Just for Christmas - Emily Harvale Page 0,4

he was so laid back that absolutely nothing fazed him. Asher told Molly he thought the dog was about two.

She shrugged off her coat which Terry took from her, but before she had time to retrieve the lead, Miracle suddenly opened his eyes as wide as saucers, sniffed the air enthusiastically and darted off towards the kitchen.

Molly and Terry shot a look at one another and chased him along the hall. They arrived in the kitchen just a few seconds after him, but they were too late to save the honeyed ham.

Miracle had taken a large chunk out of it and both his cheeks were crammed with meat. He sat, with a saintly expression on his face, as if he hadn’t done anything wrong, despite the fact that the remnants of the ham lay on the floor in front of him between his large paws.

‘Miracle!’ Molly snapped but couldn’t stop herself from laughing as the dog tried to chew on his bounty without making it obvious he was doing so.

‘It’s not funny.’ Terry didn’t sound amused in the least. ‘Sarah’s spent the whole day cooking that, and all for nothing.’

‘Not entirely for nothing. Miracle seems to be enjoying it.’

Terry scowled at her. ‘I hope you’ll still be laughing when you’re eating cheese and biscuits tonight because your dog’s eaten the ham.’

‘I love cheese and biscuits.’ Molly winked at her brother and gave him a playful nudge. ‘I’ll go and buy a ready cooked ham and I’ll apologise to Sarah. It’s not the end of the world, Terry.’

Miracle pushed the ham behind him and turned his back so that they couldn’t see him devour more of it. Now, Terry did laugh.

‘Does he really think we can’t see what he’s doing? He’s not very bright, is he?’

Molly laughed louder. ‘I don’t know about that. He’s the one eating honeyed ham for supper while we’ll be having cheese and biscuits. That’s pretty smart of him.’

Two

Chance Warren gazed at the now pale rose-white, double fronted, thatched-roof cottage, with a sense of achievement. Only a few weeks ago, when he’d become its debatably proud owner, he had seriously wondered if he’d made a mistake. He’d heard of ‘buyer’s remorse’ and it was definitely possible that at that time, it was exactly what he was feeling. The cottage then was a vivid cerise pink, and far more dilapidated than it had looked on the internet.

He’d had a survey, of course. One of his old friends had carried it out. But when he’d collected the keys after completion, he realised that perhaps he should’ve taken more notice when Phil, the surveyor had laughed and asked him if he’d lost his mind.

‘It might be cheaper to knock the place down and build a new one,’ Phil had said.

‘It doesn’t look that bad in the photos,’ Chance had pointed out.

‘Photos can be deceiving, mate. You only have to see some of the girls I’ve dated from those online dating sites to realise that. They’re nothing like their pictures. And Wishing Well Cottage is nothing like the photos on the estate agent’s site. Now I’m not saying they’ve been photoshopped or anything, but they must’ve been taken a long time ago. And through a rose-tinted lens on a bright sunny day.’

‘Is it really that bad?’ Chance had tried to hide his disappointment. ‘Don’t forget I’m a builder. I can turn my hand to most repairs.’

‘There’s damp. Plaster’s fallen off most of the walls in places. The wooden window frames are rotting. The kitchen’s out of the forties and don’t get me started on the bathroom.’

‘But is it structurally sound?’

‘Well, there’s no sign of subsidence and the place has stood for a couple of hundred years and could well be there for a couple of hundred more, but it needs a lot of work. And didn’t you say you want to have the place refurbished by New Year’s Eve? I don’t think there’s much chance of that, mate. Not without a miracle. But it does have a couple of surprisingly ornate fireplaces and some other original features. With time, a lot of effort and a large amount of money, the place could be transformed.’

‘Then it’s good that I’ve got all three of those things, isn’t it?’ Chance felt happier at that moment and had decided to press ahead, but when he’d first seen it in reality, he’d definitely had some doubts.

Now, as he looked at the pale rose-white façade, toned down several shades from the eye-piercing pink of old, an immense