Page 54 of Christmas at Sturcombe Bay (Sturcombe Bay Romances #3)

“Great party, Mike.” Eric, the porter, raised his pint glass in a cheerful toast.

“Yes, it is.” Mike raised his gin and tonic in return, smiling as he gazed around the ballroom.

It was two days before Christmas. The last of the Turkey-and-Tinsel groups had gone, and as they did every year before the hotel closed for the holidays the staff and their families, with some friends from the town and other guests, had gathered for a Christmas party.

But this year was different. The hotel wouldn’t be reopening in the new year. And when it did reopen, after all the renovations had been completed, he wouldn’t be here.

The lights on the Christmas trees and the curtain falls all around the room were twinkling, champagne was flowing and the DJ was playing yet another cheesy Christmas song.

Over on the far side of the dance floor he could see Kate dancing with her new son-in-law, Bill. Very brave of her — hopefully she’d be nimble enough to keep her toes away from his clumsy size twelves.

The song ended and another came on. He watched as Kate made her escape from Bill and wove between the dancers to come back to him. Her smile warmed his heart.

He took her hand and bent to kiss her cheek. “You survived?”

“Of course.” She laughed. He really liked the way she laughed — soft as a summer breeze. “He’s actually getting better. How about you? I bet you were glad to get out of that Santa suit. It must be really hot.”

“It is. And the beard tickles.”

“But the kids love it.”

“They do. Though I think some of them are getting to the age when they don’t quite believe it anymore. Especially your Amy. She was giving me some very suspicious looks.”

“Ah, she’s a bright one. Anyway, come and dance with me.”

The song was one they could jive to. Mike felt a small stab of pride in her, that she danced so well. Those pretty brown eyes were laughing as she twirled and spun so lightly on her dainty feet.

When the music changed, he slid his arm around her waist, drawing her closer. Several people cast them curious glances, but he didn’t care. He was with Kate, and he wanted everyone to know it.

* * *

Kate let herself relax in Mike’s arms. She had been a little shy at first about people knowing that they were together, but why should she mind? She was proud to be with him.

After all the cheesy songs, the DJ was playing a beautiful Christmas ballad — Roy Orbison, one of her favourites. She murmured along to the wistful words — although there wasn’t really room to waltz she loved dancing with Mike.

“Debbie’s looking well,” he remarked, glancing across at Kate’s daughter who was dancing with Bill, smiling up into his homely face as if to her he was as handsome as any film star.

Kate smiled too — no need to worry about their happiness.

“Have they told Amy about the baby yet?” Mike asked.

“No. They wanted to wait until after the twelve-week scan, and Christmas. She’ll be over the moon. Anyway, how about you?” She tipped back her head to look up at him. “How’s the job hunting going?”

“Ah, well, yes. That.”

“What?”

There was a wry quirk to his mouth. “I haven’t really been looking for a new job.”

“You’ve changed your mind about leaving here?”

“No . . . But . . . What you were saying, about needing to employ someone in the café, with Debbie being pregnant?”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Yes . . . ?”

“Have you found anyone yet?”

“No.” Where was this going? “I thought I’d put up a notice in the window, ask around. There’s bound to be a youngster looking for a job.”

“Would you consider someone older?”

“Of course.”

“Or a man?”

“Well . . . yes, I suppose . . .” She hesitated, the cogs in her brain starting to fall into place. “Did you have anyone in mind?”

He just smiled.

“You?”

“Why not?”

“But . . .” She shook her head — in bewilderment rather than refusal.

“You said I need to do what’s right for me,” he reminded her.

“Well yes, but . . .”

“Look, if you don’t want me, that’s okay. I’ll understand. It won’t make any difference to . . . us.”

“Oh, no. I mean, yes, but . . . You’d really want to come and work in the café? After managing the hotel? Wouldn’t it be . . .”

“A step down? Yes, but that’s exactly what I want.

I’m fifty-seven years old. Losing Sarah taught me that time isn’t endless.

Why waste the time I have doing something that’s just a job, something that doesn’t make me happy to wake up in the morning?

I’d be happy working in the café — with you. What do you say?”

“Oh, Mike. I’d love to have you working with me, if that’s really what you want.”

“It is.”

“Then you’ve got the job.” She laughed, a bubble of happiness growing inside her. She had been so anxious that he would be leaving Sturcombe, just when they were growing close to each other. “When can you start?”

“As soon as you like. And . . . as I’ll be moving out of my accommodation here, I was wondering what you’d think about me moving in with you?”

“In my flat?”

“Of course, I can find somewhere else if you’d rather not,” he assured her quickly. “If you think it’s too soon. I’ve spoken to Vicky Cullen and she said I can have one of the cottages she’s renovating, if I want it.”

She smiled up at him, the bubbles of happiness fizzing in her heart. “I don’t think it’s too soon. Like you said, time isn’t endless. Let’s make the most of it.”

“Let’s. I love you, Kate Rowley.”

“Oh, Mike. I love you too.”

He bent his head, and his mouth brushed over hers, tender and sweet. How lucky was she? In her middle fifties, after twenty-plus years alone since her Terry had died, to have found love again at last.

She hadn’t noticed that he had steered her out to the conservatory. As he lifted his head and glanced up, she followed his gaze, and realised that they were under a spray of mistletoe tied to one of the cross struts of the roof.

“You know what?” he murmured. “Let’s go three for three.”

“Three?”

He smiled slowly and tilted his forehead against hers. “Let’s get married.”

* * *

“Oh, hello.” Shelley paused by one of the tables, recognising the two women from the Ladies Golf League.

Was it really only a couple of months since they’d been here before?

It felt like half a lifetime — so much had changed.

Now she could smile with a confidence she hadn’t known then. “How do you do?”

“Ah, it’s Shelley, isn’t it? How nice to see you again.” The older of the two extended her hand. “It’s a very lively party, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.” Shelley laughed, glancing round at the ballroom. Everyone was enjoying themselves, dancing and singing along to the cheesy Christmas songs the DJ was playing. With the lights lowered, the room was transformed into a smart disco or nightclub.

“It was kind of Mr Crocombe to invite us,” the other woman — Mrs Lavis? — said. “We’ve been discussing our plans for next season.”

“Oh?”

“You’ll be pleased to know that we intend to bring several of our regional ladies’ tournaments here. And we’re negotiating to host a round of the national tournament, too.”

Shelley smiled in delight. “Ah, that’s good.” They had been hoping for that. The contract would secure bookings for quite a few weeks over the whole year. “We’ll be pleased to have you.”

“I’m not saying that it was entirely because of what you did to help us in dealing with Mr Gibbons,” Mrs Booth confided, smiling, “but it was certainly a factor in our consideration.”

Mrs Lavis nodded. “We felt that your courage in coming forward deserved some reward.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Well . . . thank you.”

“We’ve been looking at the display board about the plans for the hotel. It’s going to look fabulous. Really elegant.”

“Yes, it is.” And not yellow and purple, thank goodness!

“I love those new waterfall chandeliers you’re putting in here. And the wall lights in the corridors upstairs give a much nicer light than ceiling lights.”

“I’m looking forward to trying out the spa. We were talking to Mike earlier. He said they’ve already started on that.”

“Oh, yes. It’s in the annexe, so they were able to make a start even while there were guests here.”

“Such a charming man.” She glanced eagerly around the ballroom. “Is he still here?”

“Yes, I . . . um . . . think he’s just popped outside for a minute.” She smiled to herself. The staff often teased Mike gently about how many of the older women guests took such an interest in him.

“He told us he’s leaving.”

“He’s taking early retirement. We’ll all be sad to see him go. But he plans to stay in Sturcombe, and he’ll still be coming in to help Alex get the hang of running the place.”

“That’s good. Well, Merry Christmas, my dear.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Shelley wandered around the side of the room, watching the dancing. Everyone was thoroughly enjoying themselves. Santa hats and reindeer antlers and sparkling garlands of tinsel were the dress code, and the champagne was free.

“Ah, there you are. Come and dance with me, eh?”

Shelley glanced round as Alex came up behind her, her heart skipping. She knew it was crazy to let herself fall in love with him, but she couldn’t help herself. If it all ended tomorrow . . . Well, she’d survive.

He drew her out onto the dance floor and slipped his arms around her, drawing her close and moving with her to the music, and she let herself stop thinking about tomorrow, next week, next month.

She was with him for now, and that was enough.

“Where have you been?” he asked, smiling down at her.

“Chatting to the ladies from the golf league. They said they’d been looking at the display boards in the lounge.”

“What did they think of it?”

“They loved it. They told me they’re bringing more tournaments here.”

He nodded. “We agreed terms this afternoon.”

“That’s good.”

He was a good dancer, easy on the rhythm. And it felt so good being in his arms. If people were staring, shocked to see her with him, why should she care?