Mistletoe and Wine 3

By Maureen Reil

Dear Santa,

I’ve been a good girl all year, especially to my sister who’d made me lose weight before her wedding or I would not have been allowed to attend it. And some people have a strict dress code at their nuptials, but Alice insisted on a strict diet for the bridal party so as not to spoil the pictures by having a ‘fatty’ in the main ones (which were her words not mine, so no offence big guy). I have loved and done my best by my family, my friends and most of all, the special one who shares my soul, my bed (but not at my parents house for they won’t allow it under their roof if we’re not married). And I don’t mean my dog either when I mention bringing me joy beyond my expectations (although he does matter hugely to me) but I speak about the great love of my life, being the one and only Harvey Brands (so do ignore and excuse the happy tear stains on the ink). I’ve included a little wish list if you’d care to look it over and perhaps find it in your generous heart to grant me at least one or two of them, then I would be eternally grateful and believe in the magic of Christmas forever and a day.

1. Please make my sister Alice be nice to me.
2. Please, make this upcoming year the best ever.
3. Please, make the following week dry and bright with cold, not freezing to death weather.
4. Please, make this Christmas/New Year a joyous occasion for everyone I know and respect.
5. Please, make everything turn out perfect if it is going to be my last Christmas at home.
6. Please, make this winter white wedding the stuff of dreams, not nightmares.
7. Please, make my gift a spa retreat, as I need it to relieve the stress of organising a wedding.
8. Please, make wishes 1-6 come true and I can live without the spa date if I really had to.

Thank you for taking the time to read my begging letter. I fully understand why you didn’t bring me a million pounds last time, it was silly of me to think that you’d carry that kind of ready cash on your person to deliver down the chimney (which would make it ‘dirty money’) when everyone knows you only carry toys and presents in that sack. If I really want to win the lottery then I will have to buy a ticket like everyone else I suppose so here is to winning my fortune in the future, cheers.
Yours faithfully,
Molly Compton (age 301⁄3).
XXX

P.S. This is the third and final book in the Christmas Comedy Trilogy of British short novels and comes with warm wishes all round for a Happy Holidays and a peaceful New Year once again. While inviting you to read all about the farcical frivolity of sharing this Yuletide tale with our Molly, family and friends for a funny, fun-filled festivity and together we will be sure to make it one to remember.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maureen Reil
• Release date: Nov 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310831119

Maureen Reil

Maureen Reil writes comic commercial fiction and has had over 35 books published, so far, but she's always working on a new manuscript so she wishes to add to that tally with lots of new titles before she's done and dusted. She was born in the city of Liverpool and resides in semi-rural Lancashire UK, but longs to live by the sea. It was always a dream of hers to become a novelist and thanks to her readers, she has fulfilled that ambition, so she couldn't be more grateful if she tried. And Maureen hopes you enjoying reading her books as much as she enjoys writing them.

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Mistletoe and Wine

3

By Maureen Reil

Copyright ©2013 Maureen Reil

Updated Edition 2021

This eBook is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Maureen Reil asserts the moral right to be identified as the sole author of this work.

Also by the author Maureen Reil

Chick-Lit By Any Other Name (Chick-Lit Collection)

Chick-Lit By Any Other Name 2 (Chick-Lit Collection)

Lily Loves To Love

Sleepyhead Shares A Secret

I Hate Me, Who Do You Hate?

I Did Write What I Know

Chick-Lit Saved My Life (Chick-Lit Trilogy book 1)

Chick-Lit Stole My Life (Chick-Lit Trilogy book 2)

Chick-Lit Staged My Life (Chick-Lit Trilogy book 3)

Chick-Lit Collection

Chick-Lit Trilogy

Mistletoe And Wine (Christmas Comedy Trilogy)

Mistletoe And Wine 2 (Christmas Comedy Trilogy)

Christmas Comedy Trilogy

Let’s Get Married (Let’s Get Funny Fiction)

Let’s Get Together (Let’s Get Funny Fiction)

Let’s Get It Started (Let’s Get Funny Fiction)

Let’s Get Serious (Let’s Get Funny Fiction)

Let’s Get Ready To Rumble (Let’s Get Funny Fiction)

Let’s Get Physical (Let’s Get Funny Fiction)

The Finch Family Short Break (Comical Vacations Book 0)

The Finch Family Holiday 1 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Holiday 2 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Holiday 3 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Holiday 4 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Holiday 5 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Easter Holiday 6 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Bank Holiday 7 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Christmas Holiday 8 (Comical Vacations)

A Granny Is For Life, Not Just Christmas

Let’s Get Funny Fiction 1 (Three-Book Bundle)

Let’s Get Funny Fiction 2 (Three-Book Bundle)

Let’s Get Funny Fiction (Six-Book Box Set)

Comical Vacations 1 (Three-Book Bundle)

Comical Vacations 2 (Three-Book Bundle)

Comical Vacations 3 (Three-Book Bundle)

Christmas Crackers

Wed To The Wrong Wayne

The Desperate Dater’s Intervention

It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

Things Can Only Get Better

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Luck Had Nothing To Do With It

Table of Contents

Christmas Eve

Christmas Day

Boxing Day

New Year’s Eve

New Year’s Day

Dedicated to

R.S.P.B

(Royal Society for the Protection of Birds and please note that none were harmed during the writing of this book)

Christmas Eve

Let me start by saying that I am really looking forward to this Christmas. However, I am also not allowing myself to get too over excited in a way as I hold myself back and restrain from actually jumping up and down in total glee despite the occasion. Because I have been here in this exact position before, do not forget and had my heart broken, my dreams shattered and my faith in true love slightly tarnished forever. Only this time is different, this time will be wonderful and this time the groom will not back out of our wedding at the last minute and run away to sea because I am marrying Harvey who will never let me down unlike Toby (my ex-fiancé). Yes, you did read it correctly and I am not lying or making it up. I am about to be hitched to the best bloke to have ever walked this planet and I might sound a tad biased there but he is not only perfect but also perfect for me and I will make him my husband and hopefully the father of my children in the very near future. We are tying the knot on the second anniversary of when we had first kissed, with that being on New Year’s Day and I cannot wait to become Mrs Harvey Brands for real. I just have to get through Christmas with the family first and if Harvey still wants to marry me after all that then he definitely is, the only man for me.

‘This is going to be your happiest Christmas ever . . . no doubt about that, Molly Compton. So I wish you well with your wedding and all,’ said Miss Potts (my boss and sometime friend and girlfriend of our local pub proprietor) as we left the building where we work together, at midday, in order to head to our vehicles in the car park. We both held up crossed fingers to show that we each had things to wish for this coming holiday season.

‘Thanks. I hope so but you never know what might crop up.’

‘I’m sure everything will run like clockwork. Ah, I see you have remembered your Secret Santa gift this time. But don’t worry; it’s not from me so there’s no need to open it now.’

‘Huh, that’s what I’m afraid of. What if it is from that same person who sent me the big black rubber cock the other year and they are sending me something again. I daren’t open it in front of the family.’

‘Well don’t take that risk then, open it in private beforehand.’

‘Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. Anyway, have a great Christmas yourself and I’ll see you tonight at the hen party of course.’

‘Ha, too right I’ll be there. It’s my boyfriend’s pub you’re having it in so if you hadn’t invited me, then I’d probably be serving drinks to help him out behind the bar but I prefer to let my hair down and enjoy myself instead of working on Christmas Eve.’

‘Yeah me too and I guess it’s going to be a whole week of celebration to look forward to so I’ll have to pace myself, but I’m getting rather excited just thinking about it,’ I replied and waved before I got into my car and flung the gift on the seat beside me.

‘Drive carefully,’ orders Miss Potts, taking a swig from her travel mug, which probably contains more than coffee so I’m mighty glad that I’m not getting into a vehicle with her driving me into town.

‘Oh I will and you too,’ I reply and smile to say goodbye, before I close the car door and start the engine. Only my engine does not respond since it is deader than my love for my ex-fiancé Toby and that is buried deep believe me, never to resurface for air ever again.

‘Do you need a jumpstart?’ asked Miss Potts. As she tapped loudly on my window to make me jump, never mind the damn car.

‘Err, yes please . . . that would be brilliant, thanks,’ I replied but do I trust this woman to mess about under my hood and fix my engine for me, or am I risking it blowing up in my face if she connects the wrong wires. I crossed my fingers again for luck just in case.

‘You know, if this doesn’t work then I can always give you a lift into town. I mean, we are heading in the same direction so we may as well travel together anyway. What do you say?’ she offers. I smile to show willing but behind the grin, there is a prayer being said to the holy saint of all blasted vehicles to get this mother working (if there is one I do not know but there seems to be one for everything else so why not). Seriously, I cannot put my faith in that or the sodding technology if it does not work so I will just let her down in advance.

‘Oh, I’m not going home to my parent’s house straight away. I have to go back to my apartment and pick up my dog and stuff and then head over to the bridal shop for a final fitting so it’s busy, busy, busy.’

‘I wouldn’t know . . . I’ve never arranged a wedding before.’

‘Well you never know. Landlord might be the one to change that.’

‘Maybe, who knows what the future holds but we’re happy for now,’ she replied but her eyes told a different story and I bet she would love to walk down an aisle with him and I don’t mean a shopping one at the local supermarket. Thank God and his merry band of saints; come to that since I had changed my plea to include St Christopher. Well he is the one to do with travel, is he not? Anyway, the jumpstart worked and I got the use of my car once more so I will not now need that tow to the nearest garage as she had offered if all else failed. I could just imagine it, me swaying behind her vehicle and I do not mean because of a flimsy rope connection. While I tried to keep up with her staying across the road in front of me and I could really do without that.

The proposal came as a bit of a surprise to Harvey as well as me, for he was not particularly thinking of doing it beforehand. It was not on his mind so he had not planned anything special, whilst figuring that we were simply happy as we were just being boyfriend and girlfriend for the time being and we were. I had long since given up trying to persuade him otherwise that I would make decent marriage material. It is funny but that is when things alter in your own personal universe, like for instance a) the bloke who gives up playing the lotto, only for his numbers to win the following week. Or b) the woman who gives up getting pregnant, only to discover that she is with child and then there’s c) the man who gave up smoking, only to find out he has cancer. No, strike that last one from the record because these were supposed to be welcome and wanted examples and nobody needs that.

Anyhow, Harvey had suddenly decided impulsively that he needed to alter our marital status. I cannot remember what I did or said at the time when we had waved off the happy couple to go on their honeymoon and I had caught the bouquet. Well technically Uncle Bruce did, only he’d tossed it at me so quickly that I didn’t have a choice but to catch it next which had brought about this sudden change when Harvey wanted more from us as a couple. He wanted to commit to me and make me his wife so we could share our life together. Altogether now, ah, bless him for just being the person that he is and I hope that he never changes or falls out of love with me.

As Harvey got down on one knee with a makeshift ring made out of a piece of gold ribbon tied in a tiny bow, he’d asked me to marry him at the end of the night after the early summer wedding of my sister Alice to William where I was chief bridesmaid. They had brought their nuptials forward by a year in order to cover over the fact that my annoying younger sibling is pregnant with her first child and she had wanted to do it before she started to show, so she could wear her dream dress and look beautiful in the photographs. My old designer gown which I was going to wear for my wedding to Toby but having passed it on to my sister a couple of Christmases ago, never had its big outing for the purpose that it was purchased. For this particular dress was donated to our local charity shop and Alice got a brand-new one that actually suited her much better and looked rather darn good on the day. Please do not tell her I told you that or she will only get more big-headed then she is already, at being ‘the first to marry and the first to carry’. I did not know this was a bloody competition, or I would have tried a hell of a lot harder to win it.

‘You’re late. You know I hate waiting,’ accused Alice when I shot through the door but in my haste, I got my handbag caught on the handle in my rush to enter the premises and having fought with it to get it back, I now dropped my carrier bag in the process. I do hope it is nothing fragile but I doubt it, for I did not hear anything break.

‘I know I am running late and I know you don’t like to wait, but I didn’t do it on purpose. My car battery died and I had to get Miss Potts to jumpstart me. And I did have to nip home after work and you know very well that the traffic is terrible at this time of year, so I think I’ve got a good enough excuse.’

‘I’ll forgive you, thousands wouldn’t. Where’s that mutt of yours?’

‘ET is waiting in the car; we don’t want to smell like a dog in our dresses. Do we?’ I took a deep breath to stay cool, calm and collected.

‘Ooh, what’s in the bag?’ asked Alice as she yanked it out of my hands to peek inside the holly designed wrapping paper, at the gift.

‘It’s my Secret Santa present from work that I’ve just received, so I don’t know what it is and I’m not supposed to open it until tomorrow. I brought it in with me or the dog would have chewed it.’

‘Nobody sticks to the rules, let’s see what it is now,’ says my sister and holds it up for me to tear into, but I shake my head and return it to the carrier bag instead. I do not want to tempt fate.

‘God you’re boring. I really don’t get what Harvey sees in you,’ teases Alice and takes a seat to rest up, since she is heavily pregnant.

‘Well it’s a good job I’m marrying him then and not you, isn’t it?’

‘Mum . . . our Molly said she wouldn’t marry me if I asked her.’

‘Honestly, you two . . . just behave yourselves and grow up for once,’ replied our mother and seemingly irate with us, when normally she simply splits us up or changes the subject but never tells us off.

‘Is everything OK, Mum? You seem upset about something. Has Nan complained about your cooking again?’ I ask, taking her to one side in the bridal shop where we have gathered for a final fitting.

My grandparents are staying over, having forgone the vacation that they usually go on at this time of year to avoid all the hassle and stress of Christmas back home. But I don’t know what is such a problem for them, when they send us book vouchers every year in our Christmas cards so they’re hardly battling the Christmas shoppers to buy the last ‘must-have-toy-or-game’ that some parents simply have to get or die trying. Just like Rhonda was telling me that she had to purchase but failed to do so and there’ll be tears before bedtime and that’s just from her hubby Philip. For she didn’t manage to get hold of the latest computer game that he’d so desperately wanted, for it was sold out and that’s Christmas ruined in their household already and it hasn’t even begun properly yet. Along with stocking up on a mountain of food and drink because you never know who might just drop in to wish you all the best. God forbid you run out of whiskey, or cannot find a mince pie to offer them for love nor money as you will never live it down. This year though, my grandparents are set to spend the holiday season with us and also attend my wedding to Harvey on the same visit so that’ll be interesting if nothing else and should fill the time between now and then with plenty of festive frivolity and fun, not!

‘Oh, I’m used to your Nan’s remarks. I’m fine . . . it’s just that I received a Christmas card the other day from someone that I thought was long since dead, but it appears that they’re very much alive and have sent me a message stating that they would like to meet up this evening to discuss a personal matter. Only, I’m in two minds as to whether I should go along since it might stir up a hornet’s nest if I do,’ says Mum, after waiting for the assistant to move out of earshot.

‘Well . . . if you want my opinion then I would forget about it for now and arrange to meet up after Christmas when you are less stressed and do not forget, you’re supposed to be at my hen night this evening so you have a ready-made excuse right there.’

‘Huh, do not worry I would not miss it for all the tea in China . . . I want to be involved with every part of your life, you know that. And I don’t tell you this often enough but I do love my girls more than anything in this world, so you two should always remember that no matter what happens next,’ said Mum and dragged me over to force Alice up onto her feet once more for a group hug.

‘I guess the sentiment of this wedding coupled with Christmas is really getting to you. We love you too, Mum and we do appreciate all that you do for us . . . eh, Alice?’ I said, nodding at my sister to join in and add her two pence worth to make our mother feel better.

‘Yeah, me too . . . whatever she said, I agreed with her. Now can I sit down before I fall down,’ insists Alice and releases her hold on us.

‘Is this strictly a family affair or can anyone, just join in? I could do with a hug too,’ pipes up Rhonda when she walks or should that be waddles through the door and the bell rings out to let the shop assistant know that she’s here so we can at least begin at last.

‘Hi there you, getting bigger by the day I see so it’s a good job we’re getting these frocks altered, again,’ I say and go over to hug my friend and matron of honour Rhonda, who is also heavily pregnant.

‘Don’t be having a go at me for being with child and messing up your big day . . . it’s your own fault that I’m in this predicament in the first place,’ replies Rhonda and takes a seat next to Alice.

‘How do you work that out? I’m not the one who got you pregnant, or the one who couldn’t keep it in my pants or bother my arse to get the snip before this happened to you,’ I said to remind her of this fact.

‘Granted, it’s not your fault that I came off the pill and my hubby Philip was too scared to get the snip, but it is still your fault in a way.’

‘It’s not my fault that you went from being on a sex strike to having no union rules whatsoever and being open for business 24/7, is it?’

‘It is, for lending me that mummy porn book and this is the result,’ says Rhonda and pointing at her swollen belly, which goes along nicely with her swollen boobs and ankles too by the looks of it.

‘Huh, if you’re thinking like that then it’s my mother’s fault so we should blame her because the book belongs to her,’ I say jokily.

‘You can’t blame me, I didn’t buy it. I was given it by Uncle Bruce that Christmas and I didn’t force any of you guys to read it either so what’s done is done, live with it,’ snaps my mother, which is so not like her and I don’t know what’s up but I intend to find out.

‘Well my baby is very much wanted, so I feel sorry for your one,’ pipes up Alice, peeling yet another tangerine to pop in