Page 55 of I’ll Be Home for Christmas

They began at Demeter with the Doukases.

Mr. Doukas was all jovial conversation as Ryan set up the tripod and ring light for Fred’s phone, while she arranged the family—all four of their sons, plus daughters-in-law and several reluctant teenage grandchildren—in a relaxed formation on banquettes in front of a mosaic depicting the Greek goddess Demeter, looking serene beneath an olive tree in a field of barley.

Mrs. Doukas remained reserved, regarding Fred as one might a spider lurking in the corner of the room.

Fred couldn’t really blame her for feeling mistrustful after their brush with Warren and his contentious brand of journalism.

She only hoped the response to her campaign would go some way toward softening up the matriarch.

With everyone settled, Fred took a moment to steady her nerves, then gave Ryan the nod that he should begin filming.

“Hello, everyone! And Merry Christmas!” she began.

The shake in her voice was audible but Ryan gave her a thumbs-up and she plowed on, recalling her aunt’s pep talk from this morning .

I am not the focus, I am simply the spotlight.

She took a breath and a quick peek at her notes, then plastered on a wide smile.

“My name is Fred Hallow-Hart, and I am a fourth-generation maker of Hallow-Hart Christmas Crackers. Any small business needs a supportive community if it’s to thrive, and Pine Bluff has the best. So, in my capacity as one of Santa’s little helpers”—she gave a little curtsey—“I am going to introduce you to some of the wonderful small businesses we have here in our corner of the Scottish Highlands. I’m kicking off this tour of delights with Demeter, a Greek restaurant owned by the Doukas family.

They have been serving excellent Greek cuisine here since Mr. and Mrs. Doukas Senior settled here, after serving in the British Army during the Second World War… ”

Filming continued and, despite Fred’s obvious nervousness and one or two attacks of stage fright from the older members of the family, it went well.

When Mrs. Doukas handed her a tub of baklava before she left, she knew she was forgiven.

The Doukases’ grandchildren were all prolific TikTok users and promised to share the video far and wide when Fred uploaded it.

Fred’s advertising mind was instantly thrilled at the connections this would generate between Hallow-Hart Crackers and the next generation of purchasers.

They stopped in at Coast Roast on the way to Smoke and Soul, under the guise of grabbing a coffee, when really Fred knew that Ryan wanted to check in with Mina and his latest roast. She didn’t mind.

She was beginning to get how that worked, feeling love for a thing you’ve built—or, in her case, generations of women before her had built.

She sat on a packing crate in the roasting room behind the shop as Ryan busied himself with his coffee beans.

“Sorry,” he said. “It won’t take long.”

“Don’t be sorry, this is your business, I should be apologizing for making you chase me around town with a camera.”

He chuckled. “I don’t mind a bit. I’m getting to spend time with you.”

“I love how much you love your business,” she mused.

Ryan laughed as he sniffed a handful of beans and then turned to jot notes into a notebook hanging from a string on the side of the machine. “Is that code for you think I’m weirdly obsessed with coffee beans?”

“Not at all. I mean you are , obviously. I was just thinking how I never felt any passion for my jobs in advertising; not like the Doukases feel about Demeter, or you about Coast Roast. I never really ‘got it’ before. I think I do now.”

Ryan smiled at her. “It sounds like the family business has chased you down at last.”

“I think maybe it’s the other way around; I stopped running and let it in. I think that was always the way it had to happen.”

“Careful,” he teased. “You’re starting to sound like your aunts.”

She laughed. “I think I’m more Hallow-Hart than I wanted to admit.”

“So, does this mean you’re done perching?” he asked, moving to take her mug.

She stood and looked into his coffee-brown eyes. “Yes. This bird has officially landed.”

“I’m so glad to hear you say that.” He bent his head to kiss her neck, and she let out a sigh of pleasure that made him press harder against her.

“Me too,” she scratched out, before his mouth met hers and she was lost in his kisses.

—

By the time they’d filmed at Smoke and Soul, and Nonna’s Olive Branch, it was dark. Ryan called Mina and asked if she could stay a bit later at the shop, to film the interview for Coast Roast. Ryan would be in front of the camera, this time.

“You don’t have to do a video for me,” he said as they wandered back through the Christmas market. “I understand you wanting to make amends with other people, but there’s no need for me.”

“I want to,” Fred reassured him. “I want everyone to see what a great business you have. And besides, you’re supplying us with cracker gifts; that makes you a part of Hallow-Hart Crackers, so you must be on our socials.”

“Okay, well, thank you, it can only be good for business, especially if my customers have seen Warren’s article. But we don’t need to do it right now. You’re already going to be burning the midnight oil if you want to get the first video edited and uploaded tonight. We can do it tomorrow.”

“No, I want to do it now.” Fred was adamant. “I’m on a roll, I feel inspired and buzzy, and I don’t want to lose it. Unless you’re too tired? We have been at this all day.”

Ryan laughed. “Oh, I can match your stamina, Hallow-Hart, don’t you worry about me.”

He pulled her in for a side hug as they walked.

A fair few people did double takes at the sight of an elf wandering down the street.

London Fred wouldn’t have been seen dead in this getup, she’d have been mortified at the idea of standing out in the crowd, but Pine Bluff Fred was a force to be reckoned with.

Plus, she was feeling like there were far worse things than looking a little silly.

So, when people stared, she smiled right at them and said, “I work for Father Christmas, he’s got a grotto just down the high street, past the candy cane Christmas tree. All profits go to charity.”

“You are a one-woman advertising machine,” said Ryan, smiling as a couple with two children thanked her and hurried off in the direction of the grotto.

“Oh, I am just getting started,” Fred replied, grinning back at him.

—

Mina did an admirable job as camerawoman.

It was a pity the same couldn’t be said for her two lead actors.

Ryan and Fred consistently crumpled into giggles, to the point where they couldn’t even look at each other, and even then, just the notion that the other might be glancing their way was enough to completely derail a take.

“If this is what the two of you were like at school, it’s no wonder you were always in detention,” Mina scolded after a fifth try at the question “What first got you into coffee?” which, despite not being remotely funny, was enough to have them both curled up and squealing with laughter.

At last, after twenty or more tries, and Mina threatening to resign, Fred had her video.

“I’ll drive you home,” said Ryan, after Mina had left and they’d locked up the shop.

“No need, Mum just messaged, she’s left Liam at the pub, and she’ll swing by and get me on her way home.”

“I’m not going to argue. I don’t know about you, but I’m knackered. Early bath and bed for me, I think.”

He pulled her close and kissed her, and she allowed her body to mold against him. When they came up for air, he continued to hold her close. “I didn’t realize how much I missed laughing with you until you came back.”

“I don’t think I’ve laughed like that since I left,” she said, feeling contented in his arms.

“I’m glad we still have that effect on each other. It was always so easy, being with you—you are the bangers to my mash.”

“Why am I the sausage?” She frowned.

“Because I am smooth and soft like mashed potato, and you have a tough outer layer and a peppery temperament like a Cumberland sausage.”

She nodded, smiling. “Fair.”

“Nobody’s ever got me like you do,” Ryan said, looking searchingly into her eyes.

Sixteen-year-old Fred could never have envisaged how good it would feel to finally be held like a lover in Ryan Frost’s arms. Despite her tiredness she found herself enlivened by her enduring feelings, suffused with pleasure at being this close to him.

“Making me feel warm and happy was always your particular skill,” she said, almost dreamily.

“I’ll be your own personal sunbeam for as long as you like,” he whispered, before pressing his lips to hers once more.

—

The drive home was quiet, with both Fred and her mum in contemplative moods.

“You know, Liam doesn’t have to stay at the inn,” said Fred, when they’d pulled up outside the house. The decorations twinkling and flashing all over the garden resembled a fairground; all that was missing was a Hook a Turkey stall.

“Oh,” said Bella. “I didn’t know if…”

“It’s not like you haven’t had sleepovers before—hundreds and hundreds of sleepovers…” Fred grinned at her, and winked.

Bella snorted and nudged her. “Rude!”

Fred laughed. “But seriously, you and Liam have spent enough time apart. I don’t doubt that he’ll be moving in, sooner rather than later, so why is he sleeping at the pub and not here with you?”

“Are you sure?”

“Not that it should matter what I think—because this is your house—but if you need my approval, then you have it, in spades. Stop sneaking around like a couple of teenagers, and get him to stay here.”

“Thanks, darling. I will.”

“Good. Now let’s get inside. I need the aunts to make me some sort of rocket fuel cocktail, to get me through editing the first video.

I am determined to get it uploaded by morning, if it kills me.

If I don’t get my name off that Naughty List, I’m looking at a stocking full of coal come Christmas morning! ”