Page 38 of All We Want for Christmas
Lara spent ages leafing through the albums before she took them back. Although Fiona had said she could choose any costume she wanted, she was mindful of poor Tessa and didn’t want to pick anything too elaborate. That was pretty difficult, however, because the more she looked, the more she realised that the wealthy guests of the past had really been out to impress.
There were a few pictures of servants and locals, but they were in much plainer outfits that they’d clearly made themselves.
Most of the photos that had made the album were the poshos. There were peacock feathers, velvet cloaks, hilarious wigs, buckled shoes that had obviously been made purely for the occasion – and, yes, a sprinkling of codpieces worn by portly men with their hands on their hips, trying to channel their inner Henry VIII.
Yuck. Who would ever want to channel a psychopath, thought Lara, rapidly turning the page. What could she wear that would be simple, appropriate and, because she wasn’t immune to vanity, flattering? She wanted to look nice, not so much to make an entrance, but to feel confidentand not look ridiculous. Every time she wondered what Flynn would think of her being a shepherdess or in a crinoline, she dismissed the thought.
She should choose solely on what she’d feel comfortable in.
Even so … she half-wished he was here to give his opinion.
‘No. No!’ she said out loud, then started laughing.
In the end, she realised she’d returned time and again to a page with a group of people dressed in medieval costumes and an idea dropped into her mind with such a clang that she burst out with a ‘Yes!’
Flynn would be bound to ask what she was wearing. She was filled with childish glee. She wouldn’t tell him. Like Fiona, she’d be keeping it a secret until the night.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
On Sunday, Flynn grabbed the opportunity to have a few hours’ break from the Spectacular. Flynn had decided to go for a bike ride and then meet Harvey for Sunday lunch at a Lakeland pub.
After breakfast, he donned his leathers and set off. On this still, crisp winter day, there was no thrill like it and his spirits lifted as he leaned into the bends on the twisting roads and whizzed past snow-topped mountains on one side and mirrored lakes on the other.
The roar of the engine sounded like a symphony or poetry to him, not that he’d admit it to anyone but another biker.
They hadn’t had long to talk the other evening in town, so Harvey had suggested the lunch. By the time he reached the pub, nestled between Loweswater and Crummock Water, he felt more exhilarated than he had for a long time. His decision to move to Ravendale felt like fate.
He wondered if he would ever be able to persuade Lara to ride pillion with him. He’d thought there was no thrill like riding the Lakeland roads, but he was wrong, because if she was behind him, her arms around his waist, he’d think he’d gone to heaven.
It was difficult to miss Harvey, because he was six footfive – four inches taller than Flynn himself – and of Antiguan heritage. He played rugby in the winter and cricket for a village team in the summer. Harvey had a table by the window and already had a cappuccino in front of him. Vintage Christmas rock ‘n’ roll played over the speakers: Flynn supposed it made a change from the classical music at the gardens, which he had now heard approximately one hundred times.
Harv was occupying a settle at a table near the fire and got up when Flynn arrived. ‘Hello again,’ he said. ‘We must stop meeting like this. People will talk.’
Flynn laughed and pulled back the chair opposite. ‘Twice in three days. This must be a record.’
A waiter took their orders for a Guinness Zero and a Coke. Turkey was on offer, but Flynn was so maxed out with anything festive that he ordered roast beef. Harvey, a traditionalist, went for the turkey with all the trimmings.
‘I never asked you what you’re doing for Christmas Day,’ Harvey said.
‘Not much, I expect.’ Flynn had been wondering what Lara would be doing but wasn’t ready to mention her name to Harvey yet. ‘The Spectacular only closes for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day. It’s not really worth me making the journey south until the New Year.’
‘What will your mum and dad say about that?’ Harvey had met Flynn’s parents a few times when he’d visited Flynn in Cornwall.
‘They said they’ll miss me but they’ll have their hands full hosting my dad’s parents.’
‘Well, you’re welcome to come over to our place.’
‘Thanks,’ Flynn said. ‘Will Carmel mind an extra one for dinner?’
Harvey smiled. ‘It was Carmel who asked me to invite you.’
‘That was kind of her,’ Flynn said, feeling genuinely touched by his friends’ thoughtfulness. He wasn’t sure how to reply, however, mainly because he didn’t want to intrude on a special family occasion.
‘You don’t have to answer now, you can leave it as late as you want. I warn you that the house will be awash with wrapping paper and the kids will be hyper, but it might be more fun than sitting in your armchair in your cottage on your own.’
‘I’m sure it will be.’ Flynn laughed.
‘Then again,’ Harvey said with a sigh, ‘I might be desperate to swap places with you by the middle of the afternoon. You also might have other plans, of course.’
