Page 90 of The Secret Mistletoe Promise
Imogen pushed open the door. ‘Hello. I made a banner.’Whyhad she admitted that?
Sophie frowned, but May gave her a hug. ‘A Christmas banner? Are you all right?’
‘Oh, God.’ She rubbed her eyes.
‘I wanted to talk to you after the rehearsal yesterday,’ Sophie said, ‘but I didn’t get a chance. That’s the problem when you host something like that – there’s always so much to do, people pulling you in every direction.’
‘It was very well set-up,’ Imogen said.
‘Apart from there being no bouncer on the door. It must have been a shock, your ex turning up like that.’
‘I didn’t realize he’d found out where I was. I think my mum knew all along, though.’
‘Did you manage to sort things out with him?’ May asked.
‘I had a very honest conversation, and it was better than doing it over FaceTime. I came to get some presents …’ She scanned the shop, seeing at least four notebooks she wanted to get Lucy, and a pen with a furry, pom-pom-like dog on the end of it. But would a present from her even be welcome any more?
‘Have a browse,’ Sophie said. ‘And if you want to talk?’
‘We’re always happy to talk,’ May confirmed.
‘Thanks.’ Imogen perused the shelves for exactly three seconds. ‘I have got so many things wrong over the last couple of months,’ she admitted. ‘I know I’ve made the right decision now, but I’m worried it’s too late.’
‘You know, you really don’t have to be perfect,’ May said.
‘And it’s so easy to overthink things,’ Sophie added. ‘It doesn’t sound like your situation in London was that great, and everyone makes mistakes when they’re stressed. You’ve spoken to Edmund now, and won’t your parents forgive you? Understand why you did it?’
‘Mum is Mum: she doesn’t really do forgiveness. And I’ve always thought things through, been so careful about everything, except for these last couple of months. It’s as if I’ve been letting the wind take me.’
‘You’ve been turning in the direction you want,’ May said with a shrug. ‘Of course that will feel strange, when you’ve had years of doing what you’resupposedto do. It’s as if you’re free-falling, and there’s no control.’
‘Exactly. I am always in control.’ Imogen thought of her beautiful edition ofNorthanger Abbey. She’d finished it that morning, but she’d been so distracted that she’d had to go back and reread the last two chapters. Catherine Morland said yes to everything. She followed her heart without stopping to think – mostly – about what was sensible. It got her into some scrapes, but she had ended up blissfully happy with Henry Tilney, who she’d liked from the very first time she saw him. ‘But if Catherine can do it …’
‘Catherine?’ Sophie looked confused, but May’s frown was decidedly half-hearted.
‘Nobody should let a book determine their whole life.’ Imogen laughed.
‘Debatable,’ Sophie murmured.
‘What really matters,’ May said, ‘is what makesyouhappy?’
An image popped into Imogen’s head of her, Dexter and Lucy, skating together on the ice rink, Wham! playing overthe speakers, the stars competing with the fairy lights, everything glittering and fresh. But she couldn’t mention Dexter, because what if Sophie and May were angry about how she’d treated him? Besides, a romantic gesture should be a surprise, and if she told them she was planning one – even if she didn’t yet knowwhatshe was planning, besides a banner that already seemed mediocre – then surely that would ruin it?
‘May’s right,’ Sophie said. ‘You have to stop making other people happy and listen to your own heart, or what’s the point? Now, what sort of thing are you looking for? I’ve done a whole range of notebooks for the new year, bold colours and a lot of foil. Let me show you.’
Imogen followed Sophie to a shelf, happy to surrender her thoughts to luxury stationery and the simple art of buying presents, at least for a little while. She couldn’t put the other things off for too long, though: she had a romantic gesture to finalize, and Christmas was only three days away.
She left the Stationery Emporium carrying a thick paper bag bulging with goodies. She wasn’t ready to go home yet, because she still hadn’t figured out what she was going to do about Dexter and Lucy.
A banner, she realized, as she passed Penny For Them – the doors open despite the frigid weather, the jingles of the arcade games bursting out onto the quiet street – was a stupid idea. She didn’t have the tools or the time to do it properly, and a love declaration made out of paper and Sharpie pens, pinned to the village hall in the midst of a snow flurry, would not show Dexter how much she cared about him. It would probably disintegrate before he even noticed it.
She was usually really good at planning, but then her PA job had never involved her heart or her entire future. She walked down to the promenade, enjoying the crunch of snow under her wellies. The sea looked almost black against the stark white of the snow-covered beach, but in the depths she could see slivers of teal and navy blue.
Up ahead, the coastal path called to her, but it was precarious at the best of times, and she didn’t know if there was black ice lurking beneath the packed snow. There were three figures whohadbraved it, who were walking along it towards her, and it didn’t take her long to realize it was Harry, his strides long and determined despite the snow, and Darkness and Terror.
‘Hello.’ He was pink-cheeked and out of breath. ‘Hi,’ Imogen said. ‘Lovely day for it.’
Harry rolled his eyes. ‘The dogs have the run of the estate, but the weather has unsettled them, so I thought I’d give them a good stride out through the village, take them around some familiar landmarks.’
