Mistletoe and Wine 2

By Maureen Reil

Molly Compton is once more travelling back home to her parent’s house for yet another Christmas to treasure in the memory banks and just like the previous time, it doesn’t turn out quite the way she’d planned it. But with all her presents bought online (tick box and pat on back for being so organised) and with her Secret Santa gift being left safely unopened on her work desk (well that’s another box ticked and wisely so) since she really didn’t want an embarrassing repeat of her Christmas past. No, this Christmas was going to have to be strictly a family affair (tick box for being such a good daughter/sister). Since her boyfriend Harvey is working overseas so he’ll miss all the joy and merriment that she’s bound to have despite this fact (and tick box for being such a lovely girlfriend who didn’t make that much of a fuss about his absence, or the upset if he doesn’t make it back for the anniversary ‘of when they’d first kissed’). As she could have found a way to endure it better, if only it wasn’t for the surprise or two or should she make that several in the pipeline before the week is out. After this, it is ‘every man for himself’ when Molly gets the sinking feeling that nothing will ever be the same again (and you can forget ticking anymore-bloody boxes because it is game over). Join Molly, family and friends for a festive funny tale that will remind you, just what Christmas is all about and that being together no matter what happens next is only half the fun of it.

This is the second book of British, Christmas comedy short novels and to be sure of more entertaining reads please be on the lookout for book three to complete the trilogy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maureen Reil
• Release date: Oct 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301644698

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.

Book preview

Mistletoe

And Wine

2

By Maureen Reil

Copyright ©2013 Maureen Reil

Updated Edition 2021

This book 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 author of this work.

Dedicated to

Mr Hannah

(Schoolteacher who encouraged me to read more books)

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 3 (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

Christmas Eve

Let me start by saying that I’m not looking forward to this Christmas and I can’t believe I’m even suggesting that after the wonderful festivities I’d had the year before, when I’d assumed that it would be truly terrible and it’s turned out to be absolutely fantastic in the end. You see, I met my boyfriend Harvey this time last year and it is our one year anniversary ‘of when we first kissed’ coming up so it was a good one all round. I got closure on an old relationship gone south (literally, for I’m pretty sure that my ex-fiancé named Toby is still in Australia) and my life took an upbeat turn when another door opened on my festive calendar as I got more than a crappy piece of chocolate for my efforts in the love department.

Only I am not even going to be seeing Harvey at all until New Year’s Eve this time around since he is away, working in Germany. Those slave drivers over there will not let him have time off for a special occasion and anyone would think it Christmas the way they go on about it. Being that it is apparently the busiest time of the year in retail so go figure, as they make such a fuss over their Christmas markets and ranking them as the best in the world. Like everything else, the efficient Germans do for if war will not help them to take over the rest of Europe then financially bailing out the other countries sure will in the end (and that is if the debt is called-in because they own your ass nowadays so don’t you forget it). It is enough to drive you to drink and the chance would be a fine thing for I am as sober as they come at present, more the pity.

Speaking of driving, for this is what I am about to do now when I reach my car in the parking zone outside the office building where I work in HR. But unluckily for me, I don’t get to go off to the pub for a celebratory Christmas drink like some of my colleagues are doing to kick start their holiday break. It will be a long day if it went by completely without any alcohol having passed my lips. However, give it time once I reach my destination for I intend to make up for the dry spell and chill out with a nice glass of red wine or three, given the choice.

‘Hold your horses, Molly Compton. You left your Secret Santa present behind on your desk,’ said my boss Miss Potts when she’d caught up with me and banged on the back window of my vehicle to make me jump in fright at the sudden noise.

‘Oh yeah . . . I forgot about that, thanks. Have a good one yourself,’ I replied as Miss Potts handed it to me through the open car window. (She’s otherwise affectionately known in the workplace as ‘Pissed-Pots’ and being something of a functioning alcoholic which often makes her believe that she’s your merry friend until she turns into the angry drunk or hangover hell’s very own punisher, so we tend to be weary of her at our own peril). To be truthful, I had left the gift behind on purpose and hoping that the cleaning staff would either bin it or take it home for I did not care one way or the other. After getting an embarrassing big black rubber cock last year off someone who clearly hates me, I dread to think what I am in store for this time but I bet it is something that I can live without or so I had intended to.

‘Yes, yes you too, have a great time with the family. I’m going to Wales to visit with my folks for the whole week.’

‘I did not know you were from Wales, you do not sound Welsh.’

‘Huh, I am not and neither are my parents but they are living there now in a lovely little place right on the coast.’

‘Sounds idyllic . . . anyway, I must be off or I’ll get stuck in traffic at this pace,’ I said before putting my hands back on the steering wheel to signal that I was leaving, but she wasn’t finished there so she didn’t move away or say goodbye.

‘Did you hear what Secret Santa got the receptionist?’

‘No . . . but you are going to tell me, are you not?’

‘She got a pair of nipple clamps off someone.’

‘It could be from the same person who got me something saucy last year . . . but why bother when a couple of wooden clothes pegs can do the job equally as good, or so I’ve heard,’ I joked but I’m not sure she believed me and probably thinks it’s from firsthand experience, only it’s not since I’m not that brave.

‘Who did you have to buy a Secret Santa present for then?’ she was probably wondering if I had to get her one.

‘Err, I got the accountant a book on having pain free labour and by the look of her, she’ll need it any day now.’

‘Why’s that? She is not pregnant . . . she is just fat.’

‘Are you sure, she is not having a baby. I mean, that belly.’

‘Yup, it’s big alright I’ll give you that and that’s why she’s having a gastric band fitted over Christmas and taking her hols afterwards to recover,’ she replied and I never knew any of this.

‘Well, I’m sorry for the mistake but thankfully she’ll never know it was me who got her the childbirth book and that’s why they call it Secret Santa. So maybe she can use some of the techniques to handle her suffering. I mean pain is pain, right? And this year’s turkey dinner will have to be teeny-tiny portions only.’

‘Hmm. Open your present then, before you go. I want to see what you got because you’ll never guess what I got given.’

‘It wasn’t a big black rubber cock, was it? I got one last year.’

‘No, but it might have brought a smile to my face if it was. I got a cupcake making kit and I do not even bake, so I am going to pass it on to my mother. Maybe you’ve got a secret admirer never mind a Secret Santa, hurry up then . . . open it.’

‘What if it’s another big black cock and I’ve got a stalker who wants to do rude things to me with it?’ I said for I really did not want to know to be honest since I was quite happy to live in blissful ignorance of this fact, if true.

‘Do you want me to open it for you?’

‘Go on then. You can even keep it if you like,’ I replied and carefully handed the gift-wrapped package back to her, like it might explode at any minute with unwelcome surprises.

‘Nah, I’ve already got one of those so you should hold onto it as you’ll never know when it might come in handy.’

‘Need what . . . what is it?’ I asked when all I saw was a mass of scrunched up Christmas wrapping paper in her hands so I was intrigued enough to think that it was something sex related, yet again.

‘It’s a waterproof hat. Well it has rained a lot lately, so I can see why they might give you one of these to wear,’ she said and passed it over to me. I was relieved, if also a tad disappointed by the boring gift for it was not anything funny like last time and nothing to talk about down the pub.

‘Just what I always wanted, not . . . right, I had best be off. Cheers and have one for me,’ I said and flung the pointy waterproof hat that looked like a mini yellow tepee down on the seat next to me. I must have sensed that it was not worth opening so that is why I had left it on my desk in the first place.

‘I’ll be having more than one,’ she replied and smiled to wave me off. I think she already has by the look of her as I hope she is not driving anywhere after that Christmas drink with colleagues in the local pub, in that state. It wasn’t my place or my problem if she gets pulled over for drink driving so I didn’t mention it, just in case she thinks that I’m telling her what to do since I know that she doesn’t like that kind of thing and I want to have a job to go back to in the New Year. I then left the car park and headed onto the main road in order to nip home to my flat first, before I made the journey to my parent’s house.

‘Yeah . . . Jesus Christ and Merry Christmas to you too, dickhead,’ I shouted from the safety of being inside my vehicle at the bloke in the car in front of me. He had just cut me up and gave me the finger in the process, as if it was my fault that I was in his way but he does not own the goddamn roads and that is not a ‘Sherman Tank’ that he is driving but he seems to think so. Seriously, we are all in a hurry for heaven’s sake at this time of year so it hardly brings out the peace and harmony bit to all men once you get behind a wheel, as it is definitely every man/woman for him or herself out on those roads.

Bollocks to it but I cannot pretend to be happy about Harvey being absent without permission, as it is enough to ruin anyone’s holiday fun when you know that you will have to spend it with the family. Being lonely and looking dejected since you are all alone or so it appears to others and then, they try to include you in their joy when blessed with a loved one to share Christmas with and it is enough to make you puke with or without being drunk and disorderly. Adding to this state of unpleasantness is the fact that you find out that your younger sister Alice is never alone for very long considering that she got rid of one boyfriend less than a month ago after having demanded and received her Christmas present early, only to discover that the friendship ring was not an engagement ring after all. Therefore, she dumped William’s commitment-shy mentality and hooked-up with another willing participant to replace him.

I am going to meet the new dude apparently when I arrive at my parent’s house since they have invited him to spend Christmas with us. Oh, that is bloody bad news for me though since I have just realised that this means that I will be sharing a room with my sister Alice again. Let us hope for everyone’s sake and sanity that it is not a repeat of last year, when I had to put-up with her and William shagging for England in the single bed across the other side of my old room. Hopefully it’s too soon for a full-on marathon sex session with the new guy seeing as she’s not been with him two minutes but saying that, everyone was being very weird when I’d asked to know the name of this mystery man for they’d blatantly avoided telling me the answer if truth be known.

As I suspect that, it is someone that I know already and do not like very much and they will not tell me in case it puts me off completely from coming home for Christmas altogether. Any excuse and all that, but I was clearly out of them so here I go once more unto the bridge that goes over the gushing river which near enough surrounds the whole town and to be honest, in all my years I’d never seen it so high up the embankments on either side of me. Only with all the heavy rain we have had lately, I am hardly surprised that it is this swollen as I travel the familiar route to having the Christmas blues.

The good news is, I have been organised this year and done all my Christmas shopping online. I have bought everyone ‘the same but a personal to each of them’ present so there is no last minute rushing around the shops for me and I could just leave work early at lunch time, go home, pick up my stuff and load up the car with the unopened packages. Then it is off out of the city and headed for the small town where I grew up. It is so much better for me to be relaxed when I arrive at my destination to face everyone. Rather than having had my nerves already frayed around the edges by rushing about until my feet hurt, my head hurts and lastly my heart when I think of Harvey and how it aches at the thought that I’ll miss my boyfriend like crazy. Especially when the little things remind me of him, like having his coffee cup stain rings left in my car and I won’t wipe them away until he is safely back in my arms.

God forbid there be one wrong word or look from my family and it will send me right over the edge usually and then we would surely start arguing but not this time. For I was determined to be nothing more than sweetness and light and building it up in my daydreams to be something special and something positive to look forward to. When I turn the corner and expect to see the familiar line of traffic outside our house as people normally queue up to admire the outdoor decorations that my father always puts up without fail. Hold on, what has happened here? There wasn’t anybody around to view the twinkling lights and giant inflatable Snowman and a red-nosed reindeer on the roof, because they weren’t put up and something drastic must have gone down around these parts for that to be the outcome. My mind does boggle at the thought because nobody tells me anything and I am always the last to find out everything.

‘Why is there only a flashing rope light around the living room window and a Father Christmas committing suicide from the chimney stack?’ I asked my mother as I dragged my suitcase through the front door while giving her a welcoming kiss on the cheek, since this