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‘I’m sure I can assist with the turkey and chestnuts, and you know the rest of the village will throw themselves all in to help. What’s the worst that could happen?’

‘A fire?’

‘We’ll have no naked flames, and probably at least one off-duty firefighter, if Daniel and Tommaso get their way.’

‘Christmas cookie fingers all over my books?’

‘Napkins. And most people will buy their books before reading them – apart from Mrs Jingleman. What feels most important to you about the day?’

She took a deep breath as she pondered it. ‘Smiles. Laughter. Bringing people together. Sharing a love for food and stories. The magical joy of Christmas which you can feel but not quite explain. That sense of family which extends beyond blood relations and cultures and beliefs. The message that everyone is welcome in our quirky little village and in my bookshop.’

‘Then it sounds like the more chaos, the merrier. From my experience of being in a humungous family, I’d say forget about perfection and embrace the wildness. You will be bringing people together. There will be all manner of food and fun. And whatever happens, people will come away with memories and a sense they belong somewhere. You’re doing a good thing, Noémi. Nobody cares about seating or schedules. Though do I sense there’s something else troubling you?’

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut so that tears didn’t fall. Gosh, he was good. ‘This last big event will be my final chance to save our precious bookshop. Yes, I’ll be collecting for charity. But I really hope people will be book shopping too. I know that might sound selfish, but the shop is my mum’s life’s work – and she entrusted it to me. It’s my Wildcat Island. The only home I’ve ever known, filled with memories and tales and small pieces of my heart. And I like to think of it as a haven for others too. Somewhere to get lost in stories, to live other lives, to find like-minded souls. I can’t see it fail as a bookshop and be turned into yet another nail bar or fried-chicken takeaway.’

‘Woah there, you are extremely far from selfish.’

She dared to open one eye.

‘And as for fancy nails beating the double dopamine joy of books and freshly baked goodness, it’s never going to happen. You’re creating some kind of magic in your newly reimagined shop. And you’ve put so much love and energy into it, I doubt three thousand flocks of fried-poultry joints would have a patch on you. Even if they offered free avocado cookies.’

Noémi opened her other eye and let out a laugh that sounded more like a snort. ‘Here’s hoping.’

And they both raised their glasses to that.

Chapter 45

‘Thank you for today,’ Noémi breathed into Shay’s neck as she lay snuggled next to him in the cosy bed at the back of Ethel the van. It was the world’s smallest home, but he’d made the most of it – complete with tinsel and the tiniest Christmas tree. ‘It’s been … superb-u-lous. Tremend-icent.’

After more whizzing around in circles on the ice and a few, stronger-than-expected boozy hot chocolates that evening, she wasn’t quite sure those were words. But they ought to have been. Because her away-from-home adventure with Shay had been all of that and more. Now she could drape herself over him – in her fluffy candy-striped pyjamas, which she’d wisely packed alongside her toothbrush, because she’d always hoped they’d stay. Shay was wearing nothing but flimsy boxers which made her want to pull back the covers and climb on him, if only the electric blanket wasn’t so deliciously warm.

‘You’re welcome,’ he said with a gentle laugh, his breath like peppermint creams.

He had one arm around her, her head lying on the strongest, smoothest chest she’d ever had the joy of using as a pillow. At least her leading him astray with the odd Christmas cookie or Welsh breakfast indulgence hadn’t ruined him.

‘Maybe the best is yet to come,’ she said sleepily, running her hand up his toned stomach and back down again, letting her fingers settle on the soft, downy hair beneath his belly button. Mmm.

She loved the way his breath hitched, and how he tried to hide a groan with a little cough. He wriggled as though there were parts of himself that he needed to rearrange for decency. She hoped he wouldn’t spend all night being quite so decent.

‘You’ve had a few drinks,’ he explained. ‘Maybe we should take it easy.’

‘I liked you before I decided to have some Baileys in my drink. And I’ve had the most brilli-ful day.’

‘You mentioned.’ He laughed again and stroked her hair.

He really was good at that. Warm hands. Slow but confident. She pulled his other one under the covers and rested it in the dip of her waist, on the bare flesh beneath her PJs. Now it was her turn to steady her breathing as his thumb gently rubbed her hip. Her eyelids fluttered closed with the simple pleasure of it. He knew how to make something chaste feel like everything.

‘You seemed worried about something when we arrived,’ he said cautiously. ‘Are you feeling better about that now? There’s no need to explain, I just want to make sure …’

‘Daniel’s late husband,’ she said, her eyes slowly opening. ‘Asher. Did he tell you?’

Shay shook his head, his forehead creasing.

‘There was an accident, a couple of Decembers ago. There was a cliff.’ She nodded her head in the vague direction of the sea, somewhere far beyond where they lay. ‘He slipped. He … didn’t make it.’ She managed to choke out the last words. It was something she rarely talked about, but with Shay – and perhaps a touch of Irish-cream courage – her tangled thoughts were unknotting.

‘I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine.’ Shay turned on his side to face her, his eyes serious. His hand moved from her hip to her face, gently cupping it. ‘What a thing for you both to go through. At this time of year too.’

‘It was Daniel’s loss,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m not trying to claim it. But watching Daniel go through that – losing his deepest love – it was almost unbearable. The sombre winter funeral of a man who died too young. The devastatingly bleak Christmas. The months of sleepless, wretched, tear-soaked nights as I tried to comfort Daniel, not knowing what the hell to say because I couldn’t do a thing to make it better. It was soul-destroying.’ And it was another reason she couldn’t stand to lose the bookshop this season. The thought of making her best friend jobless and miserable for Christmas made her gut contort.