Christmas at the Little Clock House on the Green: An enchanting and warm-hearted romance full of Christmas cheer. Eve Devon

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Christmas at the Little Clock House on the Green: An enchanting and warm-hearted romance full of Christmas cheer - Eve  Devon

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rel="nofollow" href="#u18748326-d51b-51d0-b478-f1d05f4b2656">The Grandfather of all Clock-Ups

       Kate

      Kate Somersby upended the contents of her handbag over her desk and watched the hundred or so fluorescent pink post-its flutter to the surface like confetti.

      Any moment now she was going to get to grips with the bullet journaling system her cousin, Juliet, raved about.

      Yep … any moment now, she thought, staring down at all the vitally-important, equal-priority To Do notes that had come to her in the early hours of the morning.

      In the meantime, she reasoned, her portable, flexible filing system was practically the same thing only without all the pretty panda stickers.

      Shoving the roll of stickers and the actual bullet journal Juliet had gifted her into the top desk drawer, Kate pulled out her chair and plonked herself down.

      It completely boggled her mind to think that a few months ago she’d been working abroad, pretending she was okay with living out of a suitcase, and now she was back in her home village of Whispers Wood, the proud owner of The Clock House and on schedule to get it open for business before Christmas. Of course, it immediately un-boggled when she thought about the insane number of hours everyone was putting in to keep them on course and ensure it was going to happen.

      Hopefully by the end of the week, Juliet would have her hair-dressing stations in place for Hair @ The Clock House.

      Daniel, Kate’s boyfriend, had nearly finished setting up Hive @ The Clock House, the co-working space he was going to manage, and all the treatment beds, pedi-chairs and nail station tables were arriving today for Beauty @ The Clock House, the day spa that had been her and her twin, Bea’s, dream for so long.

       What do you think, Bea? Is this how you pictured all of this when we used to dream about opening our day spa in this building?

      A swirl of excitement ran head-first into the wall of sorrow that was acknowledgement of Bea’s death and bounced backwards in confusion. She felt the conflict inside her like a cramp and tried to breathe through it.

      And then on a shaky breath she imagined Bea snorting with laughter, and offering a ‘Hey – I’m still trying to get over the fact that you think you’ll get to grips with bullet-journaling,’ and the cramp eased.

      Bea would have loved everything that was happening at The Clock House and she, Kate, was nearly used to not searching for confirmation she was doing the right thing every time she walked through the front doors.

      Feeling steadier, her hands went to open the first of the letters that Sandeep, the postman, had handed her on her way in and her heart started beating faster as she stared at the official-looking envelope. Opening it, she pulled out the crisp formal headed letter paper and halfway through the first paragraph she let out a ‘Whoop’ and twirled in her chair.

      They’d only been given their licence to open Cocktails & Chai in the main reception room opposite Juliet’s salon. The room with its gorgeous, gigantic chandelier was the perfect setting for a tearoom/bar.

      ‘Could this morning get any better?’ she laughed and immediately opened the second envelope.

      ‘No-el, No-el.’

      ‘Wowsers, Kate,’ Juliet shouted up the main staircase of The Clock House. ‘It’s a bit early to be singing Christmas carols, isn’t it?’

      ‘That’s singing?’ asked Oscar, Kate’s brother-in-law who, after being known as The Young Widower of Whispers Wood for years was happily getting used to now being known as Juliet’s boyfriend.

      ‘Someone’s really murdering that carol,’ Daniel commented as he walked into the foyer. Spying the boxes of balance ball chairs that had been delivered, he gave an excited ‘Yes’, and walked over to inspect them.

      ‘That someone is your girlfriend. And if she doesn’t stop I’m not sure I can be held accountable.’ Oscar pointed to the drill he was holding because he was also known as Whispers Wood’s resident builder.

      ‘That’s definitely not singing,’ Daniel said with a frown. ‘I’ve heard her sing. Or have I? That’s really her singing? And what’s with the carols in October? I guess I’m going to need you both to promise me you’ll never fill out an application for The Voice on her behalf.’

      ‘Why would we?’ Oscar asked. ‘Because that’s not singing. In fact, I’m pretty sure Will.I.Am would correctly call it Kitty-Kat Kate Caterwauling.’

      ‘If only she was from Wales,’ Juliet lamented, ‘she might still be in with a shot.’

      ‘We could move the whole of Whispers Wood to Wales and she’d still hurt ears,’ Oscar said. ‘It’s worse than when Melody went through the Frozen sing-a-long sleepover phase and I had to cope with ten five-year-olds thinking that singing mostly involved squealing high enough for dolphins to hear.’ Oscar’s daughter, Melody, had recently had her ninth birthday. She’d been only four when her mother, Bea, had died and Oscar had had to learn fast how to help his daughter through the grieving process while going through it himself.

      ‘Come on, guys,’ Daniel cajoled, ‘let’s cut Kate some slack. She’s under a lot of pressure to get this place ready for the grand opening.’

      ‘No-el, No-el.

      The three of them stared up the stairs.

      ‘Okay,’ Daniel said, rolling up his sleeves, ‘I might just see if I can get her to sing a different carol.’

      ‘Thank you,’ Juliet sighed. ‘Oscar and I appreciate you taking one for the team.’

      Abandoning the yoga ball chairs, Daniel headed for the stairs. ‘Right, then. Off I go.’ He looked at Juliet and Oscar from the third step. ‘Upstairs. To gently explain …’

      ‘We’re right behind you,’ Juliet said, grinning as she made a shooing motion up the stairs.

      Kate looked up as the man who had been rocking her world for months now stepped into her office.

      He’d popped out to get himself a key cut to her place, Myrtle Cottage.

      No big deal – if he’d taken her casual suggestion, and for casual, read, extremely well-rehearsed monologue, at face value.

      Darn.

      It would probably be better, if on his return, he didn’t then immediately see her crying.

      With a big sniff she realised Oscar and Juliet were hovering in the doorway behind him. Two more excellent reasons to pull herself together. Ever since she’d come back to Whispers Wood she’d tried to show Oscar he could trust her to stick around and get involved in her niece, Melody’s, life, and Oscar had tried to show her he didn’t blame her anymore for staying away for so long after Bea had died. But maybe the person who had worked hardest to get them to see each other as family, not enemy, was sweet, kind, heart-as-big-as-a-mountain, Juliet, and the fact that Melody and Oscar looked so happy these days was testament to how much they’d fallen in love with Juliet this summer.

      Looking at the three people who were helping to make

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