I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day - Milly Johnson Page 0,7

it didn’t connect the first time. She tried again.

‘Are you okay? Thank goodness,’ he said. ‘Where are you?’

‘I couldn’t get to where I was heading, so I’ve had to make a diversion. I’m in a pub, I’m safe, no need to worry.’

‘Is Luke there with you?’

‘Not yet. He’s on his way—’

‘What did you say? You cut out.’

‘HE’S ON HIS WAY I SHOULD IMAGINE.’

Luke would be here, she had absolutely no doubt about that. He was nothing if not reliable. Well, at least he was these days, by all accounts. Plus, she knew how much he wanted this divorce to go ahead. He’d drive through fire for it, never mind the new Siberia.

‘I wish you’d just come straight home.’ The weight of concern in Ben’s voice brought a smile to Bridge’s lips.

‘I might have done if I’d known this was going to happen.’ She said it but she wasn’t sure if it was strictly true.

‘You must not even think about trying to drive back in this tonight,’ Ben warned her, having to repeat it twice because his voice kept dissolving into crackles and silence.

‘I promise you, I won’t,’ Bridge replied. ‘I’m on the sensible side of mad.’

‘What?’

‘I said I won’t. Line’s awful.’

‘But you’re all right?’

‘Yes, I’m dry and safe.’

‘Good.’ She could feel his sigh of relief whisper into her ear.

‘I’ll ring you later to let you know how our meeting goes.’

‘Can’t hear you, Bridge. Hello? Hel—’

The line died. Modern technology was great until it wasn’t. She tried to reconnect the call, but no luck. She sent a text but the message wouldn’t deliver. She noticed an old-fashioned rotary dial phone on the bar in a stunning shade of mustard. She lifted the receiver to hear absolutely nothing; the landline was also deceased, it seemed.

No, she would definitely not be driving back tonight if the snow carried on falling, but at least she had been able to tell Ben that and stop him fretting, because he would worry, bless him. He was a sweet, caring person and she was lucky to have him in her life. Luckier than he was, because she was all too aware that she’d taken her phone out of her bag primarily to check if Luke had been in contact and not to tell Ben she was okay. Once again he was at the top of the important! list in her head and she hated that he was. The sooner they did what they had to do and could conclude their business, the better.

If she had to stay here tonight, then so be it. With any luck there would be an overnight thaw and she’d excuse the mild inconvenience and look forward to being in her own bed before midnight tomorrow so that Santa wouldn’t pass by her house. She laughed to herself at that thought. She’d always been in bed before midnight on Christmas Eve as a child but it seemed Santa’s sack was empty by the time he got to her chimney. Year after year her hope in his existence dwindled a little more until she lost it altogether at nine. And one day she met Luke Palfreyman and then all her lost Christmases landed in her lap in one sparkly, candy-cane-flavoured, tinsel-wrapped lump.

She took another sip of brandy, listening for the slightest sound in the muted silence. There had to be someone around in this godforsaken hole. She put down her glass, deciding to undertake a more detailed search of the premises, starting with the area behind the bar where she found a small galley kitchen and what was probably a pantry off it. No human in there, though. The ladies’ and gents’ toilets were identical, apart from their walls, which were pink in one case, blue in the other. They each contained a single cubicle, one sink, a bowl of spicy potpourri gently scenting the area. Bridge caught sight of herself in the mirror to find her straightened hairstyle hadn’t held firm after her outdoor exploration and had reverted to its natural kinks, making her appear less serious, more casual, a look she didn’t want today. She left the cloakroom and went up the narrow, steep staircase, which creaked and groaned as if protesting at the weight of her, all eight and a half stone of it.

Still calling ‘hello’, she pushed open the doors and checked each of the three bedrooms up there: two with twin beds, the other a double, all unmade; each room had an en-suite with shower. The décor was chintz