Page 1 of Christmas Is All Around
FIVE WEEKS TO CHRISTMAS
CHAPTER ONE
Whenever Charlotte was feeling particularly gloomy about the state of the world, finding herself at the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport inevitably made it even worse.
“Don’t mind me,” she muttered darkly, swerving around a couple that was enthusiastically kissing directly in front of her and narrowly avoiding hitting them with her overstuffed weekender bag. Considering she’d booked this plane ticket with approximately forty-eight hours’ notice, she had not managed the world’s most efficient packing job; however, the couple in question was still making out, showing no sign they even noticed that one of them had nearly been accidentally assaulted by a fellow passenger.
“Charlotte!” She peered around at the sound of her name, spotting her sister’s blonde hair, identical in hue to her own. That was before she registered the hand frantically waving in the air or the bright green, flowing dress that looked impossibly chic amid a sea of weary, sweatpants-wearing travelers just off a red-eye from New York. Clutching her bag and tugging her wheeled suitcase behind her, Charlotte made a beeline toward Ava and soon found herself engulfed in a hug.
“I told you I could just catch the Tube,” Charlotte said, once Ava drew back enough to allow her to breathe.
“But where’s the fun in that?” Ava said brightly, and Charlotte was immediately suspicious. She loved her sister, but Ava was not the sort to go out of her way. Charlotte considered the options Ava had weighed to arrive here.
a)Pay the exorbitant cab fare to get to and from Heathrow;
b)Brave London traffic, in an exceedingly small car, while driving on what Ava still, after several years’ residence in the UK, insisted on calling “the wrong side of the road”;
or
c)Take the Tube all the way to Heathrow herself, merely to keep Charlotte company on the return journey.
In other words, Charlotte smelled a rat. She considered how to broach this topic delicately, but delicacy had never been one of her particular virtues.
“What’s this about?” she asked bluntly, allowing Ava to relieve her of her bag as they made their way to the cabstand.
Ava frowned, attempting to look hurt; Charlotte was not convinced. “Can’t a woman want to spend a few minutes with her baby sister without her motives being questioned?”
Charlotte considered for approximately 0.2 seconds. “No.”
“Fine.” Ava waited until they had secured a cab, loaded Charlotte’s bags into the trunk, piled into the back seat, and inched their way out of the frankly terrifying milieu of Heathrow before she continued. “It turns out that the flat on the floor above us has been turned into a holiday rental.”
“Okay?” Charlotte was mystified as to how this related toanything, unless Ava was going to launch into a lecture on the evils of capitalism and the devastating impact of short-term rentals on the property market, in which case the timing still seemed a bit odd. A grim thought occurred to her. “Wait. Are you asking me to stay there instead of with you?” She started calculating how much a six-week rental, in West London, at Christmas, would be, and then wondered how much it would cost to change her plane ticket instead.
“No! No!” Ava said hastily, looking contrite. “Charlotte, you’remy sister. I wouldnever.” Her eyes went misty; Charlotte was unmoved, because Ava had been adept at working up a tear for dramatic effect since she was about five.
“Ava.” Charlotte sensed that someone needed to take this conversation in hand, and, per usual, that person was not going to be her elder sister. “Explain.”
“Kit’s parents have rented it!” Ava burst out.
Charlotte frowned. “For how long?”
Ava leaned forward, with the foreboding air of someone about to deliver a terminal cancer diagnosis. “Fromnow until New Year’s.”
“Good god.”
Ava slumped back in her seat—a clear sign that she was upset, because she was usually irritatingly conscious of her posture, and constantly badgering Charlotte about hers. “I love Kit’s mom, you know—”
“Because she’s your future,” Charlotte said with an angelic smile at her sister. “I deeply do not want to psychoanalyze your husband, but there are undeniably similar… vibes.”
Ava narrowed her eyes at her, but wisely decided not to open that particular line of debate. “But,” she continued determinedly, “six weeks is…”
“A long time?”
“Yes.” Ava sighed. “And I wanted to warn you that Simone is very keen on… activities.” She paused dramatically. “Christmasactivities.”
Charlotte allowed a single, muffled whimper to escape her lips.
“It’s just that it’s Alice’s first Christmas, you know,” Ava said hurriedly, naming the very round, very loud offspring she’d produced that summer. Charlotte had already visited once since then; she was not much of a baby person, but she did think—in her totally unbiased opinion—that Alice was quite obviously the most adorable baby on earth. She also, however, happened to be possibly the most demonic. “So Simone thinks we need to take her to meet Santa, and to tea at Fortnum’s—”
