The Gift of Christmas

By kelly matthews

Lisa is not the most enthusiastic person when it comes to Christmas but she has her reasons. When she inherits her grandfather's farm in New York, she takes off from London to work at her dream job in a publishing firm. But little does she know how quickly her life will turn around when weird, synchronistic events and a guy she meets on Twitter steer her towards her life's true purpose. Will Lisa find her love for Christmas in more ways than one?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kelly Matthews
• Release date: Jan 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386674115

Book preview

The Gift of Christmas

by

Kelly Matthews

THE GIFT OF CHRISTMAS

Copyright © 2016 by Kelly Matthews

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Edited by Swati Hedge: [e-mail]

Cover design: Pixelstudio

facebook.com/newbloods

Chapter One

IT WAS ALMOST THAT time of year again. The time we were meant to look forward to but dreaded. Lisa Fox didn't just dread the holidays, she hated it with passion, and now she stood in the thick of it all at Gatwick Airport. Crying children and the groans of stressed out mothers pervaded the toilets, adding to her ever-increasing headache. She stood in front of a smudged mirror and tied her dark hair into a messy bun, then slipped on her red-rimmed glasses. About to bend down to retrieve her luggage, she felt a jab on her lower back as a woman brushed passed, pushing her forward towards the sopping wet unit.

'Great,' she muttered, sneaking a glance at the woman. She wrung her T-shirt of excess water, deciding not to change it for the second time today. As she navigated her way through a small crowd towards the exit, she saw that a queue had formed with weary travellers, none of whom would move to allow her to pass. She felt her blood boil, as she was worn out and desperate to know if her plane was ready for take-off.

'Excuse me,' she said, raising her voice, but the young woman with a heavy tan and bleached blonde hair, who was tapping away on her phone, still wouldn't budge. The woman next to her also wouldn't move, too busy talking to the woman behind her.

What was wrong with people?

About to burst a blood vessel, she pushed her way through, tugged on her bags that wedged between the two women and relaxed when she made it to the door. She heard them mutter something behind her back, but let it go over her head. It wasn't worth causing a scene over.

'Bugger.' She rubbed her temples as she came face to face with the manic airport terminal. Her heart sank when the board displayed delayed. Again.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ She groaned, checking the boards for the thousandth time this morning. The arm of her black bag slipped from her shoulder and slunk to the polished floor. She noticed the long disgruntled queue at the check-in hadn’t shifted a notch in the last half an hour either.

‘Great, just great,’ she whispered, looking for an empty seat. But each one was occupied by stressed-out travellers and yet more griping kids. Oh, fuck it, she thought, dragging her luggage to a spot between two benches. 

‘Merry Christmas,’ shouted a drunken man who walked past, flanked by two security men with sour faces. Lisa felt their pain. They’ve must’ve dealt with this a million times today already.

Sleep deprived, hungry and about to snap at the next person who wished her a Merry Christmas, she sat down on her fake Louis Vuitton bags between her legs and took out her mobile from her jacket pocket.

‘I hate bloody Christmas,’ she tweeted, supposing it was best to take her frustrations out on social media rather than make a fool of herself in the hectic airport terminal. Not that anyone on Twitter would care, anyway. Fifty followers and the occasional stalker was nothing to boast about. 

She was exhausted after a four a.m. start, so she thrust the phone back into her pocket. That was when the angry travellers started shouting questions at a heavy-set woman with fiery hair. The woman stood with a clipboard in hand, overwhelmed by the mirage of questions thrown at her.

About pissing time, thought Lisa as she got to her feet, rolling her eyes at the tatty reindeer antlers covered with tinsel on the woman’s head. Why? She shook her head disapprovingly, never understanding the lengths people went to now. She had loved Christmas once upon a time, but now it was just another day, an expensive day she’d sooner spend on books. Except for this year, as she was heading to one of the biggest cities in the world. Well, supposed to be heading there, if the plane wasn’t forever delayed.

The frustrated airport official remained calm, hushing the crowd down to a quiet murmur.

‘I am sorry you have had to wait for answers, but I can now confirm the eight a.m. flight to New York City will take off at eleven a.m. It is the run up to Christmas, folks, our busiest time of the year. So if you have any complaints, please put them in writing to head office.’

She never hung around to answer questions and the weary travellers dispersed, muttering how awful the airport was and that they’d think twice about using it next time.

Not knowing when she'd be back in the UK, Lisa thought she may as well enjoy the rest of the time she had left here.

Well, what’s an hour to kill when I’ve already murdered three, huh? She bent down to collect her luggage when a brass band started up next to her, playing Jingle Bells. She turned with a scowl across her face, sure that they sensed her hatred of Christmas.

'Is everyone out to annoy me today?'

The low tone of the Trombone pained her delicate ears, and she stalked off, following the smell of coffee to the nearest Starbucks, and ordered a Ginger spiced Latte. A Ginger spiced latte? Christmas was boring its way into her skin. She shivered at the thought, hoping she wasn’t turning into her mum, who would put up the tree the first of November. She found an empty table beside the window, flounced down on the plastic seat and struggled to stay awake. At thirty years of age, no kids or husband, she had accepted a job offer as a marketing executive at a famous publishing house in Manhattan. Aurora Publishing. It was, according to the blog she had read, one of the hottest newcomers in the publishing world. She saw the position advertised online and applied on a whim. Competition was stiff, so it came as a surprise to find out she had passed her Skype interview. Hard to believe that was a month ago. Since then, her life has been a whirlwind of change. The decision to move to New York was the biggest thing she had ever done in her life, so what if it didn’t work out? she wondered between sips.

‘No, it must,’ she blurted out. When she realised what she had done, her face reddened. On the opposite table, an old man, dressed in a navy suit, glanced up from his newspaper, his grey bushy eyebrows pinched.

‘I have a habit of talking to myself, sorry,’ she apologised, not wanting people to think she was nuts.

‘No worries, lovely. I do it all the time at home. I’m sure my wife has gone deaf or has just lost interest in anything I have to say.’ He chuckled and went back to his newspaper. Lisa smiled a genuine smile for the first time today.

You’ve got to love the British.

After drinking the last of her coffee, she opened her brown leather handbag that rested on the table and took out a set of keys on a chain. These were partly the reason for her decision to leave her old life behind. As she held them in the palm of her hands, the memories attached resurfaced of the long, hot summers spent on her grandfather’s farm in Huntington, New York. His recent passing had been difficult on her, making her question her own mortality and direction in life. With a first class English and Marketing degree under her belt, her parents were a little dismayed when she had taken a job at the local supermarket. It had only meant to be temporary, but after two years and being promoted to senior manager, she’d thought she’d be there for life. But that was about to change. Two months ago, her father had taken her aside and told her of his decision to give her the house. He had said that it had to stay in the family. After much pressing on her behalf to find out what he meant, her father remained tight-lipped and told her he couldn’t disclose anything. It was something each family member would find out when the time was right. Upon hearing these words, she could hardly say ‘no’ to her old man, and set about looking for a job, something she could say she hadn’t wasted three years studying for. Lost in her own little world, she hadn’t realised the time, so when the annoying brass band made their pitch a few metres from the shop, she snapped out of it and jumped from her seat. Time at the coffee shop seemed to have moved a lot faster. Refreshed and pushed for time, she ran across to boarding, bag in one arm, and texting her friend Paige in the other that she was on the way. 

‘Boarding pass, ma’am?’ the cheerful woman behind the desk asked. She had a broad red-lipstick smile that she kept whilst talking. Lisa wondered if her mouth ached at the end of the day or if it stayed like it.

‘I have it here,’ she said, rummaging through her bag. ‘Ah, here it is.’ She handed it to the woman, her heart heavy with emotion. For the first time since she had decided to make New York her home, tears welled in her eyes. Tears mixed with black mascara rolled down her cheeks as she thanked the woman, wishing her a sincere Merry Christmas.

I need to get a grip, what is wrong with me? she wondered, walking onto the plane, wiping the tears with the sleeve of her jumper. She wasn’t the sort to wish anyone a Merry Christmas, not since... no, she didn’t want to think about that, not now.

As the lights of London faded away from view out of the aircraft window, Lisa sat back against the seat, breathed deeply and closed her eyes to the sound of Elvis Presley on her headset.

Half a day late, the plane arrived in New York. About to touch down at La Guardia, the pilot came over the intercom wishing everyone Happy Holidays, and to wrap up warm because New York was one degree below zero with plenty of snow. Lisa delved into her handbag, and pulled out a green woollen scarf,