If Every Day Was Christmas: A gorgeous and heart-warming Christmas romance

by Donna Ashcroft

  ‘Are you okay?’ Tom asked, bringing the car to a complete stop, suppressing a shudder at the blast of frigid air. The walkers were both women, neither very tall. One was older with short blonde hair covered almost entirely by a red beret. She wore a matching snowsuit and thick boots that wouldn’t have been out of place in the Alps. She was attractive, probably in her late forties. Her mouth looked like it had spent a lot of its life making worried shapes, and as a result was framed by deep lines. A girl with the same heart-shaped face and blonde hair stood beside her, looking miserable. She had a pack on her back, a guitar bag in one hand and the handle of her suitcase in the crook of her other arm. If Tom had to guess, he’d say she was around eighteen. Her hair had been pushed inside a black bobble hat and her snowsuit looked too small – it was constricting rather than hugging her body and ended just above her boots, leaving a silver of vivid pink skin exposed to the elements.

  ‘How far is Lockton?’ the older woman asked, searching the white road as if she could conjure up a tropical oasis. You couldn’t see the village yet, just the top of a hill. But Tom knew if they continued walking, it would be dark before they arrived.

  ‘It’s a way still,’ he said. ‘I’m headed in that direction, I can give you a lift.’

  The woman moved her frown from the road to him, flicking her eyes to the back window where Cooper was staring at them. ‘Is it safe?’

  ‘He’s more inclined to lick you than bite – and I’m not an axe-murderer.’ Tom tried a joke but it was greeted with silence.

  ‘I’m not sure you’d admit to it if you were,’ the girl muttered through chattering teeth. Without waiting for the older woman to respond, or for Tom to help, she opened the back door and climbed up, encouraging Cooper to move to the other side of the seat as he attempted to lick her.

  ‘Emily,’ the woman squeaked, going pale. ‘I know you adore animals but that dog might bite – you could end up with worms, or something far worse.’

  The girl patted Cooper on the head as she took off her pack, then lifted the huge suitcase up with both hands and plonked it by her feet, pulling the guitar bag onto her lap and closing the door. ‘Relax, Mum, he’s really friendly. Besides, I’m prepared to risk it. It’s either that or hypothermia. As you’ve probably guessed, I’m Emily.’ The girl reached her icy gloved hand into the front.

  Tom turned and took it as the older woman let out an uneasy sigh and stomped carefully around the front of the car, before climbing into the passenger side with her luggage. ‘Kitty.’ She gave Tom a cautious handshake before linking her fingers and placing them in her lap, glancing over her shoulder uneasily at Cooper.

  ‘Tom.’ He closed his window and switched the heat up to maximum. ‘Where to?’

  ‘Meg’s Christmas Shop and Cafe,’ Kitty answered. ‘Apparently it’s somewhere on the village high street?’

  Tom nodded and set off slowly, wondering how the women knew Meg and if she was expecting them. ‘Did you have car trouble?’ he asked after a few moments, feeling honour-bound to fill the awkward silence. He could see the girl in the back glancing at her mobile and hoped she hadn’t recognised him. He’d let his hair grow and had been contemplating cultivating a beard, but hadn’t got round to it. Besides, he hadn’t been recognised that often even when he had been in the business. Fans had been more familiar with the whole band and their music than the members’ individual looks.

  ‘We got a bus from Inverness airport and it dropped us in a place called Morridon.’ Kitty sounded frustrated. ‘I had a taxi booked from there, but the man got a call from his wife because his daughter had just gone into early labour so he had to turn back. He offered to find us another driver when we arrived in Morridon, but—’

  ‘Mum didn’t want to wait,’ Emily muttered. ‘She thought we could walk so asked him to drop us where we were – but it was further than we expected and we’re not really dressed for the cold.’

  Kitty fiddled with the collar of her puffy jacket. ‘If you’d let me buy you a new snowsuit when I asked, you wouldn’t be wearing the one I got you three years ago. You’ll catch your death.’ She glared at Emily’s outfit. ‘You’ve only just got over your last illness.’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting to make a last-minute trip to the North Pole. It’s not like I need to dress like the Michelin Man in North London, and I’m as fit and healthy as you are.’ Emily was looking at her screen again, her nimble fingers skipping across it. ‘There’s no signal.’ Her tone was indignant. ‘Does anyone even have a phone up here?’

  ‘The signal’s patchy.’ Tom supressed a smile. ‘Keep trying and you’ll get one every now and again. When it appears, it’s worth making the most of it.’

  ‘How do people communicate?’ Emily shoved the mobile into her pocket with a heavy sigh of disgust.

  ‘They use their mouths,’ Kitty said. ‘I’m sure you’ll get used to it after a while. It’ll do you good to meet some new people. You spend far too much time on that phone. It’s not healthy. You’ve been looking very pale these last few weeks.’

  Emily caught Tom’s gaze in the rear-view mirror and pulled a face. Then her eyes suddenly narrowed and she leaned forward, as if trying to get a better look. Tom dipped his head, hoping it put his face into shadow, and watched the road, relieved they were getting closer to Lockton. ‘So you’re from London?’ he asked, as Emily leaned back and began to tap a tune onto the guitar case with her fingertips. It had a solid beat and Tom had to stop his foot from tapping along or his mind from forming lyrics.

  ‘Yes,’ Kitty said reluctantly, turning her head to look at the mountains to their right and letting out an almost imperceptible ‘wow’. ‘We left before dawn. The flight was delayed and it took longer to get here than I thought.’

  ‘We’re visiting my sister. She moved up three years ago. It was the furthest she could get from us without emigrating,’ Emily joked. Her fingers stopped tapping and she frowned. ‘Her name is Meg Scott. You might know her?’

  ‘We’ve met.’ Tom nodded, forcing back the jolt of awareness when her face filled his mind. ‘Staying long?’ He hoped it would be a brief trip. He could feel Emily’s attention fixed on the back of his head, imagined the shimmer of confusion in her eyes as she tried to work out why he looked familiar.

  ‘Not sure yet,’ Kitty answered. ‘I’m a health and safety consultant and I can work anywhere, so our plans are fluid. We’ve not seen Meg for months.’

  ‘I just hope she’s got decent WiFi,’ Emily cut in.

  ‘Your sister’s not a Luddite.’ Her mother sighed. ‘At least, I hope not,’ she added.

  ‘Is Meg expecting you?’ Tom wasn’t sure why he seemed so determined to extend the conversation.

  ‘Oh no, this is going to be a big surprise,’ Emily said.

  ‘I’m sure your sister will be delighted to see us.’ But Kitty sounded worried, and they all lapsed into silence.

  As the car reached the edge of Lockton, Tom let out a relieved breath. They drove slowly past the Christmas Promise Tree which was dotted with more glass baubles now, all filled with pieces of paper in a selection of bright colours. The number had multiplied in the days since Tom had arrived in the village. There were handmade decorations hanging on fences and lampposts too, and a garland had been strewn around the wishing well – complete with knitted musical instruments, baubles, snowmen and a couple of Father Christmases.

  After another minute, Tom pulled up outside Meg’s shop, taking in the charming grey-fronted facade and pretty gold lettering on the sign. A mixture of glass baubles and tinsel had been hung around the windows, and a dozen or so Christmas trees wrapped in white netting leaned against the glass on either side of the door. Everything outside was covered in a thin layer of snow that sparkled in the cold air. The lights were on in the shop, signalling it was still open. Tom hopped out of his car as Kitty unlocked her door and hauled the suitcase onto the snow without waiting. He opened the back and took the guitar bag from Emily, ignoring the wrench in the pit o
f his stomach that he hadn’t been expecting. He helped her down and grabbed the suitcase, heaving them both to Meg’s store where they joined Kitty.

  ‘Thank you,’ Kitty said. ‘I’m sorry I was a bit miserable in the car – travelling always brings out the worst in me, especially when things don’t go to plan. I was worried about Emily.’ She pushed the shop door open and a ginger tabby cat darted from behind one of the nearby trees into the store as ‘Jingle Bells’ began to play, signalling their arrival. Then Kitty rolled her suitcase onto the dark wooden floor, and turned to hold the door open for Emily.

  Her daughter stood for a moment as she checked Tom out, her eyes narrowing again as she scoured his face. He found himself holding his breath until she finally shook her head and smiled shyly. ‘Thanks for helping us.’

  ‘No problem.’ He shrugged, backing away a little, catching sight of a snowman shape through the decorated windows. Emily took the suitcase and held her hand out for the guitar, and Tom reluctantly handed it over, instantly missing the familiar weight. Then he stood on the pavement, watching as the door shut behind them, muffling the sound of ‘Jingle Bells’.

  Tom opened his car door, and as he climbed into the driver’s seat he forced himself not to turn and glance through the shop window again to see if he could catch a glimpse of Meg.

  Five

  Meg placed more glass baubles into the cardboard box in her stockroom, ready for when she would take them to the Promise Tree later. They’d been selling like hotcakes today as people rushed to get their promises ready before it was too late, especially now it was the eighth of December. She hummed happily as ‘Jingle Bells’ began to play, signalling another customer, and placed the last few baubles into the box before heading into the shop – where she came to a sudden stop. Standing beside the five-foot inflatable snowman she’d put out earlier, like something out of a bad dream, were her sister and mother.

  Both women had suitcases by their feet and Emily had brought her guitar. Meg knew her sister wouldn’t be parted from her instrument for more than a couple of days, which suggested this wasn’t a fleeting visit. ‘Mum? Emily?’ Meg squeaked, putting the box down as she forced herself to step forward and accept hugs from both of them. ‘I didn’t know you were coming.’ She kept her tone light even as her heart thundered.

  ‘We wanted to surprise you.’ Kitty grimaced.

  Her mother didn’t like surprises – her life was ruled by order and lists. Meg’s forehead creased as she searched the shop, glancing at the door with a sinking feeling. ‘Where’s Dad?’

  ‘At home.’ Kitty frowned at the floor where a large puddle was forming under Emily’s suitcase – snow from outside melting in the warmth. ‘You should clear that up before one of your customers slips.’

  ‘I will. Isn’t Dad joining you?’ Meg asked, sighing as her mother grabbed a large tissue out of her handbag and began to mop up the mess.

  ‘He’s staying in London.’ Kitty swallowed. ‘He’s got things to do… meetings to attend.’ Her tone was bitter.

  Meg took in her sister’s strained expression.

  ‘I wondered…’ Kitty’s eyes darted to Emily as she stood holding the tissue, which was now dripping. ‘We wondered if we could stay for a while. I booked a return flight for the twenty-first. We won’t be any trouble. I’ve been meaning to visit for ages… and since you’re not coming home for Christmas, it’ll give us a chance to catch up.’

  Meg nodded slowly. She couldn’t say no. Besides, two weeks wasn’t that long. And if her dad wasn’t around, perhaps things would be different? Meg had stopped trying to have a relationship with her family years ago. Especially since the distance between them – even before she’d moved away – had grown. Maybe this would give them a chance to change that?

  ‘I’m going to find a bin for this tissue,’ Kitty said abruptly, heading towards the back of the shop.

  ‘You don’t have to have us here.’ Emily must have read Meg’s expression. She hadn’t seen her sister for almost a year. They’d never been close, due to the twelve-year age difference. Her sibling had been a surprise – a late present, her dad frequently joked. Meg had recently wondered if Emily had been a bid to deal with the rifts in her parents’ marriage, an attempt that clearly hadn’t worked. ‘I’d say no if it were me. We all know you moved up to get away from us. It’s not like we’re much fun to be around,’ Emily said.

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ Meg grabbed her sister’s suitcase, surprised by the rush of affection that flooded through her. Emily sounded sad, but every attempt Meg had made to discuss their parents’ marriage and the atmosphere at home had been brushed off in the past with a cheery ‘everything’s fine’. In the end she’d stopped asking, assuming it was only her that was bothered by it. Emily had always seemed far less sensitive.

  ‘Ugh!’ her mother suddenly shrieked from behind the till. ‘That cat is down here. That can’t be healthy, Meg – you run a cafe. You need to shoo it out.’

  ‘She’s a stray,’ Meg soothed, heading to where her mother was now glaring at the ginger tabby curled up on a bed of silver tinsel. ‘I’m hoping to find her a home,’ she admitted. ‘I’d have her myself but I can’t because of my hamster, Blitzen. She’s no trouble – she’s been coming inside to sleep for the last few weeks.’

  ‘You need to get rid of that thing before someone sees,’ Kitty advised.

  ‘It’s all in hand,’ Meg lied. ‘I live above the shop.’ She turned away from the cat and led them both into a small hallway behind the till. To their right was a tiny cloakroom where Cora and any other staff could put their possessions. Behind that was a loo, and at the back a large room they used as a stockroom. Stairs led from the hall to Meg’s flat. She steered them up, pulling Emily’s heavy suitcase behind her. ‘How are you feeling?’ Meg asked.

  ‘I’m fine.’ Emily’s tone was smooth, but Meg could detect a hint of annoyance underneath it. ‘Nothing wrong here, no need to fuss.’

  ‘Emily needs to take it easy – it can take months to recover from glandular fever and she only started getting better in October.’ Her mother must have overheard. ‘That’s why you’re taking a gap year, after all.’

  ‘I didn’t want to go to university this year because I’m really not sure an accountancy degree is the right direction for me… I’ve never been excited by numbers.’ Emily sighed heavily but didn’t turn around.

  ‘Nonsense. It’s a wonderful, solid profession.’ Kitty waved her hand. ‘You need to take a hot bath as soon as we get settled. You must have got cold, that snowsuit’s way too small, and heaven knows what germs that dog gave you.’

  ‘Dog?’ Meg asked, as Emily let out another heavy sigh.

  ‘The man who gave us a lift had one. I’m okay.’ Emily clutched the guitar case firmly in front of her like a barrier as she followed Meg up the stairs. ‘I was over the dreaded “disease” before I even deferred my uni place.’

  ‘Better safe than sorry.’ Kitty repeated her favourite mantra. The one Meg remembered her saying daily during her teens. ‘Besides, it’s been a nice bonus having you at home for a little longer. God knows what I’m going to do when you leave.’

  When they reached the top of the stairs and Meg’s small, cosy hallway with its wooden floorboards, bright orange rug and white fairy lights hanging across the ceiling, Meg pulled a face. Her bedroom was at the end of the hallway facing the high street, with a clear view of the mountains. To the right sat a small sitting room, then a kitchen-diner, bathroom and double bedroom – her only spare. Could she put her mum in the same room as her sister? One look at Emily’s weary expression decided it for her.

  ‘Mum, why don’t you go in there? It’s all made up.’ Meg pointed to the double room. ‘Emily, we’ll share. It’ll give us a chance to catch up.’ She opened the door of her bedroom and walked over to a chair on the right which was overflowing with clothes. Meg scooped them up and made space in the bottom of her wardrobe. ‘I’ll clear a drawer for you later. For now, put your thin
gs on there.’

  Emily stood in the doorway and took in the room, and Meg followed her gaze. She’d painted the walls herself when she’d moved in with her then-boyfriend, Ned Adams, three years earlier. They were white, and had once been clear of pictures. But Meg had gradually filled each wall with photographs. Some were Christmas-themed: there was the front of her shop; Davey dressed as Santa Claus visiting Lockton primary school; and a shot of Christmas Tree Farm which lay a couple of miles outside town. The rest were of the people she’d met and places she’d been to around Lockton. Emily must have noticed there were none of their family, but she didn’t comment. Instead she placed her guitar carefully on the floor and glanced at the unmade bed, and then at the hamster cage balanced on the edge of a cluttered, white dressing table.

  ‘The bed is queen-size so there’s plenty of room for us to share.’ Meg pulled the duvet up, straightening the sheet and fluffing the pillows. ‘That’s Blitzen.’ She picked up a sunflower seed from a pink earring bowl and pushed it through the bars as a plump, honey-coloured hamster waddled out. He grabbed the seed and shoved it into his mouth, then disappeared back into the sawdust shavings. ‘He’s the closest I have to a boyfriend right now,’ Meg joked, hoping her sister would laugh.

  ‘He’s cuter than some of the men you dated in London.’ Emily snorted her approval, then went to peer into the cage.

  ‘So, why are you really here?’ Meg perched on the edge of her bed, relaxing a little. Emily seemed different, a little more open than when Meg had been home for Christmas a year before. Not that her sister had been around much then. It was almost like she’d been avoiding everyone.

  ‘I’ve no idea. Mum booked us on an early morning flight at midnight last night and told me to pack,’ Emily explained. ‘Dad had organised an appointment for them somewhere and she went mad. She’s been a bit odd recently. Dad thinks it’s because she’s going to turn fifty in January…’ Emily turned her blue eyes towards Meg. ‘They’re not fighting. No more than usual. It’s just lots of long silences. Then sometimes everything’s great.’ She pulled a face. ‘I really can’t figure them out. Most of the time I don’t try.’ She exhaled, looking around the room. ‘It’s nice to come here though, I could do with a break – hopefully Mum will spend all of her time fussing over you. The big, bad sister who left a decent job in the city so she could run away and open a Christmas shop. She still thinks you’ve lost your mind,’ she joked. ‘Or inhaled too much glitter when you were a baby.’