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

by Donna Ashcroft

  ‘It wasn’t me or Cooper.’ Tom waved a hand at the scattered decorations, feeling a little put out. ‘I was walking and found it like that. I’ve been clearing up the glass so I could bring it to your shop. It was probably kids. Don’t you have teenagers in Lockton?’

  ‘None who’d do this,’ she snapped. ‘Everyone around here loves Christmas…’ Meg scoured the snow. ‘I can only see one set of prints, aside from Cooper’s.’ There was a clear set of footprints under the tree, which Tom knew belonged to him. The rest of the snow looked crisp and untouched.

  ‘It’s been blizzarding all morning,’ Tom said, tamping his temper. ‘Even if a herd of reindeer had charged through here an hour ago, you wouldn’t have a clue.’ He took the bag from her fingers and knelt again, gathering the rest of the glass. Meg bent to pick up some pieces of paper and hung the soggy knitted decorations back onto the tree.

  ‘You found it then.’ Lilith crossed the road and crunched up to join them. She was wearing jeans and a pair of boots with heels that reminded Tom of Marnie. But the memory didn’t make his heart ache like it might have even a year ago. ‘I saw the damage earlier and I was going to clear it up, but I wanted to catch Morag before the post office got busy. I thought I’d give my parcel one last chance before I put in a claim. It wasn’t there…’ She looked unhappy.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Meg said, as Lilith grabbed a star from the ground and hung it on one of the higher branches. ‘What do you mean, you saw this earlier?’ She kept her eyes fixed on Lilith, as if the mere act of looking at Tom was too much for her.

  ‘I walked this way from the hotel about fifteen minutes ago, saw the baubles and decorations on the ground. I picked up a few over there.’ She pointed to a set of railings where a saturated knitted streamer had been hung. Tom could see a couple of instruments were missing – most likely torn off. There were bits of wool everywhere. It looked like someone had been trying to rip them up. ‘I saw the baubles in the snow but didn’t realise they were broken or I’d have tidied the worst.’ Lilith frowned, bending to pick up a piece of glass so she could toss it into Tom’s bag. ‘There weren’t any footprints, and there was no one nearby. I think someone did this in the night.’

  ‘I was here yesterday evening and everything was fine,’ Meg said.

  Lilith took in her expression. ‘It’s been snowing constantly, so it’s going to be difficult to trace who did it.’

  ‘We should tell Marcus Dougall.’ Meg frowned at Tom. ‘I’d like the police involved – even if he can’t find out who it was, it’ll serve as a warning.’

  ‘Good plan,’ Tom said, as Meg considered him. ‘Isn’t he married to Cora? Should we go back to your shop?’ He did a final check for glass. ‘Will you be able to replace the broken baubles?’

  ‘Of course,’ Meg said, looking around. ‘I’ll do it this afternoon. I think we got all the promises.’ She tapped her pocket. Tom was going to tell her about the one in his, then changed his mind – sharing it didn’t feel right. Besides, if the tree really was magic, which he’d overheard customers at the pub gossiping about, would that make him complicit in someone else’s divorce? He had enough bad karma in his life – he’d be better off throwing it in the bin.

  ‘I’ve got to get back to the hotel,’ Lilith said. ‘I left someone in charge of lunch, but there’s a lot to do. If you find out who did this’ – she waved a hand at the ground – ‘let me know. I had a promise of my own on that tree.’ She nodded at Meg then turned, marching quickly, despite the shoes.

  Meg didn’t look at Tom as they began to walk back down the high street, but Cooper kept pace beside her, probably realising she represented the fastest way out of the cold. He whined in relief as Meg opened the door to her shop and then paused. ‘Cooper can come into the cafe if he behaves. You’d better explain to Cora what you found.’

  Tom caught Meg’s hand as they entered the shop, but dropped it again as he felt her tense, wondering why he’d felt the need to touch her at all. ‘I promise it wasn’t Cooper.’ He was surprised by how much he wanted her to believe him.

  Her mouth twisted. ‘You’ve told me you’re not so good at keeping those. But I know you’re telling the truth…’ She let out a long exhale. ‘I’m sorry I overreacted. I was surprised to see you by the tree, but you’ve got nothing to gain from vandalising it. I’ve no idea who’d want to destroy the baubles on our Promise Tree. People come for miles to hang them. It doesn’t make sense.’ She headed through the shop, edging past an inflatable snowman which was almost the same height as she was. Tom followed, passing a couple browsing shelves.

  The cafe was cosy, colourful and Christmassy. There was a counter on the left which doubled as a display unit and showcased an array of treats – including scones, cheesecake, mince pies and a giant Christmas cake. Behind that, Tom could see a state-of-the-art drinks machine where Cora was warming milk. The cafe was quiet, aside from a lone man with dark hair flecked with grey. He had a suitcase at his feet and was working on a laptop. As Meg spotted him, she came to an abrupt stop.

  ‘Dad?’ Her face paled. ‘What are you doing here?’ she squeaked.

  ‘Meg!’ The man launched himself from the seat and gave her an awkward hug. He was tall. Not as tall as Tom, probably five eleven. His skin was pale and he had amber-coloured eyes which contrasted with the blue of Meg’s. He’d taken off his coat, which lay on a chair beside the suitcase, but his snow boots were covered in ice, suggesting he’d only just arrived. ‘After we talked, I tried calling your mother but she didn’t answer. Rather than put you in the middle of an argument’ – he pulled a face – ‘I thought I’d come up too. I managed to get on a flight yesterday evening and stayed in Inverness. A cab brought me here this morning. I feel like I’ve just crossed the Arctic. Cora told me you went for a walk.’ He nodded as she brought him over a hot chocolate and plate of mince pies.

  ‘Aye, your da looked cold so I thought I’d make him a snack.’ Cora grinned. ‘I knew you were related when he ordered your favourite foods.’

  ‘I’ll have a quick breakfast before we head up to your flat if that’s okay?’ her dad asked, and Meg reached for the back of a chair. She was smiling and nodding, her cheeks shining under the skylight, but Tom could tell something wasn’t right.

  ‘You’re staying?’ she asked, nibbling her bottom lip.

  ‘If that’s okay? Sorry to land myself on you, but it’ll be good to catch up.’ Her dad picked up his drink and sipped. ‘Exquisite.’ His eyes moved to Tom and Meg turned. She looked surprised, like she’d forgotten he was there, but there was none of the anger that had been in her eyes earlier. If anything, she looked scared.

  ‘This is Tom Riley-Clark, he works in Apple Cross Inn. That’s his dog, Cooper.’ She waved a hand at her father. ‘This is my dad, Oliver Scott. He’s…’ She paused before flashing another smile. ‘Decided to surprise me.’

  Oliver shook Tom’s hand, then picked up a mince pie and took a bite. ‘Ten out of ten,’ he said.

  ‘Do you want me to talk to Cora now?’ Tom asked, leaning closer to Meg. He got a whiff of something Christmassy like cinnamon and was surprised the scent didn’t make his stomach lurch.

  ‘Um…’ She looked vague. ‘Let’s leave it. I can do it later, I need to talk to her about a leaky tap anyway. Maybe she can get Marcus to pop over to the pub. Could you help me get these things up to the flat?’ She nodded at the suitcase. ‘Why don’t you stay here, Dad, finish your food? I’ll work out where you’re sleeping.’ She picked up his coat and a small bag, and marched off. Tom told Cooper to stay put – the dog slumped to the floor – then he picked up the case and followed Meg through the shop, ducking behind the till into a small hallway. She stopped suddenly and stood, staring at the edge of the banister, in a world of her own.

  ‘Problem?’ Tom asked gently, wondering why he wasn’t running in the other direction.

  Meg exhaled and Tom stood, feeling awkward. ‘No, everything’s fine.’ She turned so she could give him anoth
er one of her sparkly grins. Some of the glitter had leaked onto her lips and Tom had a sudden desire to brush it off. Would she stop smiling if he did? ‘You don’t have to stay, I can probably manage the suitcase and other stuff on my own.’

  In the old days he might have taken her advice and left someone else to pick up the pieces, but instead he waited. Because for some reason he didn’t want to go. The whole thing seemed almost comic – Meg was still dressed as an elf and twenty minutes ago she’d been accusing him and Cooper of sabotaging the Promise Tree. ‘I get the feeling you weren’t that happy to see your dad?’ Tom asked gently.

  Meg’s smile dropped. ‘How could you tell?’ She looked shocked.

  He shrugged. ‘Intuition… lucky guess. I don’t know.’ If he told her he just knew, she’d think he’d lost his mind. Perhaps he had? He was still standing here, wasn’t he? Not running in the other direction like every molecule in his body was telling him to. He was all about retreat. Staying away. He wasn’t in the market for another relationship – wasn’t looking for anything but a way to fill the hours and atone. So why was he still here?

  Meg straightened. ‘Sometimes my parents don’t get on.’ She pursed her lips. ‘That doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see them… I’m going to love having them here.’ Her voice cracked and she pulled a face when he cocked an eyebrow. ‘You don’t know me,’ she said quietly, her tone filled more with surprise than anything else.

  Tom shook his head. ‘I don’t. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. I think I was just trying to say, if you need to talk to someone…’ He grimaced. What was he doing? ‘Cooper’s got an excellent pair of ears.’

  Meg barked out a laugh and nodded, relaxing a little. ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ she said, still staring. ‘We’ve nothing in common…’

  Tom shook his head. ‘I guess if we keep talking, we might find something. Favourite animal?’

  ‘Hamster.’

  He shook his head. ‘Dog. Favourite tree?’

  Meg raised an eyebrow. ‘Nordmann fir.’

  ‘I should have guessed. Mine’s a horse chestnut – damn.’ Tom picked up the case and Meg smiled – this time it did reach her eyes. ‘Which way?’

  ‘Up.’ Meg turned and walked up the stairs and Tom followed, noticing the decorations and tinsel running along the banister. They reached a landing with bright walls and a soft red rug, and Meg took a deep breath. Someone was playing a guitar, missing the same chord over and over; it grated on Tom’s ears but he tried to ignore it. ‘I’ve no idea where I’m going to put Dad. Mum’s got the spare and Emily’s in with me.’ She took in the five closed doors, one by one.

  ‘Not with your mum?’ Tom asked, wishing he hadn’t when she shook her head. ‘Lilith’s hotel?’ he suggested.

  Meg screwed up her nose. ‘There’s a sofa bed in the sitting room. I have to tell Mum he’s here…’

  ‘Want me to stay?’ Tom asked, hoping she’d say no – but when Meg shook her head, he felt a surprising stab of disappointment.

  ‘I think you’ve done enough for me today.’ She looked at him oddly. ‘Thanks. For someone with such weird ideas about everything, you’re okay.’ She frowned.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ Tom put the suitcase down. ‘Good luck. If you need to talk, don’t forget the dog.’

  Meg nodded and smiled sadly before turning to one of the closed doors. Tom turned to head back down the stairs, wondering why he had such a strong desire to stay.

  Nine

  Meg knocked on the door of the sitting room. Her mother was on her mobile, pacing the rug. Her laptop was open on the coffee table and there was a steaming mug of tea set back from the edge. Piles of papers sat in tidy, symmetrical stacks on the sofa. On the other side of the room the Christmas tree had been pushed into the far corner. Kitty looked up and waved a finger, then leaned down so she could scribble ‘Not long now’ onto a pink piece of paper. She’d always written notes. It was easier sometimes than talking. ‘Eat your vegetables’ was the most common note left in the kitchen. ‘Don’t drink alcohol and drive’ if Meg was going out. ‘Fresh air cures almost everything’ if she was miserable. But ‘Better safe than sorry’ was the classic, and could be applied to almost every situation. Meg picked up the note and nodded, then took a seat on the sofa and her mind wandered to Tom. He’d been kind and perceptive today – and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Somehow the insight made him less easy to dismiss. Like a boring 2D card which had opened to reveal something far more interesting inside.

  ‘Okay, dear?’ her mother asked, putting her mobile on the table and dropping to her knees so she could tap something into her computer. ‘I’ve picked up another two clients this morning. I’ve so much to do, I don’t know where to start.’ Her eyes were bright with excitement and as blue as Meg’s.

  Meg took a deep breath. ‘Dad’s downstairs.’

  Kitty’s eyes widened. ‘What? Downstairs here?’

  ‘You weren’t returning his calls so he decided to follow you.’

  ‘But how did he know I was in Lockton?’ Kitty leaned back onto her knees. She wore an elegant forest-green suit and looked both beautiful and intimidating. ‘I’d been avoiding talking to him until I worked out what I wanted to say.’

  Meg swiped a hand across her mouth. ‘He called the other evening and I told him you were here – he was worried,’ she added, when her mother’s eyes flashed. ‘I didn’t think he’d follow you.’

  ‘We keep going round in circles. I want time alone to think. He never listens. Hasn’t since…’ Her lips pursed. In the bedroom, Emily strummed an off-key note in perfect accord with their conversation. Her mother looked hastily around the room, then into the hall. ‘Where’s he going to sleep?’

  ‘I’ll put him here.’ Meg ignored the tightness in her chest and smiled gently. ‘The sofa can be made into a bed. You can set your work up in the kitchen.’ Which would leave Meg precisely nowhere to be alone.

  ‘It’s going to be difficult living in such a small space.’ Kitty frowned. ‘I might have to look at return flights now.’ Meg swallowed the ball of anxiety. How would her father react to that? She couldn’t bear them fighting about it. Not in her flat. It would be like scribbling permanent marker all over the walls, vandalising her sanctuary.

  ‘Maybe give it a few days?’ she asked.

  ‘Hello?’ Oliver yelled, and Meg headed into the hall just as Emily peered around the bedroom door.

  ‘Dad?’ She looked over the banister into the stairwell.

  ‘Darling.’ Oliver bounded up the stairs. He had his laptop bag slung over one large arm, and shifted it onto his shoulder so he could give Emily a theatrical hug. ‘Surprise!’ he boomed, his eyes shifting to his wife. ‘You missed our appointment, Kit,’ he said softly, his smile drooping.

  ‘I told you I wasn’t going. It’s all too little, too late. I wanted to talk fifteen years ago. You wanted to pretend nothing had happened and make jokes.’ Kitty pursed her lips and walked back into the sitting room. Then she gathered up her laptop, and carried it to the kitchen without looking up.

  ‘We have Christmas,’ her dad said quietly. ‘We’ve always had that.’

  Her mother shook her head. ‘Life’s a lot more than one perfect day. I’m almost fifty, I want more.’ Her eyes caught Meg’s and she looked away before going back into the sitting room to pick up her mug and papers. Meg’s stomach felt like lead. The whole scene was so familiar. The heavy silence, the dark expressions. She glanced to the stairs, wishing she could disappear back into her Christmas shop, layer herself with yet more sparkles to block out the uncomfortable atmosphere.

  ‘I went without you, in case you’re interested?’ her dad said. ‘It’s why I’m here.’ Her mother stopped in the doorway of the kitchen and her body swayed a little, but she didn’t turn – she walked inside and shut the door. ‘Seems I have my work cut out. Don’t worry, girls, it’ll be fine. If we can’t make up above a Christmas shop, there really is no hope.’ Her dad glossed ove
r the conversation with his verbal equivalent of glitter. ‘Now, where am I going to get my beauty sleep?’ He patted both his cheeks.

  ‘Here.’ Meg picked up his suitcase and carried it into the sitting room, before showing him how to open the sofa into a bed and gathering bedding. Then she gave him the WiFi code and he set himself up on the coffee table. Meg left him to work and pushed Emily back into the bedroom.

  ‘What’s Dad doing here?’ her sister whispered.

  ‘He wants to talk to Mum.’ Meg shrugged.

  ‘But they won’t,’ Emily sighed. ‘They never have… It’s a wonder either of us has turned out normal.’ She looked up into Meg’s face and tried to smile, her blue eyes shimmering. ‘We are normal, right?’

  Meg patted her on the shoulder. ‘I know I am,’ she said lightly, hoping Emily would laugh. When she did, Meg put a sunflower seed in Blitzen’s cage, hoping he’d waddle out. ‘Were they… I mean, has anything changed in the years since I left? I know we don’t talk about it,’ Meg rushed, wishing she hadn’t said anything. But it was easier to ignore when she was over five hundred miles away. Now the whole thing wasn’t just on her doorstep, it was in her house and she had to face it. ‘You’re not home much…’

  Emily shrugged. ‘I spend a lot of time out. But no, it’s no different. Mostly they avoid each other. There’s the odd fight. Christmas Day is still perfect – you know that.’ She watched Meg as she bent down to peer in the cage, searching for movement. ‘But you decided to avoid coming home this year? I don’t blame you…’ she added quickly.

  ‘I… I’m sorry.’ Meg straightened and looked her sister in the eye. ‘When Dad told me you were spending Christmas Day with friends, I couldn’t face it. In truth I’ve wanted to spend the holidays in Lockton for a while. I love that one day, but it’s not enough.’

  ‘I’m sorry too. But this…’ Emily wagged a finger towards the bedroom door. ‘It might be a good thing. They’ve been stuck for years. Something’s got to give.’