A Country Village Christmas

by Suzanne Snow

  A Country Village Christmas

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Acknowledgements

  Olivia and Tom’s Cocktail Recipes Olivia’s Espresso Old Fashioned for Tom

  Tom’s festive Black Russian for Olivia

  Welcome to Thorndale

  About the Author

  Also by Suzanne Snow

  Copyright

  Cover

  Table of Contents

  Start of Content

  To Stewart, who loves Christmas

  And my dad Barry, for all the meals and memories

  Chapter One

  Olivia Bradshaw closed the door, heading out into the November afternoon with a rush of something she knew was a mixture of guilt and relief. She hadn’t planned this latest visit to her dad properly, and the wool peacoat she usually wore for the office was no match for the dreadful weather. The wind seemed to be trying to lift her clean off her feet and carry the bag from her hands as icy rain slashed at her face. Christmas lights had been wound around a fir tree close to the entrance of the retirement flats, but she barely glanced at it as she ran past.

  She reached the car and flung her bag onto the passenger seat, already feeling for the phone that was in her coat pocket and never far from her hand. She unlocked it as she tugged her reading glasses down from her hair and checked the number of unread emails she had, already nineteen more than an hour ago. Another one landed in her inbox as she stared at the screen; sometimes it seemed like they arrived as often as she blinked.

  She sighed, resisting the impulse to open them this minute and deal with everything she knew they would contain. Weather notifications were more of a concern right now and she clicked on one, not really needing its warning to inform her that the rest of this awful day was now at the mercy of a winter storm threatening chaos.

  Olivia didn’t often bother with a forecast and it wouldn’t have changed her mind about this visit to her dad if she did. An online client meeting had been postponed and she’d jumped in her car to get here. Opportunities between her work hours were few and far between, and she’d taken this latest one in spite of the weather.

  Starting the engine so as to activate the heated seat, she put the phone down and pushed her glasses back into her hair. She was only fifty miles or so from home and she ought to get going. At this time of day, in this weather, with rush hour traffic to come, the journey would take at least a couple of hours and probably much more. Her phone was already ringing but she ignored it.

  The call was from her business partner Julian, and he would have to wait. She expected a voicemail to follow, hoping she would still make their planned dinner this evening. She guessed he was ringing to update her about the meeting he’d had earlier with a new and high-profile client.

  Pulling out of the car park and onto the road, Olivia settled in for the drive. She loved her quick, sleek Jaguar, although her dad had expressed concern earlier about her driving back through the Dales countryside in such weather and in a vehicle not built like a Jeep. She’d dismissed his unease with raised eyebrows and a gentle reminder that as the mother of a grown-up daughter, she was long past his needing to worry about her. They both knew it didn’t stop him, though.

  She had been thirteen when her mum had died and until she had given birth to her beloved daughter Ellie in her late twenties, it had always been just her and her dad looking out for one another. Boyfriends had come and gone, and university had brought a first-class degree in law followed by professional qualifications in human resources. She’d balanced her career with unexpected single-motherhood, finding the strength firstly to cope and then to thrive by herself.

  Once Ellie had settled at university, Olivia had felt a gradual return to those days of just her and her dad. It was one of the reasons why she hadn’t yet got used to visiting him in his new flat instead of tucked up in his old house in Thorndale with his beloved books and his friends around him. Ellie came up when she could, but Olivia knew her daughter’s life was flourishing as her finals drew near and Ellie had already organised a year outside the UK to gain her master’s degree. They shared a number of characteristics and a desire to achieve was just one of them.

  Olivia felt a spike of anxiety as she headed out of town, trying to avoid water gathering into deepening puddles on the roads. The wind was still battering the car, and it was four o’clock and dark already. She made a quick decision to avoid the motorway she would normally use, instead taking a route she knew well and one she was certain would bring less traffic.

  The wipers were flipping furiously in an attempt to keep the windscreen clear while she drove steadily on. As the town disappeared behind her she passed through darkened countryside, saw the odd person still about, the few houses brightly lit and bringing a brief sense of not being entirely alone out here. It was six miles or so to the next village and she breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw the welcome glow of lights and a sign hanging outside a pub blowing in the gale.

  Once through here, it was less than ten miles to the main road before she could join the motorway after that. It was a horrible journey alone in the dark, and a glance at the screen on her dashboard told her she had virtually no phone signal barring the emergency number. The buildings were petering out and she shrieked, jumping on the brake as she saw a huge tractor rearing up in her headlights.

  Her heart was still thudding as she realised the tractor wasn’t actually moving but parked across the lane instead, barring all exit and further entry from the opposite direction to this new village. Someone was sitting inside the tractor and Olivia watched, despair mounting, as a man jumped down from the cab and ran around to hammer on her window. She opened it enough to reveal a worried face beneath the hood of his yellow waterproofs, greying hair plastered to his forehead.

  ‘You can’t get through,’ he yelled, waving his arm to the trees framing the road and threatening to buckle beneath the wind. ‘River’s burst its banks half a mile on and flooded t’lane. I’ve parked tractor here to keep folk from tryin’.’

  ‘But I need to get home and it’s the quickest way now.’ Olivia had to shout as well. ‘I don’t know if I can still get through if I go back and it’ll mean a huge detour.’

  ‘Aye, well, I wouldn’t even be tryin’ if I were you.’ His voice lowered slightly, and she saw him point to the pub nearby. ‘Best sit it out, lass. Get yourself inside and stay put, home’ll ’ave to wait. Don’t suppose you’ll want to see your car floatin’ down t’river or sat in three feet o’watter.’

  She wanted to scream, despite knowing he spoke perfect sense. She’d seen enough clips on the news of cars washed away in swollen rivers and sandbags piled up outside houses, trying to keep the worst of the water from their doors. She couldn’t risk it. She clearly couldn’t leave the village by the route she’d intended unless he shifted the tractor and there looked to be little chance of that. And neither did she really want to have to retrace her steps and risk a longer drive across lonely moorland or spend hours crawling back throu
gh town.

  Olivia thanked him worriedly, backing her car up and turning around. The pub was only a hundred yards or so away and she parked behind it and grabbed her bag.

  The torrential rain hadn’t relented for even a moment and her coat was sodden by the time she’d run to the door and shoved it open, bursting inside with a gasp of relief at the sudden heat and light. She shook the water from her hair, feeling its chill slipping down her neck. A few heads had turned to see her arrival but she ignored them as she approached the bar.

  She knew nothing about the pub. She couldn’t have named it and right now it didn’t matter whether the food was up to standard or the service average: there were lights, a roaring fire and something that smelled like shepherd’s pie being carried past by a waitress. Olivia’s stomach rattled with sudden hunger; she’d forgotten to eat lunch before she left the office earlier.

  A quick glance around revealed subtle Christmas decorations arranged throughout the room and she could hear the inevitable seasonal music playing. She guessed the building had been recently renovated, judging by the modern decor still retaining a traditional element to its Georgian history. A stone-flagged floor and white-painted beams interspersed with oak sat nicely with leather chairs at the tables and high-backed stools dotted along the length of the bar.

  Most tables looked to be occupied by people tucking into hearty platefuls of food and Olivia had already noted that the pub offered rooms. She made an enquiry, not really expecting one to be free, and somebody went to check. Looking around, she couldn’t see an empty table, wondering how long she might be stuck here.

  A cheerful young woman came to tell her that she was in luck, they had two rooms available and Olivia accepted one immediately, following the woman to check in. Her business bag contained a few basics that would see her through until tomorrow. She could do nothing more with her clothes other than smooth them out when she went to bed. Once in her room she hung up her wet coat, thankful that her understated, knee-length green work dress was still more or less dry.

  She picked up her phone, glancing at the email app and ignoring the number sitting there as she listened to Julian’s voicemail. It was indeed about their new client, his enthusiastic voice quickly outlining the client’s requirements. But she didn’t want to speak to him now and be drawn into a long conversation about business. She wanted something nice to eat instead and sent a text to let him know what had happened, apologising for not being able to make dinner tonight.

  She put the phone down and took in the room with an experienced eye. Attractive oak furniture complemented a king-size bed, and she noted subtle modern touches in cream and grey, with floor-length curtains concealing the darkness and the storm outside. She freshened up, dislodging her glasses to run her fingers through a layered, caramel-blonde bob, and reapplied the plum-coloured lipstick she used for work, making her feel more presentable. She left the room and returned downstairs.

  In just the short while Olivia had been gone the pub had filled further still as people lined the bar. She spotted a corner booth near the fireplace, the leather seating wrapped around a small table, and nabbed it before someone else did. There were already menus on the table and she scanned the drinks list, ordering a gin and tonic when a waitress came over. Seasonal music was still playing and a Christmas tree flickered in a corner, brightening the atmosphere into something jolly, mocking the madness outside.

  So now Olivia had a free evening, one she hadn’t expected, and she took her phone and a notepad from her bag and unlocked the screen, pulling her glasses down over her eyes. There was a message from Ellie about her plans for Christmas and Olivia replied to it first, scanning her daughter’s latest images on the family chat group of a weekend away with her boyfriend in Cornwall.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  Olivia’s glance shot up – and up – to find a man standing beside her table, his smile apologetic, a glass of something that look liked whisky in one hand. She took in dark brown hair flecked with grey and smart jeans worn with a navy cashmere jumper that seemed to highlight intensely blue eyes. He was probably a little older than her.

  ‘Would you mind?’ He had the most beautiful voice, as inviting and luxuriant as the fire blazing nearby and somehow she felt it was another layer of comfort on such a horrible evening. He pointed to the empty space opposite her. ‘I really wouldn’t bother you, but there are literally no other seats and I’m desperate for a square meal.’

  ‘Me too.’ Olivia couldn’t help her own smile, liking the intelligence she’d already identified in his expression and the courteous manner of his approach. She normally avoided such encounters like the plague, but this afternoon had been far from normal, and it would be mean in the extreme to deny him the empty seat at her table. It wasn’t like they had to make conversation; she was perfectly capable of closing down such attempts when she didn’t want to talk. ‘Please, sit down.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Then he was opposite her, placing a phone and a paperback on the table followed by his glass. It was a booth made for three, four at a stretch and Olivia felt perturbed by his proximity, unable to completely remove him from her vision. Her gaze was back on her phone as she sipped her drink, aware of him picking up the menu she had discarded earlier.

  ‘Caught by the storm?’ She smoothed her still-damp hair with a hand, wondering why she’d asked the question. The unsteady note in her voice was a surprise and she cleared her throat, telling herself firmly it was just the result of leaving her dad in his new place earlier and the drive through appalling weather.

  The man looked up and Olivia saw his surprise as he considered a reply, the menu still in his hand. ‘Yes. I’d been visiting a friend and then my train only made it to this stop before it was cancelled.’ He paused. ‘You as well?’

  ‘Yes. I hope you’re not inconvenienced for long.’ She preferred the usual brisk efficiency in her tone this time. She wasn’t about to try and draw him into a conversation neither of them wanted.

  ‘Thanks. You too.’ His eyes held hers for a second before resuming his exploration of the menu.

  Olivia returned to her phone, aware of her companion replacing the menu with his book, settling back against the leather with an ease she could no longer match. She travelled regularly for work and often found herself alone at dinner, much preferring her own company to the alternative. She used such occasions to go over her day and prepare for the next one, and despite the presence of this handsome man now opposite her, she saw no reason for this evening to be different.

  Nevertheless, she found her eyes covertly darting to glimpse him again. There was something slightly familiar about him… She dismissed the thought; she didn’t have time to wonder about such things.

  The waitress was soon back, iPad at the ready, and Olivia’s smile was casual when he too ordered shepherd’s pie. He glanced at her, an acknowledgement of their shared choice but nothing more. They both ordered red wine too, and the waitress suggested a bottle. It seemed to make sense and he waited for Olivia to decide, accepting her choice of a red that promised to be full-bodied and delicately spicy.

  When the bottle arrived a few minutes later, Olivia tasted it and nodded her acceptance so the waitress could pour, her companion still absorbed in his book. The waitress gathered up the menus and disappeared, leaving them alone in their corner.

  Olivia frowned as she scanned through an email. There was a problem with one of her clients and her assistant hadn’t been able to reach her. She began to compose a reply, her thoughts running over the negotiation she’d conducted just yesterday. It was too late to make any calls tonight, even though her client was in the States and would expect a response this evening.

  She brought up her calendar and rearranged her morning appointments to deal with this new problem before her time was swallowed up by everything else. Her sigh was irritated, and she knew her dad wouldn’t be impressed if he could see her now. He’d told her in no uncertain terms earlier that if she stared at
her phone just once whilst she was with him, then he was going back to his reading and she could leave, the visit over. But he only had her best interests at heart, and he was worried about her, no matter how often she told him—

  ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ Olivia’s head jerked up and she dropped the pen in her hand. She’d almost forgotten that her companion was there until he spoke, her mind flitting from her client to her dad and back to work again.

  The man indicated her phone before bringing his eyes back to hers. ‘You looked distracted and a little upset. I hope it’s not bad news.’

  There wasn’t exactly a question in his words and she dismissed his concern. ‘I’m fine. It’s just work, you know how it is. Everything’s twenty-four seven these days.’

  ‘Isn’t it just.’ There was a suggestion of cynicism in his tone, his fingers cradling a glass of wine, the whisky gone.

  ‘Oh?’ She could’ve kicked herself. Damn, that was a nuisance. He might be rather gorgeous with a quiet charisma she wasn’t going to admit she found attractive, but now she’d definitely made her reply sound like a question and she should’ve known better. He’d think she wanted conversation, wanted to while away their enforced hour together and make small talk.

  Olivia returned her focus to her phone so he’d realise she wasn’t interested and picked up the pen. He seemed to be of the same mind and nothing followed, leaving her free to concentrate on her new problem. She pressed send on the email she’d written.

  ‘Oh, thank goodness you’re here, we’d almost given you up.’

  Olivia’s attention switched from her phone again to find a woman hovering at the table now. Her concerned expression was darting between Olivia and the man sitting opposite her, and it soon became a beaming smile. She wore a plain blouse and black trousers and Olivia saw her name, Sally, written on a badge pinned to her top.

  ‘The weather!’ Sally was rushing on, pointing to the storm beyond the window. ‘So awful, and we were thinking you must have got stuck somewhere and we’d not heard. Anyway, here you are and many congratulations to you both.’