Page 1 of The Best Little Christmas Shop
Chapter One
I dropped my bag on the floor, flopped face down onto my childhood bed, and let out a groan. This was so not how it was supposed to be. But then I’d learned that there were some things in life that no matter how much you planned or wanted them, just weren’t to be.
Letting out a sigh, I wriggled over onto my back, staring up at the ceiling blankly for a moment before dragging myselfup and wandering over to the squishy sofa that sat beneath the window, snagging my furry slipper boots on the way. Plopping down into the softness, I pulled the boots on before turning to look out of the window. Folding my arms across the back of the sofa, I leant my chin on them and peered out into the last vestiges of daylight.
My room was separate from the rest of the house – a self-containedstudio flat above the garage that my parents had created for me in my early teenage years, providing an escape from my three brothers. Not that we didn’t get on – I was lucky in that respect. But a girl still needs her own space and, more importantly, her own bathroom. The fact that Mum often used to come and sit with me clued me in to the idea that I wasn’t the only one using it as respite fromall that testosterone.
Mum and Dad had always wanted a girl. They never planned to have four kids and I was definitely a last-ditch attempt so there was some relief when I popped out. From the time I was born, I’d been dressed in, and surrounded by, more pink than was really acceptable, even for a very girly girl. And therein lay the problem. I was, very definitely, not the girliest of girls.I could have the prettiest dresses and the cutest little bunches but I was still coming home covered in mud, with scrapes on my knees and a big grin on my face.
To their eternal credit, Mum and Dad were never disappointed and had never tried to force me into doing something I didn’t want to, or stop me doing the things I did. Trailing along after my brothers – Matt, Dan, and Joe – up to theirelbows in car parts and wood and oil and mud, I was at my happiest. It was hardly a surprise then that my choice of career wasn’t traditionally feminine either, and after years of working my way up, I had been well on my way to becoming Chief Engineer for the number one driver in our team. But “had been” was definitely the operative term.
My eyes drifted to the corner of the sofa where my old,much-repaired teddy bear lounged comfortably. I reached out and pulled him to my chest, folding my arms across him as my mind drifted back over the past year. I’d spent the best part of it trying to find another place that fit me so well as the Formula One world had, but after going from place to place, had come up with nothing that felt quite the same.
I was therefore, at present, effectivelyunemployed. I’d been lucky enough to have never been in the position before and it was a distinctly odd feeling and definitely not one I was comfortable with.
I let my gaze drift down to where weak, cloud-shrouded moonlight was now highlighting the bare branches of the huge honeysuckle bush that sat beneath the window. In the summer, its heady, intoxicating scent would drift up and fill the space.Now it just looked spiky, bare, and barren. There was a knock at the door and I rolled my head to see my eldest brother, Matt, enter carrying my case and another smaller bag.
‘Where d’you want these?’
I shrugged. ‘There’s fine. Thanks, Matt.’
He gave me a glance, ignored my instructions, and carried the luggage across the room, laying them next to the off-white French-style wardrobe and chestof drawers.
‘Any chance of a cuppa?’
I let out another sigh and dragged myself off the sofa and over to the tiny kitchenette. It had rarely been used for anything more than a sandwich and endless cups of tea and hot chocolate because, although I might have wanted a little independence all those years ago, I also knew that my mum was pretty much the best cook in the world.
Big family dinnerswere our thing. It didn’t have to be a special occasion. The everyday was special in our house. It was fun, sometimes noisy – OK, always noisy – with plenty of discussion and a lot of laughter. I think that’s why I’d enjoyed the team atmosphere of work. We’d got on well and, being away from my family so much, it had provided me with a surrogate one.
I boiled the kettle and pulled a couple ofmugs out of the cupboard whilst Matt grabbed a pint of milk from the mini fridge that Mum had clearly stocked up earlier in the day.
‘I’d ask if you’re glad to be home but it’s pretty clear from your face that you’re not,’ Matt said as he plopped milk into our tea.
‘What?’ I looked up at him, genuinely horrified. ‘Of course I am!’
‘OK.’ He took a slurp, watching me over the rim of the mug.‘But you are aware you’ve got a face like a slapped bum?’
I rolled my eyes at him, picked up my mug, and took it back to the sofa, pulling the handmade quilt draped across the back of it over my legs as I sat down. Matt sat next to me, his mere presence calming me as it always had. He and I had always had a special bond. As the eldest, he’d seen it as his job to take care of all his siblingsbut especially me as the youngest, and being a girl. It didn’t matter how many times I tried to tell him not to treat me differently, I always got that little bit of extra attention from him. And secretly I loved it. Whatever happened, I always knew Matt would have something wise and comforting to say.
‘So, guess you’re really stuffed on your career then if you’re home?’
All right. Maybe notalways.
I gave him a stony look. ‘Thanks for that.’
He shrugged and took a sip of tea. ‘I’m sure you’ve got a plan. You always do, no matter what life throws at you.’
I lowered my eyes and watched a traitorous tear splosh into my drink.
‘Lex?’
‘Hmm?’ I kept my gaze lowered.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Matt put his mug down to the side of the sofa and reach out to take mine. I madea half-hearted attempt to hang on to it for a moment but gave up. I was tired. It had been a long day of travelling and really, I was just tired of all of it, of putting on a brave face for everyone, pretending that everything was under control when the truth was quite the opposite. Matt tilted and dipped his head, forcing me to look at him.
‘What is it?’
I just shook my head. ‘I don’t havea plan, Matt. I’ve tried everything. No one wants to take me on. As far as they’re concerned, I bailed on the team and broke my contract and all the previous years of utter and absolute commitment mean absolutely nothing. I’ve tried everyone I can think of. I thought normal stuff would be OK but just doing MOTs and basic repairs nearly sent me insane within a couple of weeks. I literally don’t havea clue what to do now. I’m effectively homeless, jobless, and I’ve apparently totally burned my bridges in the racing world. You’re right. I’m stuffed.’
