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Authors: Emily Harvale

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BOOK: Carole Singer's Christmas
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‘I can wait half an hour,’ she said.

He ignored her, grabbed her hand and rather ungallantly dragged her into the kitchen. He soaked a piece of kitchen towel under a spluttering tap and gently wiped away the blood as he held her chin softly between his fingers.

Much to her surprise, she let him.

 

***

 

‘So,’ Nick said, sometime later when they were sitting in his office and drinking coffee, ‘didn’t you say that you came here to apologise or something?’

Carole was eyeing her coffee mug warily. Not because it was dirty; she’d found the washing up liquid and had washed both of the mugs, the spoons and even the kettle and the taps thoroughly before allowing Nick to make the coffee. It was because her tongue was still tender and she wondered if hot coffee might just make it worse.

‘Oh! I ... ah ... um–’

‘I think we came in on that note,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, it’s unnecessary. I was hurt though, I’ll admit. To know that anyone could think that I ... but then the fact is, you don’t know me from Adam, and unless Mitsy has told you as much about me as she has told me about you, you’re entitled to wonder what my motives are, I guess.’

‘Precisely! At last, someone who understands!’

‘It’s rather ironic that the
someone
is me,’ he said, lounging back in his chair and studying her face over the rim of his mug.

She met his eyes briefly then glanced away, shrugging her shoulders before her eyes shot back to his.

‘What do you mean, Gran’s told you about me? What ... what exactly
has
she told you?’

He met her gaze with a look of compassion and sat upright, leaning slightly towards her. She swallowed, fearing the worst.

‘She told me about your dad; about how hard your mum found it to cope after his death; about ... about her failed relationships and the constant moving. She told me about how brave you were and how you studied for your degree; started your own business and how you’ve now got a successful career as an illustrator and graphic designer. She told me about Sebastian and what that did to you; she–’

‘Okay!’ Carole snapped, banging her mug down on the desk. ‘I get the picture. She’s told you pretty much my entire life story! Though God alone knows why.’

She couldn’t stop the tears from trickling down her cheeks and she jumped to her feet and turned to leave.

‘Carole,’ he said, leaping from his chair and grabbing her arm. ‘Please don’t be upset by it. Mitsy is so proud of you and she loves you with all her heart. She gets pleasure out of talking about you and ...and I’m happy to listen. She doesn’t mean any harm by it, you know that and I can assure you, nothing she’s told me will ever go any further. I can promise you that.’

He handed her a tissue and she wiped her eyes. He was only inches from her and she could smell a faint scent of aftershave. She looked up and met his dark eyes.

‘Don’t worry,’ he continued, brushing a wayward lock of hair from her face, ‘your secrets are perfectly safe with me.’ He winked at her and grinned mischievously.

‘It seems I don’t have any secrets, whereas you on the other hand...’

He arched his brows. ‘I’m not sure I have that many. But ask me anything and I’ll tell you – with possibly one or two exceptions.’

She moved away from him, needing to put some space between herself and his undeniably tempting body as the close proximity was doing strange things to her temperature.

‘Okay. Well for a start you can tell me your surname.’

His eyes narrowed and he shifted uncomfortably. ‘Ah. Unfortunately, that’s one of the two things I’m not prepared to tell you – not because I have a dark history or anything but simply because, like yours does for you, my surname causes me great embarrassment. I will promise you this though. I’ll tell you on Christmas Eve.’

‘Why on Christmas Eve? Why not now?’

‘Two reasons. Firstly, by Christmas Eve we’ll both know one another a lot better and ... I won’t be so concerned about it, I hope. Secondly, that’s my birthday and birthdays are a great time for wishes and revelations.’

‘Really? Hmm. I don’t know ...’

‘Why? Because you think I’m hatching some sinister plan and by the time you find out my name and Google it, gaining access to my extensive criminal record, it’ll be too late? Let me just say this. Mitsy knows it and she understands. If surnames are really that important, ask her.’

‘I will,’ Carole said, sitting back down. ‘Why did you come to Jutsdown and where did you live before that?’

He slid his hands in his pockets, winced slightly and leant back against the wall.

‘God, that still hurts. Okay, I came to Jutsdown because my sister told me about this nursery. She works as a property finder for her and her husband’s TV production company and she happened to be driving through this village, saw the ‘For Sale’ sign and called me. She knew I wanted land to start my own garden centre and this of course, was perfect.’

‘You’ve got a sister?’

‘Yes. I’m not sure why that should be such a surprise. People do have siblings you know, even possible villains like me.’

‘I don’t. For some reason I just thought ... well, it doesn’t matter. Is she older or younger?’

‘The same age. Her name’s Mary and we’re twins, although not identical fortunately for her. She takes after Mum and I take after Dad. It’s good it wasn’t the other way around really. Anyway, she and Harry, that’s her husband, live in Epsom in Surrey.’

‘And your parents?’

He shook his head. ‘They’ve reverted to their twenties and are currently travelling the world spending all their retirement money but they too, have a house in Epsom. I’ve got to make a success of this place though because it looks as if Mary and I will be supporting them in their dotage.’ He grinned. ‘Next question.’

Carole was still getting her head around the fact that he had a family. She had no idea why but for some reason she had assumed that he was on his own and that was why he had latched on to her gran.

‘Wow! Um ... oh, you didn’t say where you lived before here.’

‘All over the place. I found it difficult to settle – oddly enough until I saw this place. This probably sounds silly but as soon as I set foot on this land, I knew this was where I’d spend the rest of my days. It felt ... as if I’d come home. As if it had been waiting for me. It was apparently for sale for several years until I came along. Another point in its favour – I got it for a good price. But to answer the question, I’ve lived in London, Surrey of course, the United States and Canada. I worked my way around both countries for a few years, oh and Italy many years ago but the less said about that the better.’

‘Misspent youth?’

‘Unrequited love.’

‘Now that I’ve got to hear about.’

‘Not much to tell. She was beautiful. I wasn’t. I had spots I seem to recall. Quite a lot of them actually.’

He shivered for effect and Carole burst out laughing.

‘I find that hard to believe,’ she said, scrutinising his clean-shaven, blemish free skin.

‘It’s true. I grew out of it, thank God. Although to be honest, I don’t think it was just the spots that put Lucia off. I was also stick thin and a bit of a wimp.’

‘Now I know you’re lying!’

‘I’m not. Honestly, I’m not. You can ask my sister when you meet her. It’s all true.’

‘When I meet her?’ The idea of that seemed strange to Carole.

‘Yep. She’ll be down sometime in the New Year. Assuming you’re still around here then.’

‘Gran said she’s invited you for Christmas dinner! Why aren’t you spending it with your family?’

He shrugged. ‘Mum and Dad will still be travelling. They’re not big on the whole Christmas thing and Mary and Harry are spending this Christmas in the States with Harry’s folks. Mary’s just found out that she’s expecting their first child and they want to tell the family the news in person, assuming everything’s okay. It’s early days yet and she’s superstitious about telling too many people too early. So it’s just me and Nicodemus this year.’

There were a hundred and one things Carole wanted to ask him. Things that were probably far more important than where he planned to spend Christmas but she was still coming to terms with seeing Nick in a family context and everything else just went out of her head.

‘I’d better go,’ she said suddenly. ‘Gran’s been left on her own for over an hour now.’

She headed towards the door, stopping to stroke Nicodemus on the way.

‘Does Nicodemus just sit in here and sleep while you work?’

‘No, sometimes he serves the customers but he’s not very good with the card machine. Cash, he’s fine with.’

Carole grinned. ‘He probably tells better jokes too.’

Nick grinned back. ‘That’s not difficult. Sometimes my neighbour, Albert looks after him. Albert’s elderly dog died just after we moved here so he loves having Nicodemus. Feel free to pop in anytime,’ he said, stepping aside to let her pass. ‘You’ll need to learn a few of the ropes before Monday if you’re still going to be taking over from Mitsy.’

‘Taking over from–?’

‘See you later. I’ve got to dash.’

A delivery lorry had pulled into the parking bay and Nick ran out to meet it before Carole had a chance to ask him what he meant. She considered waiting until he returned but two young lads cycled in and Nick waved them over. They were clearly
the staff
and what had been a relatively peaceful place just a few short minutes ago had now turned into a hive of activity. She decided she’d better get out quickly before she did get roped in to help.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

‘Did you apologise?’ Mitsy asked the moment Carole entered her bedroom. ‘Oh! Good heavens! What on earth has happened to you?’

For a split second, Carole was tempted to say that Nick did it – which in a way was true, but she could tell that her grandmother was genuinely concerned and this wasn’t the time to be facetious.

‘It was my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I tripped and fell in the garden centre. I’m fine though and so is Nick although we’re both a bit battered and bruised. When I fell, I’m afraid I knocked him down too.’

To Carole’s surprise, her gran sniggered.

‘It’s not funny, Gran. That place is an absolute death trap not to mention it’s filthy.’

Mitsy tutted good-naturedly. ‘It’s a garden centre, dear. It can’t possibly be pristine. As for it being a death trap, I’ve managed perfectly well without tripping over anything, almost every day for the last few months, and my eyesight is nowhere near as good as yours.’

Carole’s head shot up at that. ‘Almost every day for ...! Gran, I really think it’s time you and I had a serious talk. Okay, I’ll admit that I may have got the wrong impression of Nick but how exactly did you meet him and why are you apparently working for him? Mr Jarvis told me that you fell off a ladder there and that’s how you broke your leg. No wonder you didn’t want to tell me. What were you doing up a ladder at your age?’

‘When did you see Justin Jarvis?’

‘This morning on my way to the garden centre. I bumped into Seb and ...’

‘Oh really? So you’ve talked to Sebastian, have you? And what did he have to say for himself?’

‘I’ll tell you about that later, Gran. I want to hear about you and your connection with the garden centre first.’

‘Well, you’d better go and have a shower then and make us both a nice cup of tea. I hate to say this, sweetheart, but you are absolutely filthy and there seems to be something green in your hair.’

 

***

 

‘Nick rang when you were in the shower, sweetheart,’ Mitsy said when Carole took a tray of tea and biscuits into her grandmother’s room forty minutes later. ‘He wanted to check that you were okay. He’s such a thoughtful young man and he said that your apology was one he’ll remember for a long time to come. I’m so pleased that you were nice to him. You’ll soon see just how mistaken you were about him.’

‘What else did he say?’ Carole asked inquisitively. Nick was clearly as good at bending the truth as she was but she was rather glad that he had.

‘He’s going to pop round at lunchtime and carry me downstairs, if that’s all right with you. I don’t want to be cooped up in here all day.’

‘That’s absolutely fine with me. Would you mind if I did a little bit of work this afternoon then? I’ve got one or two things on pretty tight deadlines and if you’re happy to read or watch TV, I can get on with those.’

‘Absolutely, dear. Don’t you worry about me. I’ll be fine.’

‘Excellent. Well, let’s hear the whole story then, Gran. Let’s start with how and when you met him and work our way forwards from there, shall we?’

Mitsy sighed. ‘Sometimes sweetheart, you’re like a dog with a bone. You just won’t let go, will you?’ She smiled and patted one side of her bed. ‘Come and sit up here with me and I’ll tell you all about it.’

Carole curled up beside her and tucked one arm in hers.

‘I think it was fate,’ Mitsy said. ‘I hadn’t been to the old plant nursery in years but for some reason when I was out for one of my daily walks – it must have been around Easter time I suppose, I found myself standing at the gates. One of them was open so I wandered in and Nicodemus came bounding up to me. I didn’t know his name then of course, but he was such a beautiful dog and I bent down to pet him.’

‘I met him today. He is certainly gorgeous and very friendly.’

‘Yes. Well, he was rather exuberant that day. Nick had spotted me and called Nicodemus away but it was my own silly fault, I lost my balance and toppled over. Don’t worry, I wasn’t hurt and Nick rushed to my aid. Despite assuring him I was fine, he wouldn’t hear of letting me come home on my own and when we got here, he insisted on making me a cup of tea. We got chatting and he told me he was hoping to buy the nursery.’

‘Gran! You shouldn’t have let a complete stranger into your house.’

‘Oh Carole. Don’t start that nonsense again. I’ve always been an excellent judge of character and I could tell immediately that Nick was an absolute gentleman. It was one of the most pleasant afternoons I’d spent for a very long time, to be honest. And we really hit it off. I told him about the way it used to be and he told me his visions for the future. Not only did I like him, I liked his plans and I asked if he’d show me his drawings of the scheme. One thing led to another. He made the most delicious dinner for us both and–’

BOOK: Carole Singer's Christmas
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