A Country Village Christmas

by Suzanne Snow

  ‘I was not snuffling! You’re seriously comparing me to Piglet?’

  ‘Just the snuffling. It was cute.’

  ‘If I did fall asleep – and I’m not admitting I did – it was because your reading was so lovely.’

  ‘You sure?’ Tom stretched out on the sofa again, the book on the floor. ‘’Cause I was going to suggest that we carry on tomorrow but if you’re just going to be snoring your head off every time I start then there’s not much point. We only got as far as decreasing the surplus population before you were away.’

  ‘Maybe I should be reading to you? See if I can put you to sleep.’

  ‘You’re on. Your turn tomorrow and then I’ll do the next night. Let’s see if we can finish it before Christmas, five staves. I’ll complete the first one tonight, as long as you don’t fall asleep on me again.’

  ‘What will happen if I do?’ Olivia swallowed as he shifted to stare at her.

  ‘Fall asleep and I’ll show you.’

  ‘What about your book? Wouldn’t you rather be writing in the evenings?’ Changing the subject seemed safer.

  ‘I’m almost there.’ There was a note of triumph in Tom’s reply that had her sitting up straight. ‘Final chapter this week and then I start editing, trying to layer it.’

  ‘Tom, that’s brilliant! I’m so pleased. Wow. Congratulations.’

  ‘I haven’t finished it yet,’ he warned, but Olivia could see the happiness that his achievement and her words had brought. ‘But I think it’s going to be okay. I think.’

  ‘Is anyone going to read it before you submit?’ The answer followed the question and they both spoke at the same time.

  ‘My dad.’

  ‘Your dad.’ Tom laughed. ‘He’s already read the first five chapters.’

  ‘And?’

  Tom pursed his lips, trying to disguise his delight. ‘He liked them.’

  ‘And now the truth.’ She was still staring at Tom, wanting him to succeed, wanting to him hear say that he knew, and her dad knew, that his book was good, better than good. ‘Come on!’

  ‘He loved it.’ Tom held up a hand. ‘I know he’s maybe too close to me to be properly objective but he’s tough, Olivia, and I know he won’t pull his punches. He won’t try and make me feel better for the sake of it. He won’t let me waste my time.’

  ‘I know that. So you’re going to submit?’

  ‘I am. Soon as I can get the first three chapters edited.’

  ‘Perfect. What did Dad actually say?’ Tom was still hesitating, and she pushed on. ‘Come on, as your publicist you know I won’t stop until I’ve got something I can use.’

  ‘He said he’d set fire to his books in the shop himself if I didn’t have a go.’

  ‘That good, hey?’ Olivia was enjoying Tom’s relaxation, the delight he was trying to shrug off and that she already knew meant the world to him. ‘I want a signed copy. I might even read it.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘You’ve had another mad idea, haven’t you?’ Tom was making coffee for both of them when Olivia came down for breakfast.

  ‘Why would you think that?’

  She was already smiling as she found some yoghurt and added granola. She felt ready for a bacon sandwich but it would keep for another time. She’d stayed awake last night long enough for Tom to finish reading the first stave of A Christmas Carol. She’d loved every moment and wished she could make it as wonderful for him when it was her turn to read this evening.

  ‘You’ve got that glint in your eye again.’ He poured her a coffee and added milk, pushing the cup across the table. ‘And the answer’s yes.’

  ‘To what? You don’t even know what I’m going to say.’ Olivia cradled the cup in her hands, enjoying his amused expression. ‘For all you know you might just have agreed to wear breeches again. In fact, even if that wasn’t my idea, it might be now you’ve said yes to anything.’

  ‘Publicly or privately?’ There was a husky note in his voice as he sat down opposite her.

  ‘Let’s start with privately. Just in case they don’t fit.’

  ‘Oh they fit, Olivia. I know they do. Now tell me your real idea.’

  ‘Okay.’ She adored how rumpled, and yes, sexy, he looked first thing. It was a shock to realise how empty, sterile even, her apartment in Manchester would seem once she was back there alone after the holidays. Not a home, not like this. Not without Tom there. ‘Let me just check out Twitter and reply to some stuff first. And we need book five for the hashtag today.’

  ‘Ask your dad to choose this time?’

  ‘That’s what I was thinking too. There’s quite a lot of interest in this “mystery” friend of his now. A few people are speculating that it’s you as some are saying they’ve seen you here.’

  Tom shrugged. ‘I’m okay with that.’ His look became more serious. ‘I take it your dad’s told you that Christmas Eve will be the last time we open the shop?’

  ‘He has.’ A month ago Olivia wouldn’t have minded in the least and now the thought made her feel sad. Yet another thing changing and one she was no longer sure she liked, even though it was inevitable with the house being sold.

  ‘So why don’t we open it every day this week? A last hurrah, so to speak. Five more afternoons.’

  ‘Tom, that’s a great idea, I love it. But do you have the time?’

  ‘I do.’ He sounded perfectly clear. ‘What about you?’ He grinned. ‘I think I should have some help and you need the experience.’

  ‘I definitely do. And I’d like to help.’ Her clients could wait unless it was absolutely urgent; there was just one more to meet with before Christmas Day. She’d much rather be pretending to be a bookseller with Tom right now and that was new for her.

  ‘Come on then, let’s hear it. Your mad idea.’

  ‘It ties in perfectly with opening the shop every afternoon.’ Olivia was excited about what they might do for her dad and his shop. For Tom. ‘I was thinking, why don’t we open the house for a couple of hours on Christmas Eve? Dad’s coming to stay over for Christmas Day and given his history with the festival and having guests, I thought it could be a lovely way for him to catch up with some friends and say goodbye to the shop.’

  ‘I think that’s perfect, Olivia. And I’m sure your dad will too, I can just see him in here or the library, guests all around him.’ Tom was wistful, and Olivia was sure he was thinking of the times he had stayed before. ‘You don’t think it’s too much, having people on Christmas Eve? Do you think anyone will actually come?’

  ‘They will if we tweet it but it might be better not to, we don’t want to be swamped. I was just thinking of villagers, any friends he wanted to invite. The very last customers.’

  ‘We could even have a go at recreating some of his recipes.’ Tom’s eyes were gleaming now and it was Olivia’s turn to be doubtful.

  ‘Maybe a couple, we don’t want to give guests any dodgy combinations right before Christmas.’

  ‘True.’ He was stroking a hand over a jaw roughened by an overnight shadow, and she wished she were the one doing it instead. ‘I’ve got a suggestion for the final book too. How about The Night Before Christmas? It’s a lovely poem and my dad always used to read it to me when I was small.’ Tom swallowed. ‘Maybe another of our new old traditions?’

  ‘I think that would be wonderful.’ Olivia had finished her breakfast and was behind where he sat at the table before she knew it. She’d recognised the anguish when he’d mentioned his father, saw the quick glint of sorrow usually hidden away. Her arms went around Tom’s shoulders and his hands covered hers on him, her cheek against the side of his head. ‘I’m sorry about your dad.’

  ‘I know. Thank you.’ Tom was still, other than his fingers stroking hers.

  ‘You don’t have to choose that book. You can have anything.’

  ‘I think I do, I want to. Feels right somehow.’

  ‘Okay.’ Olivia was ignoring the instinct to touch her lips to his forehead, follow the sha
pe of his face to his mouth. ‘Are you going to trust me with the food for this party?’

  ‘No. Yes. I don’t know. How do you expect me to answer that when you’re holding me like this?’

  ‘Why do you think I did it?’ She’d already let go before his splutter of laughter followed. ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

  ‘We’ll do it together. If you think I’m letting you loose in this kitchen the night before Christmas then you’re crazy.’

  ‘We’ll have to go shopping, it’ll be too late to get an online order in now. I could ask The Courtyard if they can help too.’ Olivia was elated at the opportunity to do this with Tom. For her dad, for the community that had supported him. For Tom, and even for her. ‘Wait until you see my supermarket ninja skills, I can be in and out in a flash.’

  ‘Not surprising when you’re only visiting the ready-meals aisle. This time will be different.’

  ‘It will. We’re buying the mince pies for a start.’ Olivia heard Tom’s quick laugh as she collected her phone and handbag. ‘I’ve got to go to The Courtyard now anyway to pick up a gift for Annie and Jon’s baby before I go and see them. I’ll ask whilst I’m there about food.’

  ‘Good idea. Give Annie and Jon my best, it must be a wonderfully exciting time for them.’

  Olivia nodded and saw the way Tom pursed his lips. She felt that clench around her heart again at the thought of him going back to a life lived alone, wanting something different for him. Perhaps for both of them.

  ‘I don’t mean to presume but would you like their gift to come from both of us?’ she asked hesitantly. ‘It’s just some baby clothes and a new parents pamper set, when they ever get the time. Of course, I understand if you weren’t planning to do anything or would rather do it yourself. It’s from Dad and I anyway, and we could include you. If you’d like that.’

  Tom said nothing at first and she was worried she’d gone too far, had tried to make him feel he was part of something he didn’t want or a place he didn’t belong.

  ‘I’d love that, Olivia, if you’re sure?’ His voice caught for a second. ‘Annie and Jon have been really good to me since I met them, and then there was that night.’ Tom’s smile was already returning and she couldn’t help her own.

  ‘Of course I’m sure. And I don’t expect you to…’

  Tom held up a hand. ‘We can fight about that later.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘Absolutely. Whatever I need to do to make you agree to my terms.’ He was already heading for the door too. ‘Can’t stand around here arguing with you, I’ve got a final chapter to write.’ He blew her a kiss, which seemed to take them both by surprise, and she was still smiling as she left the house.

  The food studio at The Courtyard was able to supply some vegetarian canapés and Olivia thanked them gratefully for the last-minute request. She and Tom would need to sort out a proper menu and she texted him from the car before she set off to suggest doing that this evening. He agreed and his cheeky reply was still making her grin when she arrived in town. She bought packs of napkins, plates and cutlery that they could recycle afterwards and settled in a cafe for a while to go through her inbox.

  Emails dealt with, she made her way to the maternity unit in the hospital, carrying her gifts. She was sure that Annie and Jon would be inundated with visitors but Annie had been insistent that she come, and Olivia really did want to see the baby before she returned to Manchester on Boxing Day. A helpful nurse pointed the way to a small ward and Olivia quietly made her way in. She spotted Annie in the far corner at once, her auburn curls identifying her, wound into a knot on top of her head. Jon was seated beside her, and he had their daughter in his arms.

  Olivia crept nearer, desperate not to wake the baby if she was asleep. There were more visitors clustered around other beds too, the sound of soft chatter filling the ward. She reached down to give Annie a gentle hug. ‘Congratulations, we’re all so thrilled for you. My dad and Tom send their best. You look wonderful, Annie. Barely even tired.’

  ‘I can assure you I am. Thank you, Liv.’ Annie glanced at Jon, who was beaming at her with utter devotion. ‘I’m so glad you’re here, come and say hello to Hannah Grace.’

  ‘I’m not staying long, you three need your peace.’ Olivia stepped around the bed, gave Jon a quick kiss on the cheek. She recognised the peculiar blend of elation and tiredness on his face, knowing that sleep would have been in short supply these past few days. ‘Congratulations, Jon. This one will have you wrapped around her little finger in a flash.’

  ‘She already does. They both do, they’re amazing.’

  Olivia couldn’t miss the wonder in his voice as she bent down to peek at the tiny bundle in his arms. Jon pulled back the blanket to reveal more of a small round face, lashes sweeping down onto pale skin, and a head dusted with red brown hair. She was fast asleep, one tiny finger hooked around Jon’s much larger one.

  ‘Oh, Annie, Jon, she’s beautiful.’ Olivia gulped back the rush of emotion at the sight of the little baby. ‘You both must be so happy and relieved to have Hannah here safely after that excitement.’

  Olivia saw the adoring look that passed between Annie and Jon. ‘We are, absolutely. She’s a little small but otherwise healthy and they’re keeping a close eye on her. She was only in the neonatal unit for the first night.’

  Olivia placed the gift bag on the table close to the bed. ‘These are for you, and Hannah, obviously. For when you get home.’

  ‘Thank you, how kind.’ Annie looked from the bag back to Olivia. ‘Everyone’s been so lovely, I can’t wait to bring her home – hopefully on Wednesday. There’ve been a few little hiccups with feeding her but we’re definitely getting there now. Jon’s dad and step-mum are flying back from their holiday this evening and they so excited to meet her.’

  Olivia glanced at Jon, smiling as she saw that if his eyes weren’t on Annie, they were on their daughter, still sleeping peacefully in his arms. Olivia refused Annie’s offer to draw up a chair as a woman she recognised as Elizabeth Howard from Thorndale arrived in the ward, clutching flowers and beaming. Olivia excused herself and left, not wanting to take up too much of their time.

  * * *

  The house was silent when Olivia arrived, carting in her bags of shopping. She briefly wondered if suggesting a party for her dad on Christmas Eve really was a moment of madness, but she was excited by the plans she and Tom were making for him. Tom didn’t emerge from library, and she decided not to disturb him, aware that he was writing his final chapter.

  The thought made her feel miserable despite her happiness in his achievement, mulling over what he plans he might make for the new year, where he might go next. With his book finished, he would have less of a reason to stay here. She put the shopping away and sat down to upload book five to the Twitter hashtag. Her dad had replied to her earlier message with another selection, and she flicked through the copy he had directed her to:

  For #BradshawsBooksAtChristmas fifth choice Hugh wanted to share Nancy Mitford’s #ChristmasPudding with you. Christmas in the Cotswolds anyone? Poor old Fotheringay, not the book he thought!

  After the bookshop had closed for the day Tom headed back into the library and the evening was moving on when he reappeared. Olivia was going over the details of a property on her laptop in the sitting room. He was unshaven with red-rimmed eyes, but she recognised the jubilation in his expression as he stuck his head around the door.

  ‘Well?’ She drew out the word, saving the details of the property and putting her laptop aside.

  He nodded slowly. ‘Yep. One hundred and twenty-two thousand words. More to add but that’s the draft.’

  ‘Congratulations.’ Olivia was on her feet and hugging Tom almost before she’d realised, holding him tightly. He lifted her off her feet, spinning her around in the hall until they were both laughing. ‘I’m so happy for you.’

  ‘Thanks, Olivia.’ He set her down, grinning, and followed her into the sitting room. ‘It feels amazing, althoug
h this could be the point when my thinking the manuscript is utter rubbish starts kicking in.’

  ‘Maybe leave it alone for a while and then go back.’ She reached for her laptop, keeping her next words casual on purpose. ‘You do know there’s no reason to rush off and leave. The house, I mean. Just making sure you haven’t forgotten that my dad said you can stay as long as you like. Until the sale is finalised anyway.’

  ‘I know, it’s very good of him.’ Tom sank down onto the sofa, tipped his head back and yawned. ‘Good of you both.’

  ‘Not me.’ Olivia refreshed the browser and found the property but her attention was on Tom, enjoying watching him. ‘I haven’t got anything to complain about. I’m sharing with someone who was apparently voted the fourth sexiest man in breeches back in the day and it turns out he can cook too. Why would I want you to go?’

  ‘Good to know I have my uses.’ His eyes remained closed but she saw his smile.

  ‘We should celebrate.’

  ‘Celebrate what?’

  ‘You finishing your draft, that’s what.’

  ‘I’ll settle for another of your amazing cocktails and a quiet night being read A Christmas Carol to by you.’ He opened his eyes. ‘How does that sound?’

  ‘Pretty darn perfect, I’d say.’ She glanced at the property on her screen. ‘But first I have a tiny bit of work to finish and then we should plan this party for my dad properly.’

  ‘No problem. You do your work and I’ll sort supper. We can chat whilst we’re eating.’

  ‘You sure? You’re not too tired to cook?’

  ‘No.’ Tom threw her a wink as he stood up. ‘Don’t think it’ll exhaust me to pierce the film on one of those meals in the fridge.’

  ‘I’m so happy to have converted you.’ Olivia was merry as he headed out of the room. ‘Welcome to the club.’