Christmas at the Little Clock House on the Green. Eve Devon

out a drawer and took out some sketches. ‘I drew them up last night. It’s how I think it should look when finished.’

      Sarah stared at the watercolour sketches. ‘Oh, I love these. You’ve made it into a sort of garden chapel.’

      ‘Actually, that’s not a bad description.’

      ‘It’s stunning. A private oasis beyond the rose garden.’

      ‘So you can see how it should look in bloom?’

      Sarah nodded. ‘It’s a shame you can’t finish it straight away. With The Clock House opening up in a few weeks, Crispin’s going to start bringing up your plans at the village meetings.’

      ‘If Crispin wants me to open earlier, then he can raise the tens of thousands of pounds needed to finish this project off.’ Jake wasn’t rushing anything. If it was worth doing, it was worth doing well.

      ‘Maybe if you did Gloria’s charity calendar – joking,’ Sarah added, as soon as she saw his trademark scowl hit his face. ‘You know if you’re going for the chapel look, you could hold weddings here.’ She pointed to his sketches and the plans. ‘Set up a marquee on the back terrace, or have a picnic down by the lake, but the ceremony should be here under this main connecting arbour. Can you imagine the scent? So romantic.’

      Jake winced.

      Yes, okay, the thought had trickled in, along with the puzzle of why his great-great grandfather, George, had added a plan for this area but never had it made.

      George Knightley had started his career in theatre construction so it wasn’t that surprising to Jake he’d shown a true gift for design. What was surprising was why something that would have worked so well on the estate had been bricked up?

      George’s designs had been fascinating Jake since he’d stumbled across them while poking about in one of the potting sheds, looking for a bottle of beer or a cigarette when he was fourteen.

      After overhearing yet another conversation about money between his parents, he’d been in need of a distraction. They’d all found ways to deal with the stress and reality growing up on an estate the size of Knightley Hall but he’d been the only one to put that energy back into the land and that had been down to Sid, the head gardener at the time, taking him under his wing. Showing him a different way of dealing with pressure and showing him George’s designs so that his passion for restoring the gardens had sparked.

      Years later and Jake knew his plans to get the place to pay for itself were going to work. He just needed to be done with winter and for spring, summer and autumn to last about twice as long as it usually did.

      ‘Sorry. Shouldn’t have mentioned the “R” word,’ Sarah said, getting up to plonk her mug into the cheap-as-chips stainless steel sink before turning around to walk back over to the table and switch on her laptop. ‘So, about what I brought to show you … the thing is, I kind of wanted you to see it first so that when you receive your invite, you’re not too shocked.’

      ‘Invite?’

      ‘Mmmn. It’s for the opening of The Clock House.’ She brought up the gif she’d been designing and said, ‘Okay, press “Play” and tell me what you think.’

      Intrigued, Jake reached forward and set the gif in motion. As the envelope opened up on screen, he grinned. ‘Now this is what I call an invitation to a grand party.’

      ‘You like it?’

      ‘I do. More to the point, I think Kate, Daniel and Juliet are going to love it.’

      ‘I thought it was good. I mean, you know what I mean.’

      Jake’s gaze snagged on the date of the party as it flashed up on screen.

      Sarah bit her lip. ‘And now I’m guessing you’ve realised the date of the opening was going to be your—’

      ‘It’s fine,’ Jake said, cutting her off.

      ‘Is it?’

      ‘Is this really why you came here, to tell me about the date?’

      Sarah looked at him with what looked suspiciously like sympathy. He tried a warning scowl and the sympathy in her eyes only deepened. Damn siblings. They saw you running around in a pair of dungarees made from curtains when you were younger and there was just no way they could ever be scared of you again. Gentling his voice anyway, he ran a hand absent-mindedly over his hair. ‘I don’t have dibs on dates, Sarah.’

      ‘Well, no but—’

      ‘Like I said, it’s fine. But I won’t be able to babysit Elton for you that night.’

      ‘Of course you won’t. You’ll be at the party.’

      ‘Actually I won’t.’

      ‘Jake, you can’t mope around here on your own.’

      ‘I won’t be.’

      ‘Okay. That’s good. Wait – are you saying you’re going to be moping around somewhere else?’

      ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’ve rented a cottage in Cornwall over Christmas. You lot are always on at me to take a holiday, so I am.’ And if that happened to mean he was also going to be far away from pitying glances and memories of last Christmas, how very handy.

      ‘What are you talking about?’ Sarah demanded. ‘You disappeared on Christmas Day last year and all we got was a text saying you weren’t coming back until the day after Boxing Day – and we totally understood after what happened,’ she rushed out, ‘but you know Mum’s hoping we’ll all be together to do the family Christmas celebration, thing.’

      Jake bit back a grimace. If he had his way no one would ever find out where he’d ended up on Christmas Day.

      ‘You really won’t be in Whispers Wood this Christmas?’ Sarah asked.

      ‘Correctomundo.’

      ‘And you don’t think everyone will worry when they hear about this?’

      ‘It’s just a holiday, Sarah.’

      ‘Bull. You’re running. In fact I’m changing your name to Running Bull.’

      He could tell the moment she realised he wasn’t going to change his mind. That she could call up the family and get them all to call him Running Bull but that nothing could get him to change his mind from vacating Whispers Wood over Christmas.

       Chapter 6

       Season’s Greetings

       Emma

      ‘Em, heads up. Incoming.’

      Emma looked up from concentrating on measuring out a shot of tequila and just managed to catch the bottle of water being thrown at her.

      ‘Take the water and grab five minutes.’

      ‘Are you kidding?’ Emma looked at Bar Brand’s manager, Rudy, like he was insane and then jerked her head pointedly at the three-deep throng at the bar.

      ‘Not actually kidding,’ Rudy confirmed. ‘You haven’t had a break since you got here and this is your third double shift of the week. DiNozo’s going to cover you.’

      Emma felt Tony (DiNozo’s actual name) bump her hip as he reached over to grab the jigger from her hand. He flashed her one of his trade-mark grins. ‘What are we making?’

      ‘Looks like you’re making a Mulholland Drive,’ she said, whipping off her black apron and stepping back. ‘Apparently I’ll be seeing you in five.’

      ‘Make it thirty,’