Christmas in London Read online

  The frigid air touched her neck and it was too cold to ride back to McIntosh Hall. She parked her bicycle in front of the Old Union Coffee Shop and walked inside.

  She found a table in the back and ordered a hot chocolate. A familiar-looking man sat at the counter, nursing a pint of beer. He was like a model in a Ralph Lauren ad, all blond good looks and eyes as blue as sapphires.

  He looked up and she realized she had been staring. She opened her purse and fiddled with her lipstick.

  “Do you mind if I join you?” He approached her table. “I hate eating alone. The food loses its flavor if you don’t have someone to talk to.”

  “I’m not eating, I only ordered a hot chocolate.” She flushed.

  “That’s a shame. They serve the best stuffed baked potato in town.” He placed his plate on the table. “Here, you can share mine.”

  She took a bite of baked potato stuffed with cheddar cheese and it really was delicious.

  “You’re in my poetry seminar. But we haven’t been formally introduced.” He appraised Kate carefully. “Which at this moment seems like a terrible tragedy. Because you have truly remarkable legs.”

  “I’m surprised you noticed,” she shot back. “You’re usually surrounded by a flock of girls like seagulls on the beach.”

  “I’m a gentleman. It’s not polite to exclude others from a conversation.” He held out his hand. “I’ll make amends now. Ian Cunningham.”

  “Kate Crawford.” She shook his hand and his palm was smooth as butter.

  “And what is Kate Crawford with an American accent and smile that belongs in a toothpaste commercial doing in our little medieval town?”

  “I didn’t want to spend four years attending football games and fraternity parties,” she explained. “Here you meet students from all over the world. And people are so involved. I’m a member of the Wildlife Society and the Harry Potter Society and lots of other societies.”

  “I see you have an invitation to the Snowdrop Ball.” He pointed to the card sticking out of her purse. “That’s a coveted document.”

  “How do you know what it is?” she asked.

  “I received one too,” he admitted. “I’m president of the Fine Food and Dining Society and a member of the James Bond Society.”

  “I haven’t heard of the James Bond Society. I must join!” She laughed and suddenly thought of Trevor. “I’m not sure if I’m going to the Snowdrop Ball.”

  “Why not?” he asked. “The music is excellent and the wine selection is from the university’s private cellar.”

  “I don’t have a date and it’s not the kind of event you attend alone,” she said. “Couples eat dinner at the Adamson and exchange corsages and boutonnieres.”

  Ian sipped his beer and looked at Kate. “I’ll take you.”

  “I don’t even know you!” she exclaimed. “And I’m sure there’s already some girl picking out her satin dress and pumps. I can’t imagine Ian Cunningham going stag to the Snowdrop Ball.”

  “I might have been about to invite someone, but I can invent a toothache.” He shrugged. “I even have a note from my dentist. I can’t turn down a beautiful American, it’s bad for international relations.”

  “We just met.” She hesitated. “What would we talk about?”

  “I don’t have my curriculum vitae handy but I can give you a rundown: Born in Surrey and attended Harrow School. Did a gap year in Spain so even though I’m twenty, we’re in the same year. Mildly ambitious and determined to do something worthwhile with my trust fund.” He paused and looked at Kate. “I forgot the most important thing. I’m a great admirer of female beauty and you have the loveliest green eyes.” He set his beer on the table. “Am I a satisfactory escort?”

  Ian was everything Trevor disliked. He was much too good-looking and the band on his Patek Philippe watch was so worn, it must have belonged to his father. He cared more about clubs than his studies, and instead of having to find a job, his only concern was what to do with his trust fund. And he was willing to take her to the Snowdrop Ball because of the color of her eyes and shape of her legs.

  “Yes.” She nodded and ate another bite of baked potato. “You’ll do just fine.”

  * * *

  Kate stood in front of the mirror and admired her silver gown. Ian was picking her up in an hour and she still had to do her makeup.

  The week leading up to the Snowdrop Ball had been so much fun. She took the bus to Edinburgh and bought a dress at Debenhams. In the afternoon she visited the Royal Botanic Garden and Edinburgh Castle and ate mince and tatters at George Hotel.

  She wanted to ask Trevor to accompany her but they barely talked to each other. She was still angry with him for refusing to attend the ball, and he wasn’t happy with her choice of date.

  Edinburgh Castle was magnificent! Trevor would have loved the Half Moon Battery with its fifteenth-century cannons and prisons where they used to keep pirates.

  She wished he were with her when the guide described the Scottish charge at Waterloo. And she debated buying him a book on Mary Queen of Scots at the gift shop. He would have enjoyed the chapter on Mary’s dog hiding beneath her skirts during her execution.

  Tomorrow the Snowdrop Ball would be over and they could go back to their routine of brisk walks and long hours in the library and gazing at the stars.

  There was a knock at the door and she opened it. Trevor stood in the hallway. His backpack was slung over his shoulder and he clutched a paper sack.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I have something for you,” he answered. “Could I come in?”

  “I’m very busy,” she said tersely. “Perhaps another time.”

  “It will only take a minute.” He followed her inside. The dorm room only had two places to sit and he chose the wood chair. His long legs stuck out in front of him and she noticed his pants were too short.

  “The other day you said I was an intellectual snob, but you were wrong,” he began. “I can’t compete with others on the polo field or by picking up the bill at an expensive restaurant. All I have is my brain. If I interrupt my homework to drink at the pub or watch some silly pantomime, someone else will get ahead.”

  “Being at university isn’t a contest,” she snapped. “It’s about having experiences and discovering who you are.”

  “That’s fine in America where all you need is a big idea and decent work ethic to get rich,” he responded. “It’s different in England. The other students attend their fathers’ boarding schools and belong to the same private clubs and eventually have adjoining boxes at Wimbledon. I don’t want those things, but I do want to afford a nice home and family,” he finished. “The only way I’m going to get them is by being the best at what I do.”

  “You still have to have fun,” she insisted. “We’re young and without responsibilities. We’re supposed to enjoy ourselves.”

  “I love solving equations. And algorithms aren’t some impossible puzzle; they are as simple as a child’s building blocks. What I didn’t realize is that keeping our friendship is as important as achieving my goals.” He paused. “When I’m with you I’m happy. I’ve never experienced that before.” He reached into the paper sack and took out a plastic box. “This is for you.”

  Kate glanced at the rose corsage and frowned. “It’s beautiful, but I have a date to the Snowdrop Ball.”

  “I know. Even if you didn’t, I still wouldn’t go,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t be thinking of you.” He admired her blond chignon and diamond earrings. “You look beautiful, Kate. I hope you have a wonderful time.”

  “The rose is lovely.” She put the box on the desk. “But what if Ian gives me a corsage?”

  “You’ll figure it out.” He stood up. “I do have a question.”

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “Tomorrow I’m going to hike in Tentsmuir Forest. Would you like to come?”

  “Yes, I’d love to.” Kate nodded.

  “Good.” He
turned the door handle and grinned. “You can explain the plot of As You Like It to me. I’m a great admirer of Shakespeare’s business acumen, but I can’t understand a word he writes.”

  * * *

  Kate put down her coffee cup and reached into her purse. It was late and if she drank any more coffee she’d have a terrible headache. They had a busy schedule tomorrow and the last thing she needed was to be popping aspirin.

  It was hard to believe that Ian was married with a baby. To her he was still the overly handsome, frustratingly outgoing boy who never let a group dissolve without planning an impromptu picnic or late-night pilgrimage to some pub in town.

  Of course that was silly; they were all ten years older. She was a television producer and Trevor had been knighted by the Queen and Ian owned a nightclub in Spain. Then why after all this time did Trevor’s kiss feel exactly the same?

  Her phone buzzed and she picked it up.

  “It’s Trevor,” a male voice said. “Gerome said you left without letting him call a cab. I wanted to make sure you got back to Claridge’s.”

  “I’m fine.” Kate smiled. “I just needed some air.”

  “Kate, I’m sorry for kissing you,” he said. “I got caught up in the moment.”

  “You don’t have to explain.” She squeezed the phone.

  “I have two tickets to The Nutcracker at Covent Garden tomorrow night,” he continued. “It’s a private box and Susannah and I were supposed to go together. Would you like to join me?”

  “I have a busy day tomorrow.…” She hesitated.

  “You’re in London at Christmas,” he urged. “You can’t turn down an invitation to Covent Garden.”

  “All right, I’ll go,” she agreed.

  “Excellent,” Trevor said. “And Kate, wear your hair the way you did tonight. You’ve never looked so beautiful.”

  Kate walked out of the café and hurried down Dover Street. She shouldn’t have said yes to Trevor. But she adored The Nutcracker and she couldn’t pass up a box at Covent Garden.

  Being with Trevor was like slipping on her favorite dress, comfortable and pleasing against her skin. Then why did his kiss unsettle her and why did he apologize?

  The doorman at Claridge’s greeted her and she strode through the lobby. She was going to take a hot bath and catch up on her e-mails. She’d think about Trevor tomorrow.

  Chapter Seven

  LOUISA GLANCED AROUND CLARIDGE’S LOBBY and shivered with excitement. It was four days before Christmas Eve and the buzz in the air was electrifying. Bellboys balanced boxes from Harvey Nichols and families carried soft leather luggage and the odd teddy bear that couldn’t be left at home.

  The morning sun glinted through the revolving glass doors and outside the sky was bright blue. Tourists in buses craned their necks to get a glimpse of Claridge’s and Louisa felt like she had been invited to some incredible party.

  She had slept wonderfully and woke up light and refreshed. A silver tray of hot coffee and English muffins stood at the door and there were fresh towels in the marble bathroom. She slipped on a crepe dress and applied lipstick and mascara. The mirror caught her reflection and she felt elegant and sophisticated.

  Now she slipped the card she had been writing to Chloe into a gold envelope. It was for one of her favorite recipes: candy cane lollipops made with peppermint candy canes and dipped in white chocolate. They were so easy to make and Chloe could give them out to her friends. She had to thank Noah again for making sure the cards were overnighted to Ellie. It was so thoughtful.

  She looked toward the elevator and wondered when Noah would appear. She was determined to make up for not following his directions yesterday, and do something nice for him. She had asked the concierge to prepare a picnic of ham and cheese sandwiches and key lime pie. She even stopped at the gift shop and bought Noah a packet of Mentos. He sucked them so quickly; he was always running out.

  A young woman wearing a plaid dress crossed the lobby and she recognized Kate.

  “There you are.” Kate approached her. “It’s a gorgeous day. The view from St Paul’s Cathedral will be magnificent.”

  “I read all about the cathedral,” Louisa gushed. “The original St Paul’s was destroyed by the Great Fire of London and Sir Christopher Wren was commissioned to build a new one. It sits on Ludgate Hill and the dome can be seen from anywhere in London.” She smiled. “Not that Noah will let me sightsee. We were on such a tight schedule yesterday; I couldn’t catch my breath.” She took a pair of flats from her purse. “I brought these so I can keep up between locations, and asked the concierge to pack a lunch so we don’t have to eat horrible salad sandwiches. Yesterday’s sandwich was so soggy, Noah grumbled all afternoon.”

  “British kiosks aren’t known for their gourmet foods,” Kate laughed. “Didn’t Noah tell you? He’s not coming.”

  “Not coming?” Louisa repeated.

  “He texted and said he had to get the lens fixed on a camera.” She shrugged. “I suggested he send it out, but he insisted on going himself. He might make it to the Tower of London, but he’ll miss St Paul’s Cathedral.”

  “Who will be at St Paul’s Cathedral?” Louisa asked and wondered why she felt disappointed.

  “I will,” Kate said and walked toward the entrance. “Let’s get a taxi before the doorman is overwhelmed by guests asking where the best shopping is. Claridge’s might be one of the most refined hotels in London, but right now it feels like Grand Central Station.”

  * * *

  St Paul’s Cathedral was built in the baroque style and had huge arches and stone pillars and stained-glass windows. The ceilings were inlaid with mosaic tile and the altar was supported by gold-and-black-marble columns. It was the dome that took Louisa’s breath away. It was like some fabulous treasure chest filled with precious gold jewelry. The frescoes were blue and gold and the windows were gold flecked and the plaster walls were decorated with gold leaf.

  She missed Noah telling her what to do. She could almost hear him say she resembled a stork when she craned her neck to see the ceiling; she had to be graceful like a ballerina. She didn’t have to shout when she was in the whispering gallery; the whole point was to whisper and your voice carried throughout the cathedral.

  And she wished he were there to tell her not to look frightened when she entered the crypt. The tombs had been there for hundreds of years and they weren’t going to pop open. She couldn’t help it; she was never good at being in small spaces.

  The view of London from the Golden Gallery at the very top of the dome was stunning and it would have been nice to share it with someone. But Noah would have said they didn’t have time to admire Piccadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square, that she could buy a postcard at the gift shop.

  Finally the cameramen collected their gear and Louisa noticed Kate in the pew facing the altar.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.” Kate glanced up from her phone. “I had some e-mails that needed answering.”

  “We got everything we needed.” Louisa sat beside her. “Isn’t it magnificent? Winston Churchill’s funeral was held in the cathedral and so was Prince Charles and Princess Diana’s wedding. Diana’s wedding dress was stitched with ten thousand pearls and had a twenty-five-foot train. It almost didn’t fit in the glass carriage and it took her three and a half minutes to walk down the aisle.”

  “The British are wonderful at pomp and circumstance,” Kate agreed. “I remember watching the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge’s wedding at Westminster Abbey on television. The pageboys were dressed in velvet outfits and flower girls wore satin ballet slippers and it was like a fairy tale. Unfortunately, in real life love seems as difficult as solving the New York Times crossword puzzle. Just when you think you’ve got it right, there’s a letter missing and you have to start again.”

  “Someday, I want to get married.” Louisa sighed. “But right now love is an impossible luxury, like the heated towels in Claridge’s bathroom. It’s lovely to wrap myself in a warm towel after
a bath, but I can dry off with the hand towel hanging in the shower of my apartment just as easily. I’m saving up to open my own restaurant and don’t have time to date.”

  “Do you really use a hand towel after a shower?” Kate raised her eyebrow.

  “Well, it feels like a hand towel. It started as a proper towel but it’s been washed so often, I’m positive it shrunk,” Louisa admitted. “I don’t even own a cat because I work such long hours, it would starve. I’m not going to stop now. Everybody has to give up something to achieve what they want, that’s how the world works.”

  “My job isn’t very conducive to relationships either,” Kate mused. “There’s always some crisis that needs solving and my hours are impossible. Men aren’t very understanding when you cancel dinner because the Baked Alaska collapsed and we have to reshoot the whole segment.”

  “I don’t believe it. You’re beautiful and worldly and have a fabulous career, any man would be thrilled to go out with you.” Louisa turned to Kate. “Is the man you had dinner with at Claridge’s someone important?”

  “What do you mean?” Kate asked.

  “It’s none of my business but after the reception at the Fumoir, I saw you having dinner with someone,” she continued. “And last night you were walking through the lobby. You looked so stunning in that red dress, I wondered if you had been on a date.”

  “I ran into an old university friend.” Kate flushed. “It’s nice to have company.”

  “He was gorgeous,” Louisa prodded. “Like the male lead in a series on Masterpiece Theatre. He had that sandy blond hair and English complexion that make women swoon.”

  “Discussing my love life isn’t very exciting, because there’s nothing to tell.” Kate stood up and laughed. “We better get to the Tower of London or Noah will complain we messed up his schedule.”

  “He’s not here, so he’ll never know,” Louisa said and felt like she made a friend. “But I am dying to see the Cullinan diamond. It’s 530 carats and the largest diamond in the world.”