Chapter One

Jess hovered in the hotel’s grand hall and leaned against the huge inglenook fireplace. She brushed her dark, wild Afro hair away from her face, more out of habit than need, before allowing her hand to run across the stone mantel. Her fingertips traced the detail in the antique carved stone, and she tipped her head to one side in order to study it more closely. She had lived at Wrea Head Hall now for almost eighteen months, yet each and every day she found another thing of beauty that she hadn’t previously noticed.

Kneeling down by the tiled hearth, she felt herself shiver as she plunged her fingers into the thick pile of the new carpet. Everything was new and had been replaced after the fire that had almost destroyed the whole hotel just over a year before and now, instead of the dark blues that had previously run throughout the grand hall, everything was decorated in warm reds and golds, giving the whole room a rich and luxurious finish. Jess looked up to the ceiling, thankful that the ornate plaster had survived, along with the carved bosses within it that were painted gold on the white background. So much had been lost, yet miraculously much had also been saved or repaired. Even the Wren oak panelling had been restored, and Jess smiled at its beauty, grateful that the insurance had covered the work, and relieved that skilled craftsmen had pulled out all the stops to bring the Hall back to its former glory.

Jess picked up the long, cast iron poker, and began to stab at the embers in the grate, before carefully choosing a log, lifting back the fireguard and throwing the wood into the flames that already danced up the chimney. The sudden addition of another log created new flames of gold, orange and blue that wrapped themselves around the wood. For Jess the flames held a mesmerising magic and comfort that she couldn’t explain, and many a night she’d come down here with Jack after the guests had all gone to their beds. Together they’d sit on one of the settees, cuddling up, holding hands and simply staring into what remained of the embers.

‘Never waste a log,’ Jack often said to her; it was a saying he’d picked up from Madeleine’s father shortly before his untimely death. The saying always made Jess sigh and she wondered what life at the hotel would have been like had Morris survived. Would she be living here? Would she have got to know Jack? Would they have fallen in love? And what if they hadn’t, where would she be now and what would she be doing? She held a hand to her heart and acknowledged that she had so many reasons to be happy. Yet, she was fully aware that she was only happy because others, including herself, had previously suffered. She thought back to the year before, to how her sister Madeleine’s former boyfriend had terrorised them all and every single day she wished that Liam had never existed, that Madeleine had never met him and that he’d never got involved with their precious family. After all, he’d killed many of the people they loved and had almost succeeded in killing the rest. His obsession with Madeleine had caused each and every one of them more pain and heartache than Jess could have ever imagined.

Feeling a little warmer, Jess moved back from the fire, sat on the upholstered fender seat within the inglenook and thought about the past. It was times like this, as she sat watching the flames, that she’d think of her mother, of Madeleine’s father and of all the people that Liam had killed, while all the time feeling ridiculously overwhelmed and grateful to have survived his clutches.

‘This year we’re just going to have a nice, normal Christmas,’ she whispered to herself in full knowledge that the happenings of the year before had been somewhat extraordinary. In fact, she thought that this Christmas might end up being what most people would classify as boring. But she didn’t care; after being kidnapped, after thinking that both she and Maddie might die, any kind of boring would be absolutely perfect. The only good part of the Christmas before had been Christmas Eve, the wonderful meal that Nomsa had cooked and the fact that both Bandit’s grandmother, Emily, and his father, Arthur, had come back to live at the Hall, where they belonged. It still seemed such an amazing coincidence that Bandit, the former gamekeeper of the hotel and the man Madeleine had fallen in love with, was a direct descendant of the family who had owned Wrea Head Hall for generations, before Maddie’s father had bought it and turned it into a hotel.

‘Penny for them?’ Madeleine asked as she walked into the grand hall and threw herself onto one of the red and gold settees. ‘Come on, spill the beans.’

‘What?’

‘You’re miles away. Are you okay?’

Jess knew that Madeleine was concerned for her, knew how many times she’d begged her to go for counselling after the trauma of being kidnapped, but Jess didn’t want to talk about it, not to Madeleine and certainly not to a stranger. All she wanted was to be left alone. She watched as Maddie lifted a hand to pat the seat beside her.

‘Come and sit with me for a while, you look completely done in,’ Maddie said, moving up and making room. Jess stood up, moved across to where Madeleine sat, but then stopped and stared at the hundreds of sparkling lights that shone out from the Christmas tree. Even though it was only just after three o’clock, the early evening light was fading fast, making the tree lights shine out brighter, and Jess knew that before long the darkness would once again surround the Hall and the hotel’s guests would gather for dinner, a time that always felt special.

‘I know it’s only just December, but I was dressing the tree and making it look beautiful while no one was around,’ Jess began to explain. ‘You know, making it symmetrical, just the way Emily likes it.’ The tree stood twenty feet tall in the corner of the grand hall in full view of the grand staircase and next to the ceiling high, stained glass mullion window, so it could be seen by everyone as they arrived at the hotel.

Jess stood staring at the tree with her cardigan pulled tightly around her. She then sighed, tutted, walked over to the tree and moved a bauble from one branch to another. ‘It has to be perfect for her, Maddie.’ She turned to face her sister. ‘She’s ninety-three and so very frail. I don’t think she’ll see another Christmas, not after this one and … What about the wedding? What if she isn’t here for my wedding?’ Tears began to drip down Jess’s face. They glistened against her dark mocha skin and she wiped them away in haste, angry that she’d allowed herself to cry. ‘I don’t know why I’m crying, it’s not like she’s died already, is it?’

Madeleine stood up and tucked her shoulder length blonde hair behind her ears. ‘You’ve done all you can for Emily, Jess. She knows how much you love her.’ She put an arm round her sister’s shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. ‘You’ve been by her side every moment you could during the past year, as well as covering reception when I’ve needed you. I’ve seen you sitting in the garden with her, hour after hour, taking drinks and cakes to her room, and the hours you’ve spent pushing her round the shops, not that you ever bought anything, but you took her anyhow, because she liked to look.’ Madeleine squeezed her shoulders. ‘Honey, she couldn’t have wished for a better homecoming, or a better companion. I know she loves and appreciates you.’

Jess cuddled into Maddie and closed her eyes. Was that what she’d been to Emily, a companion? She shook her head; it hadn’t been like that at all. Emily had helped her come to terms with her own life, just as much as she’d helped Emily. What’s more, she genuinely loved Emily. She loved spending time with her and it truly felt as though she were part of her own family rather than Bandit’s.

‘And it’s not long now till your wedding, and I’m sure Emily will be here.’ She kissed Jess’s cheek. ‘And talking of the wedding, is there anything you need doing? We’re only a month away,’ Madeleine questioned, and raised her eyebrows.

‘No, everything’s sorted. Nomsa is making the cake and you and Poppy and I have just one more dress fitting and then we’re good to go.’ Jess smiled at the thought. A week after New Year’s Eve, when the hotel would be at its quietest, she and Jack would be married. She’d dreamed of this day and she closed her eyes to picture Jack’s face, smiling down at her.

‘Are you and Bandit ever going to tie the knot, Maddie?’ Jess asked, opening her eyes again. ‘I mean, you are engaged, and you do live together, so you might as well, right?’

Madeleine shrugged her shoulders. ‘If I’m honest, I haven’t really thought too much about it. We are both always so busy with the hotel, but I guess we will, someday soon. Maybe next year. Let’s get your big day all sorted first.’

Jess felt Madeleine’s hold loosen, felt her sigh and saw how she too stared unseeingly at the Christmas lights. ‘Besides, it’s been a very turbulent year, hasn’t it?’

Once again Jess wiped at her eyes. ‘Oh, Maddie, you came here looking for safety and security for you and for Poppy, but then, without warning, Liam tracked you down, and turned all our lives into a living nightmare. But we came through all that, together, and not only did you find love with, Bandit, but you also found his long-lost grandmother, Emily, brought her home to the Hall and the true story of Bandit’s heritage emerged through her diary.’ She nodded. ‘So, yep, to say you had quite a turbulent year is an understatement.’

Madeleine tipped her head to one side. ‘It’s quite a story, isn’t it? Maybe I’ll write about it one day.’

‘I think Emily would love it if you found the time to write her story. After all, you are the author in the family.’ It was true, before the events of last year Madeleine had written books that had all been bestsellers.

Jess thought of the many nights she and Emily had sat here before the fire together, Emily reminiscing about the past. Jack was the assistant manager at the hotel and regularly worked the evening shift as Madeleine had four-year-old Poppy to look after, leaving Jess with time to spend with Emily. Over the last year Emily had told her all about her life, about the many secrets she had kept and that there was one more secret to reveal. She had talked about the past, of how she’d grown up at Wrea Head Hall and fallen in love with the gardener, her Eddie. How they’d meet on the secret staircase, and the desperate time when she’d given birth in the tower room, afraid and alone. She’d told Jess about her father, who had dominated her mother and siblings, expecting them to live by his rules. But now at ninety-three years old, Emily was the only one left. She’d survived them all.

‘There you both are, my lovelies,’ Nomsa’s deep Caribbean voice rang out like a melody as she walked from the bar and into the grand hall. ‘I’m going to need some willing volunteers to come into my kitchen and taste the first of my Christmas cakes, and you two both look like you need feeding,’ she joked. ‘What’s more, I’ve got extra brandy here to soak the others.’ Nomsa waved a bottle of brandy in the air and laughed before heading to the oak door that led to the kitchen. ‘I’ll be cutting you both a huge slice, so you need to come quickly before Poppy eats it all, and I don’t have to tell you what all that brandy will do to a four-year-old,’ she cackled as the door swung to a close behind her.

The sisters looked at one another and began to laugh. ‘Do you think for one moment that Nomsa will allow us to have a nice, quiet, or boring Christmas? Especially with a wedding to plan.’

Nomsa had worked in the hotel’s kitchens long before Madeleine’s father had bought the Hall and, although she had a home of her own nearby, she never seemed to be in it. She had loved both Madeleine and Jess as part of her family from the moment they had come to live at the hotel, taken them under her wing, and, like a mother hen, she’d clucked around them, looked after them, cared for them, hugged and fed them. In fact, it was Nomsa that turned the hotel into a home, not just for them but also for the hundreds of guests that stayed there every year.

‘Well, for what it’s worth, provided Poppy doesn’t end up plastered on the Christmas cake, I’d be up for a quiet and normal Christmas,’ Jess added as she saw Madeleine’s eyes skim the room. ‘If you ignore the fact that we have a hotel to run, and we’re fully booked for the festive season, with all the guests wanting the perfect Christmas. I have no idea how many turkeys Nomsa will prepare and stuff, or how many mince pies she will bake before we get to New Year.’ She sighed a happy sigh. ‘What would we do without her, Maddie?’

Madeleine shook her head. ‘I have no idea. But right now all I can think is if we don’t get in that kitchen fast, my four-year-old daughter will be as drunk as a skunk on Christmas cake and it won’t be Nomsa that has to sit up with her while she throws up, or sobers up.’