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Authors: Emily Harvale

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BOOK: Carole Singer's Christmas
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An archway featured multi-coloured twinkling lights; large painted red ribbons encircled the two castle turrets on either side and warm golden lanterns hung in the painted windows. There was a toyshop window, open where the glass would have been, revealing several of the carved toys, books and stuffed animals which were also for sale, together with handmade Christmas stockings and ornaments of all shapes, sizes and colours.

At the end of the winding pathway through this magical forest was a large, plump ornamental Santa sitting beside a small red felt sack, decorated with silver ribbon and full of single sweets in silver wrappings that Carole had bought as a treat for the children.

Carole said that she thought the day’s success had more to do with Nick and his straight-forward yet clever sales technique: ‘I’m not going to sell you anything you’re not one hundred per cent happy with.’ 

In Nick’s mind that clearly meant not being pushy; to the customers it meant spending more money than anticipated as Nick would ask: ‘Are you really sure this is the tree you want?’ Or ‘Do you think you have enough decorations for a tree this size?’ This resulted in people deciding the tree they’d picked wasn’t big enough and that they needed to buy more decorations for their larger tree.

When Carole finally left at two o’clock having called Matilda at noon and asked her if she could stay with Mitsy, Nick had taken orders for more trees than he had in stock and there were several empty shelves which only that morning, had been full of boxes of lights and decorations. Not to mention the numerous sales of books, cards, toys and gifts; Christmas shopping madness it seemed, had firmly taken hold in Jutsdown and whether it was because of Carole’s artwork, Nick’s sales patter or the snowy, Christmassy weather, Carole and Nick neither knew, nor cared.

 

***

 

Nick was right about Bert Threadgold. When she got back to her gran’s cottage, she discovered he’d popped in to see Mitsy and asked her to ‘encourage’ Carole to help with the scenery.

‘I told him you were very busy, sweetheart but you know Bert. That man only hears what he wants to hear and if it isn’t a yes, then he keeps asking until he gets one.’

‘It’s okay, Gran. They’re doing 
A Christmas Carol
this year so I’ve got to help. Dad would want me to and I’m sure I’ll find the time although Nick did rather
gallantly
remind me that I also have a boyfriend and a fiancé to juggle!’

Mitsy nearly choked on her mouthful of tea. ‘Nick said that? Really? Did he sound annoyed when he said it?’

‘No. Just sarcastic. I’m not sure he has a very high opinion of me, to be honest but he did seem very pleased with what we did to Christmas Tree Land, so at least he likes my artwork.’

‘He’d have to be blind not to, sweetheart, and as for him not having a very high opinion of you, I’m not so sure about that. Are you going to the village hall this evening?’

‘Yes, if Matilda will come round and sit with you.’

‘Don’t worry about me, dear. You’ll only be a couple of hours. You can bring Nick back here with you and tell me all about it before he takes me up to bed.’

‘Okay. I’m going to get on with my commissions now. Then I must call Dom and see if he’s made it back safely from Manchester or whether he’s leaving it until tomorrow. I can’t believe where today has gone or that it’s the 1
st
of December. Just think, Gran, it’s only three weeks and a few days until Christmas Day. Oh, that reminds me, I must call Mum and tell her we won’t be going up there for the holidays. That’ll please her.’

‘Not as much as it’ll please her to hear that Sebastian’s back and he’s asked you to marry him – again. That’ll really be the icing on the cake. It’s probably a good thing Sarah did move all the way to Scotland. If she were within driving distance of that young man, he wouldn’t live to see next week, let alone Christmas Day.’

 

***

 

The scheduled ‘planning and rehearsal meeting’ for
A Christmas Carol
 went ahead in spite of the weather. Once the blizzard had stopped, the villagers seemed to go about their business as usual, unhampered by the deep snow. Not that the blizzard had actually stopped them – in fact, far from it.

Carole and Josie arrived at the village hall just as Nick pulled up in his Land Rover.

‘Hi Josie,’ he said, smiling at Carole, ‘I owe you a drink or something at the very least. I hear you helped make Christmas Tree Land the magical vision that it is.’

‘I did indeed,’ Josie replied. ‘I cut up the fake grass and covered it in fake snow. I wrapped up the fake presents ... and I made the tea. Carole, of course, just sat and doodled. You don’t owe me a thing. Call it repayment for the many hours of your time I’ve wasted, trying to find out how
not
to kill plants.’

‘Have you succeeded?’

‘No. Carole tells me today was a virtual sell-out. Will you be getting more trees in?’

‘It was. Thanks to all of you and yes, I shall. I’ve got a couple of hundred coming in that I’m supplying to my sister and brother-in-law’s TV production company and a few hundred more that I was planning to grow on but we’ll see.’

‘I didn’t know you had a sister,’ Josie remarked.

‘No. It seems to come as a surprise to everyone,’ he said, opening the door and letting them pass. ‘I’m beginning to get a bit paranoid about it.’

‘Perhaps if you weren’t so secretive about yourself, people wouldn’t be surprised,’ Josie added.

‘I’m not secretive, Josie. I’m an open book. You get what you see and you see what you get.’

‘Apart from your surname!’ Carole could not resist reminding him.

Nick’s eyes met hers briefly. ‘Apart from that. Oh look, your fiancé’s here. I must go and congratulate him–’

‘No!’ Carole interrupted but Nick was already heading towards Sebastian.

‘Didn’t you tell him that you haven’t said yes?’ Josie asked.

Carole sighed. ‘There didn’t seem to be much point. He clearly couldn’t care less.’

‘Oh well. I guess Seb will tell him. I suppose we’d better get stuck in to this musical. God, I really hope they don’t expect me to sing.’

‘I think they know better than that, Josie. And they won’t be asking me either!’

 

***

 

Whether Sebastian told Nick or not, Carole didn’t find out. After the meeting to discuss allocation of roles and who was doing what, Nick disappeared, saying simply that he assumed Sebastian’s dad would be giving her a lift in his Range Rover and that he’d pop round later to help with Mitsy.

She was even more disappointed to find that, after having to go out and rescue Arkenarten from Miss Peabody’s garden shed where he’d managed to get himself locked in, by the time she got back, Nick had been and gone and Mitsy was fast asleep in her own bed.

Carole was more than a little annoyed when she snuggled into bed some time later with Arkenarten curled up safely on her bed, not just because she hadn’t got a chance to talk to Nick but also because Miss Peabody had flatly refused to open her garden shed and let Arkenarten out unless Carole came to get him. ‘There was no way’ the old battleaxe had said that she was going to ‘let that wild thing out and be clawed to shreds as poor, dear Sebastian had been’.

Carole was sorely tempted to tear Miss Peabody to shreds herself – verbally, but she knew that would also end up being twisted and elaborated upon. There was quite enough gossip about her doing the rounds of the village as it was.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

‘I can’t believe it’s Friday already!’ Carole said, grabbing her bag from the floor and a slice of toast from the plate of several slices she’d brought into the study for her gran’s breakfast.

‘You should sit down and have a proper breakfast,’ Mitsy said, tutting.

‘I don’t have time, Gran. I’m late again and I promised Josie I’d pop in on my way to the station. Don’t forget, I’m going straight to the garden centre after my meeting and then on to the village hall. I’ll try to pop back at some stage today but it’s pretty hectic so I may not be able to.’

That was an understatement, Carole thought. She had no idea where the week had gone and what with her work, the garden centre and the Christmas musical, she was spending less and less time with her gran. Something had to give.

And today was going to be the worst day of all. She had a meeting with a client in Tunbridge Wells and although that was only about a half hour away by train, the snow from last Sunday’s blizzard had still not completely cleared and services were severely delayed. Only in England could it take five days to clear one lot of snowfall.

‘I’m really sorry about this, Gran. Next week will be better, I promise. Are you sure you’ll be okay?’

‘I’ll be fine, it’s you I’m worried about. You seem to be racing around all over the place. You’ll wear yourself out.’

‘It’s just been one of those weeks. I’ll be okay and I’ll take it easy this weekend when Dom’s here. You have remembered he’s coming down today, haven’t you?’

‘How could I forget, sweetheart?’

Carole detected the hint of coolness in her gran’s voice but she didn’t have time to defend Dominic now.

‘He’ll be here around eight-thirty. If I’m not back from the village hall by then, ask Matilda to let him in please. I’ve made the blue bedroom up for him. Right, I’m off. I’ll see you tonight. Have a good day with Matilda.’

Carole dashed out of the cottage and almost knocked Nick flying.

‘Where are you off to in such a hurry?’ he asked.

‘I told you yesterday. I’ve got a meeting with a client in Tunbridge Wells. I’ll see you later. I can’t stop. I’m late. Sorry.’ She raced past him and ran towards Josie’s.

‘Have a good day,’ he yelled.

She waved a hand in the air without looking back and cursed herself for oversleeping. If she’d got up at six as she’d planned, she wouldn’t have been in the shower when Nick had come round earlier and carried Mitsy downstairs. She’d hardly had five minutes alone with him all week and she was wondering if she were subconsciously trying to avoid him or if he were avoiding her – subconsciously or otherwise.

The last time they’d spoken properly was on Sunday night at the village hall, just before he’d gone to congratulate Sebastian. Since then, despite them often being in the same place at the same time, they’d been like ships in the night. On the few occasions they had started to have a conversation, someone or something had interrupted them and if they weren’t avoiding one another, then perhaps the universe was conspiring to keep them apart.

It was just as well really, Carole decided as she rang Josie’s doorbell a few minutes later. The less she saw of him, the less she had to deal with the very definite effect he had on her psyche. It was bad enough trying to sort out her feelings for Dom and Sebastian without adding unrequited love to the mix. And she was very sure that her love for him – if that was indeed what it was and not just lust – was definitely unrequited. 

‘I’m running late, Josie so I’ve only got ten minutes, unless you want to walk to the station with me and wait for my train.’

‘I’ll do that,’ Josie replied, grabbing her coat and shoving Carole away from the door. ‘You’ll need to sit down for what I’ve got to tell you and I can help you get on your train if the shock is too much for you.’

‘Oh my God, Josie! What the hell is it?’

‘Walk,’ Josie commanded, linking arms and propelling Carole forward. ‘I’ll tell you when we get to the station. We can grab a coffee because you’ll definitely need it.’

Carole tried to keep up with Josie’s frantic pace. ‘What’s it about? Are ... are you ill? You’re scaring me!’

‘It’s not about me. Well, I suppose it is in a way but it’s mainly about Sebastian’s dad.’

‘Sebastian’s dad? You mean Mr Jarvis?’

Josie stopped for just one second, gave Carole a look as if she were mad and then dashed onwards. ‘Of course I mean Mr Jarvis. How many dads do you think the man has?’

The station was in sight and the Platform Coffee Pot was empty.

‘Sit down,’ Josie said. ‘I’ll buy.’ She returned with two cappuccinos and sat opposite Carole. ‘Now, I don’t want you to tell anyone else about this. Okay? Except your gran, of course. She can keep a secret but on no account is Matilda to hear of it.’

Carole tutted. ‘As if I’d tell Matilda. Come on. What is it?’

‘He made a pass at me.’

Carole stared blankly at her friend. ‘Who made a pass at you?’

‘Carole! I’ve just told you. Sebastian’s dad.’

‘Mr Jarvis?’ Carole said in disbelief.

‘Oh for Heaven’s sake, Carole! Yes! Mr Bloody Jarvis.’

Carole burst out laughing. ‘When? You must have imagined it?’

‘Of course I didn’t imagine it! And why are you laughing?’

‘Because it must be a joke. Mr Jarvis wouldn’t do that.’

‘Well he did! He pinned me up against the piano and he asked if I’d like – and I quote, “me to tickle your ivories,” that is,
him
to tickle
my
ivories, if you see what I mean. And he certainly didn’t mean that he wanted to play the piano – the dirty old bugger!’

‘He was joking, Josie! He ... he must have been joking.’

‘He wasn’t, believe me. I should have guessed, I suppose. There’s always been a sort of harmless banter between us but on one or two occasions in the past he’s made a really lascivious remark. I just ignored them, thinking he’s got a weird sense of humour. How wrong was I!’

‘When ... when did this happen? Was it at the village hall? Last night, you mean.’

‘Yes and yes. You, Nick and Seb had gone and I stayed to work on that last song, the big finale, remember? Anyway, I thought I was the only one there so I had a little dance around and suddenly I heard clapping. It frightened the life out of me. I thought it was a serial killer or something.’

‘In Jutsdown? Really? You’re getting as bad as me.’

‘Serial killers live in villages too! That’s beside the point. I said I’d scream and he laughed and said he liked a woman who screamed. When I saw it was him, I relaxed ... although even then I think I knew something wasn’t quite right.’

BOOK: Carole Singer's Christmas
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