I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day - Milly Johnson Page 0,122
herself and would recognise her worth without having to be starved of it first. He sighed, logged out of his Mac and remembered the parcel Kimberley had brought in. A rectangular box wrapped in brown paper, a handwritten address in beautiful script. He opened it up to find a note stuck to a brown box, bearing the insignia of a gold knight on horseback, the word BURBERRY underneath.
Dear Jack
I hope this finds you well.
I’m afraid to inform you that my wonderful Charlie passed away on the day we all left Figgy Hollow. He whispered away in his sleep, his end was peaceful, happy but always too soon. His funeral is on 25th January, 11am at Tuckwitt Church (dress code: black and dashing) and I would love for you to be there with us.
Charlie left me instructions to send you a gift for you to use, but also another for you to read. There’s a note on the title page. Another one of his ‘Rules of Life by a Man who Lived Well’ and he did live very well, Jack.
Your presence on the 25th will be a light spot in a dark day and I do hope you can make it and the Figgy Hollow Six can be reunited for the last time.
Fondest regards
Robin (and Charlie) x
Jack made an audible ‘ah’ of sadness. News that wasn’t unexpected, of course, but he’d hoped that Charlie was still with Robin, living out his last days in comfort and kindness. He opened the box to find a folded cashmere scarf with a repeating pattern of an equestrian knight logo. Sitting on top of it was a copy of Persuasion, the old battered one that he’d brought down from his room on Christmas Eve so Charlie could read it. He opened it to the title page and read.
Love is a risky, frightening business. What if it doesn’t work out? But my goodness – WHAT IF IT DOES! Be as brave as a knight in matters of love, my dear Jack, and read this book from cover to cover for guidance.
With my kindest wishes
Your friend Charlie Glaser x
It wasn’t Jack’s usual sort of read, but he would, for Charlie. Maybe he’d see why he and Mary had been discussing it so fervently. Mary again. All roads led back to Mary.
The notepad full of Charlie’s nuggets of wisdom sat in his office drawer. Occasionally he would hear them, read out in Charlie’s voice: Meet the requirements of your requirements. And the one about the ships in harbours had been branded onto the folds of his brain.
Jack closed up the office, he would not be coming back until Monday. He was switching off the phone, having lunch with Roman and Georgie tomorrow, moseying around an antiques fair on Sunday. He drove his Maserati home, parked up in front of his super plush dream house and pushed open the front door, switched on the lights. It had felt even emptier recently, more echoey. It was a beautiful house, but a lonely shell, not unlike himself. He wished he had someone to share it with, share himself with. And he could not get Mary Padgett and her blue-green eyes out of his head, nor the joie de vivre that hung around her like the best sort of perfume.
In short, he didn’t just miss Mary, he really missed Mary.
Chapter 37
Luke walked into the house to find Carmen in the kitchen cutting tags off baby clothes.
‘I know, I know, I shouldn’t buy before the baby comes,’ she said, ‘but just a few. Look.’ She held up a tiny white cardigan with ducks for buttons. ‘Isn’t it cute? I can’t wait.’ She pressed her hand to her stomach and addressed the growing bump. ‘Are you listening, baby? Mama has clothes for you.’
Luke gave her a kiss. He loved everything about this woman: her accent, her scent, the feel of her, the look of her. He couldn’t wait to marry her and they could make plans now the divorce was finally underway. It was weird how much spiritually lighter he felt not having the strain of it playing like a constant annoying backing track.
‘Oh, Luke, there is some post for you. It came this morning.’ Carmen reached over and handed him a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. The address was handwritten in elegant scroll. Inside was a black box with a designer logo – the head of Medusa.
‘Versace?’ said Carmen, her chin resting on his shoulder. ‘Who has been sending you expensive presents?’