Curl up by the fire this Christmas with the ebook bestseller Catherine Ferguson.
When Poppy’s boyfriend Martin proposes the week before Christmas, she doesn’t know what to do. It’s not that she doesn’t love him… it’s just that she has her doubts. But with the twelve days of Christmas to decide, time is running out.
Meanwhile, her best friend Taylor is desperate for the pair of them to fulfil their dream of setting up a dinner party catering company – and when an opportunity arises at a luxury log-fire cabin, the girls take their chance to impress. But they hadn’t bargained on the owner of the lodge being quite so attractive – and having quite such a sexy voice. As the twelve days tick on, will Poppy realise that Martin is the one for her? Or will it be love in the lodge when the new year comes?
EXTRACT
Before long, I hear a
tiny snorting noise and turn to see Harrison’s head is thrown back.
His mouth is open and he’s snoring gently. I nudge him and whisper,
‘Time for bed?’
He comes to and gives a
huge yawn. ‘Yes. Bed,’ he agrees, standing up and holding out his
hand to me.
‘You go. I’ll be up
in a minute,’ I tell him.
‘Okay, Puss. Don’t
be long.’
‘Mrs Morelli was
really pleased,’ I tell him as he heads for the door.
‘Who?’
‘Mrs Morelli – you
know, the woman I cooked for.’
‘Oh. Yes, of course.
Well, that’s brilliant.’
I smile excitedly. ‘I
know. It couldn’t have gone any better, really, despite the problem
I had with the terrible cut of meat. I ended up having to slow cook—’
His phone buzzes with a
message.
‘Sorry, Puss.’ He
glances at me apologetically and wanders out, studying his text. ‘You
can tell me all about it in the morning,’ he calls from halfway up
the stairs.
I sit there, staring at
the blank screen of the TV. After all the excitement of the night, it
would have been lovely if Harrison had wanted to toast my success
.
No wonder I’m feeling
a bit deflated.
*
Next morning, I’m
making toast while Harrison does his morning vanishing act behind The
Financial Times, when the landline rings.
I dive on the phone,
assuming it’s Erin calling to see how I’m feeling after last
night.
It’s a man’s voice.
‘Hi, Poppy. I hope
you don’t mind me phoning, but I was just wondering how last night
went?’
For a second, I’m
thrown. But not for long. That deep voice with a hint of gravel is
unmistakeable.
‘It’s Jed. The
total stranger who invited you for Christmas by mistake?’
‘Jed. Hi. Um – it
went brilliantly, thanks.
‘Was the customer
happy?’
I smile. ‘She was
over the moon and her guests couldn’t stop complimenting the
tiramisu.’
There’s a rustle as
Harrison pops his head round the newspaper and gives me a ‘who’s
that?’ look.
‘Sorry, I’ve got to
go,’ I tell Jed. ‘But thanks so much for calling.’
‘No problem. I’m
just glad it went well. Have you got a name for the business, by the
way?’
‘Well, not really.
Although, my friend Erin thinks she’s come up with a corker.’
‘Which is?’
I close my eyes and
smile as I say it. ‘Diner Might.’
There’s a brief
silence, then the sound of hearty laughter. ‘Diner Might. Dynamite.
I like it. Although maybe not quite the sophistication you’re
aiming for?’
‘That’s just what I
thought. Any suggestions gratefully received.’
‘Right, I’m on it.’
‘Is Clemmy coming for
Christmas?’ I ask on impulse, not caring that Harrison is
listening.
‘Yes, she is.’ Jed
sounds surprised that I should ask. ‘I’m meeting her when I get
off the train at Easingwold on the nineteenth.’
‘The two p.m. train?’
I smile, recalling how adamant he was about leaving London promptly
for the holidays.
He gives a throaty
chuckle. ‘On the dot. She’s cut off her long red hair,
apparently, so I’ve told her she has to wear a carnation otherwise
I might not recognise the new sophisticated Clemmy.’
I laugh, feeling the
tiniest bit deflated, which is strange. Although, on reflection, it’s
probably because, while Jed and Clemmy will be enjoying their
Christmas together, Harrison will be away in Spain and it’ll just
be me and Mum rubbing along together
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