I get up early on Christmas morning to shower and wash my hair as quietly as I can so Danny can sleep longer, but after a few minutes he bounces out of bed, once again his new cheerful self. After a quick breakfast in the kitchenette, we call Liz, leaving my parents for later as they always get up late on Christmas morning. For a moment, I miss being there and having Christmas morning with them, but I am perfectly happy where I am right now.
Danny and I find Mitchell in his office, going through some files. There’s no one around but essential cleaning staff on this wonderful, fantastic Christmas morning.
‘Hey, Merry Christmas, mate,’ he chimes, grabbing Danny’s fist and pumping it in the air, then looks up at me with that I know what you did yesterday grin.
‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart,’ he whispers.
‘Merry Christmas.’ I smile back, so elated I might just about explode with happiness.
‘Are you ready for the second part of my surprise?’
‘Yes.’ Whatever it is, I like it. Especially if it involves him and me. ‘But I’ve already seen it all,’ I quip, stifling a giggle.
‘Silly.’
‘Give me a hint.’
‘Uh-uh.’
‘Please?’
His eyes are glued to mine, and we’ve reached stalemate. He’s not budging, the cad.
The front door opens and Laura bounces in. ‘Merry Christmas!’ she chimes and throws herself at us with hugs and kisses.
‘Merry Christmas,’ Mitchell says. ‘What are you doing here? Didn’t I give you the day off?’
‘Yes, you did, Mr Scrooge. But I came by to drop off my pressies!’
Laura grins at me. ‘Ladies first,’ she produces a pretty gold and red package. It’s a DVD on Cornwall.
‘Oh, Laura, thank you,’ I gush. And then my throat constricts at such kindness, but before the tears come, I reach down under my desk and thrust my own gift into her arms. ‘Merry Christmas, Laura.’
She looks at the huge box, then back at me as she begins to unwrap. And then she gasps. ‘Oh, my God, Poldark!’ she cries, caressing the covers of the complete set of novels – all twelve of them. ‘Thank you, Rosie!’
‘No, Laura. Thank you. For your kindness, and your friendship.’
Laura’s eyes moisten as she looks into mine, and reaches out for a great big hug.
‘Listen, Laura, I’m taking Rosie and Danny on an errand,’ Mitchell the Mood Killer says. ‘We won’t be gone long. Can you stay and watch the desk until we get back?’
‘Mitchell,’ I argue. ‘Let the girl go, it’s Christmas.’
‘We won’t be long,’ he promises.
Laura looks from him to me, then back at him again as a huge smile lights up her face. ‘Of course! Take your time!’
‘Great,’ Mitchell says. ‘Danny, go upstairs and get your and your mum’s coats. I’m going to start the jeep up. Meet you out front in two.’
Danny nods and dashes off, excited as can be.
Laura watches him go and then grabs my hands. ‘Tell!’
I laugh. ‘Tell what?’
‘How was it?’
‘How was what?’
She rolls her eyes, almost ready to shake the truth out of me. ‘Don’t give me any of that – it’s as plain as the nose on your faces what you two are up to!’
‘Laura, I think you’re imagining things,’ I lie, a smile twitching at my lips.
She raises her hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘All right. I won’t pry. But don’t think you’ve fooled me. Or anyone else. Now go,’ she says, pushing me away from Reception.
As far as surprises go, I have absolutely no idea what Mitchell’s is – not even when we get into Mitchell’s nice warm jeep and head down into town.
‘Are you going to give me a clue?’ I ask.
‘Nope.’
‘Is it something in town?’
He shakes his head, then slides me a mischievous glance. ‘Something on the other side of town.’
I turn to Danny in the back seat. ‘What do you know about this?’
He crosses his heart. ‘Nothing, Mum, I swear.’
Mitchell grins at him in the rear-view mirror. ‘Sorry, mate, I didn’t tell you because this is a surprise for you, too.’
It only takes about ten minutes in all to traverse Little Kettering, and before I know it, we are just outside the opposite end of town, climbing a gentle, grassy hill.
‘Where are we going?’
He licks his bottom lip and grins, but says nothing more.
I look at him, then look ahead as he pulls on the handbrake and comes around to open my door and help me down, like the best of gentlemen. I look around as my feet touch the ground. And I gasp.
I’m looking at what, at first, look like ruins, but then I realise it’s a work in progress: a row of cottages high above the sea, just off the coastal path.
‘This is Cove Cottages,’ Mitchell chimes, taking my hand and propelling me up gently along with him as he bounds over to the open entrance of one of the houses where tradesmen are working.
‘Yorrite, Mitchell?’ one of them calls as he’s lugging a cement bag.
‘Lads, this is Rosie Anderson,’ Mitchell says. ‘And her son, Danny.’
Like in an AA meeting, they all turn and smile. ‘Hi, Rosie. Hi, Danny.’
I smile back, still not entirely sure. Could it be what I’m thinking? How, if he has no money?
‘You need to keep him away from here,’ one of the men says as he walks by, his belly shaking as he laughs. ‘He’s working us into the ground – and on Christmas morning!’
Mitchell claps him on the back. ‘Work, you? That’ll be the day, Bernie. Besides, you’re only here because your wives have kicked you out until dinnertime…’ And then he turns to me and offers his arm. ‘Just for the record, they’re not actually working today. They just came to collect their stuff. Come on, let me give you the tour, Rosie.’
‘Mum, look, a dog!’
‘That’s my Mac,’ Bernie says. ‘You want to play with him? Go on, he’s good as gold, aren’t ya, Mac?’
‘Can I, Mum?’ Danny asks me.
‘Of course. But stay here out in the open. This is a building site.’
Danny hunkers down to pat the dog’s sleek head, and grins. ‘Hello, Mac, how are you, boy?’
‘He’ll be safe in the gardens, Rosie. Let me show you around.’
With one last glance in Danny’s direction and his surroundings, I satisfy myself that he is within sight and safe before I follow Mitchell.
Each cottage is deceptively large, with views so unbelievably beautiful, the glistening sea peering in through the big, tall windows. Although still very much a building site at its initial stage, with a little imagination I can see it. The ground floor of each cottage is light and airy. And yet, it will be cosy and warm, begging for a happy couple holding hands by the fire… and a couple of kids. I can already see them, wearing warm woolly jumpers and playing board games, or watching a DVD while munching popcorn.
To the back, the gently rolling hills are blanketed in different shades of green under melting patches of snow. The quintessential English countryside at its best. When ready and furnished, it will be film-worthily perfect.
‘Well? What do you think, Rosie?’
I look around, gobsmacked. ‘Whose place is this?’ I ask, but he just grins, the tip of his cheeky tongue peering through his teeth. I gasp. I was right. ‘Is this your… are you…?’
He takes my hands. ‘I’m doing it, Rosie. I’m opening my own holiday lets!’
On instinct, I throw my arms around him and pull him to me. ‘Oh my God, Mitchell…!’
‘No more audits, no more Head Office bloody breathing down my back. Just a small holiday rental gig with four self-catering cottages. I’ll soon be my own boss!’
It couldn’t be better news. This is what he wants. I’m so happy for him that he won’t have to face Head Office. And then I realise that all my efforts to help him have been worth it. But now it’s my job that’s in actual danger, and I’m still pretty much in Susan’s Bad Books until I can clear my position back at HO.
But it was bloody worth it, just to see the smile on Mitchell’s face.
But there is always a but. I can’t help but wonder: How, on his salary, did he manage to even find the deposit for this place, let alone make the mortgage payments?
‘It’s fantastic, Mitchell. When will it be ready?’
‘I’m estimating another year or so. It will be years before I break even and start making a profit, but it’s what I’ve always wanted.’
He’s truly like a little boy on Christmas morning. ‘I’m so happy for you, Mitchell!’ I chime. Boy, I could really get used to this, having his beloved face inches from mine, ready to kiss whenever I want to. I’m on a clifftop in Cornwall with an extraordinary man. Can it get any more romantic?