A Very Merry Manhattan Christmas
Page 1
A Very Merry Manhattan Christmas
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Uncorrected proof
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Copyright
A Very Merry Manhattan Christmas
Darcie Boleyn
This is an uncorrected proof. Please note that the text has not yet been finalised and is subject to change.
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Chapter 1
“Don’t make me do this alone! Please, Dale… say you’ll be my plus one!”
Dale chewed his bottom lip and buried his hands deep in his pockets.
“I don’t know, Lucie. I mean, Christmas in New York sounds wonderful and everything, but what about my family? Mum’ll go crazy if I tell her I won’t be there for the big dinner.” He rubbed a large hand over his dark stubble.
“I know what Glenda’s like about Christmas, but she has your brothers. Don’t you think she could manage without you just this once?”
It was difficult asking Dale to put his mother’s feelings to one side – after all, the Treharne Christmases were always a big affair – but the thought of going all the way to New York alone made Lucie’s stomach flip. The only time she’d been abroad before was on a family holiday to France when she was ten, and she suspected that if she tried to make it to Manhattan alone, she might miss her flight or take one of those dodgy taxis and end up somewhere she didn’t want to be. Besides, she knew Dale had always wanted to visit New York, and this was his chance to go all expenses paid.
“I’ll think about it.” Dale finished his coffee, then carefully placed the mug in the sink.
“Thank you so much!” Lucie flung her arms around his neck and kissed his stubbly cheek. “I knew I could count on my oldest friend. You’re the best, Dale Treharne! Every woman should have a mate like you.”
Dale cleared his throat as he gently disentangled himself from her embrace. His cheeks were flushed and he didn’t meet her eyes. “I said I’d think about it, and I will. But it’s not just Mum I need to consider: I’d have to make sure the business is taken care of too.” He nodded at the sink. “That tap should be fine now. It just needed a new washer.”
“Okay, thanks. The dripping’s been keeping me awake, and I couldn’t bear another sleepless night.” The constant pings of the drops hitting the sink had even permeated her earplugs in the early hours – although she’d been tossing and turning anyway, after receiving Petra’s glossy cream wedding invitation. It had been waiting on her doormat when she’d got home from work; a rectangle of card decorated with gold swirls and spidery calligraphy, pregnant with possibilities. She’d known immediately that it was linked to the mysterious text she’d received from Petra just days before.
It seemed that the past two years had seen most of Lucie’s old friends get hitched or reproduce, but with many of them well into their thirties, it was hardly surprising. She knew Petra had been desperate for a proposal from Harry for years – in between their splitting up and reconciling several times – and now that he’d finally done it, Petra clearly intended to get the ring on her finger and sharpish.
“Will I see you later?”
“Would I miss the Saturday night pub quiz?” Dale raised his eyebrows.
“Meet you there at seven, then, and don’t be late just because you were too nice to refuse a mug of tea from some lonely old lady!” Lucie walked him to the door of her basement flat and watched as he jogged up the stone steps. Even though it was the weekend, he was wearing his green work overalls. Dale ran his own landscape gardening business and he was doing so well that he had a team working for him now, but he still liked to oversee most projects and to give his long-term customers the personal touch. Of course, being an attractive man, he’d had to deal with his fair share of admirers over the years – from bored housewives and househusbands to teenage crushes – but he handled them all with grace and politeness. Lucie knew about them because he told her everything; after all, they were best friends, and had been since nursery school. There’d been a bit of a blip in their friendship when she’d gone off to university, but since her return to Tonbridge, they’d slipped back into their old ways and were closer than ever. There was nothing they didn’t discuss, except for that time when they’d temporarily become more than just friends… And that was better left in the past.
Lucie sometimes wondered if their closeness stopped them looking for romantic relationships, but she’d never stop Dale getting involved with someone and had even tried to set him up on a few dates with women from work. She knew that he saw her as a friend and nothing more, so when she’d been out with other men – on a few rather unsuccessful occasions – he’d been happy enough for her. Still, neither had found the one yet, and in the meantime, they were content to keep each other company. In fact, although she’d never admitted it to Dale, she couldn’t quite picture how it would work when one of them did get into a serious relationship, as the thought of not having Dale around as much was one that made something deep inside her ache. So she ignored it, and shut it down whenever it surfaced.
She wandered into her lounge and shivered. After weeks of rain, the November morning was at least crisp and clear, which meant Dale could finish his remaining jobs before winter set in. For Lucie the cold just reminded her that Christmas was coming – and that was never a good thing, as far as she was concerned. Although, at least this year she would hopefully be far away, avoiding all the usual festive routines that turned her cold.
* * *
Dale was glad he’d been able to fix that tap for Lucie before she’d decided to have a go herself. He shook his head as he pulled away from the kerb, remembering the time she’d tried to fix the toilet cistern. Luckily, he’d got there in time to put it right and stop her whole flat from being flooded. He knew women who were plumbers, electricians and carpenters, and his mother could change the oil on a car better than his father, so he knew it wasn’t a female thing; it was more of a Lucie Quigley thing. For as long as he’d known Lucie, she’d been clumsy and plagued by disaster. Her first day at comprehensive school, she’d picked up the wrong rucksack by mistake and hadn’t realized until she couldn’t find her packed lunch. (Dale had shared his with her.) The first time she sat her driving test, she’d reversed into a parked car. It had taken her two more attempts to pass, and in the meantime, Dale had driven her wherever she’d wanted to go. Then there had been the time she’d slipped on the ice and broken her arm. She hadn’t been able to wash her hair in case she got the cast wet, so Dale had done it for her over the sink.
*And now… *
Now she’d asked him to go to New York with her for Christmas. She was to be a bridesmaid for one of her university friends, Petra Barnsley. It wasn’t that Dale didn’t like Lucie’s university friends, just that they lived in a different world. At sixteen, he’d gone straight from school to work at a local garden centre. A few years later, he set up his own business with his newly acquired knowledge and experience, plus a bank loan. He had lots of friends who’d been through higher education, but the circle that Lucie had become involved with were somehow different. They had the safety net of being born into money, and that gave some
of them a confidence bordering on arrogance. Dale literally got his hands dirty every day, and he just felt that Petra and the people she associated with looked down on him. That in their eyes, he was the equivalent of the hired help. Of course, he knew it could just be down to him being sensitive, but whenever he’d spent time with Lucie’s university friends, he just hadn’t been comfortable.
However, what Dale felt about Petra and her fiancé Harry Goldsmith was irrelevant now. He knew he’d have to go with Lucie; he just couldn’t let her go alone. She’d likely miss her flight, pull down the oxygen mask in the plane, flush her purse down the toilet, or do something else equally disastrous. She was easily distracted, an absolute dreamer at times. She often had her head buried in a book and her flat was bursting with dusty old paperbacks that she refused to get rid of in case she ever wanted to read them again. She read everything she could get her hands on at an amazing rate; the way she lost herself in books was something he really admired about her.
Dale felt that it was his place to look out for her. It had been that way for as long as he could remember, especially after Lucie’s mum passed away and Lucie had fractured for a while. She’d come through it, though, throwing herself into her studies and achieving excellent exam results. There was no doubt about it, Lucie was strong. Dale didn’t know how he’d have coped if he’d lost his own mum at thirteen, but he also knew that Lucie struggled most with her loss during the festive season. That was another reason why he’d decided to go with her.
He’d be able to ask his second in command, Jade, to keep the business ticking over for a week, so he wasn’t really worried about that. He just didn’t know how he was going to break the news about Christmas to his mother.
Chapter 2
“There you go… one glass of Shiraz and one bottle of IPA.” Phil Coombes, a friend of Lucie and Dale’s since their first days at secondary school, placed their drinks on the table.
“Cheers, Coombsey!” Dale said as he took a quick swig.
“Thank you!” Lucie smiled at Phil.
“So are we ready to win tonight or what?” Arianwen asked.
“Of course, my darling,” Phil replied.
Lucie gazed at them over her wine glass. Phil had met the redheaded artist Arianwen during the final year of his accountancy degree at Cardiff University. They’d fallen head over heels in love, and Arianwen had moved to Tonbridge to live with him. The bubbly Welsh woman was always good company and never failed to make Lucie giggle. At times she said things Lucie would never dream of saying herself, but she liked Arianwen’s openness and down to earth approach to life. Nothing seemed to phase her, and it was refreshing.
“I’ve been reading up in preparation,” Arianwen explained to Lucie, her green eyes mischievous.
“For childbirth?” Lucie asked as she eyed her friend’s swollen stomach. She couldn’t believe that Arianwen still had a few weeks to go until her due date.
“No! I think I know enough about childbirth already.” She tapped her nose. “Like shelling a pea it was last time, so third time round I’ll probably sneeze and the baby’ll pop out.”
“I hope it is that easy,” Phil said. “We might even be able to have that home birth you want, then, Ari.”
“I’m having a home birth, Phil, come hell or high water. There’s no way I’m going into hospital for this one. I want my own things around me, my own bathroom at my disposal and my own bed to sleep in afterwards.”
“What’s sleep?” Phil yawned.
“Something we haven’t had in quite some time, I know, but at least we can lie in our own bed in between feeds.”
Phil nodded. “I’m sure that’s why I’ve lost all my hair.” He rubbed a hand over his shiny scalp. “My mother’s staying at ours tonight to give us a break. Said we can sleep through and have a lie-in tomorrow.”
“He always lets me lie-in at the weekends. He’s a sweetheart,” Arianwen said to Lucie.
Phil’s cheeks coloured at his wife’s praise and his hazel eyes sparkled. “Well, you’re growing our baby inside you, so you need your rest more than me.”
“So what have you been reading in preparation?” Lucie asked.
“Every Guinness Book of Records from the past five years. Do you know it has the most amazing facts in it?” Arianwen sipped her lemonade then shifted in her seat. “I just can’t get comfortable at the moment.” She rubbed her huge belly and Lucie nodded in understanding, though of course she had no idea what it must be like to be pregnant with her first child, let alone her third. “You know I have veins popping out in places I didn’t even know they could.”
“Really?” Lucie tried to suppress a shudder, but it was too strong.
“I know. Isn’t it terrible? And as for farting!” Arianwen shook her head.
“Romance is long dead in our house; replaced by cankles, flatulence and bizarre midnight cravings.”
“And that’s just Phil!” Arianwen giggled.
“How are you feeling – apart from the discomfort?” Lucie asked.
“Oh, you know… exhausted, but that’s what having a six year old and a three year old will do to you. If I’m not building Lego, I’m making healthy organic meals and sauces to conceal vegetables, or working through the mounds of washing that the kids create every day. I still haven’t forgiven Phil for getting me pregnant again.” She scowled at her husband but when he met her eyes, she smiled.
“You know you always wanted a large family, Ari.” Phil winked.
“So I did. Masochist that I am. But I think we’ll stop at three.”
“Four.”
“Three.”
“Four?” Phil pouted at his wife.
“You’ll have to be extra nice to me.”
“I’m always nice to you, darling.”
“Get me a bag of salt and vinegar crisps and I’ll think about it.”
“Your wish is my command!” Phil swept into an exaggerated bow and rushed off to the bar. He was back within minutes, carrying several bags of crisps and a bag of nuts.
“Did Lucie tell you that she’s been asked to be a bridesmaid?” Dale asked.
“Have you now?” Arianwen asked. “For whom?”
“Petra Barnsley,” Dale replied.
“That’s your friend from London, right?” Phil asked.
Lucie nodded.
“I love a good wedding,” Arianwen said. “I miss getting all dressed up, having my hair and nails done, fitting into nice underwear that doesn’t have to be stuffed with post-natal towels or breast pads… enjoying all that cake and champagne. But leaky boobs don’t go well with a flimsy party frock, and as for varicose veins—”
“It’s in New York,” Dale interrupted and Lucie suspected he was keen to stop Arianwen revealing any more gory pregnancy details. “Over Christmas.”
“Oooh! Even better!” Arianwen grabbed Lucie’s arm. “Nothing like Manhattan at Christmas. Just think about how beautiful it will be with the lights, the parties, the Christmas trees, the snow and…”
Lucie’s cheeks twitched awkwardly.
“What is it? Oh…” Arianwen’s face fell. “I really am so sorry, Lucie. You don’t like Christmas at all, do you?”
“I bet it’s lovely when you have little people around.” Lucie didn’t want to put a dampener on things for Arianwen – and besides, it probably was different with children. Maybe, when… if… she ever had kids, she’d look forward to Christmas again.
“Yes, we’ll have three by the time Santa comes,” Phil said as he placed a hand on his wife’s belly. “Be a fabulous one this year.”
Dale finished his drink then placed the bottle carefully onto a beer mat. “I’m probably going with Lucie to New York. To the wedding.”
“And how did mother Treharne take that news item?” Phil asked.
“I’ve yet to break it to her.” Dale grimaced then picked up the beer bottle and started picking at the label.
“Rather you than me, fella!”
Lucie watched as Da
le flicked bits of sticky label onto the table. She knew that his mother would give him a hard time about being away over Christmas. If he didn’t come, Lucie would be nervous, but she would cope. She’d have to. Yet it would be so much better with Dale at her side. Petra worked for a private travel firm that specialized in luxury holidays, and she had managed to get discounts on everything from flights to hotel rooms. Her very rich and generous father had insisted on paying the remaining costs for the bridesmaids and their partners. Petra had sent out a letter with the invitations, to inform the select few that they wouldn’t need to spend a penny. It promised to be the trip of a lifetime. Plus, in New York, Lucie could hopefully avoid the ghosts of Christmas past.
Dale caught her eye and mouthed, *It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. *
And she knew, in that moment, that it would.
With Dale by her side.
There was no one else she’d rather visit New York with. Christmas wedding or not, they’d be sure to have some fun.
* * *
“You can come with me.”
Lucie turned awkwardly to face Dale. They were in the back of Arianwen’s bright red Fiesta, squashed together because of the child’s car seat to her left. Apparently, one car seat could be removed easily enough, and Phil had already put it in the boot, but the other one was more complicated. Like building a Lego pirate ship, Phil had told them apologetically, then explained that when baby number three came, they’d have to use his people carrier for all family outings.
“What do you mean?” she whispered, conscious that after three glasses of wine she didn’t want to speak too loudly – she knew she got loud when she was tipsy.
“When I tell Mum.”
“Nooooo.” A chill filled her belly. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for Dale, but facing Mrs Treharne, especially regarding something that concerned not just her middle son but also Christmas, was a terrifying prospect. “It’d be better coming just from you.”