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

good but then made his stomach rumble which wasn’t. Should have had a sneaky slice of Sheila’s cake before he’d come out. Or, maybe he should have brought the cake for them all to share. You couldn’t really call it a bribe if the baker was related to the client, could you?

      ‘Oh, hi there, Jake,’ Juliet said, entering the large storage room with more boxes, ‘is it meeting time already?’

      ‘I can wait if you need to get this done now?’ he automatically offered. ‘Or I can help?’ He glanced down at his hands. Okay, they were probably the last things Kate and Juliet wanted around their nice-smelling, beautifully packaged bottles and soft-looking towels but anything to get some breathing space from the pint-sized acting mixologist with eyes the colour of silver-grey brunia berries.

      He wasn’t quite sure why she’d made such an impression. But from the moment he’d peered around Gertrude and seen her, it had been all he could do to keep his tongue in his mouth.

      She was like a beautiful blonde woodland fairy blinking back at him.

      Of course then she’d opened her mouth … and kept on opening it … In the category of chatting there was little doubt she could give the head of the am-dram society, Trudie McTravers, a run for her money.

      And he’d reacted to a little sass by behaving like a complete and utter arse.

      What the hell?

      It made no earthly sense.

      Aside from the realisation he was close to getting sucked in by what was on the outside and then getting slapped upside the head with her unending enthusiasm for her surroundings that was. Oh, and that undeniably seductive life-energy that was practically vibrating out of her.

      It was all very thought provoking, he decided.

      Alluring? Maybe, he conceded.

      Suspicious? Definitely, he concluded.

      Because seriously, there had to be a little guile lurking in there somewhere, right? Where was the ‘what’s in it for me?’ And why was she really here in Whispers Wood? Who went from acting to managing a tearoom?

      Then, suddenly, it was all making sense.

      She had to be straight out of the Marlon Brando school of method acting and was obviously here to learn the ropes and soak up the lifestyle for a part in a film.

      Okay.

      So with that sorted there wasn’t any need to be any more curious, he decided.

      Soon as she nailed how to pull a pint or how to perfect a British accent, which with her melodious voice already halfway to charmingly clipped when she’d said ‘arse’, wouldn’t be long, and then she’d be off.

      Not that he was going to be around anyway, he reminded himself.

      Phew.

      Analysis and compartmen‌talisation complete.

      ‘We shouldn’t leave Emma on her own on her first day. I could give you both a quick guided tour at the same time,’ Kate decided. ‘I know you’ve probably come up with designs for our courtyard already, but maybe this would help give you an idea of how to tie in the aesthetics?’

      ‘Sure. Daniel not around?’

      ‘No, he’s out picking up some extra fairy lights,’ she explained.

      ‘Fairy lights?’

      ‘You can never have too many, I think. Especially with Christmas coming up.’

      Right. Christmas. Fairy lights. Christmas lights. They all equalled one thing.

      Celebrations.

      Jake stared at a bale of towels. ‘I have a few boxes you can have,’ he offered without thinking.

      ‘Yeah?’ Kate closed the armoire doors and began flattening the cardboard boxes as Juliet unpacked them.

      ‘Yes. Two dozen to be exact.’ He grabbed a couple of the boxes and made short work of deconstructing them. ‘They’re all white though.’

      ‘That would be—oh,’ Kate broke off as the fairy-light dawned on why he might possibly be in possession of a small town’s supply of stringed lights. ‘No. It’s all right. You don’t have to do that, Jake. Honestly.’

      The shrug was hard to pull off when he could hear the sweetness in her voice. ‘It’s not like I need them anymore,’ he stated.

      ‘Oh, but, you might want to decorate Knightley Hall anyway? You know, for Christmas,’ Juliet added, her voice super-kind, making Jake’s shoulders stiffen. This was exactly why he couldn’t wait to get out of Whispers Wood.

      ‘Bit tricky on a Grade I listed building,’ he insisted. ‘Seriously, now that they won’t be going up in the gardens, you’d be doing me a favour. One less thing to store.’

      Kate smiled gently. ‘Well, let’s see how many Daniel finds, before I give you a definitive answer.’

      ‘Sure.’ He pushed the word out and tried to leave it nonchalantly hanging as he followed her and Juliet out of the room.

      ‘It’ll probably take him about half an hour to get back. You okay waiting?’

      Jake thought about how if he nipped back home he could pick up the boxes of lights, get them out of the house and still get back in time to have the meeting proper. Then he thought about how getting this job might provide enough funds to fix the leaking roof before it suffered another year’s worth of winter damage and decided that a little oohing and ahhing over a full-ticket price tour was the better option. ‘Absolutely. Lead the way,’ he told Kate.

      They found Hollywood in what was going to be her ‘office’.

      She was gazing up at the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling rose in the centre of the room. The expression of magical delight on her face was the same one his nieces got when he remembered to re-arrange the fairy furniture in the stumpery before they visited.

      ‘Is this light an original fixture?’ she asked when they walked into the room, self-consciously removing her beanie and running a hand through her hair.

      ‘Depends what you mean by original,’ Jake muttered, as he watched the pale gold swathe of her hair swing free and settle gently around her heart-shaped face.

      Kate threw him a worried frown and mumbling, ‘It’s absolutely gorgeous, isn’t it?’ walked over to hug Emma. ‘Welcome to your new home away from home. What do you think?’

      ‘Oh, only that it’s fabulous,’ Emma laughed, her eyes sparkling. ‘I mean, I don’t know exactly what the place looked like before, but the space you have now is amazing.’

      Jake had to admit Emma’s enthusiasm was justified here. He’d worked on garden designs for some of the houses Oscar Matthews had renovated so he knew his friend did good work, but to be honest it was hard to believe this was the same room the village congregated in whenever Crispin Harlow called a Whispers Wood meeting.

      Oscar had installed a stud wall at one end of the room, presumably so that a small kitchen area could be included behind it. The new wall was now kitted-out with dark-stained oak cabinetry that could give the hand-crafted mahogany bookshelves from the library at Knightley Hall a run for its money.

      A couple of feet in front of that there now stood a stunning oblong bar. Oscar had mimicked the traditional Georgian design of the windows by making simple rectangular panels inset into the base at regular intervals and then painted it in thick cream gloss to match the architraving. The bar’s surface was a polished mid-tone marble that picked out the cream of the base and the darker stained oak of the wall shelves. A sturdy kick-bar and hand-rail in burnished copper had been fitted along the outside, and suspended above the bar was a series of small chandeliers surrounded by a glass and copper-piping racking system. A fresh lick of eau de nil paint on the walls and all the original features had been buffed, shined and polished.

      The