The Three Day Rule

by Emlyn Rees

  Contents

  About the Book

  About the Authors

  Also by Josie Lloyd & Emlyn Rees

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Day 1

  Christmas Eve

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Day 2

  Christmas Day

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Day 3

  Boxing Day

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  A New Day

  Chapter 33

  Copyright

  About the Book

  ‘What’s the three day rule?

  Well, you know the saying: families are like fish. They go off after three days.’

  When the Thorne family gather for the annual Christmas festivities – the arguments, jealousies and long-held enmities that make every family Christmas so special – they think they’ve only got to endure each other for three days, and then they can return to normality.

  But then the snows come, along with the ninety-mile-an-hour winds and the plunging temperatures, and the Thornes get cut of with only each other for support, or to blame. It promises to be a Christmas like no other . . .

  About the Authors

  Josie Lloyd and Emlyn Rees each had novels of their own published before teaming up to write bestsellers together. Their work has been translated into twenty-six languages. They are married and live in London with their three daughters.

  Also by Josie Lloyd & Emlyn Rees

  The Boy Next Door

  Come Again

  Come Together

  Love Lives

  The Seven Year Itch

  We Are Family

  The Three Day Rule

  Josie Lloyd & Emlyn Rees

  For our three godsons, Oliver, Jack and Paddy.

  (You can always spend Christmas with us!)

  Acknowledgements

  With many thanks to our fabulous editor, Susan Sandon, and everyone at Random House, especially Georgina Hawtrey-Woore and Cassie Chadderton. Also, as always, many thanks to our brilliant agents, Vivienne Schuster and Jonny Geller, at Curtis Brown, for their support, as well as to the lovely Carol Jackson, Stephanie Thwaites and Doug Kean. Thanks to Andrea for being such a star with Roxie, and, of course, to our families and friends and our wonderful daughters, for keeping us sane throughout.

  DAY 1

  Christmas Eve

  Chapter 1

  Kellie Vaughan pulled back the thick drapes and shivered, tying the white hotel robe around her. From where she was standing in the bay window of the penthouse suite, she could see down over the grey slate roofs of the houses to the harbour where small fishing boats littered the shallow inlet. At the far end, beyond the quayside with its old stone harbour wall, the headland was covered in purple and yellow heather and, beyond that, the Channel – this morning a deep navy-blue – glistened beneath the powdery sky, where a high wisp of cloud hung like a question mark.

  In the far distance, she thought she could just about make out the small island where Elliot would be spending Christmas with his family, but maybe it was wishful thinking on her part.

  Kellie turned away and sighed, looking round at the neutral creams and beiges of the hotel room and at the upside-down champagne bottle in the ice bucket on the table next to the plush sofas. She was in Fleet Town, the capital of St John’s, which was the largest island of the group off the south Cornish coast. The islands themselves had a reputation as a great holiday destination, but now, in the depths of winter, they seemed bleak and uninspiring. Even though she couldn’t complain about the five-star luxury surrounding her, three days stretched ahead and, for most of that time, she’d be here on her own.

  Perhaps it was something she should have considered when Elliot had first suggested her coming – but she hadn’t. She’d done what she’d always done: made out that she was the fun, impulsive chancer she always was, happy to be swept up in Elliot’s romantic proposal, flying in a Sikorsky helicopter from Penzance and staying in the best, most exclusive spa hotel on the island. He’d made it sound so simple and plausible, but now she could see that she was going to have to fill hours of her time.

  But surely it was a small price to pay? Every moment they could be together counted, even snatched ones. That was what being in love was all about.

  Besides, she should be used to it by now. In the summer, when Elliot had been forced into spending a two-week holiday with his family in Italy, he’d ensured that Kellie was in the hotel in the next bay and he had taken up one-man sailing as a hobby so that he could be with her every afternoon.

  Once again, here she was, on the same clandestine terms, but this time twenty-eight miles off the coast of Cornwall, and Kellie couldn’t help fearing that Elliot’s certainty that he’d be able to sneak away and spend at least one night and the majority of each day with her wasn’t as realistic as he was making out. After all, his father’s house was on Brayner, one of the smaller islands. Elliot had made it sound as if it was next door, but Kellie could see for herself that it was a lot further than that. Sneaking back and forth would require a boat, the same as in Italy, but even assuming Elliot got hold of one, could sloping off in the middle of a family Christmas really be as simple as he’d led her to believe?

  Behind her Elliot stirred in the dishevelled bed.

  ‘What are you doing over there?’ he said, his voice husky with a hangover after all the brandy they’d drunk together in the hotel bar last night as well as the champagne back in the room. ‘Come back.’ He closed his eyes, smiled and slumped his head on the pillow, patting the Kellie-shaped dent on the bed beside him.

  Kellie smiled and walked over, kneeling down and ruffling his hair. She loved him the most when he was like this, his hair all messed up from sleep, his sexy smell of sweat and expensive aftershave. He squinted up at her through blue-grey eyes.

  ‘You’ve got too many clothes on,’ he said.

  She laughed. ‘I thought you had a hangover.’

  ‘So cure me.’

  ‘But it’s nearly time,’ Kellie said, wriggling out of her robe and lying in his arms. She knew that his family were all expecting him to arrive on St John’s today, after a big work function in London last night. They had no idea that Elliot was already here.

  ‘I know. Oh, Christ, Kel. I’m so jealous of you being here. I wish I was having a break,’ he said, turning to her, ‘but I suppose you do deserve one.’

  Kellie felt a flush of pleasure that he’d finally acknowledged how hard she’d been working. Elliot was the most driven man she’d met in her career and he pushed her hard in hers too – so much so, that lately it seemed as if she’d given up her whole life to WDG & Partners, the law firm where they both worked. The pressure had never seemed to stop. She’d been promoted at the beginning of the year, which had been hard enough, and then, when a reshuffle had happened a few months ago, she’d been promoted again. She knew that Elliot had been involved with the decision-making process, but that had only made
her even more determined to prove herself on her own terms. When everyone at the office stopped speculating and found out after Christmas that she and Elliot were together, she didn’t want anyone accusing her of sleeping her way to the top.

  She was glad, however, that he was jealous of her having a break. The more he imagined her to be having a wonderful time, chilling out, the harder he would try to get to be with her.

  ‘Yes . . . well you deserve one, too,’ she said.

  Elliot groaned. ‘I just can’t bear it,’ he said, scrunching up his face so that he looked like a little boy. ‘I don’t want to go.’

  Kellie was used to this. Elliot was far worse than her every time they had to part. She knew he felt guilty about spending time with his family, away from her, and, ironic though this was, more often than not she was the one who ended up being strong about it. It was almost as if there were two Elliots: the one at work who was powerful, masterly and strong, and this Elliot, the one she loved the most, but also the one who made it almost impossible to believe he had a child of his own.

  Usually, Kellie laughed at him, but now, as she lay her chin on his chest and walked her fingertips through the thick ruffle of dark hair between his nipples, her usual composure was replaced by suffocating jealousy.

  ‘Then don’t go. Stay here with me. Don’t go at all,’ she said. ‘We can stay in bed for days and live off room service. No one would ever know . . .’

  ‘I’d love to, believe me,’ he said, stretching.

  ‘But you can’t,’ she said, finishing his sentence for him. Or won’t, she wanted to add, but stopped herself.

  ‘Hey, look on the bright side,’ he said, gently. ‘I was supposed to be going for a whole week, but I absolutely refused. The three day rule must be obeyed.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You know, the saying . . . families are like fish. Three days and they go off.’

  ‘If it’s going to be so terrible, why don’t you just bin it? Think about it. This could be the perfect opportunity. Call Isabelle. Tell her it’s over.’

  Elliot sighed. ‘Bloody hell, it’s tempting, believe me, but we’ve been through this. There’s Taylor . . . and my father . . . it’s Christmas . . .’

  There it was again: Christmas. Kellie knew it was fatal to sound as if she was whining, or harassing him (she knew these were the most loathed traits of Elliot’s daughter and wife), but she didn’t understand this big deal about Christmas. She wasn’t religious and Elliot wasn’t either. Sure, she liked to celebrate it along with everyone else, but that whole family togetherness thing was so archaic. Her own family would never dream of deeming Christmas enough of a reason to get together. Her brother was on a ship somewhere off Canada, her mother lived and worked in Paris, and her father had remarried back home in Australia a few years ago and had another family to worry about now.

  ‘Christmas. Christmas. I hate bloody Christmas,’ she said, rolling away from him and folding her arms. She thought about the iPod play list she’d put together entitled Shite Christmas which included Big Boss Man’s ‘Christmas Boogaloo’, Grandaddy’s ‘Alan Parsons in a Winter Wonderland’ and, Kellie’s personal favourite, Robin Laing’s ‘The Man Who Slits the Turkeys’ Throats at Christmas’. She was going to have a long bath and play it as soon as Elliot had gone.

  ‘Bah humbug,’ Elliot said.

  ‘I do. It’s such bollocks. We just get suckered in to all this consumerism and nobody really gives a shit. The only people who benefit are the shops. It’s like being hit by a tsunami of tackiness. I went to Oxford Street last week and it was hell on a stick.’

  Elliot laughed.

  ‘And Christmas cards?’ she continued on her rant. ‘What’s all that about? It’s such a waste of trees. Half the time people don’t even sign them. Oh, and those round robin letters –’ She paused, a thought occurring to her. She turned over, leaning on her elbows, and looked at Elliot. ‘Does Isabelle send one? I bet she does.’

  Elliot groaned and covered his face.

  ‘Ha! I knew it. Tell me all about it. Go on. Is it –’

  ‘Excruciating? Yes, it is,’ Elliot said, cutting her off, as he looked through the gaps between his fingers. He clearly wasn’t going to relent and give her all the details, but she knew this already. Elliot was a diplomat and he only liked bitching about Isabelle on his own terms (usually when he was drunk) but not like this, not when Kellie tried to instigate conversations that would force him to say unkind things. ‘Fortunately for me,’ he continued, pressing the end of Kellie’s nose and smiling, ‘I have you to get me out of all that stuff. Thank God.’

  ‘You could just get out of it now, if you wanted to . . .’

  ‘Oh darling. Please don’t make this harder than it already is. I have to do what’s right, and I have to do this. Just this one time, OK?’

  ‘But you are still going to tell them in the new year like you promised?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘By New Year?’ she specified.

  ‘I’ve told you: I’m going to fix it.’

  She knew it was pointless pressing him any further. She had to trust him. She did. She loved him. He’d broken down a few months ago and told her that he’d fallen in love with her and that she’d shown him that all that he had in his life meant nothing without her. Since then, their future together had become certain.

  ‘It’s going to be far worse for me,’ he said, smoothing a strand of her long wavy brown hair away from her face. ‘How do you think I’m going to feel, knowing you’re here? I need to be able to think about where you are every second. What are you going to do when I go?’

  Now that he’d asked her such an obvious question, it occurred to Kellie that she’d given it almost no thought. She supposed she could amuse herself. She’d take spa treatments and indulge herself with some quality time doing nothing. Suddenly she felt less brave at the prospect.

  ‘I bet you’ll be in heaven with all those movies to watch without me to interrupt,’ he said.

  She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she’d already checked out the hotel room’s DVD collection and had seen every one, just the same as she’d seen nearly every film in her local video store. She’d inadvertently turned into an amateur movie buff – an unexpected benefit of all those late nights she’d spent on her own, waiting for Elliot to call.

  ‘I suppose . . . or I can explore a bit. Catch up on some sleep . . . read . . .’ She rubbed her eyes, last night’s mascara crunching beneath the heel of her hand. ‘Take off my make-up,’ she continued, showing the black smudge to Elliot. ‘Attractive, huh?’

  ‘Very. You’re beautiful, Kel. Even when you’re impersonating a panda. Now, how about you bring that perfect, sexy body of yours over here?’ he said, pulling her on top of him.

  Then slowly, sensuously, they began to make love.

  Kellie had never intended to become Elliot’s mistress, but a year into their relationship, the facts were simple: Elliot made her happy and she made him happy too. Happier than he’d ever been in his life, so he said, and she believed him. Despite their ten-year age difference, they had a sexual connection and an emotional compatibility that they both talked about as being fated – and even though being a mistress came with its harder moments, there wasn’t even a glimmer of suspicion in her mind that Elliot was ‘fucking his cake and eating it’, as Jane, her oldest but now extremely distant friend, had so bluntly summed it up. Kellie was impervious to such accusations. The reality was Elliot had been unhappy for years, long before he’d met Kellie.

  In fact, his reputation as a miserable ogre had somewhat preceded him when she’d started working on her first corporate law case with him at WDG & Partners. Apparently, Elliot Thorne was the big, ferocious, uncompromising boss, reportedly so demanding that he’d made plenty of other minions in Kellie’s position cry. But Kellie had taken a different approach, answering him back and making him apologise for being rude. She’d fought fire with fire, and playing Elliot at his
own game had seemed to do the trick. Within days she’d made him laugh. Within weeks they’d become friends.

  It wasn’t long before he’d tentatively opened up to her and she’d discovered that he was just about the loneliest man she’d ever met. Soon Kellie knew all about his control freak, business-obsessed wife, Isabelle, and his surly, withdrawn daughter, Taylor. Kellie knew she shouldn’t get involved, but she’d found herself wanting to make Elliot’s life a better place.

  Then, last Christmas, they’d spent every night in the run-up to Christmas working on a case until the small hours. When they’d finally said goodbye, Kellie had fought back tears of an altogether different sort to those of her predecessors. She’d known that she was going to miss him, and it wasn’t the kind of missing that was healthy to feel about one’s boss.

  Which is why, when a soaking wet, distraught-looking Elliot had run up the road after her and had flattened her against the railings, apologising and kissing her in quick succession, she’d known that she wasn’t the only one in the grip of something bigger than she’d ever experienced.

  They’d barely spent more than a day apart since, and when Elliot had rented the flat up the road from the Chancery Lane office, it had seemed like the most natural and convenient thing in the world for Kellie to move in. He might have been keeping her a secret from his family until the time was right, and it certainly wasn’t right to let anyone at work know, but Elliot’s commitment to her never wavered.

  And now, afterwards, as she lay in his arms, silently stroking his smooth skin, she felt more in love with him than ever. Eventually, Elliot stretched before getting up and heading into the en-suite bathroom.

  Kellie admired the view of his naked backside, as he looked at himself in the mirror.

  ‘So what’s this Brayner island like, then?’ she asked, getting out of bed.

  ‘It’s a nice place to come in the summer, but why Dad has moved here permanently is a mystery. No one expected him to retire here full time.’