Christmas at Hope Cottage: A magical feel-good romance novel

by Lily Graham

  Janet breathed out. She hadn’t asked if Emma would help; she knew, no matter their differences, Emma would do anything to help Jack.

  ‘S-so, um, I give up something of value, is that right?’ asked Janet.

  Emma nodded.

  They both handed her their tokens, a prized necklace and an heirloom watch, which Emma knew meant that they knew, that somehow the rumours of what happened here had reached them.

  ‘I’m going to do it with you – pay a cost too.’ She touched their hands, and her lips trembled. ‘I have to say the old words – it’s the tradition.’

  Perhaps they’d heard of that too, but it still caused Janet Allen’s tears to splash onto the table as Emma said, ‘I make no promises…’, though she added one of her own in any case. ‘But I promise that I will try’ – she took a breath – ‘with everything that I have.’

  ‘We’ll help you make it, if you like.’

  Emma nodded. ‘I think, yes, that would be best.’

  Emma set them to work, peeling and chopping and folding the mixture together. As the afternoon wore on, she stirred it together as she said the words, keeping her intentions clear and firm; hoping with every last bit of hope she had that it would work.

  When it was done, they ate it there, as night approached the wintry kitchen, bite by bite.

  Janet and Stella left not long before dawn broke. ‘I have to go,’ said Janet. ‘Got to get back to the hospital – but Emma, even if …’ She couldn’t finish her sentence, but Emma understood.

  Stella took a breath. ‘We’ll know you tried. Thank you.’

  Emma nodded, and thought, it had to work, it just had to.

  * * *

  She woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. It was Christmas morning.

  She dashed across the room and pressed the receiver to her ear, only to hear Janet Allen, through happy tears: ‘He’s going to be okay, he’s pulled through!’

  When she went into Jack’s room in the hospital, not long after, she saw that his face was full of dark criss-crossing gashes, traced with dried blood. His leg was in a cast.

  ‘Oh Jack,’ she said, hand on her heart.

  His eyes opened. ‘Emma.’

  ‘Hi.’ She took a seat next to him. ‘You gave us such a fright.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry.’

  He looked at her, his face amazed. ‘They came to you – my mum, and Stella, to Hope Cottage?’

  Emma nodded.

  ‘I can’t believe it.’

  ‘Neither can I, really.’

  He looked at her. ‘Emma, I’m so sorry about what happened. I should have fought for you, tried harder – I’m so sorry.’

  She squeezed his hand. ‘It’s okay, Jack. You know, you were my first love, and I’ll never regret it, I could never regret you,’ she said truthfully.

  He looked down. ‘So, I am too late.’ His eyes were sad.

  She bit her lip, touched his arm. ‘I just think we’re both about ten years too late, Jack.’

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Elvis was singing carols on the old wireless, which was tuned in to The Old Whistle station. Pennywort was dozing at the table watching as Emma, Dot and Aggie loaded the small boxes of Good Cheer Christmas Cake, trays and assorted pots and pans into Aggie’s van so that she could take it down to the Tapas Hut, where Christmas was in full swing.

  Deciding to walk instead, Emma and Evie linked arms, their wellington-clad feet sinking into the snow.

  When they got to the hut, Emma saw that Sandro was busy, carrying plates and platters. She smiled at him, feeling suddenly shy; he only gave her a small nod before his attention was pulled away by Nico.

  There were fairy lights and lanterns making an amber string of light around the tent, creating an almost enchanted feel in the darkening sun, as they took a seat next to old friends and neighbours: the Brimbles, the butcher Alfred Bright, and her old friends, Maggie, her husband Jase and Mikey, who was running around all the tables and giggling. There was Jenny with her new boyfriend, and Gretchen, next to her mum, her hair sleek, dark eyes alight. All the tables were filled with people, laughing and stuffing their mouths with Dot’s glazed ham and Aggie’s Yorkshire pudding, unbuttoning their trousers and sharing a cracker with a neighbour.

  She saw Evie having a word with Sandro, but looked away when Maggie said, ‘Share a cracker, cracker’, and she pulled till there was a little bang and a small toy car fell into her lap.

  Afterwards everyone had a slice of the Halloways’ Christmas Cake. She heard Dot tell Ann Brimble, ‘Rumour has it that even the Allens and the Leas took a piece this year, down at the hospital. Wonders never cease!’

  Emma grinned, but didn’t say anything. She was sure Dot would hear about what had happened soon enough. Mostly, despite enjoying her dinner and the company of old friends, she spent most of the afternoon wondering where Sandro was, cricking her neck any time someone came out of the Hut. Finally she turned to Evie, who she’d seen chatting with him earlier. ‘Where’s Sandro? I can’t see him anywhere.’

  Evie stared, her face blanching a little, as she looked at her. ‘I thought you knew? Thought he’d told you…’

  ‘Told me what?’ said Emma, straightening, a small stab of fear unfurling in her chest.

  ‘He said something about going home for a little while.’

  She frowned. ‘To the cottage… did he forget something?’

  Evie blinked. ‘No love, to Spain.’

  Emma’s eyes widened and her heart started to pound. ‘What! When?’

  ‘About a half-hour ago – he left Nico in charge. He’s gone to the Whistling coach station – it’s the only service running to the airport today. His decision to leave was a bit sudden,’ Evie admitted.

  ‘What! He can’t leave – I mean, he never even said goodbye!’

  Evie looked upset. ‘Oh love, he was in terrible shape, he heard about everything you did for Jack. I think he wanted to be happy for you both, but you’ve got to understand… I mean, the way he feels about you—’

  ‘The way he feels?’

  ‘He’s crazy about you – it’s why he hardly ever comes around any more, why he wanted to move out.’

  Emma shot up out of her seat. Her face was horror-struck. ‘The stupid arse, he can’t leave me now, not after what he’s done!’ she said throwing her napkin onto the table.

  ‘What’s he done?’ asked Dot, looking from Aggie to Evie in shock, as Emma tore off towards the coach station, running at full tilt, the wind whipping her long red hair all around her face, her coat flying out behind her as she staggered through the thick snow.

  ‘Well,’ said Evie, a wide grin splitting her face. ‘He’s only gone and made her fall in love with him, hasn’t he?’

  ‘He never!’ exclaimed Dot.

  ‘Stranger things have happened,’ said Evie.

  ‘In Whistling? I doubt that.’

  * * *

  Emma ran and ran, skidding along patches of frosted heath and snow, her lungs on fire. She finally reached the Whistling coach station, just outside the village, and bent over, hands on her knees as she gasped for breath.

  ‘Cancelled, love,’ said a woman in a heavy tweed coat, a scarf looped around her face and a purple woollie hat on her dark hair. She nodded. ‘Had family coming from London and everything for Christmas tea. Looks like it’ll just be us now.’ She sighed.

  ‘Oh?’ said Emma. ‘Erm, sorry,’ she added as a small shoot of hope made its way into her heart.

  She whirled away, looking at all the disappointed faces, searching for Sandro’s, but he wasn’t there. ‘H-have any of the coaches gone today?’ she asked a tall man with a moustache who was walking past, his head down.

  ‘Don’t right know, love. Suspect not.’

  She nodded. Bit her lip in thought, and then left the station. Dusk was beginning to settle, snow was falling ever faster and there was a bright glow over the moors. She realised, suddenly, just how cold she was. Her feet were frozen from t
heir long dash across them. She walked slowly, back in the general direction of the Hut. And then she smelt it.

  That scent again. The one that had once woken her up, made her toes curl in pleasure. It was like chocolate mixed with hazelnut and cinnamon.

  Then suddenly, she whirled around, and she knew.

  ‘It was you.’

  She felt his hand touch her face, his fingers trail softly along her neck. When she opened her eyes, he was standing in front of her, his dark eyes staring into hers, that familiar dimple appearing in his cheek.

  ‘What was me?’

  ‘Everything, I think. What I’ve been feeling, how I’ve changed. It’s like, since my accident, I’ve seen things differently, myself differently – and what I want too.’

  He caressed her face. ‘Which is?’

  She swallowed. ‘You.’

  He kissed her then and she realised that it was love, real love that she felt and that Evie was right, it was still magic, even when you knew how it worked.

  * * *

  THE END

  * * *

  If you fell for Sandro and wish you could spend Christmas in Whistling, you’ll love A Cornish Christmas – an uplifting story of love, secrets and new beginnings that you will remember for many Christmases to come.

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  Order here!

  A Cornish Christmas

  A cosy Christmas romance to curl up with by the fire

  Nestled in the Cornish village of Cloudsea, sits Sea Cottage – the perfect place for some Christmas magic …

  * * *

  At last Ivy is looking forward to Christmas. She and her husband Stuart have moved to their perfect little cottage by the sea - a haven alongside the rugged cliffs that look out to the Atlantic Ocean. She’s pregnant with their much-longed for first baby and for the first time, since the death of her beloved mother, Ivy feels like things are going to be alright.

  * * *

  But there is trouble ahead. It soon emerges that Stuart has been keeping secrets from Ivy, and suddenly she misses her mum more than ever.

  When Ivy stumbles across a letter from her mother hidden in an old writing desk, secrets from the past come hurtling into the present. But could her mother’s words help Ivy in her time of need? Ivy is about to discover that the future is full of unexpected surprises and Christmas at Sea Cottage promises to be one to remember.

  * * *

  This Christmas warm your heart and escape to the Cornish coast for an uplifting story of love, secrets and new beginnings that you will remember for many Christmases to come.

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  Order here!

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  Also by Lily Graham

  Summer at Seafall Cottage

  The Summer Escape

  * * *

  Christmas at Hope Cottage

  A Cornish Christmas

  A Letter from Lily

  Thank you so much for reading Christmas at Hope Cottage, I really hope you enjoyed it. In many ways the Halloways – particularly Dot, Aggie and Evie – are based on some of the wonderful, if a little eccentric, women in my own family. Growing up I semi-believed that my mother was capable of magic, and I think that belief inspired this story in many ways – the things we believe as children, then later question as adults. I had an aunt very much like Dot with her own ‘secret library’ in the pantry; getting a book from it was always a bit of an illicit treat, even if they always smelt a little like mothballs.

  If you’d like to hear about my new releases, please join my newsletter at the link below:

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  And if you liked the story, I’d so appreciate it if you could leave a review; it really helps to spread the word!

  If you’re wondering what’s next – I’m busy working on my fifth novel set on an island in Spain, about a woman who inherits a villa only to discover the incredible story behind it during the years of the Inquisition. I think if you enjoyed Summer at Seafall Cottage (previously titled The Cornish Escape), you might enjoy this one as well.

  * * *

  Do get in touch on Facebook and Twitter, or pop on over to my website, where I’m often chatting about writing, announcing competitions and much more.

  www.lilygraham.net

  Summer at Seafall Cottage

  The perfect summer romance full of sunshine and secrets

  Get swept away along the beautiful Cornish coast, where a love story in a long forgotten diary has the power to change one woman’s life forever.

  * * *

  Victoria Langley’s world crumbles when her husband leaves, but she knows exactly where to go to mend her broken heart. The rugged shores of Cornwall will be her perfect sanctuary.

  * * *

  In the quaint, little village of Tregollan, nestled in the sea cliffs, Victoria is drawn to Seafall Cottage, covered in vines and gracefully falling apart. Inside she finds a diary full of secrets, from 1905.

  * * *

  Victoria is determined to unravel the diary’s mystery, but the residents of Tregollan are tight-lipped about Tilly Asprey, the cottage’s last owner. Just as she reaches a dead end, Victoria meets Adam Waters, the lawyer handling the cottage’s sale. He’s handsome, charming, and has a missing piece of the puzzle.

  * * *

  Tilly’s diary tells a devastating love story that mirrors Victoria’s own. Can Victoria learn from Tilly’s mistakes, and give herself a second chance at love? Or is history doomed to repeat itself?

  * * *

  An unputdownable and gorgeously romantic read about lost love and new beginnings set in the green hills and rocky cliffs of the breath-taking Cornish coast. Perfect for fans of Phillipa Ashley, Emma Burstall and Liz Fenwick.

  * * *

  Order here!

  The Summer Escape

  An uplifting romantic summer read

  Amongst the beautiful olive groves and sea-front tavernas, summer has arrived on the sun-drenched island of Crete.

  * * *

  After losing the love of her life, Ria’s life has been on hold. So when her boss becomes completely unbearable she makes the snap decision to run away to the Greek island of Crete, armed only with her passport.

  * * *

  When Ria finds herself working for eccentric novelist Caroline, she meets handsome vineyard owner Tom. He’s charming, mysterious and Ria starts to wonder if it’s not just the beautiful Greek island that she’s falling for.

  * * *

  But as Ria gets to know Tom better, she uncovers a tangled web of secrets. What is he hiding? Ria has some secrets of her own. Can she open up to Tom and learn to live again?

  * * *

  This summer, escape to the sun with this charming and emotional story about starting over and grabbing happiness with both hands.

  * * *

  Order here!

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to my family for bearing with me during the writing of this book. I think each book presents its own challenges, but this was by far the biggest one to date, during a difficult period. The fact that it eventually became a book at all is thanks solely to the incredible team at Bookouture and their endless patience and support. Thanks especially to Natalie Butlin for putting up with me and all my doubts and fears, and for being so incredibly kind and supportive, when I was driving even myself mad (and probably her, though she was too kind to say), and to the gorgeous Lydia Vassar-Smith as ever for believing in me and my stories.

  Thank you to the readers and bloggers who have been with me on this journey – you all make it the best job in the world; your tweets, comments and emails have meant the world to me. I couldn’t do it without you.

  Researching Emma’s columns was really fascinating and my research is thanks to the book Eng
lish Food by Jane Grigson, as well as documentaries by Clarissa Dickson Wright and articles from the BBC. While I’ve tried my best to be as accurate as possible, any mistakes are entirely my own, and with great apology.

  Published by Bookouture

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  An imprint of StoryFire Ltd.

  Carmelite House

  50 Victoria Embankment

  London EC4Y 0DZ

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  www.bookouture.com

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  Copyright © Lily Graham 2017

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  Lily Graham has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work.

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  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.