Page 35 of A Cornish Winter's Kiss

Emily had seen him arrive about five minutes before she was due to do her reading and had drained the glass of ice-cold Pinot Grigio that one of the bookshop staff had liberally topped up when they’d passed by. Maddie, the owner of Cecil’s Adventures, had gone all out to make it feel like a proper Christmas party, and Emily felt sure the attendees wouldn’t feel short-changed for the cost of their tickets, even if her reading turned out to be a total disaster. Either way, she was about to find out.

After Maddie had introduced her, Emily gave a short introduction to the story she’d be reading an extract of. She talked about how meeting and working with Sophia had changed her life, and that even if she hadn’t believed in the magic of chance meetings before then, she certainly would have done afterwards. It was the perfect setup for Sophia’s latest romance novel, where a Christmas gift delivered to the wrong house resulted in the kind of happily ever after Jude definitely wouldn’t have believed in. She was aware of him as she was speaking, on the right-hand side of the room, already gathering a crowd. She didn’t want to look at him, but somehow her eyes were drawntowards him against her will. She’d been expecting to see Jude speaking in hushed tones to the people around him, or signing books, anything so he didn’t have to listen to the utter twaddle he no doubt believed Sophia’s story to be. Except he wasn’t. He was looking straight at Emily, seemingly oblivious of the people around him. And in that moment, her nerves almost took over completely. Emily wanted to get off the raised platform at the front of the bookshop, or hide behind the huge cardboard cutout of the Gruffalo that was positioned to the side of her. Instead, she dropped her head and continued to read, letting herself get lost in the words Sophia had written and shutting out the rest of the world, even Jude. He’d been right about one thing – books could transport you to another time and another place; you just had to let them.

‘That was amazing, thank you so much, Emily.’ Maddie hugged her tightly after she’d finished the reading, and the audience’s response was every bit as enthusiastic. It was a relief, because they’d ended up being an odd mixture of diehard Sophia Wainwright fans and those who loved Jude Cavendish’s far grittier novels, and who’d made the effort to be there despite the very last-minute change of speaker. A smile tugged at the corner of Emily’s mouth as she thought about how Jude’s upcoming talk might be perceived by Sophia’s fans. God help him if he dared to say that love was an illusion. He’d probably get lynched.

Within minutes Emily had her answer. Maddie had introduced Jude and opened up the floor to the promised Q&A session. He’d had the audience in the palm of his hand, and he had a great line in self-depreciating humour. When an aspiring writer in the audience had asked him how to cope with being rejected, he’d told a story about using rejection emails from agents and publishers as target practice for Rufus’s toilet training when he was a puppy.

‘They thought my novel was only good for toilet paper; well, two can play at that game.’ He laughed then, the intensity in those blue eyes softening for a moment, and Emily could see the man he really was. It was easy to underestimate childhood trauma if you hadn’t been through it, but she could see what losing his mother and being rejected by his father and his stepmother had done to Jude. Despite the fact, he didn’t seem to want her support any more, she couldn’t help wishing there was something she could do.

‘Right, I think we’ve got time for one last question.’ As Maddie made the announcement, a collective moan went up from the audience. She gave an apologetic shrug and turned towards Jude. ‘Would you like to select someone to ask the last question?’

‘Actually, I’d like to ask the audience a question instead, if that’s okay?’ Jude widened his eyes, and Maddie nodded. ‘I know there are a mix of people here tonight, those who read my books and those who love Sophia’s novels, so I wanted to pose a question that might best be answered by having those two groups of people put their heads together. I’m working on some changes to the next DCI McGuigan novel, at the suggestion of my editor, and he wants to see McGuigan change as a result of falling in love. It’ll mean making sacrifices he’d never have thought possible. So I’d love to hear from the audience about the biggest sacrifice you’ve ever made for love, and whether you came to regret your decision.’

Emily wasn’t sure whether anyone would want to share that kind of information in a room full of strangers, but within moments the audience was sharing stories. There was a woman who’d donated her kidney to a sister she no longer spoke to, but who had no regrets because it meant her niece and nephew had experienced a far better childhood. A man who’d moved to a new country to be with a woman he loved, leaving behindeveryone else he cared about, only for that relationship to fall apart. Yet there was no regret from him either, because he’d later got together with the woman who’d become his wife, and they’d never have met if he’d still been on the other side of the world. There were a few people who had minor regrets, but most of the stories the audience shared had resulted in a positive impact in some way, despite the results not always being what they’d hoped for. It supported what Emily believed and nothing Jude could say would change that. Love wasn’t a transaction, because giving it didn’t mean you always got back what you wanted in return, but at the very least it could teach you something about yourself, and that thought was like a lightbulb moment.

Jude was fixated on love changing McGuigan, because suddenly everything was right in his personal life, but that storyline had resulted in a relationship he couldn’t believe in. What Jude hadn’t grasped was that McGuigan’s relationship didn’t have to be perfect; it didn’t even have to work, it just needed to show he was still capable of changing and evolving, and holding on to some kind of hope for a future that might be better. That was all Jude’s readers needed to keep investing in the story, and Emily was sure it would sit better with him than trying to shoehorn in the kind of happy ever after he might never be ready to believe in. She was certain now that she could help him finally finish his book; she just needed to persuade him to talk to her first.

‘Oh darling, you were brilliant!’ Emily’s mother smiled brightly as she walked over to where her parents were standing with their friends.

‘You really were.’ Her father pulled her into a hug. ‘And so was Jude. Oh, speak of the devil, here’s the man himself.’

Emily’s father pulled back to shake Jude’s hand.

‘I hope that’s not what I am, Richard, the devil.’ Jude smiled. ‘Although I know I pulled out of watchingElfwith you, so I probably do deserve that.’

‘As long as you join us forThe Muppet Christmas Carolon the twenty-fourth we’ll forgive you.’

‘I’m sure he has far better things to do than that, Dad.’ Emily couldn’t look at Jude, mortified at what he must think of her father’s suggestion. He happened to be at their house for one Christmas movie; that didn’t mean he wanted to sign up to the entirety of their annual tradition.

‘Something far better thanThe Muppet Christmas Carol? I highly doubt that.’ Her father shook his head, as if nothing could convince him that such a thing existed. ‘We were just saying how great you and Em were. We were bursting with pride watching the pair of you, weren’t we, Patz?’

Her dad was doing it again – making out Jude was suddenly a part of the family when they’d spent one night with him. Admittedly, it had been a night filled with laughter and the kind of conversation that had gone way beyond the superficial small talk they might have expected. Emily was beginning to suspect it was a superpower Jude had no idea he possessed, the ability to reveal just enough of himself to make people want to tell him all about their own lives and to hear more about his. Either way, it was clear her parents had taken Jude to their hearts and that they wanted to spend more time with him.

‘Emily was brilliant, wasn’t she?’ There was no suggestion in Jude’s voice that he was just being polite; he really sounded as if he meant it.

‘We’re biased of course, but we think so.’ Patsy beamed again. ‘Oh sorry, Jude, these are our friends Barry and Gwen.’

‘I love your books and you probably get sick of hearing this, but I’m a huge fan.’ Barry shook his hand with as much enthusiasm as his words conveyed.

‘There are some things a writer gets sick of hearing, but that’s definitely not one of them. Thanks so much.’ Jude smiled. ‘Great to meet you both.’

‘You might have met Gwen before actually, Jude.’ Patsy looked from him to Gwen and back again. It had taken less than two seconds, but the action seemed to plunge the whole world into slow motion as Emily suddenly realised what her mother was about to say. She wanted to tell her to stop talking, but her tongue seemed to have become glued to the roof of her mouth.

‘Oh really, where?’ Jude waited for the response, and it was Emily’s last chance to intervene and stop him from finding out just how much of his personal story she had shared with her mother. They’d talked about Emily contacting Gwen on his behalf, but he’d said he didn’t want that, so she hadn’t pursued it. Her mother had also felt it was best to leave things to the professionals, but she had a horrible feeling Patsy might have changed her mind after meeting Jude. He’d mentioned his adoption to Emily’s parents, and her mother hadn’t given away the fact she already knew. But he hadn’t told them where he was born, so he’d know that information could only have come from Emily. She’d decided not to tell her mother what the intermediary service had discovered, because it had felt like Jude’s story to share with whomever he chose. So her mum had no idea that the search for his biological mother had already hit a dead end, or how cut up Jude had been. Patsy would have been certain she was helping by mentioning it to Gwen, even though Jude hadn’t asked for her help. Like mother like daughter. Emily had to stop this conversation, but before she even opened her mouth to speak, Gwen had answered Jude’s question.

‘I worked at the cottage hospital near Port Tremellien where you were born, and I remember your mother.’ Her smile was warm, but for a moment Jude just stared at Gwen, as if she was speaking a language he didn’t understand. When he finally responded, his tone was tight.

‘You remember Ros?’

‘No – Patricia.’ As Gwen said the name, a series of emotions seemed to flit across Jude’s face. He didn’t say anything, but his expression somehow told the whole story – confusion, anger and sadness all competing to win the war. In the end it was Gwen who spoke first. ‘I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have just come out with it like that. There’s a reason I’ve got a reputation as a big mouth. It’s just that I used to work there and when Patsy told me that’s where you were born and that you’d been adopted, I knew it had to be you. By 1990, adoptions were few and far between, and there were only a handful of births happening in the cottage hospital each year by then. So it was a case that I’ve never forgotten.’

Jude still didn’t respond and Emily desperately wanted to tell him she was sorry and to try to explain why she’d spoken to her mother about him. But as she turned to look at him, a muscle was going in his cheek, and she wasn’t sure she could deal with what he might say to her in response.

‘Jude, sorry to drag you away, but there’s someone I want you to meet.’ Maddie suddenly appeared at his shoulder, her sing-song voice cutting through the tension that had felt as though it might suffocate Emily. ‘George is one of my best customers and he preorders all your books from the shop, so I promised him I’d introduce you.’

‘Great.’ Somehow, Jude managed to smile in response to Maddie, and turning back to the group, he offered an apology for his departure that anyone who hadn’t witnessed the last fewmoments would have been certain was genuine. ‘Sorry, you’ll have to excuse me.’

Jude’s smile was mask-like, but it was the look in his eyes that gave away what he was really feeling. It was almost as though there were subtitles telling Emily that not only was this conversation over, but so was every other conversation they might have had. And it was all her fault.

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