New Beginnings by Fern Britton

Author:Fern Britton [Britton, Fern]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780007362707
Google: ObL84zOcGxQC
Amazon: 0007362706
Publisher: Harper
Published: 2011-03-17T00:00:00+00:00

*

The next morning, Christie lay in bed, half dozing while a cup of tea grew cold on her bedside table. Mel had put it there, then given her a chance to have a much-needed lie-in by taking the children into town to get some last-minute bits and pieces. She went over the previous evening. Richard hadn’t hung around, saying he was sure they had plenty to catch up on without needing him there. But when she finally had Mel to herself, Christie couldn’t bring herself to ask her what was going on between them. Apart from not wanting to spoil the mood, she found she didn’t want to know the answer. Instead she listened to Mel’s adventures in the Caribbean, which mostly revolved around her affair with the photographer, and in turn regaled her with stories from work, interviews she’d done, her growing friendship with Frank and Sam and, of course, the night in Rillingham. Mel had listened with a mixture of astonishment and delight on her face. When Christie finished, she put her arms round her and nearly squeezed her to death. ‘What an amazing guy! It’s the best thing you could have done. You don’t really fancy him, though, do you?’

‘No,’ she said decisively, not even having to think about her answer.

‘Pity,’ Mel murmured. ‘Imagine the headlines.’ She dodged, laughing, as her sister had tried to push her off the sofa.

Christie stretched, revelling in the warmth of the duvet but bracing herself for the moment when she would have to get up. She pushed herself up against the pillows, keeping the duvet as close to her chin as she could, then inched her left arm out into the cold to pick up the mug. She’d hoped to have the central-heating in by now, courtesy of Drink-a-Vit, but thanks to the delay in payment, she’d only been able to afford to get the conservatory windows and the chimney done. The up-side of that was that the sitting-room fire drew beautifully now, no longer smoking and exacerbating her mother’s theatrical cough. The down-side was that, although she was hardly skint, she still didn’t have money to burn – at least, not until she’d paid off more of Nick’s bloody loan. Around her, the house was silent. She sighed, contented. No one was there to demand anything of her. The mile-long list of self-inflicted Christmas chores could wait for another couple of minutes, she told herself, screwing up her nose at the taste of the tea. No sugar. Downstairs, the phone was ringing. She ignored it. The only reason she had to leave the house today was to collect the silver tabby kitten she was giving Libby. She hugged herself with pleasure, imagining Libby’s face when she saw it. With that, and everything else she had in store, this Christmas would be perfect.

Mel had left The Times and the News on the bed beside her. She idly opened the News, thanking God she no longer had to write for them. Of

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