Christmas morning dawned bright and cold. The snow had finished falling and was now dazzling in the low winter sunshine.
Annie knew she should have felt embarrassed after her kiss with Sam the previous evening but, if anything, she felt more relaxed and happy than she had done for a long time.
The house quickly came to life that morning with the sound of various showers being had, new bedrooms being tried out. Suddenly the house had begun to be filled with chatter and laughter once more.
After they had attended the traditional service at the tiny church in the village, it was all hands on deck to prepare the big lunch. Everyone joined in to peel the vegetables that Bert had brought in from the garden. Beryl had brought with her a slow cooker into which they placed all the potatoes, parsnips, carrots and Brussel sprouts. The cranberry sauce was decanted from ready bought jars into serving dishes that Annie found in a box in the garage. The bread sauce and gravy were ready to be zapped in the microwave.
‘But what about the turkey?’ asked Annie.
‘No worries, mate,’ said Will, putting on an Australian accent. ‘I had a bonza idea yesterday.’
He led her outside to where Sam stood on the snow-covered patio next to a hastily assembled homemade barbeque.
‘It’s not quite a roast but it will do,’ Sam told her, with a smile.
Annie looked over at Arthur who had come to join them. ‘What do you think?’
Arthur laughed. ‘I think it’s a brilliant idea,’ he replied.
And just like that, Annie’s perfect Christmas was back on track.
Somehow, she found time to quickly call her mum to wish her happy Christmas. It would have been nice to be together for once but in a way she felt more relaxed with the Harris family.
From the scenes of devastation on Snapchat, it appeared that Megan’s toddler-filled Christmas was also going well. Albeit noisier and accompanied by many plastic toys pinging and beeping at full volume.
Eleanor had tried to put a brave face on being stuck away from her family and was texting photos from a swanky bar in London where champagne was obviously the most important part on the menu.
With Sam’s iPhone playing Christmas music, they sat down in the dining room a few hours later. The turkey had cooked beautifully on the barbeque to everyone’s surprise. Their plates were groaning with food and the wine flowed throughout the meal.
Everyone clapped when Arthur lit the brandy-soaked Christmas pudding with a match and they all laughed at the jokes in the crackers before putting on their paper hats.
Then Arthur stood up, trying to look dignified despite the yellow paper crown on his head.
‘I’d just like to say,’ he said, in a wavering tone of voice, ‘how thankful I am to have my wonderful family around me today. Because that has been the best present of all this year.’
‘Hear hear,’ said Rose, nodding in agreement.
‘A very happy Christmas to you all,’ added Arthur, holding up his glass. ‘And may our lives be filled with many more.’
‘Happy Christmas!’ said everyone with a cheer, clinking their glasses together.
It was the best Christmas she had had in a long time, thought Annie.
There was only one thing that would have made it absolutely perfect, she realised.
And that would have been another kiss from Sam.
*
Much later on, when the washing up had been done and presents had been exchanged, they all relaxed in the drawing room with their feet up in front of the roaring fire. The snow was beginning to come down heavily once more outside and it was the perfect excuse to stay snuggled up in the warm.
‘What a fantastic Christmas,’ declared Will, sitting down on the sofa.
‘It was indeed,’ said Arthur.
‘Not exactly traditional,’ said Sam, with a smile.
‘Maybe it’s time to start a few traditions of your own, lad,’ Arthur told him.
Sam looked over at him and they exchanged a wink before Arthur closed his eyes and began to drift off to sleep in one of the comfy new armchairs. He looked warm and content. It was the most relaxed Sam had seen his grandad for a long time.
And it had been a really good day. All he needed to make it perfect was to find a quiet moment to get Annie on her own.
He glanced over to where she was sitting with her feet curled up at the end of the sofa. He knew he had to stop kissing her but her response the previous night in front of the Christmas tree had at least told him that she had enjoyed it as much as he had.
He was just contemplating suggesting a romantic walk in the snow when his phone rang. With a roll of the eyes, he went into the entrance hall to take the call, wondering which of his many bands had a work problem on Christmas Day. But it wasn’t work at all.
When he went back into the drawing room, his aunt looked up at him. ‘Everything OK, darling?’ asked Rose.
‘Yes and no,’ he said. ‘That was Alex. He came down to see his grandmother this morning. She lives about ten miles away but he’s got stuck at her nursing home due to the weather. He was wondering whether he could come here for Boxing Day tomorrow?’
‘Of course,’ said Arthur. ‘Do you know, I don’t think I’ve seen young Alex for years.’
‘If you refer to him as young, he’ll be unbearable for the remainder of the holidays,’ said Will.
‘That’s not all,’ added Sam. ‘Apparently Hazy Memory have been stuck in some godforsaken hotel nearby today. They haven’t been able to get home to their families at all, thanks to the snow.’
‘They should have called,’ said Arthur. ‘There’s plenty of room for everyone here.’
‘I’m glad you said that,’ Sam told him. ‘Because I’ve invited them to come here tomorrow as well.’
‘It’s your home too,’ said Arthur, with a soft smile. ‘Of course they’re welcome.’
Sam was grateful for his grandad’s support. ‘Mind you, they might end up staying as well if this weather continues.’
He glanced out to where the snow continued to fall.
‘I’d better check the bedrooms,’ said Annie, quickly standing up. ‘I’m not sure what bed linen we’ve got.’
‘They’re going to have to sleep on the floor anyway,’ said Will. ‘As rock gods, I’m sure they’re used to that.’
‘Do you have to do it now?’ asked Arthur. ‘You could leave it until later.’
‘It won’t take long,’ Annie told him.
‘You know, we used to have a Boxing Day party for all the tenants,’ said Rose, tapping her chin in thought. ‘Do you remember, Arthur?’
‘Of course,’ he told her.
‘What do you think?’ she said. ‘Should we send out an invite to everyone for tomorrow evening? Is it too late?’
‘I think it’s an excellent idea,’ said Arthur smiling. ‘We can really christen the place properly.’
‘Excellent!’ said Rose with a wide smile. ‘It’ll be our very first party at the brand new Willow Tree Hall!’
The only problem was that with all the unexpected extra work, Annie was busy for the rest of the day and so Sam never got a chance to catch her for another kiss.
*
Annie was rushed off her feet the following morning and hadn’t realised Sam had even left the house to pick up Alex before she heard the commotion in the entrance hall.
She stared wide-eyed as a gangly, dark-haired rocker walked about, along with four other leather-clad men before realising that she was looking at the famous rock band Hazy Memory.
Mick, the lead singer, stopped and gave Annie a slow once-over upon spotting her. ‘Hello, my darlin’,’ he rasped.
Annie blushed. His youthful blue eyes twinkled, the best asset that he had used to woo many hundreds of women over the years, including his three ex-wives. With his long-hair, he had all the hallmarks of a classic rock star, albeit one now enjoying middle age.
Although two feet shorter, Alex deliberately stepped between them and scrutinised Mick. ‘Whoever said you could pull off matching leather trousers and a jacket was obviously blind.’
‘It works well with the ladies,’ said Mick, with a twinkle in his eye.
‘Mind you,’ carried on Alex. ‘I suppose all that squeaking disguises the sound of your arthritic hips. You know, one day I will get you lot out of that leather.’
Mick laughed. ‘Ha! You wish, darling. I’m way out of your league.’
Sam shook his head. ‘It’s always the same with you two.’
They all stepped into the drawing room to be introduced to Arthur and Rose.
Whilst Hazy Memory probably weren’t quite to Arthur’s taste, they were still well known to most people thanks to their enduring Christmas hit.
Rose twittered and flirted with the band as Alex watched on.
‘It’s nice the way people still admire ancient relics,’ said Alex, shooting a wink at Annie.
‘Could be worse,’ said Howard, the drummer, slumping into an armchair.
‘Yeah,’ said Ron the guitarist, rolling his eyes. ‘You didn’t have to sing that bloomin’ song fifty thousand times this month.’
Hazy Memory had the dubious honour of recording the most annoying Christmas single of all time. They all hated their Christmas hit but knew it was a necessary way to make a living.
‘Think of the money,’ said Sam, winking at them as he stood next to Annie. ‘How else are you going to replace that clapped-out old Jaguar of yours?’
‘Leave off!’ said Mick. ‘It’s a classic.’
Annie hovered on the edge of the room, not knowing how to behave in front of the famous band.
‘Don’t worry,’ Sam told her. ‘They’re actually quite nice for a bunch of old rockers.’ He nudged her forward so she had to sit down on the sofa next to him.
Rose leant forward to pour them a cup of tea.
‘Excellent,’ said Mick, his eyes gleaming at the sight of the teapot. ‘We’ve been stuck in some awful hotel where the food was terrible. They couldn’t even make a decent cup of tea, could they, lads?’
So much for a bunch of wild rock stars, thought Annie.
But she was suddenly aware of Mick giving her a friendly leer across the room. ‘So who are you then, my lovely? Friend of the family?’
‘This is my housekeeper, Annie,’ Arthur told him.
‘I can see why they hired you, gorgeous.’
Annie blushed bright pink but to her surprise, it was Alex who stepped in to defend her once more. ‘She’s never going to be interested in an old-age pensioner like you,’ he declared, with a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘How old are you all now? Sixty?’
Mick laughed. ‘Fifty-five, mate. As well you know.’
‘Fifty-five? Again?’ said Alex, raising his eyebrows. ‘Such a shame your wrinkles show off your real age.’
‘I’ve been told wrinkles are a facial road map,’ said Ron, the guitarist, before snatching a mince pie from the plate.
‘Dear God,’ drawled Alex. ‘You must have put some considerable mileage in over the years.’
But the band merely laughed, used to Alex’s bitchy comments.
Annie felt relieved. They were actually a nice bunch of old rockers whom she actually felt quite safe to be around. She actually felt more nervous that it was Sam’s leg pressing up against hers as they were squeezed onto the sofa.
‘Thanks for putting up with us, guvnor,’ said Mick to Arthur. ‘We were telling Sam that we’re actually in a bit of a bind. We played a gig on Christmas Eve and got stuck down here.’
‘You can all stay here as long as you want,’ said Rose. ‘We’ve got enough guest bedrooms.’
‘In my beautiful, immaculate house!’ said Alex, in fake horror.
‘That would be great,’ Howard told them. ‘We really didn’t want to be stuck in some miserable hotel for Boxing Day as well.’
‘Of course, we’ve hardly any beds. Some of you might have to share,’ carried on Rose with a wide smile directed at Annie.
Annie found herself blushing as she felt Sam turn his head to glance at her.
‘And we’re having a party later,’ said Rose. ‘Some of our tenants are popping in for a knees-up.’
‘How many people do you think are coming?’ asked Annie, thinking about the food and wine needed.
Rose shrugged her shoulders. ‘About fifty. Maybe nearer seventy, come to think of it. I invited nearly everyone I could think of.’
Everyone sat up at this piece of news.
‘Seventy!’ spluttered Sam. ‘I thought that only a handful of people would come.’
‘I think everyone was keen to come and have a look at the place now it’s been done up,’ said Rose.
‘Have we got enough champagne?’ asked Alex, getting to the most important point.
‘Doesn’t sound like it,’ Sam told him, frowning.
‘We’d better head out and get some more,’ said Will.
Everyone looked at Rose who was still smiling despite the extra work she had suddenly put upon everyone. ‘I do love a good party,’ she said, beaming.
Annie was just hoping that perhaps she and Sam might be able to find a quiet corner to be alone at some point during the party. Preferably one decorated with mistletoe.