A Christmas Kiss Read online

  Knowing he couldn’t put it off any longer, Zander called his mother who, though disappointed, took the news much better than he’d expected. She tried very gently to talk him into in to changing his mind, but didn’t push when she realised she wasn’t going to persuade him. If he’d thought about it, why should she be surprised, when, thanks to Mel, he’d cancelled other things at the last minute. The last time sprang into his mind. The pair had been en-route to a Bonfire Night party at Toby and Jo’s when Mel had suddenly thrown a wobbler about not wanting to be there. She’d had an offer from her new friends and was kicking off about not being able to spend the evening with them, doing what she wanted.

  ‘You’re so selfish, Zander. Why do we always have to do things with your stupid family?’ she’d yelled at him, pouting like a spoilt child.

  ‘You could’ve said you didn’t want to go when I first mentioned it to you.’ She was unbelievable.

  ‘Well, I didn’t know about this party at the time, did I? She’d shaken her phone at him. ‘And it sounds amazing; much better than spending a boring evening at your brother’s.’

  The argument had got so heated, Zander had ended up turning the car round, dropping Mel off at her friend’s party and heading home; he hadn’t been in the right frame of mind to celebrate and didn’t want to bring the mood down at his brother and sister-in-law’s get-together. And, out of some misplaced loyalty to Mel, he didn’t want them to judge her if he’d turned up alone. Deep down, he knew they thought she wasn’t right for him, but good manners always prevailed and she was always made welcome whenever she deigned to accompany him on a visit. But Zander was growing tired of it.

  He ended the call with his mother with a sense of relief, and, before he knew it, his suitcase was on the back seat of his Jeep, his wellies were thrown in the footwell and Alf’s large, squishy bed was pushed into the roomy boot. Alf, seemingly up for the adventure, leapt up, wagging his tail and wearing an expression of ‘Ready when you are, Dad’.

  ‘Looks like you’re all fired up for a road trip, buddy.’ Zander laughed and rubbed Alf’s head. ‘We’ll have a great time, just you and me, won’t we? Who needs women?’ Alf’s tail beat faster, thudding against the back of the seats.

  As they pulled out of the drive and made their way along Milton Gardens, the prospect of spending Christmas tucked away in his cosy cottage in the middle of the North Yorkshire Moors suddenly made the world seem a much brighter place.

  6

  Livvie

  There was no way Livvie could stay at the flat over Christmas and there was definitely no way she could face going to Cheryl’s on Christmas day. There’d been radio silence from Donny since he’d stormed out a couple of hours earlier, but Livvie didn’t expect otherwise, though she did wonder if he’d be back later that night. He was unpredictable at the best of times, and no stranger to spending the night who-knew-where, offering only a vague excuse for his absence on his return the following day.

  What a mug I’ve been.

  The thought of seeing him again, of listening to his crap, made her stomach swirl with nausea. Livvie put her head in her hands, closed her eyes and tried to weigh up her options. It didn’t take long to realise that she had very few of those; there was no large welcoming extended family of cousins and aunts who could offer her a place to stay in her time of need. If she called Bry, she knew she’d say she could stay at her flat, but there’s no way Livvie wanted to intrude on her friend’s Christmas with Josh, or play goosegog for that matter.

  The urge to get away from it all started to gnaw at her. She needed to escape from here, escape from her judgemental family and her loser of an ex-boyfriend. The thought of going somewhere where nobody would know her was suddenly very appealing.

  The film she watched every Christmas Eve, “The Holiday” with Cameron Diaz and Jude Law popped into her mind; she loved the romantic idea of swapping your home for a quaint little cottage in the country. ‘That’s it!’ she said, sitting up straight. ‘I’ll book a holiday cottage for over Christmas.’

  Before she knew it, she’d booted up her laptop and googled “quaint country cottages”, ignoring the little voice at the back of her mind telling her she’d left it a bit late in the day. The first website on the list was for a company called exactly that: “Quaint Country Cottages”. It offered her a tiny glimmer of hope and she grabbed tight hold of it. ‘That sounds promising.’ She clicked on it, gasping as the screen began loading images of stunning cottages of all shapes and sizes. The blurb informed her it was a small, family run company that specialised in the area around the North Yorkshire Moors, which was, she reckoned, the perfect distance away from her flat; not too close and not too far.

  She began scrolling down and hadn’t got far when her eyes landed on the sweetest little thatched cottage she’d ever seen. It’s so beautiful, it’s bound to be fully booked.

  Livvie hovered the cursor over the calendar and clicked on that day’s date. ‘Oh!’ Her heart leapt; it was available! In fact, it was available right up to the week after the New Year, and even offered a reduction in the fee owing to a last-minute cancellation. Her mind scrambled over the information; that covered the time Blushing Brides was closed. It was perfect; fate was talking to her. Before she had chance to think about it, she hurried off in search of her purse and her bank card.

  Within minutes of her filling in her details and pressing send, a couple of emails had landed in her in-box. One was a booking confirmation, the other included directions, information about the cottage and the code for the key safe, which was apparently on the wall by the door. Livvie hastily printed everything off and raced to the bedroom to dig out her suitcase.

  Her heart rate had gone into over-drive and she was consumed by the urge to move quickly; she didn’t want to risk Donny coming home and find her halfway through packing. She’d had enough experience of him worming his way into her mind, talking her out of doing things he didn’t want her to do, and she knew he’d do his best to talk her out of this. Or worse, talk her in to telling him where she was going. She didn’t want to think about that.

  An image of his smug face loomed into her mind, firing up her anger towards him once more. She threw the suitcase on the bed and began hurling her clothes in with little concern for creases or space-saving, her heart pounding with every item.

  She was almost done when she heard the main entrance door of the building slam shut. She froze, her heart thudding even harder, nausea swirling in her stomach as she held her breath, listening intently. She sensed footsteps and the sound of movement coming up the stairs and only when they passed the door to the flat and she realised it was the tenant from the flat above could she breathe again. ‘Oh, my God, that was scary!’

  Quickly, she headed to the bathroom where she grabbed her toothbrush and cosmetics; she threw them into a washbag then scurried back to the bedroom where she stuffed them into her already bulging case, her pulse thrumming in her ears all the while.

  Next, she peeled off her work clothes, throwing them in the direction of the washing basket, before pulling on her jeans and a warm bottle green jumper dotted with cream stars. ‘Boots,’ she said aloud, hurrying to the cupboard by the door to the flat where she found her black biker boots.

  ‘Right, that’s it.’ She had one final check round, making sure she’d got everything she’d need, and before she knew it she was dragging her suitcase down the stairs and out into the street.

  It may have been a good idea to park around the corner from her flat when she was trying to catch Donny unawares, but her case weighed a ton and kept toppling to one side thanks to a wonky wheel. It made her wish she’d had the foresight to move her car once he’d gone. It didn’t help that every time she heard a car approaching, panic reared up inside her, fearful that it was Donny. And despite the sparkling frost, which made it slippery underfoot, she was sweating buckets.

  Livvie was almost at her car when the familiar sound of a rattly engine sent a chill down her spine. She g
lanced up to see a white van heading down the road, in her direction. Donny’s. ‘Shit!’ Quickly, she bobbed down beside the nearest car, holding her breath until he passed. Hearing the engine slow down as he pulled into the parking space on the drive, she moved as quickly as she could, dragging her case onto the road and squatting down in the gap between two cars. Not daring to move, she waited, the sound of her breath amplified in her ears. She heard the slam of his van door, the crunch of his shoes on the gravel, then the jangle of his keys as he fumbled for the lock. And he was whistling. After what happened, how could he be whistling? Bastard!

  Livvie waited to hear the main door of the flats close behind him before she tentatively stood up. She released a noisy sigh which billowed out in a mushroom of condensation in the chilly air. As she pulled her case onto the pavement, the dodgy wheel caught on the curb, causing it to fall against the car she’d been hiding behind. The impact set the vehicle’s alarm shrieking out into the darkness, sending a ginger tom cat racing from beneath it. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’ Livvie’s heart had never pounded so fast in her life. She mustered all of her strength, heaved her case onto the pavement and dragged it as quickly as she could, not daring to look back until she’d rounded the corner to where her little car was parked.

  ‘Oy, what the effing hell d’you think you’re doing?’ Donny’s voice carried down the road. Livvie froze, her breath caught in her chest.

  ‘S’alright, mate. It’s just me checking my car. I just saw a cat shoot off down the road; think it probably jumped on the bonnet, set the alarm off.’ She recognised the voice as belonging to their neighbour from five doors down.

  ‘Oh, righto, John. Just thought I’d better check; you never know these days.’

  ‘Aye, you’re right there.’

  ‘Well, see you later, then.’

  ‘Yep, see you later.’

  Livvie slowly released her breath; she was shaking as she very quietly opened the rear passenger door and hefted her case onto the back seat of her car, only daring to close it when she heard Donny retreat.

  It wasn’t until she was on the main road out of Rickelthorpe that she could relax. And, only when she felt she was safely out of Donny’s reach, did she pull into a little side road and tap the address of the holiday cottage into her sat nav.

  As she drove along, her tiny car eating up the miles, she was pleased to find that fear was slowly receding and excitement taking its place. Even if it meant she’d be spending Christmas day alone, Livvie had no doubt she’d made the right decision.

  7

  Livvie

  The journey to the moors had been fairly straightforward, with the main roads being well-gritted and frost-free. But it was a different matter once Livvie headed deeper into the countryside, with its narrow, twisting lanes, some with sheer drops down vertiginous valley sides. A few of the roads had been gritted by the local farmers, but that was patchy. To make matters worse, it had started to snow; sleet at first, but it had become increasingly heavy and the flakes had grown larger with every mile. Livvie was shocked at how quickly the road was disappearing under a thickening blanket of snow. She was unused to driving in such inhospitable conditions and, even though she was taking it slowly, her car still managed to skid around a bend, making her stomach clench and her knuckles blanch as she gripped tightly onto the steering wheel. She took a moment to steady her nerves, thankful that the roads were quiet and she’d managed to avoid colliding with a dry-stone wall that had loomed threateningly close before she’d ground to a halt.

  It didn’t take long for her to realise that the sat nav’s directions had become unhelpful and were sending her on a wild goose chase; her tyre marks had been covered by the snow, but a stone marker she could have sworn she’d seen twice before appeared on the roadside once more. ‘Bugger!’ She looked out onto the moor where tiny dots of light from farmhouses blinked back at her. Could Dale View Cottage be one of them? She had no idea, so she tucked her car into a pull-in place and reached for her road map.

  ‘Oh, why don’t they include the little roads on these things?’ she said to herself. As she was trying to make sense of it, she was startled by a loud scraping sound and the bright lights of a tractor illuminating the road. It came to a halt beside her. Feeling slightly anxious, Livvie lowered her side window as the driver leaned across and opened the door of his cab.

  ‘Woah!’ The bitingly cold wind slapped her in the face as it leapt into the warmth of her car, hurling snowflakes everywhere.

  ‘You okay?’ asked the tractor driver. Livvie noted he had a friendly face and a mass of dark curls escaping from the brim of his thick, woolly hat.

  ‘Erm, I’m a bit lost, actually.’ She wiped snow from her eyes.

  ‘Where do you need to be?’

  ‘Dale View Cottage; the address I’ve been given just says it’s on the Dale Road in Lytell Stangdale, which seems to have confused my sat nav and it’s started sending me round in circles.’

  The friendly face laughed, a twinkle in his eyes. ‘You’re not the first person to say that about sat nav round here. That’s Zander Gillespie’s holiday cottage you’re looking for. You need to be up along the road by Tinkel Top Farm, then past Fower Yatts Lane; it’s not far from here, but it can be tricky to find. I’m heading that way, so you can follow me while I clear the road ahead of you if you like?’

  ‘Oh, right. Okay.’ She paused for a moment, listening to her gut that was telling her she could trust him. A sudden memory of the said gut-feeling she had when she first met Donny flashed through her mind, telling her to steer well clear of him. Turned out it was right; shame she hadn’t listened to it then.

  ‘I’m Camm, by the way; I live at Withrin Hill Farm just over there.’ He nodded behind him. ‘And I’ve just taken on the contract with the local council to keep the roads clear of snow in the winter.’

  ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Camm. I’m Livvie.’

  ‘Right, Livvie.’ Camm looked around at the snow that had started falling much more heavily; large flakes were now swirling around in the wind that had been gradually gaining strength. ‘I think we’d best get you there before the drifting gets too bad. It’ll only take five or ten minutes. Stick in a low gear, no hard braking and you should be fine.’

  ‘Okay, thanks.’ She smiled, relief washing over her at hearing how close she was to the holiday cottage; she’d barely driven in snow before and had never had the need to fit winter tyres to her little car. She wound her window back up, thinking how nice it was to see a friendly face. The kindness of strangers, she mused; what a contrast to her family.

  Camm eased his tractor along the road, Livvie following slowly behind him. Her heart leapt into her mouth a couple of times when her tyres lost their grip on a stretch of road that was on a worryingly steep incline and spun alarmingly. Luckily, she’d managed to right herself and gripped onto her steering wheel for sheer life, her heart banging against her chest, until they’d reached the top. After that, they took a left and headed down a long, narrow track which led into nothing but inky darkness. It crossed her mind that she was in the middle of nowhere, following a total stranger to who-knew-where. For all she knew, he could be a crazed serial killer who would chop her up into hundreds of tiny pieces which wouldn’t be found until the snow had thawed in the spring. Then she remembered his warm smile and his kind eyes and told herself she was being ridiculous. Trust your instincts, she reminded herself.

  Before she knew it, the warm glow of lights from a cottage reached out onto the track. Camm turned right beyond the building, then reversed back out, turning the tractor so that it faced in the opposite direction. He tucked in and came to a halt, before climbing down from the cab and making his way over to her car. She opened her door and stepped out, the harsh wind catching in her throat and the icy snowflakes stinging her cheeks.

  ‘We’re here; Dale View Cottage.’ He nodded towards a long, low house that appeared to be huddling into the hillside. In the garden, a Christmas tree decorated wi
th fairy lights swayed in the wind, while another one twinkled from behind the glass of a mullioned window. ‘The area I’ve just cleared yon side of the house is the parking place; if you drive in there, it’ll get your car off the track.’

  ‘Oh, okay, thanks.’ She climbed back into her car and did as she was bid, glad to get back into the warmth.

  In a moment, Camm was standing beside her. ‘I’ll give you a hand with your bags if you like?’

  ‘Oh … I … er … I think I’ll be fine, thanks; I don’t have that much.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure. I could just carry them to the door and leave them there so you could take them inside yourself.’ He gave her a reassuring smile and she felt a pang of guilt, hoping she hadn’t made him feel that she doubted his intentions.

  ‘Actually, it would be really good if you could help.’ She remembered the troublesome wheel on her suitcase. ‘I honestly haven’t brought that much. I left in a bit of a hurry; it was a last minute booking and I wanted to get here before the snow arrived.’ The snow part might be a tiny white lie, but Livvie felt it added to her explanation of lack of luggage and stopped her having to explain any further; she didn’t want to look like a pathetic case.

  ‘Lucky you didn’t leave it any later. Here, let’s get this thing inside.’ Camm reached in and pulled out her suitcase. Livvie grabbed her bag and snatched her mobile phone from the seat beside her, following his large footprints to the cottage, her head bowed against the savage wind.

  He pushed open the wooden gate. ‘At least the path’s been gritted; Zander’s got a good team looking after this place,’ he said, stopping outside a low, wide front door that was sporting a large festive wreath; it too twinkled with fairy lights.