Much as she wanted to wander down and observe the construction, Sid’s presence stopped Charlotte.
Charlotte carried her plate inside, locking the door after herself. There was a book that needed finishing and she might as well do it tonight.
Sleep came in the early hours, after the last page was devoured. Charlotte adored mysteries and thrillers and this one was riveting. She slid beneath the sheets with a happy sigh and fallen asleep quickly.
She woke early despite the short night. Dawn was barely appearing, yet Charlotte longed to stretch her legs. All this wonderful country air.
Curious to see the new tree, she power-walked to the roundabout and stopped to gaze up at the lovely pine. Not as tall as its predecessor, its dark green foliage filled the space left behind. It was on a metal stand which was attached to the concrete centre of the roundabout by lots of bolts. Short of a chainsaw, nobody was moving this beauty.
“I like this one better.”
Charlotte jumped. It was Mr Chen, walking a golden retriever. She couldn’t help herself and reached out to stroke the dog’s velvet ears.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He said. “This is Mason.”
“Mason is a stunner. He reminds me of a dog I used to know.”
“Used to?”
“Oh, he lives in the town I lived in before here. Fit and happy, and enjoying the attention of several families.” Randall was Christie and Martin’s dog, but he adored almost everyone and was a particular favourite of Thomas.
“Typical goldie. Who do you think is stealing all the trees?”
“Me? I really don’t know anyone well enough to guess.”
“And I’ve been here for ten years and can’t imagine why this is happening.” Mr Chen nodded. “Mystery for sure. Well, we need to get home.”
“Nice to see you. Merry Christmas.” Charlotte smiled. Really smiled. The words made her ridiculously happy for some reason. Was Christmas behind her new attitude?
“Merry Christmas to you.”
Charlotte watched them head up the street and turn the corner. How lovely to meet another goldie here so far away from the town where Randall lived. She missed him. For that matter, she missed River’s End.
Her tummy rumbled and she wandered home. Elizabeth would be making Palmerston House into a Christmas wonderland and probably Angus was at her side. If she was a betting person—and she wasn’t—she’d expect Martha and Thomas to have Christmas at their cottage and include as many of the townsfolk as would fit. Christie and Martin would spend their first Christmas together as husband and wife.
And Trev. Much as she tried, Charlotte couldn’t get the sudden image of him out of her mind. The cheerful smile. Even when he was serious, he never came over as angry or mean. And he looked after himself. No doubt.
Stop that at once.
But she missed his eyes. His kind, understanding eyes.
It was only when she paused to glance into the bookshop window to check everything looked nice that she realised she had wrapped her arms around herself.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Charlotte had never seen Rosie so bright and happy. And this was a woman who always exuded a calming kind of joy. She’d arrived in before opening, tinsel decorating her wheelchair and wearing a Santa hat. She insisted Charlotte wear one as well.
“Fine, but I’d be better as an elf.”
“I will consider that next year.” Rosie was halfway to the kitchen and called over her shoulder. “Actually, I won’t. Next year you will be the boss.”
Charlotte sank onto her stool with a soft thud. Rosie really thought she would be the one. From the moment she’d stepped inside the bookshop—in fact, before that, when she’d seen the beautiful window display—Charlotte was lost in admiration.
Charlotte and Rosie kept in touch after the visit and when things got too hard for her in River’s End, Charlotte accepted Rosie’s offer of a job and accommodation. She’d fallen in love with the bookshop and from day one harboured a secret hope she’d somehow be good enough to eventually take over.
“Hat on head, young lady!” Rosie wagged her finger at Charlotte with a big smile. “You were miles away.”
“I was.” Charlotte shoved the hat on and flicked the pom-pom to the back. “I went to the garden centre after work last night.”
“Did you now? And was Veronica around?”
“Screaming at her poor staff member near the greenhouse.”
Rosie frowned. “Not the young lass who is there on weekends? I imagine she’s on holidays from school and can work more.”
“She was just about in tears and I’m glad I showed myself before it got any nastier. Who on earth treat someone that way?” Charlotte shook her head before the frustration built up again. “Is it usually low on stock?”
“I haven’t been there often, not since Veronica took over. Initially I bought a few plants, but they were always in poor shape and when I accidently took home a disease which went through my vegetables, well, I stopped going there.”
“She doesn’t like animals.” As if that explained everything she disliked about Veronica, Charlotte headed for the front door. “Coffee?”
“Oh, my. And I think some pastries, given that information!”
As Charlotte emerged from the café with coffees and a box of goodies, she glanced at the roundabout. Two men worked around it on scaffolding, decorating it with thick streams of tinsel and giant baubles. It was already looking beautiful and other people stopped to watch.
“That new tree is so gorgeous!” she announced as she handed one coffee to Rosie and put her own one behind the counter. “There’s pastries and cupcakes in case we need them later.”
“I like the way you think.” Rosie peeked in the box. “And agree about the tree. From now I think the real ones are the way to go.”
“I disagree!”
Octavia stood stiffly just inside the door, hugging her large handbag to her body.
“Good morning. You mentioned that before, Octavia.
