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

by Sophie Claire

  ‘I can’t face seeing Tim.’ She looked away.

  Ah.

  Perhaps Louisa’s idea wasn’t such a bad one, after all. Now he felt guilty for reacting so angrily. Evie would leap to the conclusion that he didn’t want to spend the holiday with her. Which wasn’t true. He enjoyed her company, valued her friendship. But friendship was all it was. All it could be. His mind returned to that kiss. Pretend it never happened had been easy to say, but would it be as simple to follow if they were alone together for a week?

  He stopped himself. Evie was desperate to escape her family. He wasn’t going to stop her coming to France because he lacked self-control. There would be no repeat of that kiss. He had this under control. He did.

  ‘As far as I can see,’ said Louisa, ‘you’re good friends and you both have reasons why you want to get away.’

  Evie put her hand on Louisa’s arm. ‘Louisa, stop. Jake doesn’t want me there. He wants to be alone and I get that. I’d drive him mad.’

  ‘Not true. Though I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t drive you mad.’ He tried to picture the two of them alone in Luc’s villa, and found his pulse picked up at the prospect.

  ‘That’s okay. I know what you’re like – cranky, antisocial, rude …’

  Her teasing smile set off a ripple of heat. He did his best to ignore it. ‘What about your shop? Could you leave it for a week? And so close to Christmas?’

  ‘There’s more snow forecast tomorrow so I don’t expect to have many customers until the new year.’

  He nodded. ‘You understand, don’t you, that I don’t want the rigmarole of meals and gifts and rituals? I want to pretend Christmas isn’t happening.’

  ‘I know,’ she said softly, and their eyes connected. ‘I understand.’

  Another thought occurred to him. ‘How will your parents take it?’

  ‘Oh, they’ll be fine. Going away with a friend is a legitimate excuse for missing Christmas. They’ll probably read too much into it and start planning my wedd—’ She stopped suddenly, and two red spots coloured her cheeks. ‘Of course, we both know it wouldn’t mean anything. We’re just friends.’

  ‘You can wipe that smirk off your face,’ he told his sister. ‘We are just friends.’

  ‘Of course you are,’ said Louisa, though amusement danced in her eyes.

  Evie bit her lip. ‘But I’ve just had a thought – how much would it cost? Things have picked up at the Button Hole, but I can’t afford to blow all my profits on a holiday.’

  ‘Luc isn’t charging me any rent for the villa and, technically, it’s a business trip so I’ll pay any utility bills. And the flights are really cheap. I had a look this afternoon.’

  ‘So what do you say?’ Louisa asked Evie.

  Jake realised, to his surprise, that he wanted her to come. And after being so uncouth earlier, he felt he should make amends. ‘If you agree to come with me, Evie, my sister will be reassured that I’m not alone, and she might finally get off my back.’

  Louisa confirmed this with an eager nod.

  Evie beamed. ‘You have a deal then, Mr A,’ she said, and reached across the table to shake his hand. ‘Let’s escape Christmas together.’

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘What did your parents say?’ asked Jake. ‘I don’t want to be the cause of tension between you.’

  Evie laughed. ‘Tension? There’s nothing but tension between me and my parents. I don’t think there’ll ever be anything else.’ She put the rotary cutter down and shuffled the squares of fabric she’d cut into a neat stack. ‘They were fine about it. Relieved, in fact. Apparently this means they can spend Christmas with Tim’s parents without worrying about me “sulking”.’

  She blinked hard. In their eyes Tim would always be perfect husband material and she was a fool for turning him down. What would it take for them to listen to her? To side with her just once?

  But all that stuff was exactly what she was hoping to get away from. She loved the idea of escaping Christmas, with all the tension, emotion and memories it brought. A week away in the winter sun with Jake. Her skin tightened. It would be perfect. No complications, no demands. Just friendship and good company. She couldn’t wait.

  ‘Who will look after Smoke while you’re away?’ she asked, picking up the bolt of fabric and crossing the shop to put it back on the shelf.

  ‘Heidi always has him. He loves it there. Actually, I’d better go – I said I’d drop him this afternoon.’

  ‘I can’t believe we’re leaving tomorrow!’ Evie had to stop herself bouncing on the spot. ‘I’m so excited! I love a bit of last-minute spontaneity.’

  Jake’s lip twitched. ‘You did check your passport is still valid, didn’t you?’

  She sighed. ‘You just love being a kill-joy, don’t you? Yes, it’s valid.’

  ‘Good. Well, I’ll pick you up tomorrow – early.’ He glanced out of the window. ‘Provided this snow doesn’t get any deeper and hamper our journey.’

  ‘I’m sure it won’t.’

  He went to leave, then stopped. ‘Thanks, by the way.’

  ‘What for?’

  His blue eyes fixed on her. ‘For agreeing to come.’

  ‘I’m seeing this trip as a Get Out of Jail Free card. It’s got me off the hook.’

  ‘Well, I appreciate it. My sister went home much happier.’

  She tilted her head. ‘You’re lucky – she cares about you.’

  ‘I know.’ He weighed the car keys in his hand. ‘I know.’

  They arrived in Nice the next morning. With only two days left until Christmas, the airport was bustling, but a gentleman in a smart suit was waiting serenely to greet them. In his hand a set of keys jingled as he led them to the other side of the car park.

  Evie’s eyes widened as they stopped beside a small open-topped car parked away from the rest. It was cherry red and vintage. ‘Is that the car you’ve hired?’

  Jake nodded. ‘A 1960s Alfa Romeo Giulia Spider,’ he said reverently.

  She knew he loved classic cars, but it hadn’t occurred to her that he’d hire one abroad.

  ‘You want to look at her first?’ asked the gentleman in accented English.

  Evie stood back as Jake walked around the car, pausing to examine the paintwork and inspect the tyres. Sunlight bounced off the silver bumper and headlights. The car was beautiful in its simplicity, but she hoped the boot would be big enough for all their luggage. She hadn’t travelled light. She’d filled half a case with a quilt she was working on.

  When Jake straightened up, his blue eyes gleamed like jewels in the sun and she felt a little wobbly to see his usual scowl replaced with such delight.

  Once he’d signed the papers and they were alone, he asked, ‘So what do you think?’

  Evie looked at the dashboard, with its retro dials and the comically simple gearstick by her knees. ‘It’s quirky, but wouldn’t a modern car be more reliable?’

  ‘Probably,’ he conceded, ‘but it wouldn’t be beautiful or steeped in history.’ He smoothed his hands over the slim steering wheel. ‘This is a design classic, perfect for the area. If you could go back in time you’d see dozens of these driving around the French Riviera. Ready to go?’

  ‘Aren’t you going to put the roof up? It’s not that warm.’

  ‘I can, if you want, but I like to feel the wind on my face. It’s more … authentic.’

  ‘I see. Well, if we’re going to be authentic …’ Evie slipped on her sunglasses and grinned. ‘I feel like Brigitte Bardot.’

  She couldn’t believe how sunny it was, the air fresh with the scent of pine. This was so glamorous and exciting, a world away from what she’d thought she’d be doing today. Her parents were probably packing to go to Rupert and Angela’s tomorrow. She could picture exactly what would happen when they arrived: there would be sherry before dinner, then a long-drawn-out meal in Rupert and Angela’s splendid dining room. And Tim.

  She inhaled deeply, so glad that Jake had thought of coming here.r />
  He started the engine. ‘Right. Let’s go, then.’

  ‘Not far now,’ said Jake. ‘The turning is somewhere on the left. Ah – there it is!’

  They turned off the road at two slightly shabby-looking iron gates, then wound up a snaking drive through forest. The villa finally came into view.

  ‘Luc said it was a wreck when he bought it,’ said Jake. ‘He completely rebuilt the frontage.’

  It was luxurious but not extravagant, a simple architectural design with Italianate touches, such as tall, arched windows and a voluptuous balustrade along the front.

  Evie’s eyes widened. ‘He did a great job. It’s beautiful.’

  They parked in the shade of an umbrella pine and she raced up the stone steps to check out the huge terrace.

  ‘Wow! Look at that view!’ she said, gripping the balustrade. ‘I can’t believe we can see the sea!’

  Her excitement sparked a little thrill of pleasure in him. ‘We’re very high up here on the hillside.’ Though they were a good way inland.

  He strolled around the side of the villa and looked out at the olive trees, pines and shrubs that stretched away into the forest behind. He hoped he’d done the right thing coming here, and that the memories didn’t follow, snapping at his heels as they so often did. He just wanted respite from it all. This trip had been spur-of-the-moment, but now it was reality he wondered. Had he thought it through properly? Had Evie? Would she really be happy hiding away from the world – with him?

  He heard light footsteps approaching and she appeared around the corner. Her apple scent invaded his senses as she joined him, and he tensed. Throughout the journey here he’d been troubled by the way he responded to her, the flickering of desire. Would being here with her bring its own complications?

  ‘There’s a village about ten minutes’ walk away with a bakery, a restaurant and a bar,’ he said, as she joined him. ‘Other than that, this place is pretty secluded so we’re guaranteed complete privacy.’

  ‘Is that your only goal in life?’ she teased. ‘To avoid human interaction?’

  ‘We’ve come here to get away from it all. Not to spend time with strangers.’

  ‘Well, it’s perfect. I love it!’ She spun on her heel, closing her eyes and savouring the sun’s heat on her face.

  He watched her with amusement and felt a tightening in his stomach. The sound of leaves rustling carried on the breeze like music.

  They were friends, nothing more. Granted, that kiss had left him with a residual awareness of her, but he had enough self-restraint to deal with that. She wouldn’t notice a thing. They would simply be two friends escaping their families and enjoying a break in the South of France. What could be more straightforward?

  ‘Want to choose your bedroom?’ he asked.

  ‘I get first pick? Yes, definitely!’

  He lifted their cases out of the car and she followed him into the enormous house. Upstairs there were several bedrooms, and she went wide-eyed from one to the next.

  ‘They’re all so gorgeous and elegant – it’s impossible to choose!’ She lifted a finger to her chin as she weighed up her decision. ‘I’ll have that one,’ she said in the end, ‘because it has the most beautiful bedcover.’

  ‘Does it?’ He looked again at the faded red and ivory patterned fabric. Granted, it did have a faintly regal air, or perhaps that was simply down to the size of the enormous bed.

  ‘Yes! That’s a Toile de Jouy. It’s gorgeous!’

  Evie crossed the large, airy room and flung open the French windows, which gave onto a small private balcony. ‘Look at that view! I’ll be able to see the sea from my bed when I wake up!’

  The corner of his lip curved. ‘Calm down, Pollyanna,’ he said. ‘I’m worried this trip is provoking too much excitement in you. You’re like that orphan girl when she goes home with the millionaire.’

  She grinned and took the cue to launch into her favourite song from Annie.

  Jake rolled his eyes. ‘I’ll be next door,’ he said, and disappeared with his case.

  ‘How about we drive to the next town and visit the market?’ Jake suggested, when they’d unpacked. ‘If we’re quick, we’ll catch the tail end of it and we can stock up on food. I’ve booked the restaurant for this evening but tomorrow is Christmas Eve and everywhere will be shut around here.’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  They drove for twenty minutes and parked in the street, like everyone else. Their car attracted curious looks and animated discussion among the men sitting outside the tabac opposite, but Jake didn’t stop to chat. Instead, he led her directly to the market.

  It was a riot of colour and vibrant noise. The stallholders all shouted to each other and chatted happily to their customers, who were filling baskets with fruit and vegetables, meat and fish. Evie was so busy taking it all in that she tripped on somebody’s trolley. Jake caught her. ‘You okay?’ he asked.

  ‘Fine,’ she said, blushing furiously as she straightened her sunglasses. Forget Brigitte Bardot – she was very much still clumsy Evie Miller.

  ‘What do you think?’ he asked, steering her out of the way of an oncoming pushchair.

  ‘It beats queuing in the supermarket back home! It’s wonderful. And there’s so much here, too!’ Not just food, but also fresh flowers, straw bags, leather goods, jewellery, clothes – the list was never-ending and there was a surprise around every corner. ‘Look – there’s some Provençal fabric! I’ve heard about it but never seen it in real life.’

  She stopped to examine the huge rolls of vibrant cotton material. They were so unusual, and the colours so intense: deep red, rich ochre, and a blue as inky as the Mediterranean sky. She smoothed her fingers over the napkins and tablecloths that had been sewn from them. These fabrics would be perfect for quilting, and they’d add a truly unique touch her customers would love.

  But she’d only just got her finances under control: she couldn’t justify spending heaps of money on a whim. Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away.

  ‘How about we buy a chicken to roast?’ suggested Jake, when they strolled past the meat stall.

  ‘Great idea,’ said Evie. Anyone listening to them could be forgiven for thinking they were a married couple. The thought sent a little vibration buzzing through her, but she brushed it aside.

  ‘I know a recipe for a vegetable bake that would go nicely with it,’ said Jake, as they left the stall. ‘They call it a tian around here. It’s very simple to make.’

  Evie nodded and made a few suggestions of her own for easy meals they could put together over the next few days. Glancing at the Christmas tree in the village square, she wondered if Jake would buy something special to eat on Christmas Day, but he didn’t mention it so she kept quiet. The whole point of coming here was to get away from the festivities. There was no pressure whatsoever to cook a special meal or decorate a tree or follow any of the other seasonal customs, and that was liberating.

  When they’d finished at the market, Jake gave her a quick tour of the town before they stopped for a snack in one of the cafés that lined the main road. ‘So where are we going tonight?’ asked Evie.

  ‘It’s called Le Rouge Gorge. It’s a tiny place but the food is remarkable. The chef is a French grandmère who loves cooking. The story is that when her four children grew up and left home, she hated cooking only for herself, so she opened a restaurant.’

  ‘Sounds fantastic.’

  ‘It is.’ He glanced at her jeans and rainbow-striped sweater. ‘Did you bring something smart? The locals tend to dress up for it.’

  ‘Ready?’

  Evie pulled at the neckline of her dress, glancing nervously at her reflection in the mirror. ‘Yes,’ she said hesitantly.

  Natasha had warned her that the temperature dropped quite low in the evening, so she’d brought a cream knitted dress, which she’d made and embellished with red and orange beads. She loved the long chunky sleeves and the A-line shape, which nipped in at the waist, but was it too revea
ling?

  ‘Stop fussing,’ said Jake, who was waiting by the door, car keys in his hand. ‘You look lovely.’

  Her head jerked up, eyes wide.

  ‘Why the astonished look?’

  ‘I – I don’t know. I thought – is it a bit tight? I must have put on weight …’

  ‘Forget what your ex told you! None of it was true. You’re a beautiful woman, Evie Miller, and you look great in that dress. Feminine, shapely …’ He swept his gaze over her and seemed to struggle to find the words. ‘You look beautiful,’ he said finally.

  ‘Thanks.’ Her cheeks seared with heat. ‘If you didn’t look so angry, I’d think you were paying me a compliment.’

  ‘I’m angry that that idiot ex of yours is still influencing you, eating away at your confidence. You have a figure other women would envy, and those colours suit you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

  Beautiful, feminine, shapely. Wow. She felt herself grow a little taller at this vote of confidence. And he was right. She shouldn’t care about Tim’s opinion.

  ‘You look good yourself.’ She smiled, with a nod to Jake’s smart but sombre jacket and trousers. Although she wished he would sometimes wear something other than black, navy and grey.

  They arrived at the restaurant, which looked tiny and unassuming from the outside, but as the waiter led them to their table Evie realised the interior was bigger than it appeared, with lots of alcoves and rooms that led to others. She sat down opposite Jake and tried to concentrate on reading the menu, but his words had unsettled her. He was making her feel things she shouldn’t. Making her tingle inside, her blood quicken, sending heat coiling through her body.

  But she mustn’t let it go to her head. The compliment may have meant a lot to her, but for him it had been an inconsequential remark.

  They ordered, and Evie tucked in to her starter of homemade terrine and crispy thin toast. The food was delicious, and she loved the rustic decorations of pottery, woven straw and wicker that hung from the exposed beams. The restaurant had a timeless charm with a great atmosphere.

  ‘Do you like the food?’ asked Jake, and sipped his water.