Dad’s Christmas Wish

Dad’s Christmas Wish
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A little festive eShort treat from the author who brought you, MAKE A CHRISTMAS WISH**A 43 page short story**A widower of five years, silver fox Kenneth Harris has no trouble finding women to date. But only one woman has ever captured his heart.When mysterious feathers keep blowing in his path, will Kenneth’s only wish come true this Christmas…

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DAD’S CHRISTMAS WISH

Julia Williams


Published by Avon

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2015

Text copyright © Julia Williams 2015

Julia Williams 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 © December 2015 ISBN: 9780008173241

Version: 2015-12-02

Kenneth Harris drove his battered Volvo through the gates of the Priory Lane allotments, pulled up by his allotment, unlocked the boot and let his dog Alfie out, as he rooted around in the back for his tools.

“Come on boy,” he said, as Alfie, a small mongrel of indeterminate providence, leapt out beside him, wagging his tail in excitement. “Cold day for it isn’t it?”

Cold was putting it mildly. 1>st of January, and an overnight frost hadn’t melted thanks to the early mists having settled into a dull grey misery. There had been no snow over the festive period, but a succession of bitter days when the sun barely shone, so the frost never melted and the nights descended into freezing fog. There was going to be precious all point digging, but Kenneth was feeling guilty about getting his onions in before Christmas. Maggie would have had his guts for garters.

Christmas … Well at least it was over for another year. Another year when he’d pretended to his daughter Emily that he was all right, by organising a constant stream of invites from the willing women in the village. The last, Suzy, had been more enthusiastic than he’d bargained for and insisted on feeding him strawberries by the fire. The moment when Emily walked in was excruciating for all concerned.

“If only she knew, eh, Maggie?” he said out loud. “Trouble is, girl, there’s only ever been you. But I’m trying to do as you asked and find someone else. You’re right. I’m no good alone.”

As ever, Kenneth listened for an answer, knowing there would be none. His only reward was the echoing caws from crows circling the other side of the allotments, and the steady drip drip as the frost slowly melted from the trees

Sometimes, and he knew it was fanciful, he did feel her. Or thought he did. Imagining her in their cosy shed, making him a cup of tea. Maggie, his Maggie, how he missed her.

“This won’t get the onions in, will it?” Kenneth said to Alfie, who looked up and barked impatiently, as if to say, get on with it. Kenneth set to work, breaking up the rock hard soil. It was hard going, and Alfie didn’t help at all, by sniffing over the earth Kenneth had turned up for interesting smells.

Kenneth appeared to be the only person on the allotments this morning. Everyone else was presumably nursing their hangovers, as Kenneth would have been had he not spent New Year’s Eve comforting his daughter as she poured out the tale of her complicated love life.

“I’m worried about Em, Mags,” he said as he took a pause to sip some tea from the flask he’d brought with him “She’s really in love with this chap. But it’s a bit of a mess really. I wish you were here. I’m sure you’d have given her better advice than I have.”

Stop wittering man, and do, Maggie’s words often repeated came into his head as if she were standing there right next to him. Just listen to the girl.

Well, he had listened and hadn’t liked what he’d heard. His only daughter had been having an affair with a married man, whose wife had just died in an accident. His daughter’s heart was breaking and there was nothing he could do.

He sighed, finished his tea, and went back to planting his onions. He spent another hour pottering around the allotment, tying up plants which had fallen over in the wind, and bagging up leaves for composting.

It was gone eleven when he finished. Time for him to head to the pub, if for nothing less than to maintain his image as the village lothario.

But we both know that’s nonsense, Mags, don’t we?” he muttered to himself He sighed. “Talking to myself again. Silly old man.”



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