Just for Christmas - Emily Harvale Page 0,62

have to go. Lots of love, sweetheart.’

‘And to you. Have fun.’

Molly rang off and stared into the mirror in the sitting room.

‘Things will start looking up for me. Really? Yeah. And we’ll have snow again on New Year’s Eve.’

As all the forecasts predicted unusually high temperatures and bright sunny days for today, New Year’s Eve, and New Year’s Day, snow was extremely unlikely.

Thirty

Today was New Year’s Eve and Molly had made a decision. Tomorrow she would be returning home to Bristol. Christmas, and Easterhill, would be miles behind her, both figuratively and factually.

She would allow herself to think about Chance, and what might have been, for today, but that was going to be it. No matter how much her heart was breaking, no matter how much she longed to hear his name, she intended to tell Sarah and Terry that she didn’t want to hear about him for at least the next few months. She would also ask Vicky not to mention him to her, if at all possible, for the same amount of time.

Not that Vicky would have any reason to contact her and tell her what he was doing. Prior to this Christmas, the only time Vicky had mentioned him was if she bumped into Molly in the street in Easterhill. As Molly had no intention of returning to Easterhill for at least a couple of months, she wouldn’t be bumping into Vicky. They had never texted or called one another before, so why should now be any different?

Except it was. They had grown close this Christmas. Vicky had made her feel as if she were a part of the family. And Vicky would be looking after Miracle. Molly wanted to know how he was doing. But Vicky could tell Sarah that, and Sarah could tell Molly.

It would just make it easier if she didn’t have to hear Vicky’s voice. It reminded her far too much of Chance. Not that he sounded like his mum. He didn’t. But it was just some of the things she said, and the way she said them, that brought back memories Molly would rather not have to deal with.

Molly got out of bed and drew back the curtains. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Instead of the sunshine the forecasters had predicted, the sky was a mass of clouds. Banks of clouds. And not just any clouds. These clouds looked remarkably like the ones that had brought blizzards of snow for days on end over Christmas.

How could the forecasts have been so wrong? But it wasn’t the first time and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

Even as she watched the clouds tumble across the sky, banging into one another like fluffy dodgem cars, the first heavy snowflakes began to fall.

By the time she had showered, dressed and gone downstairs, a layer of snow already covered the pavement, the garden, the houses and the trees.

‘It’s snowing!’

‘Now who’s the ace detective?’ Terry asked, drolly.

Molly pulled a face.

‘Very funny. The forecast was for sunshine. Lots and lots of sunshine. And unseasonably high temperatures.’

‘It appears it was wrong.’

‘Yes but … I’m leaving tomorrow.’

‘And?’

Molly sighed. ‘And, brother dear, if this snow is as bad as last time, I might get stuck here. Perhaps I should go right now? Just in case.’

‘You can’t do that.’ Sarah seemed genuinely upset.

‘Why not?’

Terry tutted. ‘Because it’s New Year’s Eve.’

‘And?’ She glanced at Terry and grinned.

‘And we have plans. We’re going to The Piemaker’s Rest.’

‘Yes,’ Sarah said. ‘We always go there on New Year’s Eve.’

‘I think this year you may have to go without me. I’m sorry, Sarah. I can’t risk being stuck here for days on end. I’ve got a business to run.’

‘You can run that from anywhere. You already do a lot of it online. Okay, I accept a number of your clients and suppliers are based in and around Bristol, but it’s a big wide world, Molly and people in Easterhill and all the surrounding towns and villages need interior designers just as much as the people in Bristol do. Chance proved that.’

‘Can we please not mention his name? I was going to ask you a big favour. I know it may seem silly, but can we please not speak of him again for the foreseeable future?’

Sarah and Terry stared at one another before looking back at her.

‘Are you serious?’ Terry asked.

‘Deadly.’

‘But he’s my friend.’

‘And he can remain your friend. I’m not asking you not to see him, or talk to him. I’m asking you not to tell me about