Page 11 of The Merry Christmas Project

‘You haven’t lost your kids,’ she protested. ‘OK, you’re not married anymore, and I know you loved Lydia, but come on, don’t catastrophise, you’ll survive.’

‘Sorry, you’re right.’ He gave her a lopsided grin.

He loved this woman, she was irrepressible. She’d struggled with school and had left without many qualifications, but she’d been determined to work in television. After applying unsuccessfully dozens of times, she’d offered her services free of charge, which had eventually paid off. She started as a researcher and now presented her own show on a shopping channel.

‘No, I’m sorry,’ she said, looking humble. ‘I told you to talk and then shut you down.’

‘That’s OK,’ he nudged her arm. ‘I don’t bother talking about it much because it’s such a cliché : I put my business first. I thought working hard to provide for the family was what I was supposed to do. But I neglected them, I see that now.’

‘I’m a workaholic too,’ Hester admitted. ‘I wonder how much of that is how we were brought up. Dad thought any time not spent working was a waste.’

‘Mum wasn’t much better,’ Cole reminisced fondly. ‘If she wasn’t at work, she was at the allotment, and I can’t ever remember her sitting down without her hands being busy : knitting, darning, shelling peas. Dear old Mum.’

‘I miss her too.’ Hester gave him a sad smile.

She’d had a series of strokes just after their dad had retired , ending with a fatal one at the beginning of the previous year. Their father had since sold the family home and moved into a retirement complex in Wetherley.

‘But I am to blame,’ he insisted. ‘I didn’t see the signs; I didn’t listen to Lydia when she told me she was fed up living like a single parent, I said it wouldn’t be for much longer. I got that bit right : she left me and took the kids with her.’

Cole had begged her to give him another chance, but she’d refused. She loved him, she told him, but she wasn’t in love with him anymore ; she wanted to pursue her career again, not play second fiddle to a man. Six months later she’d filed for divorce and he hadn’t stood in her way ; it pained him to see it, but she’d blossomed without him. As far as he knew, she hadn’t dated anyone else yet: she seemed genuinely happy to be single again.

The irony wasn’t lost on him that he’d seen more of the children since Lydia left him than when they were all living under the same roof.

‘All marriages are different, some stay the course and some have a limited life. Maybe yours was always destined to be your first marriage and your forever partner is out there somewhere waiting for you. Besides, it takes two to make it work,’ said Hester loyally.

‘Maybe,’ said Cole, not wanting to lay the blame at Lydia’s feet. ‘But as far as a partner is concerned, I’ll take a rain check. There’s just no room in my schedule for another woman right now.’

‘Then your schedule needs looking at,’ she said with a grin as she got to her feet. ‘I’ve had all my single girlfriends asking about you since you moved in – don’t break their hearts.’

He shook his head, laughing, not believing that for a moment.

‘I thought we could get a Chinese takeaway tonight,’ she said, heading to the door. ‘If you fancy it ?’

‘Or how about I cook for us, as a thank you for putting up with me ? I can cook tacos, Harley’s favourite.’ He gave his sister a half smile. He’d love to be cooking an actual birthday dinner for his son, but this would be the next best thing.

Hester looked at him, understanding. She crossed the room and buried her head in Cole’s chest, her eyes shiny with tears. ‘That’s a lovely idea, we can send him pictures.’

‘What if the kids forget me ?’ Cole said.

‘They won’t ! They adore you,’ Hester said firmly. ‘Just make yourself available twenty-four-seven. It’s a digital world now, Cole, and kids are better at that than anyone. You can always send them videos, so they see you when they wake up. Read Freya a story at bedtime. Send them photos through the day so they know you’re thinking of them. And what’s to stop you jumping on a plane and visiting them whenever you like ?’

‘You’re right,’ he nodded, calculating that Freya’s bedtime would be during the early hours of the morning in the UK, but he could manage it once a week, maybe ? ‘But if I can get the new houses built and sold, I’ll be one step closer to having a house for myself, and a home for the kids to come back to. That’s more important than anything to me right now. A family home.’

Chapter 3

Merry

21 OCTOBER

Holly Cottage was beginning to feel like home. All my belongings were unpacked and the kitchen had become the headquarters of my Merry and Bright empire. Days had developed a bit of a routine : first a cup of tea at the kitchen table while scrolling through emails and orders on my phone, followed by a bath, breakfast and then down to business.

I had settled on a product range of three different scents : lemon, lime and rosemary; raspberry and black pepper; and peony and sandalwood, and I was producing them in two sizes of glass jars. I’d got proper logoed labels and I’d sorted out packaging. Daniel had helped me to set up an Etsy shop before I’d moved out and I was selling them through that and via Nell’s market stall. I had an Instagram page too and orders from there were taking off. Production was slow ; I was still learning how to scale up from being a hobbyist to a fully-fledged business, but it was immensely satisfying. And being busy kept me from dwelling on my newly-single status.

By mid-afternoon, I was so absorbed in my work, and singing along to the radio to fill the emptiness of the cottage, that it took me a while to hear the doorbell. I turned off the radio, pulled the pan of melting wax off the hob and hopped up the steps and along the hall to open the door.

A tall, thin woman in a long patchwork coat beamed at me as her small toffee-coloured dog jumped up with excitement. It was Astrid, my old art teacher, who over the years had become my mentor, surrogate auntie and one of my most favourite people all rolled into one. In fact, it was because of her that I lived in Wetherley. After she retired from the school in Bakewell where we’d met, she’d moved into a block of retirement flats near the centre of town. And when the job at Tractor World had come up, I’d decided it was too good an opportunity to miss, so I’d moved from Bakewell to Wetherley too. Apart from Nell, she was the nearest thing I had to family and we both enjoyed being close to each other.

‘Hello !’ I cried, delighted to see her. ‘What a lovely surprise !’