(Oh, and item # 3 is what the title of theSnow Globesequel should be. We’re not going to be starting on that until I’ve finished writing the book I started as a ghostwriter, but will be finishing under my own name, though: my first real novel. And hopefully not the last.)
But there’s plenty of time for all of that.
For now, we have to get dressed and head out into the snow. We have Christmas dinner to eat, Dad’s ‘good’ champagne to drink, and a long conversation to be had with him about the fact that I’m probably not going to be working at the books store any more; although I somehow think that particular bit’s going to be a lot easier than it was the first time, considering that he was planning to call Paris as soon as he was done with Levi, to offer her my job.
It would be fair to say that a lot has changed since the last time Elliot and I were together.
It would also be fair to say that there are even more changes to come; some of them exciting, but some of them low key petrifying, as Paris would say.
“I never thought I’d say it,” I tell Elliot as we wrap ourselves up in coats and scarves, ready to brave the walk to Dad’s place. “But I think I would miss it here if I left for good. I know that’s all I’ve ever talked about since I was young, but, I don’t know. It’s like, I still want to see the world, but…”
“But this will always be home?” Elliot finishes for me. “That makes sense. It’s a pretty cool place. I loved it too, from the moment I got here. But I guess that’s the beauty of having a job that doesn’t tie you to a particular place. You can move around. Try out different places for size. And you can do it knowing you can always come home if you want to. It’ll always be here for you.”
“The best of both worlds,” I reply, thinking of the two snow globes, which are currently sitting side by side on the mantelpiece in my living room. “I like the sound of that.”
I take his hand, and we step out together into the snow.
"Oh, I forgot to mention," I tell him, breathing in the sharp, December air. "When I was talking to Dad earlier he said he'd been speaking to Martin's mum, and she told him Martin'sleaving town after Christmas. It was a very sudden decision, apparently. She didn't know quite what to make of it."
"Um, I think I might know something about that," Elliot replies, his cheeks reddening slightly. "I, er, might have popped in to see him yesterday morning. Not long before you did, in fact."
"Really? What did you say to him?"
I glance up at him curiously, trying to imagine mild-mannered Elliot confronting Martin, and running him out of town. It doesn't seem possible. And yet…
"Well, let's just say I'm not surprised he decided to leave," says Elliot grimly. "I can be rather … persuasive … when I want to be."
"Right. Well, whatever you said, it obviously did the trick," I say, impressed by this new, commanding version of the man who was once too scared to tell his dad he didn't want to join the family business. "At least we won't have to worry about bumping into him around town now."
"Exactly."
Elliot squeezes my hand, and we make our way cautiously down the hill.
“We’re definitely getting a Christmas tree next year,” I say as the village square comes into view, the decorated tree rising up in the middle of it.
“Not a sad little raggedy one like last time, though?” replies Elliot, with a grin.
“Oh, definitely a sad little raggedy one. I’m going to get the most unloved tree on the farm. And then I’m going to decorate it to the nines, and cover it with lights, until it’s the happiest little Christmas tree in all the land.”
“That’s quite the turnaround,” laughs Elliot. “Maybe we’ll make a Christmas person of you yet.”
“Maybe we will,” I reply, grinning as I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him in front of the once-hated plastic snow globe that nowdeserves its very own brass plaque declaring it the spot of Holly and Elliot’ssecondfirst kiss. “I really think I’m starting to like it. I have to admit, it’s pretty romantic, really.”
“They certainly seem to think so,” says Elliot, nodding in the direction of a young couple who’ve just appeared from the direction of the bookstore. As we watch, the man reaches out to take his partner's hand, and …
“Oh my God.”
“Isn’t that …?”
Elliot and I watch in astonishment as Levi and Paris go strolling off together, pausing only so that Levi can aim a quick kick at the wheel of Martin's parked car as he walks past it.
“Okay, nowthat’sa Christmas miracle,” I say, once I’ve regained the power of speech. “And here was I thinking Dad and Elsie would be the biggest plot twist of the day. Or of mylife, really.”
“It’s a real enemies-to-lovers arc,” agrees Elliot. “We should make a note of it for the book after the Snow Globe sequel.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, actually,” I tell him as we resume our walk towards the house Dad bought when he moved out of the flat and rented it to Paris. (And also Levi, it would now appear. No, I’m definitely going to need alotmore time to get used to this…) “The next book. I was thinking I’d like to write about Mum. I don’t know what, yet, but she was a bookworm, like me. She would have loved the idea of being part of a story.”
Elliot looks down at me, his eyes soft.
