by Jenny Kane
Five minutes later she was pulling on her Doc Martens boots, and, with a twist of her scarf around her neck, Charlie declared herself ready. Looking like the least well-matched couple in the world, they walked out into the cool evening air.
Skirting the edge of the cemetery, down to the path that ran along the edge of the River Dee, Charlie glanced sideways at her companion. Gervase had kept his hands deep within the pockets of his jacket since they’d left the house, and had avoided all eye contact. The hope Charlie had felt flutter in her chest, that perhaps the fact he’d come to see her meant that he still liked her, died. Perhaps he was building up to saying that her long-extinguished crush on Cameron made a relationship with her impossible.
‘I’m glad you have sturdy shoes on.’
Charlie examined her clumpy boots. ‘Not exactly what I’d have worn to the dinner dance, but at least I won’t skid on the icy pavement.’
‘Are they comfortable? Can you walk far in them?’
Charlie was confused; she hadn’t expected to talk about footwear. ‘Miles. Why?’
‘Because we’re walking to the castle. I want to dance with you.’
The beat of her heart went into overdrive. ‘Why?’
Gervase took his hand from his pocket and held it out for Charlie to take. ‘Why? Why do you think? You’re beautiful and I want to dance with you. And I want to say sorry for going AWOL.’
Charlie took the offered hand. Gervase’s palm immediately warmed her more than her gloves had. ‘Why did you disappear? You must know I got over my crush on Cameron years ago?’
‘It was such a shock, and let’s face it; he’s much better looking than I am.’
Charlie burst out laughing, ‘Seriously? That’s why you walked out? I think you’re bloody gorgeous, for the record! I thought you’d read my books? None of the heroes are gym bunnies. I hate all that male vanity stuff.’
Gervase spoke softly, ‘I have read them, and in The Love-Blind Boy, you get your man. You get your Cameron Hunter. It was only when Kit told me that bit wasn’t true that I came to my senses.’
Stopping in her tracks, Charlie turned to face Gervase. ‘I was forced to write the ending of that bloody book because people like happy endings. God! If my publisher knew how much unhappiness that particular happy ending had caused …’
Charlie didn’t have time to finish her sentence, because Gervase had cupped her chin and was kissing away her words in a manner that indicated he was never going to stop.
Chapter Seventeen
Monday December 7th
‘We can’t go in there!’ Charlie looked at Gervase in horror as they reached the castle’s driveway. ‘I thought you were joking. Anyway, Kit originally dreamt this up to get Alice and Cameron together again, not us!’
Gervase smiled. ‘But they are back together again!’
‘They are?’
‘Yes. Since you walked out, things moved fast. Alice did try and call you, but your phone’s been off. Come on.’
‘But I’m in my scruffy clothes and boots!’
‘So?’
‘I’m a mess. I haven’t even brushed my hair!’
‘So?’
Charlie ran a hand through her unruly curls. ‘I ran away. My gran must be furious with me. Hardly the Spirit of the Blitz, is it?’
Pulling Charlie into his side, Gervase said, ‘You didn’t have to run, you know.’
‘Nor did you.’
‘Touché!’ Gervase squeezed her tight. ‘Let’s accept we’re both idiots and hurry up. If we’re lucky then a portion of numbers two, three, and four on my “most delicious” list might be left for us.’
Charlie laughed as they headed up the spiral staircase to the Long Gallery, ‘How did you know I’d asked Gran and her team to do pie, mashed tatties, honeyed parsnips, and onion gravy for supper?’
‘Because between singing Christmas carols out of tune, Mrs Crippit can’t keep a secret to save her life.’
‘You know the chance of there being any food left is slim, don’t you?’
‘That doesn’t matter.’
‘It doesn’t?’
‘No, because I am about to spend the remainder of the evening with the number one item on my most delicious list – aren’t I?’
Charlie beamed. ‘If you’re a very good boy, then this time you may get a little taste of number one on your list for pudding!’
Kit couldn’t stop laughing. Phil had seriously over-swirled her. In his enthusiasm to see if they could do the Gay Gordons as well as the locals, he’d got a little carried away, and Kit had been catapulted onto Cameron’s lap, narrowly missing Alice, who only jumped off it in the nick of time.
‘I’m so sorry!’
Alice, stunning in a silver-grey cocktail dress, was laughing so hard her cheeks had coloured with spots of pink. Kit didn’t think she’d ever seen her look so lovely, and judging from the expression on Cameron’s face, he hadn’t either.
‘I love how the English are so eager with Scottish dancing,’ he said, smiling.
Phil, who’d caught his breath and removed himself from the whirl that was still in progress, said, ‘Is that a polite way of giving us ten out of ten for effort but zero for style?’
‘Pretty much.’ Cameron raised his pint in salute to Phil’s efforts.
Phil raised the bottle of lager he’d picked off the table in response. ‘Can’t argue with that!’
Brushing her long, flowery dress into place, Kit picked up her own glass. ‘I was going to rescue Gwen from Mrs Crippit so we could toast the success of the very first Christmas at the Castle Literary Festival, but it doesn’t seem right without Charlie.’
‘Do you think she’s alright?’ Alice, who’d snuggled back into Cameron’s shoulder, said, ‘I’m so glad she’s found someone, and I think she and Gervase would be perfect together, but if he hurts her I’ll kill him.’
If Kit had had any qualms about whether Alice cared for her friend, or if Charlie was just a convenient sounding board for her, they were extinguished there and then. ‘I’m sure they’ll be alright eventually. Let’s hope they’re quicker at sorting themselves out than you two, though!’
Cameron poked Alice playfully in the ribs as he said, ‘They’re bound to be. Neither of them are as pig-headed as us.’
‘Speak for yourself!’ Alice stuck her tongue out and climbed off Cameron’s lap. ‘Thanks so much for being our fairy godmother, Kit.’
‘I’m glad you worked yourselves out before tonight.’
‘Me too!’ Alice brushed down her dress. ‘I love surprises, but this one was even better for you telling me about it in advance. It would have been awful not to have had the chance to wear a good dress.’
Kit was just thinking that Alice hadn’t changed as much as she’d thought when the blonde proved her wrong. ‘I think I’ll go and rescue Gwen anyway. She’s worked so hard, it doesn’t seem fair that she should be cornered with Mrs Crippit’s tales of Christmas disasters past.’
Watching her skip across the Horsemill, Kit smiled. Charlie had maintained all along that Alice was lovely when she wasn’t playing businesswoman of the year. It was nice to see that she’d been right.
Charlie dropped Gervase’s hand and hung back from the door to the Long Gallery.
‘You OK, love?’
‘Of course not! Look at me! Kit and Alice will be in there all glammed up! And look at you! In fact, I can’t look at you too much because you’re a bit too handsome in that outfit and it does weird things to my insides.’
Gervase’s eyes lit up. ‘Weird things, huh? What sort of weird things?’
Charlie blushed. ‘You know what I mean!’
‘I hope so!’ Gervase put his arm around her shoulders, ‘Charlie, Charlotte, Lottie, Erin Spence, or Davies, or whoever the hell you are, I wouldn’t care if you were wearing nothing but bin bags, you’d still outshine every other person in there. Now, come on! I need a drink. Preferably with a side order of mashed tatties!’
Ki
ssing Charlie on the nose, he offered her his arm as if she was the most regal of princesses, and escorted her into the converted café. As they went he said, ‘You can use that line about outshining everyone else in one of your books, if you like.’
Charlie grimaced. ‘Over my dead body. Have you any idea how corny that was?’
‘You liked it though, didn’t you?’ Gervase teased as he took her coat.
‘Possibly … but I think I preferred the bit about liking me wearing nothing but bin bags!’
‘Charlotte Davies! I didn’t think you were that kind of girl.’
‘Didn’t you?’ Charlie fluttered her eyelashes at him. ‘Come on, let’s go and find you some onion gravy.’
Epilogue
Tuesday December 8th
Kit ran a hand over Crathes’ pink wall affectionately before engulfing Charlie in a bear hug. ‘I can’t believe it’s time to go already.’
Gervase picked up the last piece of Kit’s luggage and passed it to Phil to load into the boot of their hire car. ‘Where’s the first spot on your mini tour then?’
‘We thought we’d do a few distilleries. If I don’t take some proper Scottish whisky back for Rob, my partner at the bookshop, then I’ll get a seriously hard time.’
‘The first stop though,’ Kit said as she gave Cameron a hug, ‘is Craigievar. I have to see what Disney fell in love with!’
Alice nodded approvingly. ‘You were unbelievable, Kit. Thank you so much for coming.’
Unsure if she should hug Kit goodbye or not, the writer made Alice’s decision for her, embracing the blonde as she said, ‘I wouldn’t have missed a second of it.’
Cameron and Gervase laughed. ‘Not even the double romantic comedy of errors?’
‘Hey, I’m all about the happy endings!’
‘Oh, that reminds me!’ Charlie plunged a hand into her massive handbag and produced a present, ‘This is for you from all of us. Happy Christmas, Kit.’
As Phil shook hands with the men and kissed goodbye to the women, Kit ripped the paper off her very apt present.
Laughing as she revealed her very own magic wand, Kit waved it through the car’s open window, calling, ‘Have a Happy Christmas at the castle,’ as Phil drove them towards their next Scottish adventure, which he was sure would involve a great many colossal cups of coffee …
The End
Other titles by Jenny Kane
For more information about Jenny Kane
and other Accent Press titles
please visit
www.accentpress.co.uk
Published by Accent Press Ltd 2015
ISBN 9781910939185
Copyright © Jenny Kane 2015
The right of Jenny Kane to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Accent Press Ltd, Ty Cynon House, Navigation Park, Abercynon, CF45 4SN