Page 80 of All We Want for Christmas
Mel stayed online, having taken her laptop inside for some shade. ‘Is it really cold there?’
‘What do you think? I’m still in bed under the duvet and it isn’t even properly light yet.’
‘Is there snow? I do miss the snow … I bet it looks wonderful there too. A snow-topped castle must be amazing. Turkey and all the trimmings isn’t quite the same when it’s thirty-five degrees. That’s why we’ve had prawns and salad. To tell you the truth, if Mum and Dad hadn’t decided to visit, I’d have rather liked to come home …’
Lara was taken aback. It was the first time in the three years since Mel had gone to Australia that she’d expressed any regrets. ‘Well, the fells are covered in snow but it’s only frosty down here … do you mean that about coming home?’
‘We might. Vince is coming round to the idea. His contract is ending this summer and so it will be decision time. I don’t want to move the kids once they start their next school.’ She smiled. ‘So you must come out here next year – I mean after Christmas. You promised, and you ought to visit us while you still can.’
The heavy hint wasn’t lost on Lara as her throat was fullof emotion. ‘I’m going to book a ticket as soon as the madness here is over. I promise.’
‘Come in the autumn – that’s March – when it cools down and the crowds have gone. And if there’s someone you want to bring with you, you’d both be welcome.’
‘Why would I? You’ve just seen me wake up in bed on my own.’
‘I can see you in bed on your ownnow,’ Mel replied, with a shrewd look. ‘I know you too well, Lara. If there was anyone you’d like to wake up with, you’d have made sure he wasn’t around.’
‘Well, there isn’t anyone I was planning to wake up with,’ she said.
‘Then there should be. I hope there will be. You deserve to find someone gorgeous and who isn’t a bastard after that prick Rob.’
‘Don’t hold back with the opinions,’ Lara said.
‘It’s the Aussie influence.’ She grinned.
Lara snorted. ‘You’ve always been outspoken. Don’t blame your friends and neighbours!’
They both laughed and Lara said, ‘I promise I’ll make my travel plans as soon as the Christmas programme here is over. I promise.’ She crossed her heart and ended the call.
It had been fun and lovely to see her family but, as she leaned back against the pillows, she felt a bit hollow. Tears formed in her eyes. She’d rarely felt more desolate and alone in her life: perhaps not since the days after she’d spilt with Rob and realised her pregnancy was over too soon.
She was no tragic case, in that she worked in her dreamjob in an amazing location. How many people could say that? She had a rich and fulfilling life and yet all that had happened in the past eighteen months had reminded her how much she valued family, and that, one day, she’d like to start one of her own. Was it selfish to want that for herself or even to hope for it with someone she respected and loved deeply – and who felt the same about her?
The clock on the castle tower chimed eight and the first hints of daylight found their way through the curtains. Lara opened them to find a crisp coating of frost on the shrubs outside and rooftops above. The lights were on in Flynn’s cottage, which meant he was already awake, perhaps messaging his Cornish family – or his new one.
She set her regrets aside for the time being. Mel was right about one thing: spending Christmas Day at a fairy-tale castle was a magical experience and, no matter what happened from now on, she was going to make the most of it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Flynn had been awake since 5 a.m. but his sleeplessness had nothing to do with wondering if Santa had been. He got up, made a strong coffee with the new machine that his parents had sent, and flicked through the various TV channels full of carol services and Christmas versions of kids’ cartoons until he wondered why he was wasting his time.
Then he dressed, had a shave, and hoped he didn’t look as knackered over WhatsApp as he had in the bathroom mirror.
Finally, he summoned up all his nerve and called his parents on the phone.
Their smiling faces greeted him, his mother in her dressing gown. ‘Wow, Flynn. This is early even for you.’
‘Ha ha. You know I’m used to waking up early.’
‘Not when you were a teenager.’ His mum chuckled. ‘It looks very dark up there.’
‘It is, but it’ll brighten up later and there’s snow on the hills. Where’s Dad?’
‘Steve!’ His mother called, over her shoulder. ‘It’s your son!’
At the mention of that one innocuous word – son – Flynn’s stomach lurched with so many emotions, he could hardly speak.
‘I’m coming.’ His father appeared wearing reindeer antlers with jingly bells on the tips.
