I tipped my head to look at him. Was he for real? Had he really just solved our bordering-on-catastrophic problem with a swipe of his mobile and a phone call? Who was this man? A sorcerer? The igloos weren’t exactly consistent with our theme, but if we grouped them together near the central tree, it might seem intentional. “And you say they’re going to arrive . . . tomorrow?” I must have misheard him or maybe he was joking. I couldn’t be this lucky, could I?
“Yes. And they will be erected by the people who deliver them. We probably need to buy some additional Christmas lights and decorations, but operation Pull Christmas Market Stalls Out of Your Hat is officially complete. I told you we’d figure it out.” He made it sound like it was no big deal, but it was everything. And we hadn’t figured it out. He had.
Sebastian might not like Christmas, but he was looking increasingly like my Christmas fairy godmother.
“You’re amazing,” I said, a little dumbfounded. I reached for the lapel of his coat, a second away from pushing up on my tiptoes and placing a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”
The tops of his ears burned red, and he shrugged. “I troubleshoot. It’s what I do. It’s what all CEOs do. And anyway, you gave me the idea because you said you always hoped it snows on market day.”
Before I could deny any of the credit, my phone buzzed. “It’s Ivy,” I said as I accepted the call and put it on speaker.
“Celia, dear. When you’re finished, can you and Sebastian pop into the Manor? I need a word with you two.”
I glanced at Sebastian, who had his hands pushed into his pockets. I couldn’t tell if he was being surly or just cold. “Sure,” I replied. “We’ll be right there.”
We crossed the village green toward the Manor in silence, Sebastian stepping ahead to open the front door and guide me in.
“Good evening, Granny.” Sebastian bent to kiss Ivy on the cheek. “Can I get you anything?”
“I have an entire hotel staff at my disposal, Sebastian. You are not my nurse. Now, take a seat. Both of you.”
Sebastian took one of the velvet wingback chairs next to his grandmother and I sat opposite him.
Ivy sighed. “I hate to say it, but I’m getting old. First the ankle and now the monumental fuck-up with the website.”
Sebastian began to chuckle. It was the first time I’d seen him laugh since he arrived. The corners of his eyes crinkled in collusion with his mouth and the vibration of his amusement created a warmth that circled in my stomach. I couldn’t help but smile, a completely genuine smile—not in response to Ivy’s swearing, but because Sebastian was so diverted.
“Granny, you know you’re not meant to swear in front of your grandchildren.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “I always got in trouble for that, didn’t I?” She grinned, her eyes dancing in delight.
“I learned all my best swearing from you,” Sebastian said. “Better than anything my parents taught me.”
“Now, now, Sebastian. Let’s get to the point. Because of my shitty IT skills—” This time Ivy laughed first, then Sebastian, and I couldn’t help but join in. I’d never heard Ivy swear. Even when the toaster caught on fire in the Manor kitchen and the fire brigade had to be called out.
Sebastian cleared his throat. “Yes, Granny, you’re banned from being in charge of anything internet related. But actually, you didn’t forget to pay for the domain name. There was a technical issue.”
“A technical issue?” I asked. “What does that mean?”
Sebastian shrugged. “I had one of my team look into it. So here it is.” He fiddled with his phone and then handed it to me. Sure enough, the Christmas in the Cotswolds site was fully restored, with our old photographs, lists of all the shops in the village, details of the market and the present-wrapping station and the children’s activities and everything.
I collapsed back in my seat.
It was a Christmas miracle.
“But how?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you another time. The important thing is it’s back. It’s been gone about three weeks, so it may well have cost you some business, but if nothing else, you’ll have it for next year.” He was right—the weeks leading up to the market were when the website had the most hits, but at least we had it back for now. “But in case you run into . . . technical issues again, I think we should have other ways to find our customers. I’ve had an idea of how you might do that.”
For someone who hated Christmas, Sebastian sure was being helpful.
“I’m presuming that each shop in the village has a mailing list of customers that have bought from them?”
Sebastian glanced from me to his grandmother.
“I have no idea,” I said. “We can ask them.”