Christmas at Hope Cottage: A Magical Feel-Good Romance Novel(33)

‘Nothing,’ said Emma. ‘There’s no point if he won’t even try something I’ve made.’

It was a pity, she thought, when Evie found out, not because she was punished – she wasn’t; Evie knew her disappointment was punishment enough – it was a pity because it just might have worked.

Emma had got good at sensing what someone needed just by looking at them. A drop of the shoulders, a downcast head, would benefit from a recipe designed to ward off melancholy. Someone with holes in their clothes and dust lining their pockets would be wise to try one that brought about some luck.

Emma went to sleep dreaming about the recipes in The Book, and woke up excited to see which ones they would make that day. In her notebook, which was now full of sketches and observations and imaginary recipes of her own, she doodled future ideas, which very often included one to change an Allen’s mind. Never dreaming that one day, there’d come a time when she wouldn’t want anything to do with The Book, when she would begin to blame it for everything that went wrong.





Chapter Eleven





Present day





* * *



Evie and Emma’s aunts had started on the second layer of the Good Cheer Christmas Cake, which was now soaking up the combination of honey and hope. Long ago, it had been Emma’s task, as a little girl, to pour it into the tin, her face solemn as she said the words. Now, though, she escaped to the greenhouse before they could ask her. It was cosy here with the heaters on. Emma had a thick, cream woollen scarf around her neck and one fluffy pink mitten on her uninjured hand. Outside, there was frost on the grass, and the sky was clear and indigo.

‘Evie said you’ve bought a farmhouse?’ asked Emma as she and Sandro got to work on her column.

Sandro smiled. ‘Yeah, it’s great, or it will be when it’s fixed up. It has these dormer windows…’ he said, his dark eyes lighting up.

Emma’s mouth fell open. ‘It’s not the old stone farmhouse with the blue shutters, is it? At the edge of the village?’

He looked at her in surprise. ‘You know it?’

Emma’s eyes widened. ‘Yes. I’ve always loved that old place, it’s so pretty there, with the views of the moors, and the castle, you can smell the heather in the summer, and just feel like you’re in another world—’ She stopped, blushing.

His eyes though were wide, staring at her. ‘No, you’re right – that’s exactly it.’

They shared a grin.

‘So, you bought it?’

‘Yes – it was one of those cases, you know, when your heart is leading your head, it’s pretty much unlivable just yet – but hopefully, soon.’

‘I think that’s great – I admire it, to be honest, having that sort of faith.’

‘Well, you’re in the minority.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘No reason,’ he said, shaking his head, a cloud crossing over his dark eyes.

She couldn’t help wondering who’d objected. Something told her that perhaps it was a woman. She didn’t know if Sandro had a girlfriend; her aunts had said there had been a girl, but the way they’d spoken, it seemed like it hadn’t ended well.

‘So, you’ve bought a farmhouse, deep in the heart of the Dales – what brought you here, really?’

‘Oh, the usual, you know. Tax benefits, sunshine…’

She laughed. Then guessed. ‘Love?’

He nodded, gave her a sad smile. ‘Yes. But it didn’t work out.’

‘What happened?’

He didn’t say anything for a while, just stared at her with his rather intense brown eyes, and she reddened slightly. ‘Sorry, it’s none of my business, obviously…’

He shook his head. ‘It’s okay, Pajarita,’ he said, running a hand through his curly hair. ‘We were just… incompatible, eh. She wanted the city life, wasn’t really keen to leave London, and I’m more of a country boy at heart. And I suppose there was the small problem of her sleeping with my landlord, as well,’ he added, with a wry laugh.

‘What?’ Emma gasped.

‘Yes – bit of a shock that, after I’d moved here to be with her.’

‘Jesus, I’ll say,’ she said, pulling a face. ‘I can’t imagine anyone wanting to cheat on you—’ she started, then went slightly red. ‘Oh God…’

Had she just inadvertently told him she found him attractive?

‘Thanks.’ He grinned, the dimple appearing in his cheek.

She laughed as well, rolled her eyes. ‘I just meant when you’re not driving me nuts, you’re, you know, okay I suppose.’

He threw his head back, roaring with laughter. ‘Thanks, that just touches my heart.’

She giggled. ‘I live to please. Why stay then, in England I mean?’

‘Well, I came down here, just to clear my head – I was planning on leaving, but then I saw the valley and I’ve always wanted to open up my own restaurant… I was sitting in the teashop when I ran into Dot.’

‘Dot Halloway? My Dot?’ she exclaimed, sitting up.

‘There’s another?’

She laughed. ‘Well, no… definitely not. Go on.’