Second Chances at the Log Fire Cabin: A Christmas holiday romance for 2018 from the ebook bestseller. Catherine Ferguson

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СКАЧАТЬ stare at her blankly then glance at the box. I didn’t know you could make custard from scratch.

      She nods. ‘I know, I know. You’re right. Far too time-consuming! Let’s just stick to the packet variety.’ She opens the trifle box and looks inside, drawing out the packets of jelly and custard that I happen to know you just add hot water to. Even I can do that!

      Poppy grins, pops the packets back into the box and hands it to me. ‘There you go!’

      And there, indeed, I went. With a huge feeling of relief.

      I make the trifle in no time, according to the instructions, and when Poppy asks me to whip some cream for the top, I casually ask where she keeps her ‘balloon whisk’. (I learned about balloon whisks when I was watching cookery demos on YouTube.)

      Peeling a load of prawns for the starter is easy by comparison.

      Every time I need to go to the fridge for something, I peer at my trifle with pride.

       First dessert made. And I think I got away with it!

      From about seven o’clock, there are lots of comings and goings out in the hall but I’m too busy trying to present the prawn cocktails with panache (like they do on MasterChef) to pay much attention. Soon, the kitchen is filled with the delicious aroma of Poppy’s lasagne and, before I know what’s happening, she’s loading the starters onto a large tray and carrying them through to the dining room.

      I watch them go like an anxious mum dropping her kids for their first day at a new school. When the dishes come back empty with no report of complaints, a feeling of sheer relief rushes through me, making me feel quite light-headed. Maybe I’ll be able to do this!

      When it comes to dessert, Poppy insists I should carry my trifle into the dining room myself. It will be a good chance, she says, for me to meet all the guests.

      I’m a little nervous but at least I already know Jed and Alex, and I’ve met Sophie. In fact, I’m quite looking forward to Alex seeing my beautiful trifle because then he’ll realise I’m not quite such a flop in the kitchen, after all …

      My hands feel a little sweaty from nerves so I run them down my jeans a few times and pick up the bowl. Walking through the hallway, I’m concentrating so hard on not tripping over any rugs that I’m not even looking at the diners.

      ‘Presenting … Roxy’s trifle everyone!’ says Poppy.

      I look up and meet Alex’s eye. He gives me a big encouraging smile and a sly wink, which bolsters my confidence. He’s had the haircut he promised. It suits him short.

      My gaze slides to Sophie. She’s eyeing the trifle with a wary look as if she’s worried I might poison her. Her head is resting on the shoulder of the man next to her.

      A second later, my eyes collide with his and my heart nearly leaps out of my chest.

      ‘Jackson?’ I gasp, my knees turning to blancmange.

      ‘Roxy?’ growls Jackson, shock written all over his handsome face.

      The blood rushes to my head and I think I might keel over.

      I manage to save myself but not the trifle, which slides out of my damp grasp and lands on the wooden floor with a spectacular, rainbow-coloured crash.

       Chapter 7

      Flo can’t believe it when I get back and break the news about Jackson.

      She makes me sit down in the best armchair and supplies me with a large glass of wine to combat the shock. I refuse her chocolate offering because my insides are in complete tatters. But as she listens to my story, she systematically unwraps and eats three Mini Rolls, one after the other.

      ‘He just turned up at the Log Fire Cabin with his new girlfriend and you had to serve him dinner? You had no warning whatsoever?’ Her eyes are round with disbelief.

      I rake my hands through my hair and stare at my flatmate in anguish. ‘I can’t go back there, Flo. Imagine having to face him every day, and know that he’s tucked up every night with the delectable Sophie at that bloody boutique hotel!’

      She nods in sympathy and holds out the Mini Roll plate.

      I shake my head. ‘Thanks, but I think I might be sick.’

      ‘So that French girl who answered his phone …?’

      ‘A one-night stand? Before he got with Sophie? Oh, God, I don’t know!’ I wail, grabbing a Mini Roll in desperation.

      ‘The bastard doesn’t waste much time,’ murmurs Flo.

      ‘I know. But how can I let Poppy down? She’s relying on me.’

      Flo frowns. ‘Listen, hun, all’s fair in love and war. You have to do what you have to do. And if you can’t face the thought of seeing Jackson and Sophie every day during the festive season, you’ll just have to tell Poppy you’ve changed your mind.’

      I nod. ‘I think I’ll have to. I’m sure if I explain why, she’ll understand. She’s such a lovely person.’

      Later, in bed, I lie there wide awake, thinking back to the catastrophe that was the trifle incident. Jackson looked just as shocked to see me as I was to clap eyes on him. In a way, it was quite fortuitous that I dropped the trifle because it meant that, in the ensuing kerfuffle of getting it all cleaned up, we were able to skate over the fact that we’d been far more than just acquaintances. Sophie kept shooting me funny looks when she thought I wasn’t watching, so she obviously suspected something. I was just glad no one at that table had apparently seen my tragic proposal of marriage on live TV … Unless they were being diplomatic and just pretending they hadn’t.

      Next morning, I’m feeling totally drained from the emotion of the day before. I sit at the kitchen table, huddled in my dressing gown, drinking tea and trying to psyche myself up to phone Poppy and explain it won’t be possible for me to continue at the Log Fire Cabin. My heart sinks every time I imagine her reaction. But Flo is right. It’s all about self-preservation. I have to do it.

      My mobile rings, making me jump with fright.

      Poppy’s name appears.

      I look at Flo, who’s buttering toast, and groan. ‘Here goes.’

      ‘Hi, Roxy? Listen, you’re going to hate me but I’m going to have to ask you to manage on your own today.’

      ‘Oh? Is something wrong?’

      Poppy groans. ‘I’m not well, Roxy. I don’t think those kedgeree leftovers I ate yesterday agreed with me. I keep thinking I’m going to throw up.’

      My heart sinks. Can I really let her down when she’s feeling so rotten? ‘Poor you. So … you need me to make the mince pies and the gingerbread Santas?’ I shrug helplessly at Flo.

      Maybe I could just go and help out today, until she’s feeling better. Then I’ll tell her I can’t continue …

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