Page 105 of Not Just for Christmas

‘I wanted it to be a surprise.’ Dylan beamed proudly. ‘I’ve been stoking the fire since I arrived.’ He eased the cork out of the Champagne; there was a soft pop followed by the hiss of bubbles as he poured us both a glass. ‘It was quite a juggling act, getting the guys to light the stove and hoping I’d be back before the flames went out. Good job Sam has been teaching me how to look after a wood fire.’

I leaned back, loving the heat of the water and the contrast of the frosty night air on my cheeks. Above me the sky was a sweep of glittering stars so beautiful that I thought I might cry.

‘I feel like I’m in a photoshoot for some glamorous escape-from-it-all Airbnb.’ I sat up as a sudden memory resurfaced. ‘You know what this reminds me of? Soho Farmhouse. And that party for your decade in music.’

A laugh broke out of him as he climbed into the water beside me and handed me a glass. ‘Mission accomplished.’ He gave me a triumphant grin. ‘That was exactly the ambiance I wanted to recreate.’

Dylan’s record label had organised a gathering of his friends, family and colleagues at the exclusive Cotswolds retreat. It had been a weekend of rustic relaxation and laidback luxury like no other and I’d never forgotten it.

‘This has made Christmas really special.’ I felt my heart squeeze, touched that he’d gone to so much trouble.

‘I know that sometimes you feel trapped here and that you wish you could get away, and I know you can’t right now.’ His gentle eyes met mine. ‘You work so hard, Lucy, and there’s a list of never-ending chores. But I wanted you to see the farm as I do for once, as a place of beauty and peace, somewhere to escape to. Somewhere with possibilities and magic. I want you to picture a different Merrydown, that suits you.’

I nodded slowly. This man totally understood how I felt, knew what I needed. You’re not alone, you’ve got me, he’d said. I could see now how much he cared. I should have been braver, told him that he had me too before it was too late.

‘It’s working.’ I smiled at him. ‘Merrydown is beautiful, I’ve been so busy just surviving that I haven’t given myself a chance to stand back and think about what might be, rather than what simply is. But you have made me realise that it’s OK to make changes, make things work for me rather than just carry on as before, when Jack was here.

‘I just …’ I just wish I didn’t have to do them alone. I shook my head, the words lodged in my throat. It wasn’t fair of me to put that burden on him.

‘So you think you’ll go ahead with the barn renovations?’ His eyes scanned mine.

‘I think I will.’ I took in a deep breath, feeling brave. ‘And something else you said gave me an idea. I’m going to sell the herd and stop dairy farming. I’m not going to get rid of the milking parlour, it will still look like a farm, just not a working one. If Sam wants to farm when he’s older it won’t take too much to convert it back. And in the meantime I can run a holiday business here, which is something I’m far better suited to.’

When I looked across at Dylan he was gazing at me softly, his expression unreadable.

‘That’s fantastic. To you,’ he murmured, touching his glass with a tiny clink to mine. ‘And to making Merrydown your happy place.’

My heart twisted painfully, wishing things had worked out differently and we were toasting our happy place instead. I raised my glass to his a second time.

‘And to Star Quality US,’ I said thickly, ‘and their new head judge.’

‘Cheers to them.’ Dylan laughed. ‘Whoever it may be.’

I blinked at him through the steam. ‘But it’s you. Superstar Dylan Wilde.’

‘No, it’s not.’ He turned sideways, rested his arm on the side of the tub, his gaze intense. ‘Lucy, you did listen to the whole interview, right?’

I shook my head slowly. ‘Sam and I listened in the car until the part when the presenter read out the press release then he got upset, so I turned it off.’

‘Upset?’ Dylan’s brow furrowed. ‘Why?’

‘He said that he wanted you to stay forever, not just for Christmas, and realised that you weren’t going to.’ I sipped my Champagne, not meeting his eye. Sam might have been the one to say those words, but I felt the same.

‘And what did you tell him?’ he asked.

I shrugged. ‘That you would love to, but that your—’

‘No,’ he interrupted, touching a fingertip to my bare shoulder. ‘There is no but. The rest of the interview went a little differently. Wait, I can play it for you.’

I stared at him, confused, as he handed me his glass and reached out from the hot tub to where he’d left his phone. He searched for yesterday’s radio show on catch-up and played me the whole thing. Second time round I heard it: his hesitation and surprise when Melody read out the press statement. And then I heard the edge in his voice as he spoke again.

Before this goes any further, I gotta tell you, there’s been a mistake. Dylan’s voice was firm. I’m not going to be a part of that show. In fact, I have no plans to spend much time in the US next year at all. I’m sorry, folks, the press statement is incorrect.

Gosh, said Melody, your fans are going to be disappointed.

I’m not deserting my fans, he replied. I’m still going to be making music, I’ll always do that. My career has taken priority over everything for the last twenty years, but things have changed for me recently. It sounds like a great show, but I’ve realised that there’s more to life than working all the time, so I’m going to take some time out, make some changes and focus on the people I love most in the world, starting at Christmas time. I hope my fans will be happy for me.

I’m sure they will, said Melody, So tomorrow is Christmas Eve, what does Christmas mean to a man who’s seen it all?