Chloe’s Cornish Christmas (The Blossomwood Bay #7)

Chapter Ten

The following day dawned with clear skies and a sprinkling of frost on the rolling Cornish countryside bestowed the landscape with an almost bewitching quality. Chloe felt that if she stared at the scene for long enough, she might see a platoon of pixies dancing in the woodland, or perhaps Christmas elves enjoying a break before the hard work of the festive season began in earnest.

However, while there were no elves, or fairies, or pixies partying, she did spot Nick, dressed in his over-sized wax jacket and a pair of chunky hiking boots, strolling through the orchard with Mitzy at his side. She watched him pause next to the dovecote and, as though sensing her gaze, glance up at the loft’s window and raise his hand in a cheerful greeting before giving her the universal sign for “want a coffee?” which she accepted with a thumbs up.

She showered quickly, did her best to tame her hair, then rummaged around in one of her battered suitcases for a suitable outfit, grinning when she found a scarlet Christmas jumper featuring a white furry snowdog with floppy ears and a gem-encrusted collar, surrounded by snowflakes that had been embroidered with silver thread.

It was fun, but not too over-the-top.

She knew she had another Christmas jumper somewhere – a lurid green one with row upon row of dancing fruit across the front – that Martha had given to her to wear at the annual competition her law firm held for Most Outrageous Christmas Jumper. The hotly anticipated contest was even more tenaciously fought than some of the court cases that were listed that week, probably because the prize was a golden trophy engraved with the winner’s name and dinner for two at The Ivy in Covent Garden.

Chloe’s heart ballooned with affection when Nick answered her knock on the door of the farmhouse and Mitzy greeted her with such unbridled delight. She made herself a promise that the moment she was settled into a new home, wherever that might be, she would ask Holly to help her find a canine friend of her own as soon as possible.

‘Morning. Did you sleep well?’

‘Really well, thanks.’

‘Great,’ said Nick, placing a mug of steaming coffee down in front of her before performing a double-take and rolling his eyes. ‘Loving today’s jumper selection.’

‘Thanks.’

Chloe saw that once again Nick had chosen to wear a thick cotton shirt in a green, blue and grey check that suited his dark blonde colouring and matched the black jeans and chunky hiking boots. However, as he kept running his finger around the collar and the belt around his waist was a little too big for him, she could sense that he wasn’t altogether at ease in the casual attire.

‘What?’

‘You look… uncomfortable.’

Nick sighed. ‘Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve had to raid my uncle’s wardrobe for more stuff. While I might give off a Canadian lumberjack kind of vibe in this shirt, it’s better than looking like a real idiot in a Paul Smith suit, Jermyn Street shirt and cufflinks, and hand stitched Italian loafers, which is all I brought with me.’

‘Why?’

Chloe thought she saw Nick squirm.

‘Because, apart from a pair of jeans and a range of cashmere jumpers in tastefully subdued colours, I don’t actually own any casual clothes.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. Believe it or not, I’ve spent every day of my life for the last twelve years in a suit and tie. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I have fifteen suits, twenty-one shirts – all from the same outfitters – and six pairs of identical shoes. When I lived in London, my friends and I would go out straight from work, so we had no opportunity, or desire, to change into “something more comfortable”. When I moved to Guildford, I promised myself I would extend my wardrobe, but I was so busy working I never got round to it.’

‘I have a spare Christmas jumper if you’d like to borrow it,’ she said, a playful smile stretching across her face.

Nick turned his lips upside down. ‘Not going to happen.’

‘Well, I’m sure your aunt won’t mind you borrowing a couple of your uncle’s shirts.’

‘Talking of my aunt, I tried to call her earlier, but she didn’t pick up. By my calculation, she should have landed in Sydney a couple of hours ago. I suppose she could be having an issue with her phone, though. She was a bit vague when I asked her about roaming charges and SIM cards on our way up to the airport. Anyway, I left her a message asking her to give me a call back.’

‘Did you mention the recipe?’

‘I did, and I made doubly sure she knew it was for Hannah and not for me!’ Nick laughed. ‘Okay, as we didn’t make it to the Dog everything looks wonderful.’

Chloe’s mouth watered when she took in the full English breakfast in front of her, and she spent the next twenty minutes enjoying the delicious food. When she had consumed her last morsel, she sat back in her chair and couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer.

‘Is it me or did I detect a frisson of disapproval in Liz’s demeanour?’

‘I’m sorry about that.’

‘What’s going on?’

Nick shrugged his shoulders. ‘She’s my aunt’s best friend. They’ve known each other since they were teenagers, and they know everything there is to know about each other. My aunt was by Liz’s side when she lost her sister in a dreadful drowning accident twenty years ago, and I’ve no doubt my aunt has shared her own intimate secrets, too. Together with Fran, they form a formidable trio who’ve made it their mission to ensure the community remains strong and prosperous in whatever way they can.’

‘So why the disapproval?’

Nick sighed. ‘I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t been down to Cornwall for… well, for quite a few years. I didn’t intend it to happen, but life just seems to rush on by, and before you know it, seven or eight years have passed, and you still haven’t found a space in your schedule to make that trip. You vow to put that right, but then something else comes along to steal your time and… well, you know how it is. However, I did make sure I had dinner with my aunt and uncle whenever they were in London visiting my uncle’s former partners at the architect’s practice he used to own, so what’s the point in me travelling down to Cornwall?’

‘But it’s beautiful here,’ said Chloe, turning to stare out of the window. ‘There’s something about this village and the surrounding countryside that soothes the soul, a place where we can recharge our batteries, reacquaint ourselves with the things that bring us joy, things that connect us to the land and to each other.’

‘And therein lies the problem.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I prefer the anonymity a big city like London offers. I don’t want everyone knowing my business and gossiping about it with their friends, their colleagues or their neighbours.’ Nick couldn’t help casting a glance to where Liz was laughing at something one of the cyclists had said. ‘I don’t mind coming down here for a few weeks to help out my aunt, but living in a place like Perrinsby would be my worst nightmare.’

‘Surely not.’

‘You’ve seen what happens. We’ve only been here for a couple of days and already we’ve been persuaded to join in with a whole host of community activities, which now includes a tree-decorating competition. I mean, where do we start with that? Thank goodness Joe warned us in advance about avoiding the subject of the pantomime, otherwise I would have walked right into that trap when I mentioned the cocktail-making event, and I really don’t want…’

‘What?’

‘Hey, guys, how was your brunch?’

‘Fabulous, thanks,’ said Chloe, smiling at Liz as she collected their empty plates. ‘I really enjoyed the—’

‘So, can either of you act?’

Chloe saw Nick’s face lose a little of its colour and she decided to come to his rescue, just as he’d come to hers with Joe, but in a slightly different way. Not everyone enjoyed standing on a stage with a hundred pairs of eyes scrutinising their every move, hanging on every word that was uttered.

‘Sorry, Liz, we—’

‘We’re still looking for someone to take on the role of the Wicked Witch of the Wood.’

‘I thought the pantomime was Goldilocks and the Three Bears ?’ she blurted before engaging her brain.

‘Ah, so Joe’s told you about it, has he? I thought he might. Oh, is that what the cocktail-making event is for? It’s really kind of you to support us in that way, Chloe. We’ve still got quite a few tickets left to sell for the Saturday night performance. We do two; a matinee on the Friday afternoon for the kids with a “contribute what you can” ticket price, and a show on Saturday night for everyone else.’

‘That’s a great idea,’ said Chloe.

‘Everyone in the village has a part to play, not just the actors. I’m the producer/director, as well as casting director, Fran’s in charge of costume, hair and makeup, Ryan from the art gallery over there is doing the set design, and my husband Gordon is in charge of props. So, if you don’t fancy a stage role, there are plenty of other jobs that need filling, like sound technician, Foley Artist, and we also need people to help Hannah out at the bar and refreshments stall.’

‘I’d love to join in, Liz, I really would,’ said Chloe, studiously avoiding looking in Nick’s direction. ‘But I’m only in the village for the next week at the most, which means I won’t be here for the pantomime. Sorry.’

‘Nick? What about you? Ruth says you’re here until new year?’

‘I am, but…’ When Nick caught the expression on Liz’s face he rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘Okay, okay. To be honest, I actually like the sound of being the pantomime’s DJ; I’ve wanted to give it a go for years.’

‘Sound technician! And you might as well add Foley Artist to your job description, too,’ said Liz, her lips twitching. ‘Oh, and I’ll have a word with Joe about timings.’

Before they could ask her to expand on what she meant by her last comment, Liz sailed off to serve the thirsty patrons who had been waiting patiently for her to return to her bartender duties. Chloe felt as though she had been swept up in a tornado of energy then deposited back down to earth with a bump, just as she had when she’d left the bookshop.

‘What did she mean about talking to Joe about timings?’

‘I’m… not sure.’

‘Oh my God, she’s going to ask him to delay the car repairs, isn’t she?’

‘Would that be such a bad thing?’

‘I…’ Chloe stopped.

She had only just arrived in Perrinsby, a place she hadn’t been to before and where she knew no one, and yet already she was being treated as though she was an integral part of the community. It was a feeling she had craved since her father had packed up their lives in Oxford and ushered them to London, and being honest, she wanted to enjoy every minute of her new-found sense of belonging.

‘No, I don’t suppose it would.’