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

by Marie Laval

  ‘Do you have any idea how lucky you were to get such an offer?’

  ‘Lucky?’

  ‘You’re hardly qualified and have no experience. You should be bloody grateful I was ready to take you on.’

  Her fingers gripped her phone more tightly. Suddenly she knew that she was doing the right thing. Nathan would always try to wriggle out of giving her the recognition she deserved, and she would never be able to prove anything against him. Unless… She glanced down at her phone, pressed on the recording button and slipped the phone back into her bag.

  ‘So that you know,’ she said, ‘I won’t be signing your non-disclosure agreement either. I intend to go to London and show Maritel’s general manager the draft sketches I have left.’

  Nathan slammed his mug on the bar, jumped down from his stool and walked towards her, his mouth twisted into a nasty, menacing scowl, and a cruel glint shone in his dark brown eyes. ‘You bitch. You won’t spoil things for me, do you hear? I won’t let you. I need this contract.’

  She took a step back. ‘You should have thought of that before, Nathan. You should have been honest and told Maritel you were using my designs.’

  She tried to keep her voice calm even though her heart drummed fast and her throat was tight. Surely he wouldn’t harm her?

  ‘You said you had other sketches,’ Nathan said. ‘Where are they? I’ll buy them from you.’

  She backed off again. ‘They’re not for sale.’

  He frowned then his face softened, and the charming, cajoling smile she remembered so well played on his lips. ‘Don’t be like that. I’m sure we can come to some agreement. What if I gave you some of the money Maritel paid for the London refurbishment… on the condition you sign that non-disclosure agreement, of course?’

  She shook her head. ‘I want them to know you used my ideas.’

  The soft look vanished from his eyes. ‘Go on then. Try it. They’ll only laugh. You’re a cleaner, for Pete’s sake! What do you know about interior design?’

  ‘I know enough to have won the competition.’

  ‘It will be your word against mine. I’ll say you stole the designs from my office when you were cleaning, that you wanted revenge because you had the hots for me… That bit is true, isn’t?’ His lips stretched into a mean smile.

  So he had known how she felt about him? Her face felt warm, but she didn’t deny it. ‘That was years ago, Nathan. I was young and impressionable.’

  ‘Ah! I knew it. You were always looking at me with big, puppy eyes…’ He shook his head, and carried on, ‘You’ll be made to pay a massive amount in damages and you’ll lose your pathetic little cleaning company, all the way down to your last feather duster.’

  He must have thought she would quake in her shoes, but she wasn’t afraid. Even if nothing came out of it, and if the Maritel executives did laugh at her like Nathan predicted, she would still take her portfolio to London and prove that it was her ideas Nathan had copied. And now, she also had the recording of their conversation…

  ‘We’ll see about that. Leave the keys to the cottage in the key box when you go, and don’t forget to clean up your mess.’

  This time he didn’t try to stop her.

  Her hands were shaking as she drove back to Bluebell Cottage. She may have looked calm in front of Nathan, but now it was over she was overwhelmed by the sheer unpleasantness of it all. She needed a moment alone and a cup of tea at home.

  A strong smell of lemon essential oil still floated in the hallway when she walked in and hung her coat. There may be no sign that Darren or Fluffy had sneaked in again, but she couldn’t help feeling restless. She would never feel safe at Bluebell Cottage until she had all the locks changed.

  The idea of talking to Piers may make her physically sick, but she needed his approval to change the locks. She also needed to clarify her position regarding the holiday lets contract… and Belthorn.

  ‘Hardy,’ Piers barked down the phone. She could hear men shouting in the background. He must be watching a rugby match.

  ‘I don’t mind if you’re paying for it,’ he said a moment later, when she had explained about fitting new locks at Bluebell Cottage. After their last encounter, she was expecting angry words, insults even, but he sounded strangely subdued, probably because there were people around.

  She took a deep breath. ‘Actually, there was something else. According to my contract I get one week’s notice, and even though I haven’t received any official confirmation it is now over a week since you fired me. I am therefore no longer your employee and you need to find a new cleaner and a housekeeper for Belthorn.’

  There was a short silence, and Piers mumbled a series of inaudible words. ‘Now you’re being hasty… I can’t find a cleaner at such short notice… I’m sure we can extend… You must stay on… I’ll make it worth your while.’

  She drew in a shocked breath. ‘Are you serious? Even if you hadn’t fired me, I would have left after what you did at the restaurant. I will drop the holiday lets keys and paperwork at your house this afternoon and transfer whatever money I owe back into Charles Ashville’s bank account with details of everything I spent so far so you can’t accuse me of any wrongdoing.’

  There was another silence. ‘I’m not at home today. I’ll come round to Bluebell Cottage.’

  ‘No!’ The thought of being alone with Piers made her skin crawl. ‘If you come to Belthorn this evening, I’ll have everything ready for you.’ And at least Piers wouldn’t try anything with Stefan there.

  He mumbled that he would be there by seven, and she put the phone down. Everything was changing… Soon she would move out of Bluebell Cottage, and with the loss of the Ashville contract and the clients who had deserted her, Bluebell Cleaning was as good as finished. On the plus side, these may be the incentives she needed to change her life around.

  She could contact Maritel, show them her designs, and even play the recording of her meeting with Nathan…

  Or she could draw a line on the past, forget Nathan and Maritel, and start afresh. There was no reason why she couldn’t offer both cleaning and designing services. She could even tweak her slogan into ‘When dust and grime get to you, or you fancy a home that’s new… call Bluebell to the Rescue!’ She pouted. Perhaps she could get her granddad to work on that one…

  The most important thing was that Stefan was back and that he loved her. She put the kettle on, dropped a tea bag into a mug and sat down. Taking her mobile out of her bag, she saw that she had a voicemail message from Patrick.

  ‘Hi, Cassie. I thought you might like to know that Darren was arrested this morning in Manchester. He was found asleep in his car at the side of the road, and taken to hospital with suspected sepsis. The police found a lot of stuff he’d stolen in the boot of his car, including my office printer and computer, so it looks like the folks he robbed in Red Moss will get their things back soon. I’ll let you know when I find out more. Bye for now.’

  Cassie sat down and heaved a sigh of relief. With Darren being arrested, no one would ever call her a thief again.

  She could plan Christmas properly now…

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  ‘There you are, young man,’ Miss Parker said as she tottered into the small room in the community centre that had been allocated to serve as Santa’s grotto. ‘A couple of homemade mince pies, and one coffee, black, no sugar.’ She smiled as she handed him the mug and the small cake. ‘See? I remembered.’

  Stefan stood up from the armchair where he had just spent a few uncomfortable hours and took the plate of cakes and the hot drink. ‘Thank you. I need these.’

  She smiled. ‘The fair is winding down, and I was wondering if I could have a word about that old story we discussed the other day.’

  ‘You mean, Ruth and André?’

  She nodded. ‘I decided that you were right. Their families need to know what was rumoured at the time. But please don’t let my talking stop you from eating. You look exhausted, if you don’t mind me say
ing.’

  ‘Shell-shocked would be more accurate. I’m not used to dealing with children.’ Stefan pulled his fake beard to drink a sip of hot coffee. The wig stuck to his scalp and tickled his neck. His head ached from the squeals of overexcited boys and girls who had bounced on his knees and from the Christmas music blearing out of speakers. And his back felt stiff, rusty and creaky from sitting down all afternoon.

  Miss Parker laughed. ‘At least the day is almost over… Now, about Ruth… My grandmother told me that there was a lot of speculation at the time that Ruth’s former fiancé, Gideon Hardy, had something to do with her death.’

  Stefan put his coffee down. ‘Ruth was scared of him.’

  ‘It looks like she had good reason to be. Gideon had a fearsome reputation for being a brute and a bully. On Christmas Eve – the night Ruth died – he drank heavily at the pub before driving his cart back to his farm. Two farm labourers saw him stop at a crossroads to harangue Ruth who was walking back to the rectory.’

  Miss Parker paused, and explained, ‘The vicar had taken her in after her parents threw her out of Patterdale Farm. The witnesses said that Gideon shouted at her then jumped down from his cart, grabbed hold of her and slapped her around the head, and before they could do anything to help, he threw her in the back of the cart and drove off. That was the last time Ruth was seen alive.’

  ‘Why didn’t they come forward when her body was recovered from Wolf Tarn?’

  ‘Perhaps they did and nobody believed them, or Hardy threatened them or paid them off to avoid being convicted. Of course, there may not have been a crime… Nobody will ever know for sure what happened to Ruth.’

  Thinking back to what Cassie had seen near Wolf Tarn on Christmas Eve ten years before, Stefan drew in a long breath and whispered, ‘Perhaps you’re wrong.’

  Miss Parker looked up at him. ‘Sorry?’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s nothing. Just an idea I had.’ A far-fetched and completely ridiculous idea, no doubt, and one he wasn’t prepared to share with Miss Parker. He could however share what he’d found out about André Vaillant during his trip to Paris.

  ‘What a tragic story,’ Miss Parker commented when he had finished. ‘Poor young man and poor Ruth.’

  ‘At least now I know that André Vaillant did not abandon the woman he loved and meant to come back to Belthorn, which I suspected all along.’

  He finished the coffee, gulped down the mince pies and handed her the empty mug and plate before slapping his false beard back on and patting the pillow stuffed in his costume. ‘I’d better get ready for more visitors…’

  Thankfully, Miss Parker was right about the fair winding down. He welcomed a few more excited children into the grotto, then the music stopped and one of the organisers told him that he could call it a day. He decided to wait for Cassie at the pub since she hadn’t paid him a visit as promised. She must have a good reason, but he couldn’t help the uneasy feeling weighing down on his chest, and which had nothing to do with the fat pillow stuck under his tunic.

  Back at the pub Tim, Mason and a couple of their friends from the mountain rescue team cheered when he walked in. They all clapped his shoulder in turn and Mason pushed a pint of bitter in front of him. ‘Here, mate, get that down you. You’ve earned it. Nobody guessed you were Santa, and the charity gets to keep all the money collected this year.’

  That was great news. At least he hadn’t suffered all afternoon for nothing.

  ‘You look shattered,’ Tim said. ‘There’s nothing more tiring than dealing with little kids. I should know. I have three!’ He grinned. ‘They may be hard work but they’re worth it. I can’t wait to see their faces when they open their presents Christmas morning. By the way, I don’t know if Cassie told you, but you’re invited for Christmas dinner.’

  ‘Am I?’ Stefan put his pint down.

  Tim’s phone let out a loud jingling sound, and he smiled as he took it out of his pocket. ‘Talking of which… it’s Rachel.’ His smile vanished the moment he put the phone to his ear.

  ‘You’re sure you looked everywhere? In the loft, and the barn? What about the tractor? He likes to climb in there, even though he’s not allowed.’ He nodded. ‘I’m on my way. Try not to worry, love. We’ll find him. He can’t have gone very far – not with his broken arm.’

  ‘Any problems?’ Stefan asked as Tim held his phone, a frown creasing his forehead.

  ‘It’s Louis. He’s nowhere to be found… The thing is, he had a temperature this morning and was left behind at the farm while Rachel took his brothers shopping, but it appears he sneaked out when Joseph was having a nap in front of the TV. Rachel said they’ve looked everywhere but they can’t find him.’

  ‘I’ll get my car keys from Jim’s flat and meet you back at the farm,’ Stefan offered.

  Tim nodded. ‘Thanks. I’ll set off now and wait for you there.’

  Stefan ran upstairs, wrenched the pillow from under his top but didn’t bother to get changed. Slipping his parka on, he shoved his fake beard, wig and red hat into the pockets. He had his sturdy army boots on and a pair of jeans under the red nylon trousers, so he would be all right if he had to walk on the hillside looking for Louis.

  Tim had already left by the time he came down. Mason and his friends said they would be on standby to help with the search for the boy, and he promised to give them updates as soon as he could. He was held up by a few people wanting to congratulate him for raising funds for the mountain rescue charity, and then he was stuck in a traffic jam and was delayed another twenty minutes.

  The dogs barked and jumped at him when he got out of the car in the muddy farmyard. Rachel opened the front door, and her face fell as she saw him.

  ‘Oh… I thought it was Tim coming back.’

  ‘Is there any news?’

  She shook her head. ‘Tim drove up to the sheepfold on his quad bike. Louis often goes there when he’s sulking.’

  ‘Have you tried the old quarry?’

  She shook her head. ‘Why would Louis go up there when he knows he’s not allowed?’

  Stefan was no expert on young boys’ minds but that probably made the quarry even more attractive. ‘I’ll check it out anyway.’ He took a torch out of the glove box and flicked the switch on to make sure it worked.

  ‘By the way, have you heard from Cassie?’

  ‘Her mobile is switched off, and she hasn’t replied to my texts. She said she was going shopping this afternoon. Please hurry…’

  The path climbed steeply up the hill and stones rolled underfoot, making progress tricky, but he swept the ground with his torchlight to make sure he didn’t veer off the track and quickly got into a rhythm. He soon came across the rusty machinery he had seen before, and took care not to slip on the broken slate or trip on the massive cables discarded by the side of the path.

  Finally he reached the fence and paused in front of the ‘Keep Out’ sign. There was nobody around, and no light shone from inside the quarry.

  Stefan called and held his breath whilst he waited for a reply.

  He called again, and this time a weak voice called back – Louis’s voice!

  ‘Louis? It’s Stefan. Are you all right?’

  ‘I slipped and I hurt my leg. Help me, please. It’s dark and it’s cold in here,’ Louis’s voice trailed off, weak and whimpering.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m coming. Keep talking so I can locate you.’

  ‘Hurry, please. I’m scared.’

  Stefan remembered the place where the grillage was broken. He lifted the rusty metal up, and crouched down to get to the other side. He kept calling out random questions to keep Louis talking as he scrambled down a narrow path littered with debris and broken slate and entered a cave. He hissed a shocked breath as his boots splashed in freezing cold water that reached up to his shins and shone his light into the back of the cave, where Louis sat, hugging his knees.

  ‘Don’t move. I’m coming to get you.’

  ‘I’m so glad you found me.’
Louis’s teeth chattered with cold and in the torchlight’s harsh glare his little face was gaunt, his eyes huge and scared and his lips had a bluish tinge.

  Stefan took off his parka and wrapped it around the boy’s shoulders. ‘Show me where you’re hurt.’

  Louis pointed to his ripped jeans and the bloodied knee peeping through the tear in the fabric.

  ‘I knew it was wrong to come here, but I was annoyed with Mum because she didn’t want to take me to town and it just wasn’t fair. So I took my metal detector to go treasure hunting… but instead I fell and I hurt myself. Now Father Christmas will be angry and I won’t get any presents, will I?’ His voice wobbled with sobs.

  Stefan gave him a reassuring smile. ‘I’m sure everything will be fine. Can you move your leg at all?’

  The boy shook his head. ‘It hurts. I think it’s broken.’

  ‘Then I’ll carry you out of here. Hang on.’ He carefully lifted the shivering boy into his arms. ‘Hold the torch so I can find the way out,’ he instructed as he started out of the cave.

  As soon as they were out into the open, he readjusted his hold on Louis so that he could hold him with one arm whilst pulling his phone out of his jeans pocket and dialling the emergency services number. Luckily he got through straight away, and the operator said that airlifting Louis would be the safest way to get him to hospital.

  ‘A helicopter will be with you in five minutes,’ she said.

  Stefan ended the call and smiled at the boy. ‘It looks like you are going on a helicopter ride.’ Despite his best efforts to keep him awake, Louis became quiet, and his head soon lolled and flopped against Stefan’s shoulder. The five minutes felt like an eternity, but at last the pulsing noise of a chopper’s rotary blades sliced through the night. The noise got louder and red and white lights flickered in the night as the craft approached. Stefan held out his mobile and waved it above his head so that the glow from the screen would alert the pilot as to his position without blinding them as his torch light would have done.

  Soon the helicopter shone a bright white light beam onto the hillside. The noise now made Stefan’s ears ache, and the gusts of freezing wind churned by the rotors as the helicopter landed almost knocked the breath out of him, but Louis didn’t even open his eyes. The paramedics – a man and a woman – jumped down. They were carrying a stretcher and a medical kit, and ran towards him.