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

still trying to get over the fact that you think you’ll get to grips with bullet-journaling,’ and the cramp eased.

      Bea would have loved everything that was happening at The Clock House and she, Kate, was nearly used to not searching for confirmation she was doing the right thing every time she walked through the front doors.

      Feeling steadier, her hands went to open the first of the letters that Sandeep, the postman, had handed her on her way in and her heart started beating faster as she stared at the official-looking envelope. Opening it, she pulled out the crisp formal headed letter paper and halfway through the first paragraph she let out a ‘Whoop’ and twirled in her chair.

      They’d only been given their licence to open Cocktails & Chai in the main reception room opposite Juliet’s salon. The room with its gorgeous, gigantic chandelier was the perfect setting for a tearoom/bar.

      ‘Could this morning get any better?’ she laughed and immediately opened the second envelope.

      ‘No-el, No-el.’

      ‘Wowsers, Kate,’ Juliet shouted up the main staircase of The Clock House. ‘It’s a bit early to be singing Christmas carols, isn’t it?’

      ‘That’s singing?’ asked Oscar, Kate’s brother-in-law who, after being known as The Young Widower of Whispers Wood for years was happily getting used to now being known as Juliet’s boyfriend.

      ‘Someone’s really murdering that carol,’ Daniel commented as he walked into the foyer. Spying the boxes of balance ball chairs that had been delivered, he gave an excited ‘Yes’, and walked over to inspect them.

      ‘That someone is your girlfriend. And if she doesn’t stop I’m not sure I can be held accountable.’ Oscar pointed to the drill he was holding because he was also known as Whispers Wood’s resident builder.

      ‘That’s definitely not singing,’ Daniel said with a frown. ‘I’ve heard her sing. Or have I? That’s really her singing? And what’s with the carols in October? I guess I’m going to need you both to promise me you’ll never fill out an application for The Voice on her behalf.’

      ‘Why would we?’ Oscar asked. ‘Because that’s not singing. In fact, I’m pretty sure Will.I.Am would correctly call it Kitty-Kat Kate Caterwauling.’

      ‘If only she was from Wales,’ Juliet lamented, ‘she might still be in with a shot.’

      ‘We could move the whole of Whispers Wood to Wales and she’d still hurt ears,’ Oscar said. ‘It’s worse than when Melody went through the Frozen sing-a-long sleepover phase and I had to cope with ten five-year-olds thinking that singing mostly involved squealing high enough for dolphins to hear.’ Oscar’s daughter, Melody, had recently had her ninth birthday. She’d been only four when her mother, Bea, had died and Oscar had had to learn fast how to help his daughter through the grieving process while going through it himself.

      ‘Come on, guys,’ Daniel cajoled, ‘let’s cut Kate some slack. She’s under a lot of pressure to get this place ready for the grand opening.’

      ‘No-el, No-el.’

      The three of them stared up the stairs.

      ‘Okay,’ Daniel said, rolling up his sleeves, ‘I might just see if I can get her to sing a different carol.’

      ‘Thank you,’ Juliet sighed. ‘Oscar and I appreciate you taking one for the team.’

      Abandoning the yoga ball chairs, Daniel headed for the stairs. ‘Right, then. Off I go.’ He looked at Juliet and Oscar from the third step. ‘Upstairs. To gently explain …’

      ‘We’re right behind you,’ Juliet said, grinning as she made a shooing motion up the stairs.

      Kate looked up as the man who had been rocking her world for months now stepped into her office.

      He’d popped out to get himself a key cut to her place, Myrtle Cottage.

      No big deal – if he’d taken her casual suggestion, and for casual, read, extremely well-rehearsed monologue, at face value.

      Darn.

      It would probably be better, if on his return, he didn’t then immediately see her crying.

      With a big sniff she realised Oscar and Juliet were hovering in the doorway behind him. Two more excellent reasons to pull herself together. Ever since she’d come back to Whispers Wood she’d tried to show Oscar he could trust her to stick around and get involved in her niece, Melody’s, life, and Oscar had tried to show her he didn’t blame her anymore for staying away for so long after Bea had died. But maybe the person who had worked hardest to get them to see each other as family, not enemy, was sweet, kind, heart-as-big-as-a-mountain, Juliet, and the fact that Melody and Oscar looked so happy these days was testament to how much they’d fallen in love with Juliet this summer.

      Looking at the three people who were helping to make The Clock House a reality, Kate felt the pressure to get everything perfect rise up and shaking her head in dismay, whimpered, ‘No-el.’

      ‘The angels, are in fact, genuinely crying, Katey-Did,’ Daniel said softly and then hesitated and swallowed. ‘Hang on – are you crying? What’s happened? Why are you sitting here crying Christmas carols?’

      ‘Not singing carols,’ she hiccupped miserably.

      ‘See?’ Oscar whispered to Juliet, ‘I told you that wasn’t singing.’

      Kate stared at them all as she picked back up the invitation she’d opened and flapped it about manically. ‘No “L”,’ she tried again and when three faces stared back at her uncomprehending she banged her head on the desk and wailed, ‘No “L”, No “L”.’

      ‘Is it possible the stress of opening this place has made her regress to some sort of primitive communication?’ Oscar muttered.

      Daniel took the invitation from her and began reading aloud: ‘This Christmas, you are cordially invited to the grand opening of the—’ his eyes got round. ‘Holy—’

      Juliet and Oscar came to stand over his shoulder.

      Kate’s head came up from the desk, pleased to have finally made herself understood.

      Juliet gasped as she finished reading. ‘Oh my God, the letter “L” is missing the whole way through?’

      A throaty laugh rumbled out of Oscar.

      ‘It’s not funny,’ Kate insisted.

      ‘It’s a little funny,’ Oscar said, grabbing the invitation to check for himself. ‘Cock,’ he exclaimed. ‘I love it,’ and at Juliet, Daniel and Kate’s raised eyebrows added, ‘Wait – that didn’t come out right.’

      Kate snatched the invitation back from him. ‘This is going where it belongs, in the round file,’ and with dramatic flair she slam-dunked it into the bin, then, with a pout, moaned, ‘It never misses in films,’ and fishing it up from the floor, she stuck it in the bin. ‘I don’t know why you’re laughing,’ she said to Daniel. ‘Or have you always wanted to run your business out of a cock house?’

      ‘See when you put it like that …’ Daniel moved behind her to pluck the invitation out of the general waste and move it into the recycling bin.

      ‘You do realise we’re going to have to kill Crispin for this,’ she muttered. ‘I’ll need a plan on my desk by the end of the day.’

      ‘How about we don’t but say we did,’ Juliet offered soothingly.

      Crispin Harlow, head of the Whispers Wood Residents’ Association believed whole-heartedly that it took a village to raise a village. He put the “e” in pedantic, the nosy in parker and could also be completely sweet and terribly caring, but for the purposes of allowing herself to get justifiably riled up, Kate was going to ignore that. ‘As if I have the time to sort out this