and their mum had let out a wail from behind the door.
And Scarlett hadn’t cared. She’d wanted her mother to suffer. How could she have done this to the family? To her father? To her?
She’d had to get away, knocking back a full glass of fizz as she went. What a mess, what a horrible mess. She had only just begun to get over her split from her boyfriend, Rafa, and she’d thought she could at least rely on her family for some solace and fun. More importantly, she’d wanted so much to make them happy, to give them something that showed how much she cared for them and appreciated the bond they shared.
Now it had all been blown to smithereens and some of the people she’d thought she knew and loved were strangers to her. Worse, some of them seemed to blame her for what had happened, as if she was the one who’d lied and cheated and lobbed a bomb into the family.
While the smoke alarm shrieked and her siblings argued in the kitchen, she’d slipped through the French windows into the grounds of Seaholly Manor. The cold had snatched her breath away and the sleet had felt like needles on her face, but she hadn’t cared.
She’d fled up the lane, her party dress soaked within minutes, praying no one came after her. Her lungs were bursting by the time she reached the main road. A pick-up truck had passed her, slowing briefly before speeding up again when the driver saw a wet madwoman in a party dress and bunny slippers rushing down the hill into Porthmellow.
She’d been shivering uncontrollably by the time she reached the harbour, its Christmas lights twinkling through the grey haze of a winter noon. That’s when she truly clocked that she might be in danger of hypothermia and that bunny slippers, a party dress and a stomach full of twiglets and Prosecco might not be the best protection against the worst the Atlantic could throw at her.
Reluctantly, she’d realised that the only thing to do was get to a pub or restaurant and call Ellie and ask her to walk down with some dry clothes and meet her … she hadn’t taken her bag or her phone, so she’d have to beg someone to let her use their landline. She wouldn’t call her mother; she couldn’t bear to speak to her – and as for her father, how could she ever face him again?
‘How’s your knee, my maid?’ Evie’s voice reached her. It was gentle and soft, the voice of a mother to her daughter, and triggered a fresh wave of despair at what she’d lost.
Her gaze fell upon the red and bleeding skin beneath the hole in her tights.
Oh yes, she’d stumbled on the cobbles by the Fisherman’s Institute. Just like when she was little and had tumbled, it hadn’t truly hurt until someone had tried to comfort her. Now, it throbbed like mad. Everything had begun to hurt as the numbness thawed, her senses came back to life and the awful realisation of what had happened back at the manor hit her.
The gift – from Scarlett and her older sister, Ellie – was supposed to be the perfect present to her family. It was meant to fill their faces with delight and joy, not pain and anger.
She stared back at Troy, Sam, Evie and Jude, and the blur of faces behind them.
Evie patted her hand. ‘Do you even know who you are, my maid?’
‘I thought I did,’ said Scarlett. ‘But I don’t any more.’
Two hours earlier Seaholly Manor, Porthmellow
Scarlett took a moment to scan the sitting room at Seaholly Manor. Everything was running like clockwork. The floor was a sea of wrapping paper and packaging, coffee cups and champagne flutes, some containing the dregs of the Buck’s Fizz they’d sipped while opening their presents.
The past few months of careful planning alongside Ellie were about to pay off.
Ellie appeared by Scarlett’s side, a laptop in her arms. ‘Auntie Joan would have approved, don’t you think?’ she murmured.
‘Definitely,’ Scarlett replied, taking the laptop from Ellie.
‘I’ll get us a drink while we set up.’
Ellie went into the kitchen and Scarlett connected her laptop into the TV. A ripple of excitement ran through her. Their plan to have the perfect family Christmas at Seaholly Manor was all going according to plan and yes, Great Aunt Joan would surely have been proud of them. Sadly, she’d passed away in the summer, but Scarlett felt that the Lathams were honouring her memory in the best possible way by gathering at Joan’s home for a couple of weeks.
Joan had been a very successful and flamboyant romance novelist, whose bestselling books had enabled her to buy the eighteenth-century manor in the sixties. She had loved company and was legendary for her parties, held in the lush gardens or on the beach at the bottom of Seaholly Cove. It was Joan who’d left the house to Scarlett’s mother, Anna.
Scarlett, her parents, Marcus and his family all lived within ten miles of each other in Birmingham, although their busy lives meant they didn’t get together as often as they probably ought to. As a rule, their father wasn’t a great one for parties but he’d always been happy to make the journey to Cornwall to spend the holidays with his family.
Scarlett was also particularly looking forward to enjoying some time with her sister, who at thirty-eight was six years her senior. After spending most of her life travelling all over the world while working in bars and cafés, Ellie had moved into the manor in the early autumn as ‘caretaker’. Scarlett was amazed how quickly she’d settled into Porthmellow life after her globetrotting lifestyle. Since returning to the UK, Ellie had found work as ship’s cook with Porthmellow Sailing Trust and helped out at the Harbour Café.
The previous year had brought big changes for Scarlett too, and not in a happy way. She’d broken up with her ex, Rafa, which had knocked her confidence where dating was concerned, and she hadn’t dated anyone since. The split was followed by the loss of a major client from the freelance copywriting business she’d built up over the past few years. Scarlett had written the copy for a large engineering company who made all kinds of screws and fasteners, and while it was hardly glamorous, they gave her a lot of work, from their website to press releases. However the company had been taken over by a giant American corporation who’d made lots of people redundant and slashed their budget, meaning she was having to fight hard to find new business in very uncertain times.
So she was trying hard to stay positive that New Year and a happy Christmas, surrounded by the family she loved, would kick off the fresh start.
Ellie walked in from the kitchen, a grin on her freckled face. ‘Woo hoo! I’ve got a surprise for you.’
She handed Scarlett a glass of something that looked like a Minion who had been put through the blender. ‘Here you go. Have a sniff of this.’
Scarlett wrinkled her nose. ‘What is it?’
‘Heidi’s homemade eggnog,’ said Ellie.
‘Heidi made eggnog?’ Scarlett exclaimed.
‘Shh, she might hear you,’ Ellie said, smirking all the same.
‘I’m just amazed that Healthy Heidi
