I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day - Milly Johnson Page 0,15

it had been gifted to her.

‘Wonder who owns this place?’ said Charlie. ‘I mean Figgy Hollow. I thought I knew this area, but I’ve never heard of it. It’s most odd.’

‘I hope it isn’t haunted,’ said Robin, throwing another log on the fire. ‘It looks like one of those places that could be.’ He shuddered involuntarily.

Jack went over to the window, clearly frustrated, saw the snow falling. Their three cars were completely covered now, looking like bumps underneath fondant icing.

‘This is ridiculous. The whole bloody country goes to pot when there’s a bit of snow. We export to Finland and they live with snow day in, day out. Doesn’t affect their lives one bit.’

‘In Tromsø in Norway, between November and January, the sun doesn’t even peep over the horizon,’ put in Mary. ‘You have to change your mindset when you live with months of dark and snow. That’s why they don’t get a seasonal depression.’

All eyes turned to her and she felt her cheeks heating up.

‘That would make perfect sense,’ said Bridge, feeling the need to rescue the younger woman, who she suspected wasn’t in the spotlight much. ‘Have you been there?’

‘My mother’s Norwegian,’ said Mary. ‘I’ve spent a lot of time there.’

‘Really, Mary?’ asked Jack, raising a brace of surprised eyebrows.

Something else he doesn’t know about me, thought Mary. But then, why should she be of any interest to him?

‘That explains your colouring then,’ said Charlie. ‘Those lovely light eyes and pale golden hair.’

Mary’s blush deepened, but she carried on speaking. ‘The Norwegians don’t stay in and mope, they go out. One of their sayings is that “there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing”.’

‘They’re right of course, but I’m staying put in front of the fire,’ said Bridge.

Charlie laughed. ‘At least Robin and I have brought plenty of good snow clothing with us. One of our suitcases contains only boots.’

‘They don’t moan about the weather and bring down their mood,’ Mary went on. ‘They go for a walk, breathe in the lovely fresh air, build snowmen, go skating and skiing. Then they come home, kick off their boots, drink hot chocolate and eat cake.’

‘That sounds fun,’ said Charlie. ‘I want to go to Norway now, not Scotland. Have we time to change the booking, Robin?’

‘Don’t be silly, Charlie,’ Robin answered somewhat gruffly, before standing and announcing that he was going to the loo.

‘Poor Robin,’ said Charlie with a sigh, when poor Robin was out of earshot. ‘I drive him mad. He booked the Scotland trip especially for me and I know he’s worried we won’t get there.’

‘Well, we’re going to have to acquire some of that winter Norwegian mindset, certainly until tomorrow,’ said Bridge, her turn to get up and look out of the window now, to try and peer through the falling snow in the hope of seeing a pair of headlights. It was half-past eight but felt like the middle of the night. It was brutal out there now, the road impassable. So why couldn’t she shake the feeling that Luke wasn’t holed up in safe shelter and he was still doggedly on his way?

Chapter 6

Half an hour later, Robin’s phone began to beep-beep loudly in his pocket. He took it out to cancel the alarm then went over to his bag, unzipped it and rifled through it. When he came back to the fire, he had two tablets in his hand that he gave to Charlie, who grimaced.

‘I hate these chewy ones,’ he said.

‘You don’t chew those, you swallow them whole. I’ll go and get you something to eat because you’re supposed to take them with food. Proper food, not mince pies.’

‘The mince pies were lovely and tasted like proper food to me.’

‘You know what I mean, Charlie. I’ll see if there’s anything I can make a sandwich with. Anyone else want one?’

‘I’ll come with you and make some for us all,’ said Mary. ‘The mince pie was very nice but it didn’t fill me up.’

Bridge stood, held her palm flat out towards Mary to stay put. ‘You did it last time so I reckon it’s my turn now.’

Jack stood also, put his phone in his pocket after checking it yet again for activity. ‘I’ll help. I need to do something else rather than just look at a fire. I’m going stir-crazy already. So who’s for coffee and who’s for tea?’

Bridge led the way to the kitchen, sneaking another peek out of the window as she passed it. She wished she knew