Page 41 of Hope and Hot Chocolate on Mistletoe Lane

Paul hadn’t wanted to talk about what had happened and that had been a relief. Although a niggle in the back of mind told me I couldn’t keep putting off tough conversations for the rest of my life. But I’d just had one with my mother. I couldn’t face the monumental one with Paul. My life wasn’t in Birchbrook but his was. Yesterday had to be a one-off. It was probably because we’d felt all nostalgic, thinking about us being teenagers who’d fancied each other and not been able to tell the other one. I knew deep down I’d more than just fancied Paul back then, but I ignored the fact because I didn’t want any of those feelings to come back to the surface. I’d buried them ten years ago.

When we were in his bed, it had felt like we were in this bubble of two, like the whole world outside stopped for those minutes we were curled up together, looking into each other’s eyes. And suddenly, I wasn’t sure that those feelings were completely buried.

‘Earth to Holly!’ Willow cried, breaking into my thoughts. ‘Shall we use red and gold wrapping?’ By the look on her face, that wasn’t the first time she had asked that question.

I forced myself to concentrate and stop thinking about Paul. I wasn’t a lovesick teenager; I was a woman who needed to save her business. I nodded. ‘Yes, that will match the sleigh perfectly,’ I told her, hoping I sounded confident and present. We had moved the sleigh she had made into one of the polytunnels. She’d done an amazing job turning an old tractor into a red and gold sleigh with MDF and paint. We started wrapping up cardboard boxes to look like Christmas presents to pile up in it. We’d tied the four light-up reindeers we’d bought at the garden centre to it and arranged a couple of Christmas trees nearby. Next to Santa’s post office, it was the perfect finale to the Christmas trail.

My mum phoned as we worked to say that she had found four other local crafters who were keen to have a stall for December. Dylan took over arranging that with her.

‘We’re getting there,’ Willow said as she wiped her eyebrow and looked at the set-up we’d created. ‘God, Holly, I was so worried we couldn’t pull it together for December but maybe we can do it.’

‘We definitely can. It’s looking great. And once the ice rink comes and we have the café van, it will all come together. We now need to work on the trail from the tunnels to the ice rink and put lights on the birch trees. We need the whole area to feel like a winter wonderland. Give the wow factor as people drive into the farm. But these tunnels are almost there.’ I looked around, my hands on my hips. ‘I think the local paper should give us a good write-up.’

‘I think so too. They know we aren’t open until the first of December. I’ll tell Karl we’ll keep a few tickets each day for people who want to just turn up but we’ll make sure the article encourages everyone to pre-order. We need to make back the outlay we’ve spent on all of this. People need to remember the name Wynter Wishes too, of course, and use you for all their events!’ She smiled at me.

‘That would be great,’ I said, wishing she knew how much I was relying on that but I didn’t want to tell her in case it shook her faith in me at all.

We heard a car coming up the driveway then, and looked at one another.

‘Karl’s here,’ Willow said, taking a visibly deep breath.

‘We’ve got this,’ I said, always trying to be calm and confident for clients. Inside though, my heart was pounding and there was bead of sweat on my lower back. I knew how much was riding on us getting good publicity from the local paper. Yes, Willow had sold some advance tickets but not enough to break even, let alone make a profit. Plus, if Karl didn’t give it the thumbs up, people might want refunds on the tickets that had been sold.

So, nervously, we both left the polytunnels to go outside and greet the reporter.

* * *

‘How’s it going?’

I answered Georgia’s FaceTime call as I was getting ready that evening. I had tried on two outfits and discarded them on the bed and was now staring into the full-length mirror on my third attempt.

‘Do I look okay?’ I asked, propping my phone up on the bedside table and standing back so she could see my outfit.

Georgia squinted to see through the phone screen. ‘What’s the occasion?’

‘The café in town is reopening after it was flooded in a storm.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘That doesn’t sound like an occasion that would make Holly Wynter worry about her outfit. Spill it.’

‘What?’ I asked defensively, looking back at the mirror to avoid her gaze. ‘I just want to look… nice.’

‘Well, you look gorgeous as always; those jeans are fab and I like the V-neck jumper and boots. It’s very classic, very you. I’d add your chucky gold hoop earrings and wear your black wool coat to dress it all up a bit. Plus some red lipstick.’

I turned and smiled. ‘Thanks, I’ll do that. I just want to look cute but not like I tried to look cute.’

‘Something we all aspire to,’ she replied with a grin. She tilted her head as I put the hoop earrings on that she suggested I wear. ‘Who are you trying not to look cute for? And don’t tell me it’s just for the town you left years ago.’

‘Fine. There is someone specific, I guess. But it’s nothing,’ I said, trying to sound casual but weirdly, I did feel a bit nervous at seeing Paul. We hadn’t contacted each other since I left the café late yesterday afternoon. We’d finished making it all festive and then Paul had given me a kiss on the cheek, which had left me feeling a bit deflated as I went back to the farmhouse. He’d said he’d see me for the café relaunch, but that had been it. I hadn’t kissed him either so I don’t know why I was annoyed he hadn’t.

‘Something happened with Paul,’ I added in a rush, avoiding her eyes again. I hadn’t told anyone and I doubted Paul had either. It made it real to tell Georgia now. ‘We kissed the other day. Then yesterday, we kissed again. And then we went to his flat and slept together,’ I blurted out.

‘Holly!’ she cried. ‘Oh my God.’ She clapped her hands. ‘I need all the details.’

‘I have to leave in fifteen minutes…’

‘Spill it, missy.’

‘Missy?’ I had to laugh at that but I dutifully perched on the edge of the bed, picked up the phone and told Georgia what had happened with Paul. ‘I feel all jittery about seeing him at the café tonight, which is just weird. He used to be my best friend!’