Bluebell's Christmas Magic: A perfect and heart-warming cosy Christmas romance for 2019

by Marie Laval

  ‘All of you have known me and all my family for… like, forever, and you think me capable of stealing from my customers? Worse still, stealing from the very people I care for?’ She stopped abruptly. Tears blurred her vision, and she wiped her eyes. Suddenly all her anger was spent and she stumbled against the table.

  A calming hand patted her shoulder, and Julie said, ‘It’s not worth you getting upset about these ridiculous gossips, my darling. Come with me.’

  Once in the vicarage kitchen, Julie pulled a chair out. ‘Sit down. I’ll make you a cup of tea.’ She boiled a kettle, and put two cups on the table. ‘I wouldn’t take too much notice of Doris or Elspeth if I were you.’

  ‘It’s not just them, though, is it? I can’t believe that neighbours, clients, and people I have known most of my life think I had something to do with the burglaries.’ Cassie’s voice broke.

  Julie Bennett shrugged. ‘It’s only a few people, and they will soon see sense. Now, drink your tea and go home.’

  Cassie drank her tea and stood up. ‘Thanks, Julie, but you are one of the few customers I have left, and I will do my job here as planned.’

  After Reverend Bennett left, Cassie poured some of her homemade lemon and vinegar cleaning fluid into a bucket, slipped her gloves on and scrubbed, wiped and polished until the kitchen taps and the sink glistened, the cupboards reflected the sunlight outside and there wasn’t a single stain left on the tiled floor. The vicarage’s bathrooms received the same treatment. Next she dusted and polished the furniture, vacuumed every room, and tackled the windows.

  The mindless, repetitive gestures soothed her. Perhaps the burglaries would stop and the whole thing would blow over. But then people might say that she had stopped her criminal activities because she had been afraid of being caught. It was far better if the police arrested the culprit so she could clear her name. This really had to be one of the most horrid weeks of her life. Every day had brought more heartache and bad news.

  She went home a couple of hours later. Something puzzled her… How had Fluffy managed to sneak in and out of Bluebell Cottage that morning? As for the cat being covered in lemon-scented oil, she understood how that had happened the moment she opened the front door.

  The diffuser bottle she kept on the hall table had smashed to the ground, and a puddle of scented oil slicked the floor, with ginger cat hairs sticking to the tiles… Fluffy must have knocked the bottle over and decided it was a good idea to roll about in the oil. Sighing, she stepped over it and followed the paw prints to the kitchen. They shot across the floor, all the way to the back door…

  But the door was locked, she had made sure of that before leaving that morning! Just to make sure, she rattled the handle.

  For a moment, she stared at the paw prints, unable to understand how it was possible that they seemed to go right to the door. It wasn’t as if the cat could have gone through it, was it? No, of course not. Someone must have opened the door to let it out.

  Her granddad must have called home that day.

  She took her phone out of her bag and rang him at the farm.

  ‘I didn’t go home today, Trifle,’ he said.

  ‘Did you lend Rachel or Tim your keys by any chance?’

  ‘Nope. Why do you ask?’

  Now wasn’t the moment to worry him about Fluffy or the back door, and even less about the nasty rumours some residents from Red Moss were spreading about her. Tonight was Comedy Night at the Eagle and Child, one of the most important events of the year for her grandfather. Kerry’s and Alastair’s wedding had given him his confidence back.

  ‘It’s nothing. Forget it. How are you feeling? Are you ready for tonight?’

  He sighed. ‘I’m trying to go over my jokes one last time but my knee is playing up and I can’t concentrate.’

  It was a good job then that she had copied all the jokes he was planning to perform that evening onto Post-it notes as backup in case his memory failed him.

  ‘You have your medication, don’t you? Why don’t you take a couple of tablets for the pain?’

  ‘Good idea. I’ll do it right now.’

  There was a knock on the front door. Frowning, she made her way to the front door. What if Doris had come to have another rant about her beloved cat?

  ‘I have to go. There’s someone at the door. I’ll see you tonight.’

  ‘See you tonight, Trifle.’

  It wasn’t Doris, but two police officers, a man and a woman, who stood on the doorstep.

  The policeman smiled. ‘Cassie Bell?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Could we have a word?’

  She gasped, and rested her hand on the doorjamb for support. ‘Has something happened to a member of my family? My mum or my step-dad in Tenerife?’

  The man shook his head. ‘No, it’s nothing like that. Don’t worry.’

  She let out a sigh of relief and moved aside. ‘Please come in. I’m sorry for the broken glass and the smell. My neighbour’s cat knocked over a bottle of some essential lemon oil this morning,’ she said as she led them into the kitchen. ‘I’ve only just come back and haven’t had time to mop it up.’

  She should stop babbling, or they would think she was nervous… But she was nervous, even though she had no idea why.

  ‘Please sit down.’ She gestured to the chairs around the table.

  ‘Nice cottage.’ The policeman smiled.

  Cassie smiled back. ‘Thank you.’

  The woman took out a notebook and a pen. ‘I understand you live here with your grandfather, Joseph Bell.’

  ‘That’s right, but he isn’t here at the moment. He is staying at Patterdale Farm with relatives.’

  ‘And you are a cleaner by trade, aren’t you? That’s your van, parked outside.’

  Cassie nodded. ‘All my papers, my road tax and insurance, are in order, and I don’t think I drove through any red lights. Did I?’

  She smiled but the policewoman’s face remained stony. ‘Your name was mentioned in connection with a series of burglaries that were committed in and around Red Moss recently.’

  ‘What?’ Cassie’s ears started buzzing, her body felt cold and clammy at the same time, and a wave of nausea made her heave. She gripped the back of a chair for support. ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’

  The policeman stood up and pulled the chair out for her. ‘Please sit down, Miss Bell. I’ll get you some water.’

  He poured some tap water into a glass and handed it to her.

  ‘Thank you.’ She took the glass with a trembling hand.

  ‘Better?’ he asked. When she nodded, he carried on. ‘Would you mind telling us where you were on the following days?’ And he listed several recent dates.

  Once her head had stopped spinning and her breathing was under control, Cassie pulled her diary out of her handbag and flicked through the pages to find the first date the policewoman had mentioned. ‘I write down all my appointments with clients.’

  The policewoman wrote everything down, then snapped her notebook shut and rose to her feet, followed by her colleague.

  ‘We will check all this with your clients. Thank you for cooperating with us this morning. We’ll be in touch.’

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  When Cassie walked into the Eagle and Child that evening most tables were occupied. It was standing room only at the bar, and from what she could see the back room was packed too. Red Moss’s residents had turned out in force to support their local comedians and enjoy Big Jim’s famous mulled wine.

  She scanned the room and her heart sank. Stefan wasn’t there. She hadn’t really expected him to be, even if he had promised her granddad he’d attend – not after the way they had parted at Kerry’s wedding reception. She didn’t have his mobile number so she couldn’t even reach him on his mobile. Perhaps it was for the best… What would she tell him anyway? He had made it crystal clear what he thought of her.

  She glanced at the tiny stage that Big Jim had, like every year, erected next to the
Christmas tree, and checked her handbag once again for the Post-it notes with her grandfather’s jokes she had bundled together in preparation for the evening. His memory seemed fine these days, but it was better to be prepared.

  From the table Big Jim had reserved for her family, she waved at Mason and Brenda, and at Salomé and Cecilia on the other side of the room. Behind the bar Sadie was chatting up Salomé’s new employee. Her friend had been right about Max – or Maximilien, as he apparently preferred to be called. The man was indeed gorgeous. Tall, with green eyes and dark brown hair, he had a winning smile and the talent to create the most delicious pastries, which Salomé had forced on her all week under the guise of doing quality control. It was a shame her stomach was so knotted she hadn’t been able to enjoy them…

  She had attended Comedy Night every year since she was a child, but it felt different this time, and not only because it was her granddad’s last ever performance. She felt restless, and worry and sadness weighed heavily on her chest. Every time the door opened her heart stopped, then bumped to a start again. She forced a deep breath in. It was useless. She’d better accept once and for all that Stefan wasn’t coming back.

  Big Jim brought over a cup of mulled wine. The worried look on his face contrasted with the bright and cheerful red and green cowboy shirt he was sporting that evening. ‘Hi, Cassie. Where’s your granddad? The show starts in less than half an hour.’

  Cassie frowned. ‘He should be here by now… He’s coming with Tim and Rachel. Perhaps their babysitter was running late. Let me check my phone.’

  As ‘reigning comedy king’, her granddad would be last on stage but he needed to be there to open the competition and introduce the first contestant.

  ‘There’s a text from Rachel.’ She read it out, ‘“Small problem with Joseph but on our way now.” I wonder what could be the matter.’

  ‘Never mind. I’ll ask Sadie to hand out more mulled wine while we’re waiting.’ Big Jim hesitated. ‘Actually, Cassie, I wanted to tell you that Ruby and I don’t believe a word of these stupid rumours flying about in the village… you know, about the burglaries.’

  Her smile crumpled as a toxic mix of shame and anxiety churned inside her, making her want to cry all over again. ‘Thanks, Jim. It’s sweet of you to say so.’

  ‘I believe the police came to see you today.’

  ‘Nothing stays a secret for long around here, does it?’ She sighed. ‘Yes, that’s true. Two police officers came to see me this afternoon. I can’t wait for them to catch that burglar, whoever they are.’

  He put his big hand on her shoulder and gave her a comforting squeeze. ‘We all do, love. The truth will come out eventually, don’t worry. Let me get you more mulled wine to cheer you up.’

  He pushed his way through the crowd at the bar, and she checked her phone again. There was no new text from Rachel.

  Tom Hays, one of her grandfather’s friends sitting at a nearby table, pointed at his watch and called out, ‘Where’s your granddad? I bet the old rascal chickened out when he heard there were people from London in the audience. The old “What did the policeman say…” or “Doctor, doctor” jokes won’t cut it with them!’

  People from London? Her fingers toying nervously with her phone, she glanced around the room, and spotted several of Alastair’s friends standing near the bar. She couldn’t see Nathan but perhaps he was in the back room. If he was here, she would tell him she would not take up his offer. He had given her until the following morning, but her mind was made up and there was no point in delaying their conversation.

  She turned to look at Tom. ‘He’s on his way right now,’ she replied with more assurance than she felt.

  It was almost half-past eight when Tim, Rachel and her grandfather finally arrived. Tim walked ahead to carve a passage through the crowd, and Rachel linked arms with her granddad to support him. Cassie couldn’t repress a gasp when she saw how ill and frail he looked. His shoulders were hunched, he looked pale and old, and his hand was shaking when he took his tweed cap off and put it on the table.

  Cassie put her hand on his arm, worry gnawing at her chest. ‘What’s wrong? You look awful.’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong, Trifle,’ he answered with a shrug. ‘I got a bit confused with my arthritis medication this afternoon, that’s all. I’m all right now.’

  ‘What do you mean, you got confused?’

  Rachel shook her head. ‘He took a couple of sleeping tablets instead of his arthritis pills. We only realised something was wrong when he didn’t come down to eat his tea, and when even the boys jumping on his bed didn’t disturb him. It took us hours to wake him up, that’s why we’re so late.’

  Cassie gasped. ‘Granddad! Did you not look at the box?’

  ‘I did, pet, but I couldn’t find my glasses. The pills were all mixed up and they looked the same to me.’

  ‘He’s right,’ Rachel said. ‘The sleeping tablets were inside the box of arthritis medication.’ She looked at him sternly. ‘I don’t know how this could have happened. It could have been extremely serious, Joseph, you realise that.’

  ‘Aye. I’m sorry, darling.’ He clasped his shaking fingers together on the table, and Cassie felt a rush of love and tenderness for him.

  ‘I only picked up the box of medication from the cottage last week. In fact, it was Lambert who fetched it from the bathroom cabinet for me. I must have mixed up the tablets ages ago, but didn’t realise as I haven’t needed them for a while.’

  Rachel frowned. ‘It was last Friday, the day after our Louis broke his arm. Your knee was aching that day too, and that evening you went to bed straight after tea, and didn’t even read the boys their story. You must have taken a sleeping tablet then too and we didn’t realise. Who knows how long you’ve been doing that.’

  Cassie’s grandfather nodded. ‘I suppose it explains why I was falling asleep during the day when you were out at work and waking up all befuddled to find that it was already evening.’

  Tim came back with three cups of mulled wine and a pint of orange juice that he placed in front of her grandfather. ‘That’s all you’ll be drinking tonight, Joseph.’ He winked. ‘Mixing alcohol with sleeping pills isn’t a good idea, especially when you have your act to get through.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right.’ Joseph shook his head but the look of utter dejection on his face made Cassie laugh, and she pecked a kiss on his cheek.

  ‘You can have a drink tomorrow evening, after the fair,’ she said to cheer him up.

  The noise level in the pub suddenly increased as Big Jim made his way to the stage. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here tonight for our annual Christmas Comedy Night. The reputation of our comedians draws crowds from the whole of Cumbria, and tonight again our contestants have come from far and wide and represent the best of comic genius our region has to offer, from Windermere to Keswick, from Troutbeck to Arnside.’

  People laughed, but Jim soldiered on. ‘As you know, our very own Joseph Bell has for the past fifteen years been our comedy champion. He is defending his title tonight and we cannot wait for him to regale us with his witty puns and unique jokes.’

  He gestured for Cassie’s grandfather to come forward. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Joseph Bell!’

  He passed the mike to Cassie’s granddad, who smiled and waited for the clapping to die down. Colour had come back to his cheeks, and he was standing tall and straight again.

  ‘Once again our friend Big Jim has set up the stage next to the Christmas tree, even though I tell him every single year that it’s a bad idea, because it gives us “pines and needles”.’

  People jeered but he carried on. ‘He never listens to me. It was the same the other day, when he was stuffing himself with chocolate log. “Slow down, Jim,” I said, “or Yule get indigestion!” But like I said Big Jim always does exactly as he pleases – his sense of style, for example, is unique.’

  He grimaced and pointed to Jim’s cowboy shirt. ‘He went to town to buy a ca
mouflage shirt the other day, but as he couldn’t find any, he came back with that instead.’

  Big Jim shook his head, clapped his hand on his shoulder and handed him a piece of paper that Cassie’s granddad read out loud. ‘I am pleased to announce our first contestant of the evening, Rob Quince, who has come all the way from sunny Walney. Come here, son, don’t be shy!’

  A tall, gangly young man, with a face as red as a tomato climbed onto the stage. Cassie’s granddad whispered something to him and they both laughed, then he wished him good luck and came back to sit down.

  Cassie couldn’t resist giving her grandfather another kiss. ‘Well done,’ she said as she leant against his arm, breathing in his familiar, reassuring scent.

  ‘You’re a good girl, Trifle.’ He looked around the crowd, frowned, and turned back to her. ‘I thought Lambert would be here tonight.’

  Her eyes filled with tears at the mere mention of Stefan’s name. She blinked and looked away. ‘He left after Kerry’s wedding. I haven’t seen him since.’

  ‘Have you two had a falling out?’

  Her throat too tight to speak, she gave a little nod.

  ‘He’ll be back. He promised, didn’t he?’ He gave her hand a comforting pat.

  There were seven contestants in total, and each with a very different kind of humour. Some told traditional jokes, others more risqué puns. There were even two female mimes.

  ‘What was that all about?’ her grandfather asked, shaking his head in dismay as the young women pirouetted off the stage, waving their black bowler hats and squirting water at the audience. ‘They didn’t even say a word! Jokes are meant to be spoken. It’s a comedy night, not a flamin’ circus.’

  ‘They were funny, though, you have to admit,’ Tim said, bright red from laughing.

  Cassie nudged her grandfather. ‘It looks like it’s your turn. How are you feeling?’

  ‘Never better.’ But he struggled to get up from his chair, and Tim had to help him climb onto the stage.

  ‘Why don’t you go to bed and sleep it off, Granddad?’ a man with a London accent shouted from the bar.