagging.