Page 27 of Christmas in Mistletoe
Dad hurried around the other side, before pulling it out and hugging it. “We’ve called her Clarice. Good name, Mary? What do you think?”
Mary took Pop’s money, and gave Dad a smile. “I was just going to say, she looks like a Clarice. She’s going to be a wonderful addition to the family.”
Fran bit down a comment. Everybody in this town was Christmas crazy. It was an epidemic.
“Ruby’s in the barn shop, in case you were wondering,” Mary told her.
Could she read Fran’s mind? She was in trouble if Mary could.
“Great,” Fran replied, like it meant nothing.
“Come along to The Bar later if you’re free and still here? There’s a village drinks as soon as the festival’s over. Everyone should be there by seven. I’ve made more mince pies.”
No doubt Mary was up at 5am again. That seemed to be standard in Mistletoe. Her dads had been up for two hours when Fran appeared this morning at 9am. “Country air, makes you want to make the most of it,” Pop had told her.
“We’ll try to stop by.” Fran glanced at her parents. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning, but there’s time for a drink.”
“Always time for a drink with friends,” Mary said, glancing at the next customer who’d just walked up behind Dad. “Don’t forget the Christmas Tree Contest ceremony at 4pm in the courtyard!”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dad replied.
* * *
Twilight had arrivedby the time of the contest winner announcement, but that only added to the farm’s atmosphere. Santa was drinking a hot chocolate by the stage. Fire pits made out of old washing machine drums were scattered around the courtyard for warmth. The mulled wine and hot dog stands helped with that, too. Meanwhile, every fairy light in the country appeared to have got the invite, and the Christmas trees in each corner were working their magic.
In the centre, Paul was on stage, microphone in hand. “Testing, testing.” He tapped the top of the mic. “One, two, Mistletoe.”
Fran had heard many soundchecks in her life, but never one like that.
Ruby rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “He does that every year. I used to get so embarrassed as a kid. Now, when I’m mic-checking, it’s what I do, too. Testing, testing. One, two, Mistletoe.”
“I’ll remember to look out for that at your next gig.” Fran stamped her feet against the cold. When they’d been busy earlier, the cold had been kept at bay. However, standing around was a different story.
Ruby glanced at her, went to say something, then stopped. She bit her lip, then took a breath. “Are you coming to The Bar later? Mum’s made mince pies. Audrey’s made sausage rolls. It’s going to be a spread of beige food, the likes of which would cause London to have a cardiac.”
“We’re coming. Your mum told us about it earlier.”
“Great.”
Fran moved her mouth left, then right. “Who’s won, by the way?”
“I can’t tell you that. Let’s just say, it’s not a million miles away from my favourite. In fact, it might even be that one.” She leaned in closer, putting her mouth by Fran’s ear. “The downhill skier,” she whispered. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
Ruby’s breath tickled Fran’s ear, and the tingle that ensued zipped down her body. Fran kept a straight face, then mimed zipping up her lips and throwing away the key. Her heart clattered in her chest. Fran just about held it together, pulling her shoulders back to stand as tall as she could muster. A little like a baby Christmas tree. “Just as a matter of curiosity, what’s the punishment of giving away the result? Has anyone ever done it?”
Ruby grinned. “Mum did once. She was chatting to a customer, and it just popped out. Dad didn’t speak to her for two days. Just tutted. If you want to avoid Paul’s tutting, best to play dumb.”
“Gotcha.” Fran nodded towards the mulled wine stand. Her pulse was still thumping. “Can I get you a mulled wine? Or is drinking on the job discouraged?”
“When I’m not being paid, I make my own rules. I’d love one.”
Fran nodded. “Two mulled wines, coming up.”
* * *
“Another beer, Michael?”Sue asked.
Dad glanced over to Pop, then at Fran. “Can we stay for one more?”
