A Country Village Christmas Read online

  ‘I’m sorry, I think you might…’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about being late.’ Sally waved away Olivia’s attempt at explaining and dropped a key card on the table. ‘I know you’ve already checked in online and the honeymoon suite is all ready for you.’ Sally’s glance became impish. ‘We did think you might rather have dinner in your room, though. Just the say the word.’

  Her cheerful gaze went from Olivia to her companion across the table. ‘Gosh, you look just like that chap, what’s his name, from that show? I bet you get that all the time.’ She giggled again, adding a wink for good measure. ‘The champagne’s on ice.’

  With that Sally hurried away, the card on the table between them. Olivia stared after her, momentarily lost for words as the older woman was swallowed up by the crowds at the bar.

  ‘Well, that’s a first.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ Olivia swung her eyes back to her companion. He seemed amused, his expression easing into something more friendly.

  He pointed to the card. ‘I’ve never been offered a honeymoon suite in a pub before. Sally has clearly mistaken us for a couple about to spend their wedding night here.’

  ‘So it would seem.’ Olivia felt her lips twitching, the card sitting between them. She liked the new pleasure on his face, the warmth in his few words.

  ‘I don’t know what’s more worrying, though. That she didn’t bother to check who she was giving the key away to, or that we look so unlike a honeymooning couple should. I was reading and you were engrossed on your phone. Not exactly a picture of newlyweds, surely.’

  Olivia laughed and it was only a second until his grin followed, softening the lines around his eyes and mouth. ‘I’ll take the card back and explain.’ She stood up and made her way to the reception area, finding someone to help. Cue a swift apology and she waved it away, it was a mistake and they’d both found it funny.

  She returned to her table, weaving through the crowd enjoying Christmas music, surprised to find her companion’s gaze on her and liking the quick anticipation she was feeling at the thought of re-joining him. She slid into the booth, replacing her bag on the leather seat.

  ‘All sorted? The real newlyweds still got their room?’

  ‘I think so.’ She reached for her wine. ‘If they ever make it here through the storm. I wouldn’t have minded the champagne, though.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  The waitress arrived with their meals and Olivia swallowed down a moan of greed as steaming plates of shepherd’s pie and seasonal vegetables were set before them. The young woman topped up their wine glasses before leaving them alone. They began to eat, the silence a little easier than before and it wasn’t much longer before Olivia amazed herself again.

  ‘Where are you returning to when your train is rescheduled?’

  ‘London.’ He was eating more quickly than her and paused to answer her question, amused again. ‘Are we doing this, then? Abandoning our city habits to make conversation?’

  ‘How do you know I live in a city?’ She felt a new relaxation in her shoulders, liking his lighter tone and matching it.

  ‘I’ve lived in London most of my life and I know the signs.’

  ‘Not bad. Five minutes and you’re already giving me your life history.’ London wasn’t a surprise, he carried an air of sophistication that suited his elegant voice, indifferent one moment and curious the next, and Olivia reached for her glass. ‘But I’m not from a city, I live in one. I’m actually from a small Yorkshire town.’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘Castlebridge.’

  ‘The book festival town. I know it well.’

  But that was a surprise and Olivia knew it had registered on her face as he continued. ‘I worked in Sheffield for a time and I visited the literary festival whenever I could.’ He took a sip of his wine before continuing. ‘So, which city do you live in now?’

  ‘Manchester. It’s not quite Yorkshire but it’s near enough for family and I’ve got used to having everything on my doorstep.’

  ‘Is that where you were heading before this awful weather intervened?’

  ‘Yes.’ She had eaten enough and put her cutlery down as she saw him doing the same, his own plate empty. ‘Let’s hope the storm blows itself out and we can both be on our way tomorrow.’

  She was struck by a new impulse; one she would never normally have acted on in such circumstances. But tonight she was surrounded by a blazing fire, the backdrop of lively chatter and seasonal cheer, a handsome and intriguing man opposite her, and her arm reached across the table. ‘Seeing as we’re apparently married you should probably know I’m Olivia.’

  His hand was already holding hers and his eyes narrowed in a way she really liked as they shook firmly, the little table between them. ‘Tom.’

  Chapter Two

  ‘How did we meet, then? Before we apparently got married.’ Tom leaned back in the booth as their hands separated.

  ‘Online, of course. You swiped right first.’

  ‘Oh, I did? Not you?’

  ‘Well, I probably would’ve done.’

  ‘Thanks for that.’

  They both laughed again, an ease Olivia hadn’t expected already beginning to find them through their conversation.

  ‘What did we do for our first date? Did I plan it or did you?’

  ‘Oh, I did,’ Olivia said airily, pushing her glasses into her hair. ‘You said that it was up to me and you’d take me anywhere I liked. It was wonderfully romantic.’

  ‘Was it?’ Tom was sipping his wine, his smile wider. ‘Actually, I remember now, it’s all coming back to me. I suggested Paris for the day, and you said that you’d much prefer a trip to that funny old museum, the one about operating theatres.’

  ‘But didn’t we have a lovely time.’ She was loving making up all this nonsense, couldn’t remember when she’d last laughed like this, and that was a shock. ‘The museum was closed and we had coffee in that strange little cafe near the market instead. You bought cheese from a stall and it stank the whole time.’

  ‘You told me to buy it, as I recall. Said it would work perfectly with pizza,’ Tom replied dryly. ‘It’s a wonder we made it all the way to marriage after a date like that.’

  Olivia was laughing so much she hiccupped, and stopped abruptly, embarrassment filling her face as he grinned.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said from behind the hand covering her mouth. She used her free hand to point to his paperback instead. ‘Tell me about the book you’re reading.’

  ‘You like to read?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ There was a wistful note in her voice, thoughts of her dad and his bookshop coming back to her. ‘I’ve always meant to read Payne but never got around to it,’ she said, referencing the novel on the table. ‘Are his books as emotional as people say?’

  Tom reached for the wine bottle to empty the last of it into their glasses. ‘As a generalisation I’d say yes. Personally, I think he writes with a lot of honesty about the ability of people to care and how we often make the wrong choices before learning to identify the right ones. He’s brilliant at placing recognisable characters at the heart of his writing and showing how, in the end, all of life really comes down to love. How it’s all we really share when there’s nothing else left. What binds us.’

  Olivia saw the quick flash of sadness on Tom’s face, the slight reveal telling her that he understood, believed, the truth of his reply. She’d worked with just about every kind of person throughout her career and couldn’t miss the emotion he was now trying to disguise with a smile.

  ‘Tell me about the last book you read.’

  ‘Ah, well, it’s been a while. Quite a while, actually.’

  ‘And why’s that, Olivia?’

  She didn’t want to like how her name sounded when he spoke it in that deep, unhurried voice quite as much as she did. ‘Too busy with work, I suppose, I’ve let myself get out of the habit. I really need to start again.’

  She heard the words, knew them for the exc
use they were. Her mind was always full of work, and it was easier when she dropped into bed to scroll through her phone or her iPad rather than pick up a book. ‘You’ve made me curious, though, I’m going to try Payne’s books when I get the chance.’

  ‘I’m happy to hear it.’

  Her phone was flashing with another incoming call, and she ignored it. It was her assistant and anything urgent that Olivia needed to know after not picking up would result in a text. She waited a few moments and when no such message arrived from him, she put the phone in her bag. Her dad would’ve cheered, and she felt a quick stab of guilt for not having done it when she was with him earlier.

  ‘Are you sure I’m not keeping you from something you need to do?’ Tom glanced at the notepad still on the table, her pen beside it. ‘You were busy when I came over before.’

  ‘No, it’s fine, it’s just work.’ She dismissed his concern as she pulled her glasses from her hair to rest them on the notepad. She was enjoying his company too much to return to her emails and the problems they contained. ‘Some of my clients are in different time zones and I frequently work late, I can’t switch off at five o’clock.’

  ‘What is it that you do?’

  ‘Property.’

  ‘As in development, or selling?’

  Whenever Olivia tried to explain most people assumed it was estate agency and she was quite happy to let them think so. In reality her job was so much more, and it increasingly demanded even further reserves of her time and energy. ‘As in finding. I’m a director of a company which locates property for clients with little time and specific criteria.’

  ‘That sounds challenging, as well as interesting.’ Tom’s curious gaze was fixed on hers, as though she was a question he hadn’t quite worked out the answer to yet. ‘Have you been doing it for some time?’

  ‘About six years. I met my business partner when I was head of human resources for a legal firm and he approached me with an offer. I was ready for a change and I love every minute. Except maybe the midnight ones,’ Olivia said dryly. ‘He and I have developed the business to offer a full service, finding anything from an interior designer to a security guard, a chef or a nanny. I’m sure you get the picture. So what is it you do, Tom?’

  There was only the merest hesitation before he replied. ‘I fundraise for a charity.’

  ‘What kind of charity?’

  ‘A shelter for young people who’ve ended up homeless, for all the usual, awful, desperate reasons.’

  ‘How sad.’ It couldn’t have been more opposite to her own work, quietly searching out the most expensive and magnificent properties the country had to offer for the wealthiest of clients, some of whom had more money than sense. ‘Not your job, I mean. Just that it needs doing.’

  Their wine was finished, and they both refused dessert when the waitress came back to offer it, and she suggested coffee instead. Olivia knew this was the moment when she could make her excuses and leave, head to her room and catch up with work before falling asleep. But she had enjoyed her time with Tom far more than she had expected, sure her attraction to him was reciprocated, revealed by their laughter and conversation, the glances they had exchanged.

  He seemed to be waiting for her to decide when the waitress asked again, clearly ready to be on her way. Olivia accepted, a quick rush of happiness following as he agreed to join her. The pub was beginning to quieten as people left, the festive music still a pleasant background to the night, reminding her that she had yet to start on her Christmas shopping. She ignored the thought – it had no place in this unusual evening. Instead she drew Tom back to the fun they had been having, wanting to see that flirtatious gaze on hers once again now that the waitress had left their coffees on the table.

  ‘So seeing as we’re apparently spending our wedding night here, where do you think we’d go on honeymoon?’

  He was already smiling, leaning back to consider her question and pretending to search for a serious answer. ‘Well, we disagreed on that one.’

  ‘We did? I’m not entirely surprised.’

  ‘You wanted sun and I wanted snow.’

  ‘Ah. Who won?’

  ‘You, obviously, a beautiful villa in Cape Verde. As your husband I’d aim to please.’

  Olivia blushed furiously, something she hadn’t done in a really long time. She’d rather have hiccupped again than let him see how much that simple comment had affected her. She gulped a mouthful of coffee and followed it up with a cough. Infuriating.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re a romantic, Tom.’ She kept her tone light when she had recovered, toying with her cup, her pulse still hurrying. ‘Happy endings, and all that.’

  ‘I will admit to having romantic tendencies, although I’m rapidly learning that my new wife probably doesn’t. Tell me the worst romantic gesture you can think of. Just so I can be clear. For the future of our marriage.’

  ‘Okay, for the future of our marriage. I have a few.’ Olivia thanked the waitress as she returned with a bill that she left in the centre of the table. ‘But the worst must be a cheesy night out on Valentine’s Day in some overpriced restaurant trying to dredge up meaningful conversation whilst musicians are hovering at your table.’

  ‘Agreed. And the rest?’

  ‘Have you really got time?’ she teased, pulling the bill towards her and reading the amount, neatly halving it in her mind. She felt certain he was enjoying their bantering conversation as much as she was.

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘Okay. If you’re sure you’re happy to hear them, given that you’ve admitted to having romantic tendencies.’

  ‘I am.’ Tom’s phone flickered and he ignored it.

  ‘Fine. Going down on one knee. Dancing. Watching any kind of movie that professes to be romantic. Cute little meaningless gifts. Boring date…’

  ‘Stop, please.’ He held up his hands in defeat. ‘You’re right, we don’t have time for a list that long.’

  Olivia put the bill down with her cash and he reached into his jeans pocket, pulled out a wallet, added his money to hers.

  ‘What’s your best romantic gesture, then?’ His voice was softer now, his eyes fixed on hers. She dragged her gaze away to take in his hands; elegant, a ring on the first finger of his right hand, one on the middle finger of his left. ‘I think we have time for that as the list must be shorter.’

  ‘For the sake of our pretend marriage?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘The only thing I can come up with is the perfect gift I haven’t had to choose myself. What about you?’

  He didn’t reply at once, eventually offering a glimpse into his thoughts that Olivia wasn’t expecting. ‘Someone who understands my life.’ At once his tone lightened as he covered his comment with something less personal. ‘I’d settle for an espresso Old Fashioned made with my favourite bourbon.’

  ‘Have you been married before, Tom?’ Serious, direct, personal her question this time, and she wondered if he would answer, if she’d gone too far.

  ‘Before you, you mean?’ They both smiled at that. ‘Yes. Divorced now.’

  ‘Me too. One ill-advised marriage and I have a lovely daughter in her final year at university before her masters. Do you have children?’ Olivia was still thinking of Ellie, living life at a hundred miles an hour, just like her mum, before she realised that perhaps she shouldn’t have asked Tom about family.

  ‘No.’ A quiet melancholy in his voice this time and his smile was quick, gone. ‘We wanted to but it didn’t ever work out.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  There was nothing more Olivia could add. She’d heard the emotion layered into his words and sensed he didn’t want to linger now on loss. Her fingers touched his for a second and she saw his brief nod, his acceptance of her understanding. She wondered what time he was leaving for London tomorrow, whether she would catch him at breakfast before they went their separate ways.

  She stood up and Tom was on his feet the moment she was, leaving the booth as she sli
pped her bag over her arm. How to part, she asked herself, how to say goodbye when she wasn’t really sure she wanted to quite yet. Holding out her hand for the second time this evening, he took it. She liked the feel of his fingers around hers, his thumb brushing her skin and bringing an awareness of someone else’s touch she’d almost forgotten how to appreciate.

  ‘I suppose it’s time to say good night.’ There was a trace of regret in her remark and she forced herself not to fidget as their hands finally separated. ‘Thank you for sharing dinner with me. Safe journey tomorrow.’

  A passing couple were staring curiously at them and Tom turned slightly, almost shielding her from view, his back to the room.

  ‘You too. Thank you for your company, Olivia. It’s been a really enjoyable evening, not at all the one I expected.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  His eyes were still holding hers, sending her stomach into a dive as she recognised that he too didn’t want to part, to end their evening. The words slipped from her mouth, light, casual, a suggestion she hadn’t been certain she would voice until it was hovering out loud between them. ‘Walk with me upstairs?’

  ‘Of course.’

  They left the bar and Olivia threw a glance at the receptionist, who was mercifully uninterested in them as they crossed to a staircase. Tom felt tall and unfamiliar at her side, holding open a door as they reached a landing on the first floor. She thanked him as she darted through, resisting the urge to run. Either to him or from him, she still wasn’t sure. The light in the corridor was faint and the silence felt piercing as they walked together. He smelled of wood smoke from the fire and something headier, filling her senses with ginger and cinnamon spices.

  ‘This is me.’ Olivia paused, made a point of reaching into her bag for the key card. Her pulse was racing as Tom waited for her to unlock the door. A nightlight was on beside the bed, and she dropped her bag, leaning against the door to keep it open. ‘What time are you leaving tomorrow if the trains are back to normal?’ Her voice sounded different again: breathy, low.