Page 106 of The Secret Christmas Bookshop
‘Give me half an hour,’ Harry rushed out. ‘I’ll send everyone back to their own homes. Fuck being community-minded on Christmas Day.’
Sophie laughed and leaned into him. ‘It’ll be worth the wait.’
‘God.’ Harry exhaled a harsh breath. ‘Today is going to be torture, isn’t it?’
‘Uncle Harry!’ Lucy squealed. ‘Aunty Sophie! Come and see what Santa bought me. It’s my favourite Romantasy trilogy – the special editions! Dad says I can read you all the first chapter before champagne.’
‘I said we’d ask everyone what they thought,’ Dexter corrected. ‘I didn’t say it was a done deal.’
‘But they’dloveit,’ Lucy protested. ‘That wasn’t just afriendly kiss, was it, with Harry and Sophie? It was aromantickiss, and these books arefullof romance.’
Dexter’s eyes went wide. ‘They are YA though, right? You told me they were YA.’
Lucy shrugged and looked away.
Fiona chortled. ‘Should have checked the small print.’
‘Where do you find small print on abook?’Dexter ran an anxious hand through his hair.
‘I’ll skim through them,’ Jazz said. ‘Tell you how bad the sex scenes are.’
Dexter groaned, and Ermin patted his shoulder. ‘Looks like I should open this bottle right about now.’
‘It’s not even nine o’clock in the morning,’ Fiona chided, but without much heat.
Sophie felt a rush of giddiness, ofrightness, so intense it almost knocked her backwards. She caught May’s eye and saw the same emotion reflected back at her. They swapped smiles, and Sophie mouthed, ‘Thank you.’ She would say it properly later, along with an apology for how she’d reacted over her gift: the gift that, if she was honest, had changed everything.
‘Sophie,’ Fiona said, ‘good to see you.’
‘It’s good to see you too. I have a whole lot to say to you, to apologize for.’
Fiona waved a dismissive hand. ‘Not now. All that matters is that you’re here, and it’s Christmas.’
‘Happy Christmas!’ Jazz shouted, flinging her arms to the sky, and a few rooks lifted out of the nearest tree, cawing as they flew off.
‘Happy Christmas,’ Sophie said, and was about to hug Fiona, when she felt a tug on her jeans. It was Felix, nibblingthe denim, wearing a blue and red knitted jumper with silver Christmas trees all over it.
‘Felix,’ Harry said wearily, ‘please at least wait until after the turkey before you start eating everyone’s clothes.’
‘Yes,’ Lucy added. ‘It’s not very nice to chew your guests’ trousers.’ She wagged her finger at the goat, who remained oblivious, nibbling away contentedly. Sophie didn’t have the heart to extract him.
Harry put his arm around Sophie’s shoulders and pulled her against him. ‘Sophie’s not a guest,’ he said, and it might have been her imagination, but she thought his eyes were a little too bright, his voice rough in a way it wasn’t usually. He gave her a slow, gentle smile that warmed her to her core and added, ‘she’s family.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
The fire was humming happily in the grate, four dogs laid out in front of it, along with a very sleepy goat, sated by a Christmas lunch of sprouts and potatoes, and the pocket of Fiona’s coat which he’d somehow got to without anyone noticing.
Christmas carols played quietly in the background, the beautiful strains of ‘Silent Night’accompanying their post-lunch chatter, after Lucy’s request to play the Michael Bublé Christmas album for the eighth time in a row had been vetoed. Now she sat on the sofa, the first book in her new trilogy open on her lap. Jazz had told Dexter that, from what she could see, it was definitely YA and the romance was firmly closed door.
Sophie was snuggled up against Harry, her socked feet on the coffee table, happily full of turkey, Christmas pudding and champagne, feeling more content than she could remember. Harry had told her he had a present to give her later, when everyone had gone, (‘Notthatkind ofpresent,’ he’d whispered, ‘or, notonlythat kind of present.’) and she had a wrapped parcel in her coat pocket: a pair of the beautiful gloves in buttery caramel suede from Fiona’s shop. She wanted to get Harry more than just that, but – she realized disbelievingly – she would have a whole lot of time, now, to buy him gifts.
Everyone had been delighted that she was staying, but none of Harry’s guests had seemed that surprised – certainly nowhere near as surprised as Harry – as if they’d all known something she didn’t about the power of Mistingham, or were simply confident that she’d realize, in time, that she was in the best place she could possibly be.
‘What are you doing with your notebooks?’ Birdie asked, cradling her cup of tea. She also had her feet on the table, and was wearing festive socks with little gold crackers on. Before she’d taken them off, Sophie had almost choked on her champagne when the older woman had swept back her purple witchy cloak to reveal a pair of luminous green Crocs.
‘I’m going to keep making and selling them,’ Sophie told her. ‘I did well in the run-up to Christmas, and now that I have a permanent home for them—’
‘And for you,’ Jazz pointed out.
