All I Want For Christmas: A festive short story

Published by Avon an imprint of

HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

77–85 Fulham Palace Road

Hammersmith, London W6 8JB

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2014

Copyright © Claudia Carroll 2014

Cover illustrations: Shutterstock

Design: www.emma-rogers.com

Claudia Carroll asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © November 2014 ISBN: 9780008126865

Version: 2014-11-13

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

All I want for Christmas …

About the Author

Also by Claudia Carroll

About the Publisher

This would be her very last Christmas as a single woman and Lucy had gone all-out to impress. So here she was in her fancy Dining Room putting out proper, carefully annotated place cards for all her guests if you don’t mind, before she’d serve them Christmas dinner later on that night.

‘Like something out of Downton Abbey,’ she smiled to herself, praying that it would all go off smoothly. It would be the very last time before she got married that both her family and Andrew’s would all be under the same roof. First thing tomorrow, she and Andrew were due to fly to the Caribbean for their luxury New Year’s Eve wedding on a beach in Cancun, Mexico. Lucy couldn’t wait and practically had the hours counted down at this stage.

The problem was tonight, because the potential for trouble was undeniable. Lucy’s family was loud and boisterous; she had two older sisters and a brother, all married and all bringing their partners and kids along too. Which was great; a happy family Christmas with kids running around underfoot was exactly what Lucy craved. But then there was Andrew’s family to consider too.

He’d been married before you see, and his two grown up children from his first marriage were coming along. Alannah and Josh. Oh God, where to start about Alannah and Josh? They were twins and at twenty-eight, just two years younger than their stepmother-to-be and not exactly happy about their Dad moving on so quickly after his divorce.

But wait till you see, Lucy thought hopefully as she laid out the last of the place settings and fussed over the linen napkins. This Christmas dinner will bring us all together as one big, happy, blended family. She’d gone to so much trouble to impress them all; how could it not?

The dining table looked breathtaking too; groaning under silver candelabra and the horrifyingly expensive holly and mistletoe flower arrangements Lucy had splurged out on. Well, she figured, her family had been through enough Christmases where there was barely enough food on the table to feed all fourteen of them – nieces and nephews included – so now that she was on the verge of marrying a man who loved to see her splash the cash, why not indulge a bit?

Just then, Andrew came into the Dining room and slipped his arms warmly around her waist.

‘It looks stunning darling,’ he said as she snuggled deep into him, as ever loving the feel of his strong arms wrapped tight around her. ‘But not as stunning as my bride-to-be!’ he added, kissing the top of her head lightly.

She looked up at him, as ever marveling at how sexy he looked for a man in his late-fifties. Her Silver Fox as she called him, her dream come true.

‘This, my darling,’ she whispered, leaning up so she could kiss him, ‘is about to be our happiest Christmas ever.’

Exactly three hours later, Lucy sat back from the dining table and dug her fork into the palm of her hand to physically stop herself from screeching out loud. This, she thought, has to be the worst Christmas ever on record and that was really saying something.

For starters, there was mayhem at the table, as her eight- and ten-year-old nephews insisted on having a game of soccer around the dining table totally ignoring exasperated calls of their parents to ‘sit down and eat your dinner!’ Meanwhile two of her nieces were all but torturing poor Andrew, clambering all over him, knocking over his dinner and managing to spill both red wine and cranberry sauce all over his good Italian suit and her crisp, snow-white table cloth.

That much Lucy could stomach, and Andrew himself was coping with the kids with his usual endless patience. What was making Lucy wince was the way her twelve year old niece kept pointedly saying, ‘but are you really getting married to my Aunt Lucy? You’re like … totally ancient compared to her! She’s only young and you’re an old man!’