by Karen Clarke
His gaze drifted towards the bedroom door. ‘Apart from that,’ he said, and the heat in his eyes shot my temperature up several notches. It still felt exciting to touch each other whenever we wanted – which was most of the time, when we were alone together.
‘In that case, it has to be the sleigh ride.’
His mouth curved into a grin. ‘I agree.’
It had been as magical as I’d hoped, snuggled together beneath fur blankets, wearing thermals and boots to protect against the cold, driven through the frozen beauty of the snow-swathed mountains and iced fjords by a friendly guide and a pack of beautiful, blue-eyed huskies. We’d been allowed to cuddle the friendly dogs afterwards (my personal highlight) before eating a traditional Norwegian fish dish, and sipping hot coffee around an open fire to warm us up.
Sadly, the amazing light display the guide informed us had manifested every night the previous week had failed to put in an appearance. Even so, we’d thrown ourselves into making the most of our trip, learning to master a snowmobile, attending a midnight concert at the Arctic cathedral, with its floor-to-ceiling stained glass window, and had marvelled at the ethereal beauty of the scenery all around us.
We’d feasted on crabs, tried a seaweed cocktail that wasn’t as delicious as one of Charlie’s, and eaten a meringue, vanilla-cream and almond-packed sponge called kvæfjordkake that I was going to beg Dolly to replicate the second I returned to Chamillon.
We’d been whale-watching, seen reindeer and arctic foxes, but the aurora borealis had remained stubbornly hidden behind a thick veil of cloud, and now it was almost time to leave, and for Ryan to head to London for a catch-up meeting with his agent now that he was well underway with The Rising Dawn.
‘I don’t think Gran would have had a better time, even without seeing the lights,’ I said, quashing a spike of disappointment as I disentangled myself and stood up, knowing I was going to miss the cosy cabin that had been our home for the past week. ‘I promise I won’t mention them again.’
‘I won’t hold you to that.’ Ryan gave me a lazy grin as he got to his feet and stretched – a sight I knew I’d never grow tired of seeing. ‘The taxi will be here in a minute,’ he added, reaching for his coat on the back of the sofa. ‘Have we got everything?’
‘I think so.’ Hearing a message alert on my phone, I picked it up off the table where we’d drunk coffee, and eaten local flatbreads slathered with butter, sugar and cinnamon that morning, before a final hike to look at the mountains, smiling as I read the message. ‘Apparently, Dad enjoyed Christmas at Dolly’s so much, Mum says he’s suggesting they go again this year.’
‘Wow,’ said Ryan, who’d found common ground with Dad after a slightly awkward introduction by proving surprisingly knowledgeable about farming and rural affairs. Later, he confessed he’d done some research after hearing me talk about the farm over dinner at Dolly and Frank’s, and had become engrossed in the topic. Mum, by contrast, had taken to Ryan before he’d even opened his mouth, giving Dolly a wink and a thumbs up when she thought I wasn’t looking. ‘It was an amazing Christmas though.’
My smile grew. ‘It really was.’
It had been better than I could have imagined, and not just because I appeared to have fallen in love when I’d been least expecting to. The day itself had been magical from the start: we awoke to falling snow and the glorious smell of breakfast cooked by Dad. Dolly and Frank arrived and we piled into the living room to open our presents around the tree. Even Ben had been there with Lovely Lena, via Skype, and although we’d all felt Gran’s absence, it hadn’t been the sad affair I’d dreaded. Instead, we’d reminisced over our roast turkey dinner, recalling our favourite memories, played a riotous game of Pictionary in her honour, and raised a glass of her favourite brandy, with a mince pie, and although there’d been plenty of tears, most of them had been happy.
After lunch, I took out the letters and handed them to Dolly and Mum. My heart was beating overtime, and my hands shook as I explained what I’d found. Despite Augustine’s final letter to William making it clear that she had really loved Charles, I couldn’t help worrying about their reaction. But to my relief, they were both delighted. Dolly read and re-read the letters: at first in disbelief – I can’t believe these are her words, Nina. It’s like seeing her as a young woman – then again with grief – I still miss her, you know – and finally, happiness, that she’d been wrong to assume her gran had been wishing she’d spent her married life with someone else.
‘Look, Serena, she really did love Gramps,’ she’d said, showing the letters to Mum, who’d read them, glossy-eyed, fingers pressed to her lips, slowly shaking her head as she took it all in. ‘William,’ she murmured. ‘I can’t imagine her with a William, can you?’
They kept reading out snippets to each other, and blurting, do you remember…? and Charlie had said with a twinkle, ‘Thanks a lot, Nina. My Christmas gift is going to look really rubbish now,’ which made everyone laugh, then Mum had noticed Ryan and I holding hands and burst into tears.
After lunch, Ryan called his parents to wish them a Happy Christmas and to tell them about me, and Ben called later to say he’d proposed to Lena, prompting more tears from Mum and Dolly, who’d become horribly over-emotional, and when Charlie and Elle exchanged a look that suggested it would be their turn next and more tears started flowing, Dad had suggested a walk on the beach so everyone could ‘calm down’.
A couple of days later, Dolly had invited Gérard for dinner to tell him about the letters and he’d been astonished, and touchingly moved.
‘All this time,’ he kept saying. ‘We did not know. Maggie, she did not know.’ He kept shaking his head, eyes bright and blinking. ‘I did not even read the letters. Maybe I would have known the name. You have told me about your Augustine,’ he said to Dolly, seeming suddenly stricken, but she’d assured him he couldn’t possibly have made the connection, it was too extraordinary, and it was only thanks to my nosiness that it had ever come to light.
‘It was meant to be, as Nina’s Gran would have said.’
‘And now we are… we are famille.’ Gérard had spoken with an air of wonder, and Hamish barked an agreement, and even though it wasn’t strictly true, it had felt right somehow.
‘Don’t forget your hat,’ said Ryan, bringing me back to the moment. ‘You know you don’t like having cold ears.’
‘I’ve got it.’ I pulled it from my coat pocket and over my hair, and couldn’t resist a final glance through the window.
‘I think… are those stars?’ I said to Ryan. ‘Look, I’m sure I can see some stars.’
‘I doubt it, the forecast was for more snow tonight.’ He was preoccupied, picking up our cases. ‘I’ll take these out, shall I?’
‘I can help.’ I tried to grab mine. ‘Stronger than I look, remember?’
‘Really?’
It was heavier than I remembered. ‘OK, maybe not.’ I relinquished my grip, just as the taxi drew up outside, wheels crunching over the snow. ‘Are you sure it’s OK to leave the fire burning?’
‘The owners said it was fine, they’ll be along to clean the place shortly.’
‘Seems wrong to think of anyone else staying here.’
‘I know what you mean.’
Ryan turned off the light and we stood for a moment and I knew I’d remember this week as the start of the rest of my life, then the taxi blasted its horn and I almost shot out of my skin. Chuckling, Ryan carried our cases out, and I followed with a pair of smaller bags, boots squeaking on the snowy path away from the cabin.
As he loaded the boot, I felt in my pockets for the key. ‘I’ll just lock up,’ I said.
‘Don’t forget to put the key in the…’
‘…little black box,’ I said. We often finished each other’s sentences these days. Charlie found it funny, even though I’d heard him do the same with Elle.
As I reached the door, I remembered something. ‘I left my phone on the table,’ I called to Ryan, feeling a lurch
that I’d nearly forgotten it. ‘I won’t be a minute.’
Inside, the air was warm with the scent of woodsmoke and pine. I crossed to the table, aware the darkness from earlier had lifted, and a luminous white glow was spreading through the room, as though the moon was rising, and something was happening at the edges of my vision – the light taking on a greenish tinge, as if…
I flew back to the door. ‘Ryan!’ I yelled. ‘Ryan, it’s happening!’
Back inside, I ran to the balcony doors, slid them open and stepped outside, my breath catching as ribbons of emerald began to shimmer and dance between the stars, then Ryan was behind me, drawing me close, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist.
‘Either we’re about to be abducted by aliens, or we’re finally getting our light show,’ he murmured, and I gave a choking laugh, the view blurring momentarily as tears filled my eyes.
‘It’s so beautiful.’
As the sky erupted in a dancing, swirling mass of light over the winter landscape, the neon-green merging into violet, I twisted to look at Ryan and saw that his eyes were misted with emotion too. ‘If I hadn’t come in to get my phone, we might have missed it,’ I whispered, and heard Gran’s voice, as clearly as if she was standing next to me. Maybe it was meant to be.
‘Good job you did,’ said Ryan. ‘This is definitely going in my next book, by the way.’
I blinked away my tears. ‘What about the driver?’
‘I’m not putting him in the book.’
I gave him a nudge. ‘I mean, he’ll wonder where we are.’
There was a smile in Ryan’s voice when he said softly, ‘Oh, I think he’ll understand.’
For a long while after that, the only sound was our breathing in the cold night air, until the colours eventually began to fade and the stars reappeared, glittering like tiny diamonds, and Ryan kissed my frozen cheek tenderly.
‘Ready to go home?’
I turned, holding him close. ‘I’m already there,’ I said.
If I'll be Home for Christmas has left you feeling all festive and warm and fuzzy, don't miss The Christmas Café at Seashell Cove, where more Christmas magic and mistletoe awaits. Get it here!
The Christmas Café at Seashell Cove
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas at the café at Seashell Cove, where there’s hot chocolate to keep you warm – and the man of your dreams could be waiting…
Interior designer Tilly Campbell loves being carefree and single. But her latest job is redecorating the cosy local café for a Christmas party, and when her friends confess their plans for the big night – including a proposal, a declaration of love and a pregnancy announcement – Tilly starts to wonder if she might be missing out…
Transforming the café into a winter wonderland is more of a challenge than she thought, so when she bumps into gorgeous newcomer Seth, Tilly welcomes the distraction. Seth is a single father, struggling to settle his son Jack into their new cottage, and Tilly is determined to help them make their house into a home in time for Christmas.
But with the café still in chaos just days before the party it looks like it’s going to be a Christmas to remember for all the wrong reasons… With friends old and new relying on her, can Tilly save the Christmas party?
And could she finally find love waiting for her under the mistletoe?
A heart-warming, hilarious read about friendship, family and the meaning of Christmas. Perfect for fans of Sue Moorcroft, Holly Martin and Debbie Johnson!
Get it here!
Hear More from Karen Clarke
If you enjoyed I’ll Be Home for Christmas and want to keep up-to-date with all Karen Clarke’s latest releases, sign up to her email list here. Your email address will never be shared, and you can unsubscribe at any time.
Books by Karen Clarke
The Little French Cafe series
Escape to the Little French Café
Summer at the Little French Café
I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Seashell Cove series
The Café at Seashell Cove
The Bakery at Seashell Cove
The Christmas Café at Seashell Cove
Beachside series
The Beachside Sweet Shop
The Beachside Flower Stall
The Beachside Christmas
Being Brooke Simmons
My Future Husband
Put a Spell on You
A Letter from Karen
I want to say a huge thank you for choosing to read I’ll be Home for Christmas. If you did enjoy it, and want to keep up-to-date with all my latest releases, just sign up at the following link. Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.
Sign up to here!
It was such a pleasure to revisit the Île de Ré in winter for my Christmas tale and tell Nina’s story. She has her reasons to want to escape the festive season, which – being a lover of Christmas – is hard to understand, but I think anyone who has lost someone they love – as Nina has – can find it a very difficult time of year. I was keen to explore what home really means and how, often, it’s so much more than a place or a building – it’s being with people you love, who love you in return, whether that’s in Chamillon, England, or even the Arctic Circle, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Northern Lights!
I hope you loved I’ll be Home for Christmas and if you did, I would be very grateful if you could write a review. I’d love to hear what you think, and it makes such a difference helping new readers to discover one of my books for the first time.
I love hearing from my readers – you can get in touch on my Facebook page, through Twitter, Goodreads or my website.
Thanks,
Karen
www.writewritingwritten.blogspot.com
Escape to the Little French Café
On the beautiful French coast lies the Café Belle Vie, a peaceful haven offering a warm welcome and delicious pains au chocolat – and where Natalie’s quiet life is about to be turned upside down…
When thirty-one-year-old Natalie Bright’s boyfriend dumps her and immediately gets engaged to his ex-girlfriend, she escapes her heartbreak and moves to the charming village of Chamillon on the Île de Ré.
She’s determined to build a new life there: writing about farmer’s markets for a local magazine, exploring the local vineyards on her bike, and taking advantage of the sunshine. And in the Café Belle Vie she finds a bustling community – including new best friend Charlie – and a near-constant supply of cakes.
All in all, things are looking pretty good.
So when a blast from the past – her teenage crush Jay Merino – suddenly turns up in Chamillon, Natalie’s thrown. She’s sworn off men ever since she moved to France, but she and Jay have a connection that stretches back years.
But could taking a chance on an old flame complete her new life – or ruin everything she’s worked so hard for?
A gorgeous rom com full of sunshine, croissants and sparkling romance! Perfect for fans of Debbie Johnson, Zara Stoneley and Debbie Macomber.
Get it here!
Summer at the Little French Café
In the beautiful village of Chamillon lies the Café Belle Vie, where you’ll always find croissants and friends when you need them the most – and where Elle is hoping to uncover the truth about her past…
Thirty-year-old Elle Matheson has decided it’s finally time to find the mother who gave her up as a baby. With a faded postcard from the Café Belle Vie in hand – one of the very few things she has from her mother – she heads straight to the Île de Ré to begin her search.
With only the postcard and the ivory shawl she was wrapped in as clues, finding her mum is like trying to find a needle in a haystack, even with the help of friendly – and gorgeous – café-owner Charlie. And since Elle hasn’t exactly told her younger sister what she’s up to, the little white lies about where she is are starting to add up…
But Elle is really starting to feel at home on the
beautiful island. The locals are welcoming, the café is homely, and Charlie is always there with a helping hand, a listening ear, and a pain au chocolat.
Is Elle about to discover not just where she came from – but where she belongs?
A hilarious rom com perfect for reading in the sunshine! Fans of Debbie Johnson, Zara Stoneley and Debbie Macomber will love Karen Clarke!
Get it here!
The Café at Seashell Cove
Welcome to the Café at Seashell Cove, where you’ll find irresistible home-baked cakes, smiling friendly faces – and maybe even a second chance at love…
When Cassie Maitland needs a holiday from her glamorous but stressful job in event management, she escapes home to gorgeous Seashell Cove, where her family’s cosy café sits perched on the cliffs above sparkling waves and golden sand.
But a lot has changed while Cassie’s been away: her parents have transformed their tired café into a welcoming haven, her friends Meg and Tilly have whole new lives, and old flame Danny’s twinkling eyes and winning smile make Cassie feel even more flustered than they used to.
