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

by Marie Laval

  ‘What’s the status of the casualty?’ the woman asked when she reached him.

  Stefan mentioned the boy’s injured leg and his broken arm. ‘I think he’s got hypothermia too. He’s become drowsy in the past few minutes,’ Stefan added as he lowered a sleepy Louis onto the stretcher. The paramedics checked Louis’s breathing, examined his arm and his injured leg, and covered him with a blanket.

  ‘You’re coming too,’ the medic told him, as he gave Stefan his parka back and gestured to the helicopter.

  Stefan recoiled. ‘I’d rather make my way back to the farm. I must tell Louis’s parents that he is safe and on his way to hospital.’ He hadn’t flown in a helicopter since the crash in Mali, and he’d rather walk miles on his own in the dark than climb on board.

  He took another step back but the medic shook his head. ‘There’s no need. We’ll radio the emergency services and they’ll let them know. We don’t want you getting lost or injured on your way back down and having to respond to another emergency tonight. Get in.’

  Every second he delayed getting in the chopper put Louis at risk, and this time he had no choice other than to comply. The noise and vibrations of the craft reverberated inside him, all the way to his core. His heart thumped, his stomach churned and cold sweat pearled on his forehead, and his hands shook as he clipped his belt on.

  The pilot turned round and gave him the thumbs up, and Stefan nodded back. A few months before, he had been in the piloting seat, and now the thought of a ten-minute flight gave him a panic attack…

  He had to get a hold on himself. He focussed his attention on the medics as they checked Louis’s vitals, and when the helicopter lifted off and took to the sky, he shoved his hands in his pocket and fiddled with the wig and the fake beard, but he was so tense it felt like he was about to snap.

  They were a few minutes into the flight when Louis opened his eyes and looked around, fear and confusion in his eyes as he took in his surroundings.

  ‘Where am I? What’s going on? Where’s my mum?’ His voice wobbled as he moved restlessly on the stretcher.

  ‘We’re taking you to hospital so the doctors can take a look at you,’ the female medic said, shouting over the noise of the engine.

  ‘I want my mummy. Now!’ Louis’s eyes filled with tears and his face twisted in pain. He needed something to distract him until they landed.

  Stefan leaned over. ‘Listen, pal, your mum and dad will be at the hospital soon after we get there. In the meantime, I’m here with you… and if you’re a good boy I’ll let you in on a secret. Can you keep a secret?’

  Louis looked at him and nodded. Stefan took his wig, hat and beard out of his pocket and slipped them on, and Louis’s eyes almost popped out in shock. ‘You’re… Santa?’

  ‘Not the real one but Santa couldn’t come to the fair today and asked me to stand in for him. It was me today in the grotto, but you mustn’t tell anyone – not even your brothers.’

  ‘The real Santa let your borrow his clothes?’ Louis’s eyes filled with wonder.

  ‘He did.’ He wasn’t exactly lying… and if he was, it was for a good cause.

  Opposite him, the medics smiled.

  ‘Can I let you in on another secret? I haven’t been in a helicopter for a while and I’m feeling a bit nervous.’ Terrified would be a more accurate description of his state of mind right now.

  ‘Are you scared you’ll have another accident, like the one you had in Africa?’ Louis looked at him with concern. How mature and concerned he sounded.

  Stefan nodded.

  ‘Then I’ll hold your hand. Don’t be afraid. Everything will be all right.’ And the little boy sneaked his hand in his and gripped his fingers tight.

  The medic tapped on his arm and smiled. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yeah, I am now.’ Still holding Louis’s hand, Stefan smiled back and reclined against the seat. His fear about flying slowly subsided. It would be fine. This wasn’t Mali. No armed thugs lay in ambush, waiting to shoot them down. They were on their way to the hospital, and he would soon be with Cassie.

  Chapter Forty

  Cassie smiled as she admired the feast laid out on the kitchen table. There was fresh bread and a pot of that pâté Salomé said French people were crazy about, a platter of king prawns and smoked salmon, three kinds of French cheese and a mixed salad. A bottle of champagne chilled in the fridge together with a deluxe Yule log from Salomé’s bakery. She had decorated the kitchen with fresh sprigs of pine and holly, lit a fire and the fairy lights in the drawing room, and plumped up all the cushions she had made in the past few weeks.

  There may be no tree, tinsel or baubles, but Belthorn was ready for Christmas… And so was she. She had taken a bath, washed her hair and put make-up on, before slipping on a slinky black satin dress with a low-cut front that Cecilia had lent her and her black pumps. There would be no dungarees, Doc Martens boots or bandanas that evening, only softness and seduction. At least that was the plan.

  Cassie checked the clock. Seven already. Where was Stefan? She should have called at the fair to remind him not to be late, but she’d had too much fun shopping and chatting to her friends at The Studio that she had left it too late and the community centre was closing when she drove past. And then she had driven back to Belthorn in a hurry to get everything ready.

  The sound of a car engine broke the silence. At last, he was back! She rushed to the hallway to open the front door, and her spirits plummeted. It wasn’t Stefan’s Range Rover that stood in front of the house but Piers’s SUV.

  She may not want to see him on her own, but they had unfinished business, and it was too late to pretend she wasn’t in, so she stood on the threshold in the freezing cold.

  ‘Hello, gorgeous.’ He smiled his usual boyish smile as he climbed out of his car, combed his fingers in his mop of light-blond hair and gave her a long, slow stare.

  ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes,’ he added in a hoarse voice as he took a few unsteady steps forward. He reeked of beer. How could he even drive when he’d been drinking?

  She had no intention of letting him come into the house. ‘Stay here while I get the paperwork and the keys,’ she said, retreating into the hallway and pushing the door closed.

  Ignoring her, he pushed the door aside and strode straight in. ‘Not so fast. Don’t you think you should ask me in and offer me a drink so we can talk?’

  She shook her head. ‘I think you’ve had enough to drink already, and I don’t want to talk. I only want to give you the files and the keys.’

  ‘Well, I want to talk. You are causing me a lot of problems, Cassie.’ He glared at her, all pretence of joviality gone from his face or his voice. ‘There’s no way I can find a new cleaner so fast. You can’t quit… Be reasonable.’

  She hissed a shocked breath as if she’d been stung. ‘Reasonable? You do have a short memory! You fired me, remember? What’s more, you questioned the quality of my work, accused me of stealing from the cottages, and then tried to blackmail me into sleeping with you. The only reasonable thing to do, as far as I’m concerned, is to keep as far away from you as I can.’

  He tightened his mouth and a twitch appeared by the side of his left eye. ‘What if I increased your fees – if I forgot about the rent at Bluebell Cottage?’

  She crossed her arms. ‘I still wouldn’t stay on. It’s over, Piers.’

  He let out a long sigh. ‘That bitch Gabrielle is mithering me, asking me for audits, accounts and all kinds of reports, and this morning she called to demand I hire you to refurbish this place and the cottages.’

  She stood still. ‘Gabrielle wants me to renovate the cottages?’

  He nodded. ‘And Belthorn too… She wants to see your proposals and your budget as soon as possible.’

  ‘How does she know about my designs?’

  He sneered. ‘Don’t play the innocent with me. She knows because you complained about me, probably threatened to sue me for sexual harassment. And you pushed that refurbis
hing scheme of yours at the same time… Put a bit of pressure on her that way. It was very clever, really.’

  ‘I didn’t tell Gabrielle anything. In fact, I haven’t spoken to her for months.’

  ‘So who did? How does she know my management style is inappropriate?’ He made gestures with his fingers to indicate speech marks. ‘And who told her about your so-called skills as a designer?’

  ‘I did,’ Stefan said as he walked into the hallway, his face red from the cold. He smiled at her. ‘I knew she would love your ideas. I hope you don’t mind.’

  He narrowed his eyes to stare at Piers. ‘I also told her that I didn’t think much of the way you behaved with Cassie.’

  ‘Stefan!’ Heaving a sigh of relief, Cassie rushed to his side. He enclosed her in his arms with a deep sigh and kissed her forehead, before pulling away and glancing from her to Piers and back to her again, a quizzical look on his face. ‘What’s going on? Are you all right?’

  She nodded. ‘Piers came to collect the paperwork for the holiday lets. I quit working for the Ashville Estate.’

  Piers gave her a sheepish look and made a gesture with his hands. ‘Cassie, come on. There’s no need to be so hasty. Can we not come to some kind of arrangement? What am I going to do if I can’t find a cleaner at such short notice?’

  She smiled. ‘Buy a pair of rubber gloves, a packet of sponges and some cleaning fluid and do it yourself. I’m sure you’ll manage.’

  She went into the drawing room, and collected the bag with the logbooks, paperwork and keys she had gathered, and she handed it to him. ‘Good luck, Piers, and have a Merry Christmas.’

  He snatched the bag from her, cast a murderous glance in her direction and stormed out. Seconds later, the revving of his engine resounded outside.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’ She nestled in Stefan’s arms, her nose brushed against the red Father Christmas nylon tunic and she looked up in surprise. ‘Why are you still dressed as Santa? And where have you been all this time? I was getting worried, especially when Piers showed up and I was on my own.’

  He let out a long sigh. ‘It’s been quite a day, but before I tell you all about it, I need to sit down and have a bite to eat.’

  As he demolished the pâté and the bread, the salmon and the cheese, he told her about Louis’s misadventure in the old quarry and the helicopter flight to the hospital. ‘He’ll be fine but he had to stay in overnight for observation,’ he said. ‘I left when Tim and Rachel arrived.’

  ‘Poor little boy.’ She looked at him, eyes full of concern, and touched her fingers to the sleeve of his red tunic. ‘What about you? What was it like to be in a helicopter again?’

  How well she knew him already. He met her tender gaze, and covered her hand with his. ‘I was terrified at first. I couldn’t even climb into the chopper… but I did, and now I think I’ll be all right. It may take me a while to get there, but I think I can fly again.’

  ‘That’s great news!’ She laughed and clapped her hands. Her beaming smile dug those cute dimples in her cheeks again, filling his heart with sunshine and joy, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

  ‘We must celebrate!’ she added. ‘We’ll take the bottle of champagne to the drawing room and drink it in front of the fire.’

  ‘Before that, I’d like to talk to you.’ He rose to his feet, took her hands and pulled her up. He’d thought about it whilst waiting for Tim and Rachel to arrive at the hospital, and in the taxi back to Red Moss.

  ‘Put your boots on, wrap up in your coat and your hat. We’re going outside.’

  Her happy smile faded, her face paled and her fingers tensed in his grip. ‘But…’

  He looked down. ‘It will be all right, Cassie. Come with me. If this afternoon taught me anything, if you taught me anything over the past few weeks, it’s that sometimes you need to face your fears or you get stuck – stuck in the past, stuck in misery and regrets, with darkness and ghosts crowding your heart and your mind, and stopping you from moving on. Come outside with me. I’d like to tell you a story.’

  ‘Why can’t you tell me your story here?’

  Without leaving her any more time to protest, he led her into the hallway, took her coat off the rack and handed it to her before shrugging his parka on.

  ‘I can’t do this,’ she whispered, her eyes huge with worry.

  ‘Yes, you can.’ He put his index finger under her chin, tilted her face up and kissed her lips, before grabbing hold of her pom-pom hat and pulling it on her head. He opened the front door as she swapped her shoes for her snow boots and wrapped a scarf around her neck. ‘Come on.’

  The moonlight carved haunting shadows in the landscape but was bright enough to light the way to the lake. The night was quiet, only disturbed by sounds of their breathing and their boots crunching the icy snow. A silver ray caught the tip of a collapsed wall of the ruined abbey. Shadows seemed to move and thicken as they walked past. Cassie’s hand tensed and trembled, but he pushed on until they reached the shores of the lake.

  Wolf Tarn stood still and peaceful in front of them. Standing behind Cassie, Stefan enfolded her into his arms.

  ‘I wanted to tell you what I found out about Ruth and André.’

  ‘We didn’t need to come here. You could have told me in Belthorn… Let’s go back, before…’ She shuddered and he held her more tightly.

  ‘Nothing’s going to happen, Cassie. I do believe that you saw something here, ten years ago – that somehow the memory of a terrible event was etched onto the fabric of that night. I’m not sure what exactly it was, but I don’t want you to be scared any more.

  ‘When I was in Paris I asked a friend who works in the army records to do a bit of digging for me. André didn’t abandon Ruth. He died of tuberculosis in 1922, in a sanatorium in Haute-Savoie.’

  Cassie turned round to face him, slid her hands on his forearms, and looked up. Her eyes reflected the starry sky, and silver moonlight bathed her face. ‘In his last letter to Ruth, he mentioned being ill with the influenza,’ she said. ‘Perhaps it wasn’t the flu he was suffering from, but TB, that’s probably why he asked his sister to write to Ruth to break the relationship off.’

  ‘He knew there was little hope for him to recover, and he didn’t want to risk exposing Ruth to the deadly disease if she came over to France to nurse him.’

  Cassie’s eyes shone with tears. ‘He knew she would have come for him, so he pretended to be a cad and not to care for her. This is so sad… He must have died thinking she hated him for abandoning her. Do you think he knew she drowned herself because of him?’

  ‘I don’t think Ruth committed suicide,’ Stefan said then. ‘I think Gideon Hardy killed her.’ He told her what Miss Parker had related at the fair that afternoon.

  Cassie gasped in shock and started trembling in his arms again. ‘Do you think that’s what I saw that night? That somehow I witnessed Gideon Hardy murder Ruth… all those years ago?’

  He slid his hands up and down her back to keep her warm and stop her from shaking. ‘A few weeks ago, I would have said that it was nonsense. Now, knowing what we know about Ruth’s death, I’m not sure.’

  ‘What about the other one?’ she whispered. ‘The man hiding in the ruins of the abbey?’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s up to you to decide if it was a shadow, a trick of the moonlight, or…’

  ‘The Grey Friar,’ she finished, drawing in a shaky breath, and snuggling in his arms.

  ‘Let’s go back,’ he said after a while. ‘I think I’m ready for that champagne you promised earlier.’

  ‘There’s chocolate log for dessert,’ she said.

  He gave her a long, hot, leisurely kiss. ‘Forget about dessert. I have a much better idea.’

  Chapter Forty-One

  ‘Surprise!’

  ‘Mum! Keith! What are you doing here?’ Cassie dropped the bag full of Christmas presents to the floor and hurried across the living room and into her mother’s open arms.

  ‘Merry
Christmas, my darling,’ her mother said, enclosing her in a tight hug. ‘We thought we’d spend Christmas back here with you this year. Tim and Rachel knew we were coming, of course, but they were sworn to secrecy.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re here. This is the best surprise ever… the best Christmas ever!’ Cassie’s voice broke and her eyes filled with tears. ‘I don’t even know why I’m crying. It must be because I’m so happy.’ She gave her mother another hug, then snuggled in her step-dad’s arms, enjoying the feel of his solid, comforting embrace.

  ‘Merry Christmas, Cassie,’ he said. ‘I believe there’s been quite a lot of drama lately at Red Moss, but that it’s all ended well and the thief was arrested in the end.’

  ‘Yes, he was, and I am relieved it’s finally over. Patrick called earlier. He said that Darren was still in the hospital but was responding to treatment and should be all right… and when he comes out, he’ll be taken into custody. Most of the stuff recovered from the boot of his car was traced back to their legitimate owners… But best of all, I called at Bluebell Cottage before coming here and there were cards from Doris, Sylvia Gasby and Tabitha Sweeney wishing me a Merry Christmas and apologising for upsetting me. Sylvia even wrote that she would like me to clean for her again.’

  She let out a long sigh. ‘I am so glad people won’t be gossiping about me any longer… But enough about all that! When did you arrive?’

  ‘Yesterday evening,’ her mother replied.

  Turning to Stefan, she smiled. ‘I assume you’re Stefan – Louis’s hero?’

  He arched an eyebrow. ‘Hero?’

  She laughed. ‘Oh yes! If he is to be believed, Batman, Superman and all the superheroes from Avengers are nothing compared to you. He’s been full of your exploits and told us in great detail about your rescuing him from the cave. I am very pleased to meet you at last.’