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‘It’s not just about going up and down a hill, any more than reading a book is about plodding through the pages. It’s the experience. The way it makes you feel. And more importantly, we have snowshoes.’ Shay beamed as he held up two pairs of shoes that looked like mini surf boards, only with various gaps and straps. He also had a backpack filled with who knew what, and some funny walking poles.

Noémi couldn’t help feeling cold, nervous, and particularly silly – none of which she ever suffered with from the comfort of her armchair. She gave a longing look over her shoulder at the patchwork chair in her shop window, now draped in tinsel, her current read quietly resting on it. She was in the middle of a lovely scene about …

Daniel tapped her shoulder.

‘Earth to Noémi. You are not giving up on real life today in favour of reading about someone else’s fun. It’s your turn.’

‘Not to mention this little stunt will be great for business around here,’ said Tommaso, taking photos with his phone.

‘When we get back to the top, I have a surprise for you,’ Shay said cheerily.

Noémi looked down at her outfit. ‘Because dressing me up as the Snowman to climb a slippery hill in ludicrous shoes isn’t surprising enough?’

‘Trust me, you’re going to love it.’

She wouldn’t. But if she could get through this, she might relish the payback of watching him read 1,500 pages of Les Misérables, or something equally trying.

‘So, you’re testing whether real-life adventures are better than fictional ones?’ asked Catherine, who’d come out of the craft shop for a nosy and was crocheting an elf’s eyeball as they spoke.

‘Team books!’ said Betty Boo with the blue hair, who’d been dropping into the bookshop a lot since the clean-up, buying Christmas gifts on her way to drink Chai’s lattes.

‘I’m just here for the Hottie Totty,’ Carrie Hot Spoons said to Spirit, who was hugging a black coffee and looking yearningly at her plant shop, as though all of this was too much. ‘Though why is he wearing odd socks over his ears?’

‘He’s the Snowdog from that film,’ said Catherine.

‘They’re also books,’ said Spirit absently, huddling further into her bomber jacket. ‘My nan used to show me The Snowman picture book every Christmas. No words. Just imagining that anything was possible. Believing you could fly.’ She fiddled with the butterfly pendant on her bracelet before swiftly adding ‘Or whatever.’

‘I have a first edition in the bookshop,’ Noémi said gently. ‘Come and look at it, any time.’ She didn’t know much about Spirit, who often stayed quiet. Though every time she spoke, Noémi liked her a little more.

‘Thanks,’ said Spirit. ‘And I might come to your book club, if the book choice isn’t terrible. I should read more.’

Noémi’s heart felt instantly warmer. Because it wasn’t just about coach trips of customers clamouring for books – although that would be vastly appreciated, if they were going to save the shop and their livelihoods. It was about making a small difference to people’s worlds.

‘It’s time to go,’ said Shay, before she had time to get too philosophical.

And with a few waves and good luck wishes, they were off. Noémi was relieved to see they were heading into the more wooded area of the hill, away from prying eyes, before it was time to grapple with sticks and snowshoes.

Chapter 29

Shay threw waterproof sheeting over a rock so Noémi could sit to put her snowshoes on without getting a wet patch on her bum.

‘They strap on a bit like ice-skates,’ she mused. Not that she’d been to one of those Christmassy outdoor skating rinks for years. ‘So, just a gentle walk in the snow?’

When she was ready, she allowed Shay to pull her to a standing position.

At least the snow wasn’t falling right then, so she could worry less about frostbitten cheeks or getting buried by fresh layers.

Their gloved hands stayed intertwined for just a moment longer than she was expecting as he held her gaze, his eyes full of an extra level of twinkle in the snow. She wasn’t sure if it was possible to feel his body heat through so many layers of insulation, or to feel his gaze oh so slightly thawing her again, like she was actually the Snowman.

‘Probably,’ he replied, his face animated.

She had no idea how it was possible to keep up his look of child-like wonder with all that facial hair and a chiselled face that Mills & Boon readers would swoon over.

Do not swoon.

She shook her head.

‘That’s the thing about real-life adventures. You never know.’ He handed her a pair of walking poles, and they began to pace, she discreetly watching his movements so she could mimic them.