1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

‘That’s not on,’ Stan said, frowning at the TV screen.

A grin tore across my face. Everyone had complained – vociferously – about my demand to watch A Muppet Christmas Carol. There had been a lot of rolled eyes as they’d settled on Connor’s gigantic leather sofa, and no one’s eyes had been shaken around quite as much as Stan’s. And yet here he was, leaning forward and glaring as the characters on the show laughed at Scrooge’s supposed death. He was as hooked as the fish he caught. I snickered to myself.

Connor and I were hosting our first-ever Christmas party. It was Christmas Eve, so the pressure was lower than if we were hosting everyone on the actual day. Tomorrow Connor and I planned to have a low-key time together and I couldn’t wait, but this party was what I’d really been looking forward to.

Christmas at my parents’ home had been postcard perfect. My mum, always needing to keep up appearances, had our home professionally decorated with a veritable forest of Christmas trees. The ornaments conformed to a carefully chosen colour scheme, which ended up feeling cold no matter how much gold was splashed around. Our gifts were tasteful but had to be appropriately expensive and, of course, we had the perfect chef-prepared traditional meal, roast goose and all.

I hated it. Often, the only joy I felt during the holidays was when I spent time with my nana. Once she was gone, nothing could make Christmas anything but another tedious chore to be checked off a list.

That ended today: I was going to do Christmas for myself, my pets and my friends – and it was going to be epic. I had invited everyone I loved, Gunnar and Sigrid, Sidnee and Thomas, Stan, and Connor was my co-host.

I didn’t want the feel of a generic commercial holiday, I wanted a day where the magic was front and centre, a proper glow of peace and happiness. I wanted to pretend I believed in Santa. I wanted to listen to the trashy Christmas music Mum never allowed me to play and watch the sappy Christmas movies she wouldn’t let me watch. And I wanted to dive into the food. Surely all that would be powerful enough to banish my childhood inspired Grinch heart so I could enjoy the Christmas spirit like everyone else did.

Sigrid was in Connor’s chef’s kitchen, and the house smelled divine. I had offered to cook but the hearth witch had kindly suggested that perhaps I should walk before I ran. She’d bustled in with enough food to feed a small army: she’d brought a turkey, just like I’d asked, was making roast potatoes and pigs in blankets, and she’d done her best to source a load of British Christmas food – including Brussel sprouts.

The only thing she hadn’t managed to get was mincemeat for mince pies. Unlike minced meat, British mincemeat is a sweet concoction full of raisins, sultanas and lots of warming spices; they are Christmas in a mouthful. I wasn’t surprised it had been impossible to source here in Alaska, but I’d worked hard not to show my disappointment. It was only a tiny thing that was missing; I’d get over it.

While the others watched the movie, Sidnee and I put the final touches to the table decorations. The massive dining room table was set for a feast and it looked better than any table my mum had ever prepared. Shadow was purring round my feet; he even grabbed the tablecloth at one point and we barely averted a disaster. After that I called Fluffy to keep a watchful eye on our resident mischief maker.

I’d looked up everything I could on American Christmases so the day would be a perfect mix of both Connor’s and my heritage, and I hoped I had everything right. Tension slid from my shoulders as I looked at my friends in the living room; having everyone I loved under one roof was just so perfect.

‘Bunny, can you come help me for a moment?’ I barely heard Sigrid’s voice over the TV because the Muppets were mid-song. Handing Sidnee the last few table decorations, I went into to the kitchen.

Sig beamed as I walked in. She had so many things on the go at once that I was definitely glad she’d insisted she cook. ‘Be a dear and lift that big old bird out of the oven, would you?’ she asked.

I grabbed the kitchen gloves and opened the oven. Deliciously scented steam hit me in the face as I carefully lifted the huge turkey on to the crowded counter where Sigrid had already placed the trivet. ‘Thanks, dear.’

She was putting a bunch of gingerbread men to cool on a wire rack. She followed my gaze. ‘I don’t know what on earth is going on,’ she said, hands on hips, ‘but the first batch completely disappeared. I’d blame Stan, but I heard his tummy rumbling with hunger so I don’t think he ate them all by himself. Anyway, I made some more especially for you instead of the mince pies! I’m still sorry about that – I didn’t think to order the mincemeat in time.’ She wrung her hands and looked genuinely regretful.

‘Don’t be silly!’ I said hastily. ‘You’ve been absolutely amazing. Beyond amazing!’ Emotion welled up. ‘I’m so lucky to have met you.’

She pulled me into a hug and kissed the top of my head. ‘Back at you.’ Giving me one last squeeze, she released me. ‘Now, go on – shoo.’ Sigrid didn’t like anyone underfoot whilst she literally worked her magic. She started whipping potatoes, and the pies she hadn’t made ahead of time the previous day were lined up for their time in the oven. ‘Tell everyone fifteen minutes – and I mean it.’

‘Yes, sir.’ I gave her a mock salute. She gave me a fake stern look like she was going to scold me but then she smiled instead.

I reached around her to snag a hot gingerbread man and her eyes narrowed. ‘I promise I’m not the gingerbread bandit!’ I assured her. ‘Would I be taking more if I’d already eaten a whole tray of them!’ I hastily pointed out.

‘Hmmm.’ She eyed me suspiciously but decided to let it go, then swatted sharply at my hand as I reached for another. ‘Don’t you dare! You’ll ruin your appetite for dinner. Go on, now.’ Her affectionate look was only slightly tinged with exasperation.

I grinned and returned to the main room, munching as I went. Stan, Gunnar, Connor and Thomas were sucking up the space on the sofa and staring intensely at the TV. ‘Sigrid said fifteen minutes!’ I shouted over another of the Muppets’ songs.

Connor grabbed my hand as I turned away and pulled me onto his lap. ‘This party was a great idea,’ he whispered. ‘But I can’t wait for everyone to leave so I can unwrap my gift.’ He winked suggestively.

I swatted him on the shoulder. ‘I got you a gift – and I’m not it.’

The humour left his face. ‘Yes, you are,’ he said softly and gave me a kiss that was all heart.

I wiggled reluctantly out of his grasp. ‘I’ve got to go. T-minus fifteen!’ I hopped off his knee and scurried over to bring out the gifts I’d been collecting for months. I’d finished wrapping them that morning and I was so excited about giving them.

I put them under the Christmas tree that Connor and I had decorated the previous night. I’d been drinking Baileys, he’d drunk whiskey, and we’d danced the night away in between hanging ornaments on the tree. If I was honest, they were a total hodgepodge; Connor had bought a huge selection because he wasn’t sure what sort of thing I’d want – though obviously I wanted them all because I was greedy like that! I adored our wonky, decorated tree because it reminded me of precious moments with Connor and making out in front of the fire afterwards. I gave a happy sigh and laid my last present under the tree.

Before I’d been cut off from my parents’ money in England, my gift selections had been limited to finding an expensive necklace, bracelet or brooch for Mum and cufflinks or a tiepin for Dad. I usually found something meaningful for my nana, though spending time with each other was what we’d really wanted. Now I’d selected my gifts with care to reflect how much I appreciated each of my friends. I hadn’t even spent a lot; I was finally learning that wasn’t actually what Christmas was about.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. Damn! I’d chosen to be the one on call so everyone could enjoy Christmas Eve together, and April was off with her own family. I stiffened; I really didn’t want to be called away right now, not on my first ever Portlockian Christmas. I pulled the phone reluctantly out of my pocket and opened the message.

Bunny, I need your help! Now!

The message was from Liv. Uh oh!