Clara at Christmas (Clara Andrews Series - Book 4)

  Clara

  at

  Christmas

  Copyright © 2015 by Stacey Cartlidge

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  December 1st

  December 2nd

  December 3rd

  December 4th

  December 5th

  December 6th

  December 7th

  December 8th

  December 9th

  December 10th

  December 11th

  December 12th

  December 13th

  December 14th

  December 15th

  December 16th

  December 17th

  December 18th

  December 19th

  December 20th

  December 21st

  December 22nd

  December 23rd

  December 24th

  December 25th

  For my better half.

  Dear Santa,

  All I want for Christmas is a fat wallet and a skinny waist.

  Please don’t get them mixed up again like you did last year...

  December 1st

  Stupid mittens. How are you supposed to grasp anything when your hands have been made into makeshift crab claws? Fumbling around in my bag for some cash, I allow my nostrils to lead me towards the delicious smell of hot mince pies. Tearing off a mitten with my teeth like a hungry penguin, I exchange a handful of coins for a steaming pie and lick my lips as the vendor spoons on a huge dollop of brandy cream. Nothing quite says Christmas like a good old mince pie.

  Trudging through the cold snow, I sink my teeth into the delicious golden pastry. The sun has only just set and I have already consumed a ridiculous number of calories. My Starbucks Gingerbread Latte alone must have contained my entire daily allowance. Just thinking of those yummy red cups makes my mouth water uncontrollably. It just isn’t Christmas without a Starbucks special, is it? Wiping sticky crumbs off my chin, I narrowly avoid knocking over a freshly built snowman. Who the hell builds a snowman in the middle of a busy shopping centre? Ignoring the cries of annoyed children, I flash their parents an apologetic smile as they hurriedly try to replace the carrot nose. I think it is safe to say that my maternal instincts haven’t kicked in just yet.

  The twinkling fairy lights that hang overhead provide a dazzling rainbow in the dark sky for the hoards of people that are buzzing along the busy street. It’s almost like a festive firework display, signalling to the world that the Christmas period has arrived. I look up and smile at the giant flashing baubles that are draped in the bare trees which line the pavement. It would appear that the festive season is well and truly upon us. Frosty snowflakes land on my nose as I devour the last of my yummy treat. I love Christmas. The glistening decorations, the indulgent food and the one too many glasses of vino. I just love everything about it. I always have. Ever since I was a child and would peek down the stairs to see if Rudolf had been for his milk and cookies. I still get that buzz of excitement going to bed on Christmas Eve, even though I know the only fat man with rosy cheeks I will be seeing is my sleazy uncle.

  Weaving between the crowds of avid shoppers, I clutch my handbag tightly to my chest. We haven’t even put our tree up yet and already people are fighting over the latest gizmos and gadgets. I wonder what must have gifts are causing people to go crazy this year. I remember when my dad camped outside Argos on a cold December night because I just had to have a Tamagotchi. Stopping to peer into a frosty shop window, I rack my brains for the ideal gift to get my new husband for Christmas. Somehow, I don’t think he would appreciate a hand held digital pet.

  As this is our first Christmas together as man and wife I want to get him something extra special, but what exactly do you buy for the man who has everything? Yet more golf clubs? A watch to add to his ever expanding collection? Perhaps another pair of cuff links to toss in the drawer along with the hundreds of others? Men are difficult to buy for at the best of times, but when you are married to a rich fashion designer it makes the task of shopping that little bit more demanding. Not that I am complaining, being married to a gorgeous American designer is kind of fabulous, even if I do say so myself.

  Dragging myself away from the window, I heave my heavy handbag up onto my shoulder and carry on walking. My precious Hunter wellies make trekking in the terrible weather just about bearable. Slushy snow provides an icy blanket for the pavement, resulting in people doing a half walk, half twerk manoeuvre to stop them from losing their balance. Even though I opened the first window of my advent calendar this morning, I really can’t believe that it’s December already. It still feels like only yesterday that I was walking down the aisle. It’s hard to imagine that it has been almost a year now. Just thinking back to my wedding day makes my stomach flutter uncontrollably. Sometimes I forget that I am really married. I, Clara Andrews, sorry, Clara Morgan am actually someone’s wife. Before we said I do, I never thought that it would feel any different once I got that platinum band on my finger, but knowing that Oliver chose me over every other girl on the planet is the best feeling in the world. There really is something to be said about putting a ring on it.

  Pulling my bobble hat over my cold ears, I push my way inside Debenhams and dig out my shopping list. Oliver’s gift isn’t the only thing that I’ve got to worry about this year as we have invited his parents to join us from Texas and now my own parents have decided to join us too. And let’s not forget Lianna, my best friend who is having an early mid-life crisis at the prospect of turning thirty single and homeless. With having a houseful to entertain, it’s fair to say that I am a little apprehensive at being the hostess. Let’s face it, the closest I’ve ever come to hosting the perfect dinner party is ordering a few take out pizzas on a Friday evening and opening a bottle of red.

  Telling myself that everything will be OK, I pick up a pair of feather mules and drop them into my basket. Now, you might think that a sexy pair of pink stilettos is a strange gift for my mother-in-law, but I know that Janie will absolutely love these. Making my way over to the home ware section, I turn back and toss in another pair of the fluffy slippers. On second thoughts, I should probably get some for my own mother too. I really don’t want handbags at dawn on Christmas morning. If you would have told me twelve months ago that I would be buying my mum gifts from the erotic lingerie section, I never would have believed you. Oh, how much can change in the space of one short year.

  Stepping onto the escalator, I peer over the railing at the queue of overly excited children waiting to see Father Christmas. Proud parents click away with their cameras, desperate not to miss the obligatory tell Santa what you would like for Christmas shot. I let out a little snort as a tiny toddler stamps on an elf’s foot and laughs hysterically when she shouts out in pain. It really is the most wonderful time of the year.

  * * *

  Pushing my way into the apartment, I drop my mountain of shopping bags onto the dining table and attempt to kick off my wellies. The ear piercing screams that are drifting out of the living room can only mean one thing - The Strokers are here. Rubbing my hands together for warmth, I pad across the plush carpet and stretch my mouth into a smile. Oliver and Lianna aside, The Strokers are close contenders for my favourite people in the world. For those of you who don’t know, Marc Stroker has been one of my closest friends for many years now. I still find it a little strange to see him with a wedding band
on his finger and two babies in tow. However, I am the first person to admit that Gina, Madison and MJ are the best things that ever happened to him.

  ‘Look at you!’ Holding out my arms, I bend down and scoop up a jubilant Madison, who is happily tearing around the living room in a Cinderella costume.

  She might only be a toddler, but Madison is already a mini Gina in the making. Her love for anything pink and sparkly has been apparent since day one and last week I’m sure that I heard her say leopard print. Madison’s cheeks turn pink with glee as I throw her up in the air. One thing’s for sure, Marc’s black curls combined with Gina’s big green eyes make for one very beautiful baby. Sticking my head into MJ’s car seat, I stroke his red face gently. Unlike Madison, Marc Junior does not look happy.

  ‘I think someone’s hungry.’ Gina coos, picking up the screaming baby and nuzzling his tiny nose.

  ‘Awwh! He’s getting so big.’ Passing Madison over to Marc, I collapse into a heap on the couch. ‘Where’s Oliver?’

  ‘He went to get pizza.’ Marc replies, in-between blowing raspberries on Madison’s stomach.

  ‘Great! I’m starving. I haven’t eaten a thing all day.’ I lie, trying to erase the mince pie from my memory.

  ‘How was the shopping?’ He asks. ‘I don’t envy you braving the shops in this weather.’

  ‘It was crazy. Everywhere was so cold and busy. I think I got the majority of things though. This year I am determined not to leave it to the last minute like I normally do.’ Trying not to look as Gina whips out a humongous boob and starts to feed a hungry MJ, I turn to face Marc. ‘Have you made a start on your Christmas plans yet?’

  ‘We’re actually thinking of going to see Gina’s parents this year. They haven’t seen MJ yet and Gina’s still on maternity leave...’

  ‘Australia?’ I raise my eyebrows impressed and try not to feel too envious. ‘Wow!’

  ‘Yeah.’ He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looks down at the ground.

  ‘I’m guessing that barbecues on the beach and kangaroos are going to be a little different to turkey and Brussels sprouts!’ Laughing at the image of Marc wearing a cork hat whilst barbecuing shrimp, I reach for the television remote.

  ‘Just a little.’ Marc agrees. ‘Aren’t you having Lianna over this year?’

  ‘We are.’ I reply. ‘She’s been on a downer ever since Pablo left and between me and you, I don’t think that she’s taking her impending birthday all that well.’ I roll my eyes as Marc nods in agreement.

  ‘I honestly don’t know what the big deal is. I was fine when I turned thirty.’ He shrugs his shoulders and rocks Madison back and forth gently.

  ‘Are you kidding me?’ Gina chips in. ‘When you turned thirty, you wouldn’t get out of bed for a week!’

  ‘I remember!’ I laugh. ‘You had a full on meltdown! I’m just surprised that you didn’t get a Porsche Boxster and a sleeve tattoo.’

  ‘You just wait until you turn thirty, Andrews.’

  ‘Actually, I think you will find it’s Morgan now.’ I flash him my wedding band and stick out my tongue.

  ‘You will always be an Andrews in my eyes.’ Marc passes me Madison as Oliver bursts into the apartment, his arms laden with takeout boxes.

  ‘I got pizza!’ Oliver hollers across the room. ‘Whose hungry?’

  Madison makes a squeal that resembles a happy piglet and rolls off my knee, making a beeline for the pizza. A chorus of cheers echo around the room as we all give in to the lure of greasy junk food. Tearing a sleepy MJ away from her chest, Gina slips him into a baby sling and takes a seat at the kitchen island. I watch proudly as Oliver dresses the table with plates, cutlery and glasses. He has slotted into the role of hubby perfectly.

  ‘Hi.’ I smile, accepting a plate of pizza. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Extremely cold!’ He replies, shaking off his damp coat and pulling me in for a kiss. ‘Successful shopping trip?’

  Nodding in response, I take a seat at the table and smile as Marc carefully tears Madison’s pizza up into bite sized pieces. Thankfully, MJ has drifted off into a milk induced sleep meaning that we can all enjoy our dinner in peace. Diving into my pizza, I take a huge bite and sit back in my seat, savouring the cheesy goodness. I still find it hard to believe how much we have all grown up. It’s strange to think that Marc and Gina have two adorable children and Oliver and I have tied the knot. Kind of ironic when Li has always been the one of the group who knew exactly what she wanted out of life. No wonder she feels so down at the moment. It’s such a shame that she is yet to find her happily ever after.

  To say that Lianna has been dealt a bad hand in the love department would be an understatement. With her 30th birthday just two weeks away, Li has been rather hysterical about hitting the major milestone without a significant other to celebrate with. For the past couple of years she had been on and off with the infamous Dan. This finally came to an end when the delightful Dan was caught in a rather compromising position with one of Oliver’s cousins. Lianna was devastated by his betrayal and it took six months of fun in the sun with the gorgeous Pablo for her to get over Dan once and for all. Sadly for Li, Pablo decided to call it a day a few weeks ago and returned to his homeland of Tenerife. I would like to say that no one saw the demise of Pablo coming, but when do holiday romances ever really work out?

  I cross my legs and think back to all the times that Li has been there for me over the years. The role of wife might be one that seems impossible to her, but she has always excelled in her role as best friend. Taking another bite of my pizza, I decide that 2016 is going to be Lianna’s year and it all starts with a fantastic Christmas...

  When someone asks,

  ‘Where is your Christmas spirit?’

  Is it wrong to point to the drinks cabinet?

  December 2nd

  Waking up to the sound of torrential rain battering against the window is strangely soothing. The raindrops are loud and heavy as they thrash to the ground angrily. I peel open an eye and watch in fascination as a strong wind causes the trees outside to shake uncontrollably. Stretching out my legs, I roll over and snuggle into Oliver’s warm back. I just love being tucked up in bed all toasty when the weather is frightful outside.

  A quick glance at my watch reminds me that I am going to meet Lianna in little over an hour. If I had it my way I would stay here all day, but despite the terrible weather, Li has got to find somewhere to live. It was well over six months ago that she and Dan went their separate ways, but due to the unfortunate state of the economy, it has taken them until now to finally get a buyer for the house that they once shared. The real stinker of the situation is that the property sold for far less than they paid for it just a year earlier. Since then, Li has been sofa surfing at her parent’s place and from what she has been telling me, she is starting to wear out her welcome. Shockingly, it turns out that Lianna has been getting over Pablo by getting under various different gentlemen. I can’t say I am surprised that her poor mother has finally had enough.

  Planting a kiss on Oliver’s neck, I throw back the covers and begrudgingly roll out of bed. My feet feel like blocks of ice as I sleepily make my way towards the bathroom. I spend a few minutes washing and brushing before running back into the bedroom to frantically look around for some clothes. After dragging on a pair of skinny jeans and a fluffy jumper, I turn my attention to my face. I really need to apply some fake tan. The harsh December weather has not been kind to my skin at all. Trying to hide the dark circles with masses of Touché Éclat, I apply a quick sweep of blusher before reaching for my beloved UGG boots. When Gina first bought into the UGG craze, I swore blind that I wouldn’t be seen dead in the clumpy eyesores. However, a drunken night at Lianna’s which involved a broken stiletto and some serious hailstone was enough for me to borrow a pair. Since then I have acquired quite the collection and I’m not ashamed to say that they have taken pride of place in my wardrobe. Sorry, Dr Martens!

  Not wanting to wake Oliver I scrawl
out a quick note and stick it to the coffee maker, which is the only place in the entire apartment that I can be totally sure he won’t miss it. With a quick spray of perfume, I toss the essentials into my handbag and make for the door. As I ride down to the ground floor, I pull on a pair of mittens and dig out my umbrella, bracing myself for the cold. Stepping out of the lift into the lobby, I am surprised to see Lianna’s familiar blonde beehive heading for the stairs.

  ‘Li!’ I shout, waving my arms around to gain her attention.

  Stopping midway up the staircase, Lianna spins around and frowns as she tries to pinpoint my voice.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I raise my eyebrows at her choice of outfit as she makes her way over to me. ‘I thought we were meeting at the first property?’

  ‘We were, but Liam drives past this way on his way to work so I told him to drop me outside.’ Trying not to fall in her ridiculously high wedges, she digs a compact mirror out of her handbag and wipes last night’s mascara from under her eyes. I can’t help noticing that she stinks of stale booze.

  ‘Liam?’ I crinkle my nose up in confusion. ‘Who the hell is Liam?’

  ‘Liam.’ Lianna retorts, as if it is totally obvious who Liam is. ‘Liam from last weekend.’

  ‘You mean the creepy guy from the kebab shop on Saturday night?’ My horror is evident in the tone of my voice.

  ‘He was not creepy!’ She laughs loudly and pulls her coat tightly around her.

  ‘You cannot be serious.’ Shaking my head in disgust, I push her outside into the car park.

  ‘Relax, Clara! I’m not going to marry the guy!’ Li rolls her eyes and tops up her lip gloss, totally oblivious to how much this has perturbed me.

  Lianna and I spent last Saturday evening in Lightning, a new cocktail bar in the city centre. One Margarita turned into ten and before we knew it, we were being accosted by a highly intoxicated Welshman in a kebab shop. For some disturbing reason, Li decided to give him her number and even more worryingly, she actually agreed to meet up with him. Beeping open the car, I jump into the driver’s seat and take my TomTom out of the glove compartment.