The Christmas Promise Read online

  Wendy chimed back in. ‘We thought we could charge people two pounds to take a selfie with Ruby in one of your hats. And even Carola won’t have organised anything so good as a real live WAG and a hat show.’

  As Ava was looking bewildered at this last comment, Sam enlightened her. ‘Carola’s the formidable woman who organises everything at the village hall. It’s a bit of a sport in the village to one-up her but don’t let yourself be cajoled into anything if it’s interfering with your Sunday plans. I’ll survive driving home to London tonight.’

  For several seconds Ava’s gaze locked with his, her eyes huge. He caught a tiny sigh, then she fixed a smile in place and turned back to the waiting women. ‘How can I resist the opportunity to have Ruby Glennister modelling for me?’

  By reflex, Sam found himself switching to work mode. ‘You’re right, it’s an opportunity. It’s a shame that it gives us no time to get the word out though.’

  ‘Who to?’ Ava looked from him to Ruby.

  ‘The world, the press. I can use this to raise Ruby’s profile as well as raise money. The fact that the event’s so small could be a hook in itself. I’ll take a video and photos, and it can be “leaked” on Monday that Ruby did all this for a woman she’d only just met, just because she admired the causes. It’s a chance to present a client in a positive light.’

  Ruby clapped her hands. ‘Blimey, you never miss a trick, do you, Sam Jermyn? I can see what we’re paying you for.’ With an enthusiastic hug for Sam, then no-less-enthusiastic hugs all round, Ruby tottered off to where Tyrone and Chilly were waiting pointedly by the door.

  Ava nodded slowly. ‘I can see what she and Tyrone pay you for, too.’

  ‘That’s our boy. Always switched on.’ Wendy patted Sam’s cheek then, wreathed in triumphant smiles, she and Vanessa scurried off to collect their coats.

  Sam couldn’t resist a last tease. ‘Does it matter that they only have one spare bed and their fat silly Labradors sleep on the couch?’ Then, hastily, as Ava dropped a hatbox on her foot, ‘I’m joking! You’ll have my old room and I’ll sleep on the sofabed. And I’ll make sure Mum and Aunt Van know that our sleeping arrangements are our business, OK?’

  Instantly, her expression lightened. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You don’t have to look so pleased about it.’ He deliberately put himself in her path as she stooped to retrieve the fallen hatbox. ‘Don’t you even admit to a frisson of excitement when they mentioned us sleeping together?’

  Her answer was a frown. ‘Like I’d do that to poor Izz.’ She made to push her way around him.

  He side-stepped, deliberately misunderstanding her. ‘It wouldn’t have to be at your place. I live alone.’

  She glared at him from under her brows. ‘I can see why.’

  He laughed and let her past. He wasn’t sure why he was baiting her. Yet he was. It was because she wasn’t following where he wanted to lead. Unslaked desire was a bitch.

  The night was starry. Sam had spent ten minutes de-icing the car and his hands hurt. When he was finally able to drive to the steps of the hotel he found Ava shivering beside a tower of hatboxes, huddled into her multi-coloured coat and her breath white on the air, only a few lights left on in the hall behind her. She shoved her phone away as he drew up.

  He hopped out of the car. ‘Sorry that took so long. The windscreen was frozen.’

  Ava tried to pick up a hatbox. ‘It’s OK.’ Her voice shook with cold.

  He took the box from her hands. ‘Get in the car and I’ll load up.’

  For once she didn’t argue, but trailed down the stone steps and around to the passenger door. He packed the boot quickly and they were soon purring down the steeply sloping drive.

  Ava yawned.

  ‘It’s only a ten-minute drive so you don’t have to stay awake long.’

  Obviously unwilling to accept his remark as the olive branch he’d intended, she sniffed ungraciously. ‘If I nodded off you might tell everyone you’d slept with me.’

  Snapping down the indicator and spinning the wheel to turn right out of the black metal gates and onto the lane to Middledip, he shot her a look. ‘I don’t pull those macho bullshit tricks! It makes the woman uncomfortable and makes me look like a prick. I think all I’ve ever indicated is that we ought to give each other a try. But you’ve conveyed your lack of interest so, fine. End of.’

  Silence.

  But slow realisation made his fingers begin to tighten on the steering wheel. ‘Shit,’ he swore softly. ‘I did act like a prick tonight. I let my frustration get the better of me.’ Remorse settled in his guts. ‘Really, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sure.’

  What did that mean? He drove through the darkness and glittering frost, kicking himself. Why had he said the stuff he had? It was so against his personal code. He wasn’t that guy. Usually. He’d been disappointed but that was no excuse to be a creep. ‘That reminds me. I’ve received a Facebook friend request from a Harvey Snaith. Looks like your ex.’

  Ava turned sharply in her seat. ‘Why would he do that? Did you accept him?’

  ‘I haven’t accepted him but I haven’t deleted the request, either. What would you like me to do?’

  ‘Delete.’ Ava groaned. ‘I’m sorry. I think I told him that you and Tod worked together.’

  Sam shrugged. ‘Then all he had to do was look on the agency website and match my picture to my name. Don’t worry about it. I’m fussy about who I accept on social media.’

  He tried to turn the conversation towards a happier path. ‘Tonight should help improve your finances.’

  ‘Yes.’ Then, as if realising that he was making an effort, ‘Thanks for the help you’ve given me in the shape of chauffeur/business guru. I appreciate it.’ Yet she sounded flat and dismal.

  He gave her a minute. Then tried again. ‘Are you OK, Ava?’

  To his horror, her voice began to tremble. ‘Oh no, don’t start being nice. Don’t make me remember how decent you are. Please. Don’t come on to me like you did tonight because I have too much stuff going on in my life to get involved with anyone. Harvey’s still being a problem and I don’t want to get anybody else mixed up in that nightmare.’ She clapped her hand over her mouth as if to stop the flow of words.

  Alarmed, knowing he was almost within sight of the village, he pulled onto the verge and killed the engine. ‘Hey,’ he said softly, trying to see her face in the dashboard lights. ‘How’s he being a nightmare? Just trying to make a connection with me on Facebook because he saw us together is no big deal.’

  In the near darkness he saw her fumble in her bag and snatch out a tissue. ‘You’re right. I’m overthinking it. Can we go?’

  After a moment more of staring at her he restarted the car. What was he missing? What could Harvey the Ex be doing?

  Sam drove slowly on, passing the first of the village street lamps then the familiar houses of Port Road, hating that the urge to take an uncharacteristic excursion into stupid macho posturing had hit him tonight. Ava seemed as if she needed someone she could trust and instead he’d given her yet another man to treat with suspicion.

  Ava watched the road unwind like a moonlit ribbon in front of the car, as cold and grey as her feelings. She was desperate to get to bed yet wished she could somehow magic herself into her own room in Camden, instead of facing the prospect of tomorrow, an entire day of faux dating Sam under the delighted eyes of his mum and aunt.

  She’d let her anxiety betray her over Harvey reaching out to Sam but she’d checked her phone to pass the time while she waited on the steps and her stomach had plummeted at finding a notification: Harvey Snaith tagged you in a photo on Facebook.

  Her breath had frozen in her lungs.

  It had seemed to take an age for her to tap See photo with stupidly sweaty fingers, hardly daring to look yet desperate to see. A weak signal had made loading slow. Dancing on the blades of a thousand knives of panic, she’d gone through torture until the picture loaded – Ava vamping it up for the camera
… but fully clothed. No mutual friends had ‘liked’ it, probably confused as to why Harvey should be posting pictures of her now that they were no longer together. She wished that amongst all the permutations of the like button there could be one for loser.

  Ava was still shaking, not just at the sly games Harvey was playing but at the knowledge that he and his threats hadn’t gone away. He was messing with her.

  In her peripheral vision she could see Sam casting her curious glances. Apart from the occasional blip when he was being an arse he was so solid and reassuring that a compulsion to tell him about her private shame swooped down on her. But she controlled it, in the same way that she’d controlled the compulsion to respond to him this evening as they’d danced, the heat of him filtering through their clothes. Why had Harvey tried to ‘friend’ Sam?

  It couldn’t be for a good reason.

  She didn’t even want to be social media friends with Sam herself. What if Harvey began sending explicit images of her around? Instead of gazing around at the pretty moonlit village they’d entered, she screwed her eyes shut in mortification.

  She couldn’t see Sam again after this ever-extending weekend.

  Apart from at Wendy’s second hat fitting, anyway. Even if Sam was truly over what happened between his ex-girlfriend and his best mate—

  Best mate. Izz. Ava’s conscience gave a fresh, savage twinge as she was assailed by a vision of the wistful, isolated figure of her friend on the pavement earlier this evening. Ava had no business enjoying being with Sam, weekending with his family or wrapping herself around him for the slow dances. How would Izz feel if she’d witnessed that – or one of the occasional kisses that seemed to somehow have become the norm? They were hot kisses, too, not casual kisses; kisses that burst inside Ava like pleasure-filled fireworks … yet she’d set her mind against letting them carry her away to dates with Sam, bed with Sam. And especially not a relationship with Sam.

  Izz would probably love the opportunity to take any or all of those options. Sam and Ava had been thrown together by events recently but she made a silent vow to make that stop. Ava wasn’t the kind of person to jump all over the feelings of her friends; she found ways to help them and make them happy. Neither did she string men along when she had no intention of letting anything happen, occasionally blowing on the spark between them just to see how hot it glowed. Here was where she called a halt.

  She took a deep breath. ‘Would you go out on a date with Izz?’

  The car jinked threateningly towards a pick-up parked at the side of the road as Sam’s head whipped around. ‘What? Why?’ He sounded dumbfounded. ‘I’ve told you that there’s no prospect of that, even if we didn’t work together. And don’t tell me it would only be a faux date because it can’t be right to faux date two women at once.’ He returned his attention to the lane that was carrying them between ironstone cottages and brick-built Victorian terraces, a few with lights showing at their windows, but most in darkness.

  Her toes curled inside her party shoes. ‘I wasn’t thinking that the date should be faux. I just feel so bad that I’ve been dancing with you and everything when she has such a crush. And now, regardless of the sleeping arrangements, I’m going to be staying out overnight with you. She’s one of my best friends.’

  For a minute he drove in silence, taking a right turn into a charming cul-de-sac, its sign proclaiming it to be Church Close. He brought the car into a drive beside an overgrown hedge in front of a long, low house. ‘I see your side of things but it’s not right for me to patronise her or raise her hopes. And I’d never date someone who worked for me.’ He shoved his hair back from his eyes. ‘I’m sorry if the faux dating is an issue between you and Izz. She wasn’t in my mind when I suggested it.’

  Ava gazed at the wedges that the headlights cut from the darkness, illuminating mellow brickwork laced with patches of stone. Light streaming from small windows confirmed Wendy and Vanessa had beaten them home. ‘No, nor mine. I’m afraid that sooner or later it will upset her and I was thinking of ways to make her feel better. But I can see that it’s a stupid idea. She might just crush on you harder and I can completely see why you’d be uncomfortable with the work thing.’

  His voice became soft. ‘You’re a good friend to worry about her feelings when you obviously have worries of your own.’

  ‘Am I really?’ A sigh escaped her. ‘Not only is she one of my best friends, she’s my oldest. I live in her house, I work in her house, she’s the person I spend Christmas Day with, yet I keep finding myself in your company and leaving her out. She hasn’t even been snarky about me seeing so much of you when I’m clear that we’re not actually dating.’

  ‘We’re all pretty clear on that point,’ he returned, drily, before adding more gently, ‘I do think I see why Izz is on your conscience, though. Maybe it’s because I’ve just come back to Middledip where I’ll know just about everyone I meet … but I get the best friend thing.’

  The front door to the cottage flew open and Wendy stood shielding her eyes against the headlights’ glare and holding a finger to her lips, simultaneously blocking the path of two excited dogs with an outstretched leg.

  Sam snorted a laugh as he switched off his engine. ‘I’m being reminded that this isn’t London and it’s inconsiderate to leave the car running this late at night. I’ll get the bags and we can go in.’

  Indoors, Ava stepped over Wendy and Vanessa’s shoes abandoned in the hall and was introduced to the two over-excited, over-friendly and overweight chocolate Labradors. ‘This is Snickers and this is Mars. Ouch,’ said Wendy, getting a slap from an enthusiastically wagging tail. ‘Say hello to them so they can begin to calm down. Sam, are you and Ava going to sleep—’

  Sam put both overnight bags in one hand to give Wendy a squeeze. ‘You can leave me to look after Ava. I did used to live here, and you look shattered.’

  ‘Good,’ Vanessa answered before Wendy could, slipping an arm around her sister to usher her away. ‘My bed’s been calling me for hours.’

  Wendy allowed herself to be shepherded up the stairs and Sam led Ava down a hallway. He pushed open a door to display a simple white suite with a knitted green octopus perched jauntily on the cistern. ‘Shower room.’ A few more steps and he reached into another room to flick the light on. ‘You’re in here. Still a bit reminiscent of teenage boy, I’m afraid, but Mum has at least got rid of the posters of metal bands and Lara Croft. This part of the house used to be a stone pigsty but there’s been no oinking for years.’

  Ava glanced around the room, seeing blue walls, plain carpet. And a double bed. She cleared her throat, suddenly seeing two people sleeping there, limbs entwined, waking in the morning to stretch and yawn and cuddle up.

  As if seeing her vision, his voice dropped to a deep drawl. ‘I won’t be sleeping alone, by the way.’

  Ava turned to him, her heart pressing hard against her chest wall.

  Then he grinned and winked. ‘It will be me and the fat silly Labradors. Goodnight.’ He brushed a kiss on her forehead and left her alone but his return to teasing ways was somehow reassuring. Or, at least, it was simpler to deal with than being in his arms while he stared down at her with unconcealed heat and told her that he wanted her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Village affairs

  Sunday 16 December, daytime

  If Ava had gone to bed a reluctant guest in Middledip, at least she’d slept like a log in the centre of the big bed, if only after a few disturbing minutes of picturing Sam’s long frame in exactly the same spot.

  She awoke to a dazzling morning of winter sunlight, throwing back the curtains to gaze at a garden of bird feeders and wind chimes and brown ploughed fields over a shaggy hedge. Frost outlined every leaf with delicate precision. She imagined waking every day to such prettiness, wondering whether Sam’s younger self had noticed the greens of spring and golds of summer, or simply taken them for granted.

  Turning eventually from the landscape, she examined the pictu
res on the wall – a couple of cars, a pencil drawing of a dangerous-looking bear and a cityscape of neon signs and traffic, then gathered her things and slipped across the hall for a brisk shower.

  After dressing, she followed the sound of voices and the smell of bacon until she found a long rustic kitchen and Wendy, Vanessa and Sam chatting around the stripped wooden table. The dogs skidded up to greet Ava as if propelled by their whirring tails and she made a fuss of them to hide her self-consciousness at intruding into a very family scene.

  Wendy obviously had no intention of treating her as an intruder, though. ‘You’re up!’ she cried, climbing to her feet. ‘We’ve been waiting to take the dogs out and show you the village.’

  ‘I think Mum’s pleased to have you here.’ Sam’s hair was unusually tumbled and he hadn’t shaved, the very picture of a man relaxing on a Sunday morning. He got up and gave Ava a warm hug and a quick kiss, the way he might if he and Ava were an item even if not yet sharing a bed. It occurred to Ava that the sleeping arrangements had probably made Wendy and Vanessa think Ava was unusually proper, which was very nice, if not very accurate.

  Flushing because Sam’s arm was still warm around her, Ava smiled at Wendy. ‘I’d love to see the village.

  ‘Bacon sandwich first?’ Sam suggested.

  ‘Oh yes, of course.’ Wendy lit the grill, beaming, without waiting for Ava’s answer. ‘And tea. Or coffee? Sam, get Ava the juice. Ava, bacon soft or crispy?’ Gently, Sam sat Wendy down while he took over the grill.

  After eating thick bacon between slabs of white bread into which the butter melted mouthwateringly, Wendy found Ava boots, gloves, scarf and a wadded waxed jacket suitable for the country while the dogs whirled in circles, as if tripping everyone up was the best way to ensure they weren’t forgotten.

  Soon the little party was leaving Church Close, Wendy wearing a thick blue knitted hat, Vanessa towed by two Labradors but trying to hold them back to Wendy’s gentle pace. Bringing up the rear, Sam took Ava’s hand. She gave him a startled look but then realising that it was all part of the faux dating, grinned. ‘I’m going to pretend to twist my ankle so Wendy and Vanessa will expect you to carry me all the way back.’