“It’s here. All along the top. The Arctic.” Holly rose onto her toes and slid her paint-stained finger across the map. “But we’re staying...here.” She stabbed her finger into the north of Sweden and gave her mother an excited smile.
She had her father’s blue eyes and dark eyelashes. It was, as Christy had discovered within minutes of meeting him, a killer combination. She’d fallen hard—as had plenty of women before her, if his reputation was to be believed. But she was the one he’d married.
Pride, love, delight—Christy felt all those things circle through her as she watched her daughter.
She regretted nothing. She wouldn’t put the clock back. She wouldn’t change a thing.
Except the cottage. She’d change that in a New York minute, as Alix would say.
No sooner had she thought about her friend than the phone rang and her name popped up on the screen. “Alix!”
Holly immediately reached for the phone. “Aunty Alix!”
Technically, Alix wasn’t an aunt, but as she and Christy were as close as sisters it seemed an appropriate title.
“I need to talk to her first.” Christy held the phone out of reach. “You can say hello when I’ve finished.” She scooped Holly up with her free arm and sat her back down at the table. As Seb was going to be late she’d have time to chat with her friend before straightening the house. “How’s New York?”
“Cold.” Alix’s voice was clear and strong. “It’s rare to have snow in December, but everything about the weather is messed up at the moment.”
Christy thought about the leak in the bathroom. “Tell me about it.”
She pictured her friend in Manhattan—dark hair pulled back, tailored dress, heels that would make most women wince to look at them, let alone wear.
“I envy you your glamorous life...” Christy carried on clearing up with one hand, her phone in the other.
“Are you kidding? I envy you your idyllic country cottage.”
Idyllic? Christy shivered, and snuggled deeper into her sweater.
She resisted the temptation to confess the doubts she was having. She couldn’t tell anyone. Not after she’d made such a fuss about living here.
“When is your event and what are you wearing?” she asked.
“Event is tomorrow, and I don’t know what I’m wearing. Something black and serious. It’s work, right—?”
She broke off and Christy heard the sound of car horns in the background. “It’s an awards dinner.”
“Exactly. Work, but in posh clothing. I probably should have asked your advice. You’re the stylish one.”
Stylish? These days she chose her clothes for warmth and durability, and tried not to think about all the dresses and shoes she no longer had any use for. Christy glanced down at her black yoga pants and noticed a small blob of paint. How had that got there? She was always so careful.
“Don’t wear black. It’s boring, and not at all you.”
“Good point. Maybe I’ll wear fancy dress. Talking of which...we have a fabulous range right now. D
oes my favorite four-year-old need anything new? There’s a great unicorn costume.”
“You already sent her that.”
Christy switched on the fairy lights in the kitchen. Since she’d discovered that the soft glow disguised the damp patches on the walls, she’d strung them everywhere. Holly had assumed they were Christmas decorations, and she was fine with that. But they wouldn’t be coming down in January. If her future had to be filled with thick sweaters and damp socks, it was also going to be filled with fairy lights.
“There aren’t enough days in the week for her to wear all of what you’re sending. Where are you now?”
“On my way to the hotel from the airport. Traffic on Fifth is a nightmare.”
Traffic on Fifth. People. Life. Atmosphere... “You sound like a local.”
“This is my third trip in eight weeks. I’m starting to feel that way.”