Letters at Christmas

By Marie Godley

Shay was happy to sell Christmas trees this winter to help her friend out. What she wasn't happy about was the possibilty of losing her home.

Ryan wasn't happy baout being in town. he'd jut lost his father and had been left with a failing museum. He was adamant that the only option was ro close it. then he could get back to his life elsewhere.

Shay and Ryan meet and there's an instant attraction, but there's no furture for them when they're both leaving.

When Shay discovers some old letters in her attic she emlists Ryan's help in trying to discover the identity of the writer and the recipient.

Will her discovery bring her and Ryan together, or tear them apart?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marie Godley
• Release date: Dec 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781386147534

Marie Godley

Marie Godley resides in Christchurch, Dorest with her family. Lucky enough to live in a town with historical buildings to roam around, as well as having the sea and the New Forest National Park nearby, she has plenty to do when taking a break from writing.

Book preview

Chapter One

Shay

W e’re letting you go . The words that came out of the woman sitting behind the desk in front of me were emotionless, to match her expression.

However, they didn’t render me emotionless, quite the opposite. The words vibrated around my head, making their way from my scattered thoughts straight to my tear ducts, if the fact I was about to burst into tears was any indication.

Her hard face allowed me to stem their tide while I stammered a question. But why?

Last in, first out. It’s not personal. The clipped phrase seemed to mean nothing as she pushed the paper back into the file.

My rage began to build. I could feel my heart racing and wondered if my cheeks were as warm as they felt. I quickly counted to ten, anything to get my temper – which I knew was considerable – under check. I could get loud when I was riled, but so far I was blameless in the company’s decision to let me go, and I needed it to stay like that if I was to gain employment somewhere else. I needed a job or I wasn’t going to be able to afford my rent much longer.

I’ll clear my desk. The chair teetered as I stood up, but remained upright.

There’s no hurry. She seemed surprised.

I think it’s best if I go now, after all, I have to start hunting for another job.

I pivoted, and hurried out of her office. Clearing my desk took a moment, and resisting all the curious looks from the rest of the staff I hurried out into the fresh air.

Damn! I shouted, startling the father and son jumping over the puddles nearby.

I mouthed an apology as he glanced my way, he raised an eyebrow and I managed a watery smile. The little communication, as well as the boy’s evident delight as he splashed through a puddle while his dad was distracted, was enough to restore my faith in humans, well everyone except those in the building behind me. I took a breath and headed for the garden centre, there were two things there that I knew would restore me to a better mood.

Hot chocolate or latte? Or a hot chocolate with marshmallows? Tracy paused, her hands hovering over the jars. Or a latte and you can have a Christmas cookie. Although, of course you can have a cookie with any drink, not just the latte.

She paused and then steamed ahead as if I’d voiced a protest. Yes, I know it’s a little early, but not for us, not really.

I didn’t say anything, I pointed out.

True, sorry. Dave was grumbling when I was baking this morning.

Are you sure it was the cookies, or was it more to do with the time? If you were baking them this morning, it must have been early.

She looked down. It was only half six, she mumbled.

I laughed. In that case, make it a latte and a cookie, at least they’ll have been eaten so hopefully Dave will feel your early morning start was worth it.

She beamed, before she turned, and reached amongst the jars and boxes of tea and coffee lined up along the shelf above her desk. The shelf above that was more orderly with a row of box files.

You’ve got your priorities straight, I see, I said, indicating the shelving.

Well the box files are easier to get off of the top shelf, besides they were on the floor until last week. Dave got fed up of tripping over them and added another shelf.

That’s what’s different. I said. I couldn’t work out what it was in here. No tower of files to negotiate. I hadn’t realised how adept I’d got at getting around them.

Tracy shrugged as she put mugs of steaming, frothy liquid in front of us. It needed doing anyway, she said with a grin. Dave had to look for something the other day when I was busy. The shelving went up the same afternoon.

Well, well, fancy that, I said with a grin.

I am sorry about the job though, Shay. I wish I could dispense something more helpful than a drink and cookie.

Are you kidding? This is exactly what I came for, and your company. Although I didn't expect quite an array of drink options; have you added some more since my last visit.

She smirked. I may have found another variety when I was shopping.

I shook my head with a smile as the phone rang.

I watched Tracy absentmindedly as she spoke into the phone, more inclined to savour my drink than listen to her conversation until she suddenly exclaimed. Oh that’s amazing...Well, yes it is, but it’s totally worth it, and we can definitely be ready by then...Mmhmm...Yes, twenty-fifth is that right?...Great...Yes, my husband, Dave can come in tomorrow while he’s out and collect the permit if that works for you?...Of course, thank you so much.

Tracy said goodbye and put the phone down, puffing out her breath, then breaking into a huge grin.

Good news? I asked.

Yes, but I need to tell Dave straight away, anyway, he should hear it first.

I smile at her. Don’t worry about me, I’ve got a drink and a cookie, I’m good.

Oh, get cookies for everyone, there’s a reason for them now. Her fingers flew over the phone screen as she typed a message.

Dave, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows came in and stood leaning against the wall. What’s so important? Wait, why do you look like the Cheshire cat?

The council just phoned. They approved the sale of the trees from the Mayor’s parlour.

But, spluttered Dave, I thought they’d said no because they had a long-standing arrangement with someone else. That’s what they told us the beginning of the year when we approached them.

That person had to drop out. They needed someone to fill in quickly and they offered it to us instead. I said yes, that’s okay isn’t it?

Yeah. He beamed. But who’s going to look after the lot there? I can’t be away from the fields all day, and you’re crazy busy here.

Tracy lost her smile, until she looked at me. I have the perfect solution. Shay, how do you fancy a Christmas job?

I haven’t sold trees before, I pointed out.

But you’ve worked retail and hospitality before. You’ll be fine. Dave can take you round the farm and give you a quick course in the different trees, and we’ll only be ten minutes away, and always on the end of the phone.

I looked into their pleading faces. How could I say no?

We will pay you, said Dave, before I had time to reply.

Of course I’ll do it, I assured them. When do I start?

Chapter Two

Ryan

The old workhouse loomed in front of me, and my steps faltered. I’d made it back without even realising I’d walked that far. The heavy burden lodged deep in my chest was even larger than when I’d left for the meeting. The red-bricked building had only ever had two purposes in all the centuries it had stood here, the original workhouse, and Dad’s museum; what would happen to it now? The thought of the unknown made me go hot, which negated the raw November wind that caused the museum sign to swing on its creaky hinges, and I clawed at my scarf fighting to let that same breeze through its constrictive fabric.

I could already see Maggie, my father’s assistant of fifteen years, standing in the foyer, looking out of the floor-length window. Her grey hair neatly