Sebastian might not like Christmas, but he was looking increasingly like my Christmas fairy godmother.
“You’re amazing,” I said, a little dumbfounded. I reached for the lapel of his coat, a second away from pushing up on my tiptoes and placing a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”
The tops of his ears burned red, and he shrugged. “I troubleshoot. It’s what I do. It’s what all CEOs do. And anyway, you gave me the idea because you said you always hoped it snows on market day.”
Before I could deny any of the credit, my phone buzzed. “It’s Ivy,” I said as I accepted the call and put it on speaker.
“Celia, dear. When you’re finished, can you and Sebastian pop into the Manor? I need a word with you two.”
I glanced at Sebastian, who had his hands pushed into his pockets. I couldn’t tell if he was being surly or just cold. “Sure,” I replied. “We’ll be right there.”
We crossed the village green toward the Manor in silence, Sebastian stepping ahead to open the front door and guide me in.
“Good evening, Granny.” Sebastian bent to kiss Ivy on the cheek. “Can I get you anything?”
“I have an entire hotel staff at my disposal, Sebastian. You are not my nurse. Now, take a seat. Both of you.”
Sebastian took one of the velvet wingback chairs next to his grandmother and I sat opposite him.
Ivy sighed. “I hate to say it, but I’m getting old. First the ankle and now the monumental fuck-up with the website.”
Sebastian began to chuckle. It was the first time I’d seen him laugh since he arrived. The corners of his eyes crinkled in collusion with his mouth and the vibration of his amusement created a warmth that circled in my stomach. I couldn’t help but smile, a completely genuine smile—not in response to Ivy’s swearing, but because Sebastian was so diverted.
“Granny, you know you’re not meant to swear in front of your grandchildren.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “I always got in trouble for that, didn’t I?” She grinned, her eyes dancing in delight.
“I learned all my best swearing from you,” Sebastian said. “Better than anything my parents taught me.”
“Now, now, Sebastian. Let’s get to the point. Because of my shitty IT skills—” This time Ivy laughed first, then Sebastian, and I couldn’t help but join in. I’d never heard Ivy swear. Even when the toaster caught on fire in the Manor kitchen and the fire brigade had to be called out.
Sebastian cleared his throat. “Yes, Granny, you’re banned from being in charge of anything internet related. But actually, you didn’t forget to pay for the domain name. There was a technical issue.”
“A technical issue?” I asked. “What does that mean?”
Sebastian shrugged. “I had one of my team look into it. So here it is.” He fiddled with his phone and then handed it to me. Sure enough, the Christmas in the Cotswolds site was fully restored, with our old photographs, lists of all the shops in the village, details of the market and the present-wrapping station and the children’s activities and everything.
I collapsed back in my seat.
It was a Christmas miracle.
“But how?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you another time. The important thing is it’s back. It’s been gone about three weeks, so it may well have cost you some business, but if nothing else, you’ll have it for next year.” He was right—the weeks leading up to the market were when the website had the most hits, but at least we had it back for now. “But in case you run into . . . technical issues again, I think we should have other ways to find our customers. I’ve had an idea of how you might do that.”
For someone who hated Christmas, Sebastian sure was being helpful.
“I’m presuming that each shop in the village has a mailing list of customers that have bought from them?”
Sebastian glanced from me to his grandmother.
“I have no idea,” I said. “We can ask them.”
“Yes, we should. If they don’t have a list, they need to start collating one. Then we can get each shop to email their customers about the Christmas market.”
My ribcage lifted in my chest. “That’s a great idea. I should have thought of it.”
I glanced at Ivy and she winked at Sebastian. “I knew you’d be great for us.”
Sebastian shrugged.
Ivy turned to me. “Isn’t he wonderful?”
The heat radiating off my cheeks could have melted Olaf the snowman. “It’s a really great idea. These next couple of weeks can make or break some of the families of this village. Without the Christmas market, many of the shops would be forced to shut and the families that have been in this village for generations would have to move out. You being here to help us is so important.” He might not be in sunny Barbados, but what he was doing here was making a difference. To the entire village. To me.
“We’ll figure it out,” Sebastian said—not for the first time today. I realized the phrase wasn’t dismissive—it was a promise. And for just a second, it felt as if I was as light as a snowflake, without a care in the world. I believed him. I could look into those silver-flecked blue eyes and know that everything was going to be okay.
“Celia’s right,” Ivy said. “You’re here because your Granny asked you to come and you’d do anything for me. I’m grateful for that. But you need to see that it’s not just me that needs you, Sebastian. It’s Celia. It’s the entire village.”
“I understand,” Sebastian said.
“We’re back on track, which is great, but we need to stay vigilant. Keep ahead of things. I’m relying on you two.”
“We’ve got it handled,” Sebastian said. “Just focus on resting and getting better.”
“I’m going to be just fine,” Ivy replied. “I’m all ready for hanging the annual bauble on the Snowsly Christmas tree at the opening of the market.”
“Granny,” Sebastian said with a growl. “You’re going to be resting at the opening of the market.”
“Over my dead body. Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve hired a wheelchair so I can get to the green. Can one of you pick it up for me from Moreton tomorrow morning?”
“A wheelchair?” Sebastian asked as I tried to think how we’d get a wheelchair into my Mini. I’d have to ask Howard for a special favor, even though he’d be busy decorating his stall tomorrow.
“I don’t want to hear anything about me not going out in a bloody wheelchair. It’s not like I’m telling you I’m going to ice skate over to the tree. I’ve been putting the annual bauble on the Snowsly Christmas tree for forty years. A sprained ankle won’t stop me from doing it for the forty-first year.”
Sebastian sighed but didn’t respond, presumably knowing Ivy better than to argue with her. His grandmother was a force no one wanted to reckon with.
“Nope,” he said, suddenly. “There’s no way you’re going up to the green tomorrow. But there’s nothing written in the rulebook that says you have to put the bauble on the tree before the market opens. Maybe it would be better to make a ceremony out of it when the market is in full swing. You’ll feel a little stronger and everyone will be there to watch.”