Zara Stoneley - Four Christmases and a Secret

One More Chapter

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2019

Copyright © Zara Stoneley 2019

Cover design by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2019

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Zara Stoneley 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.

Source ISBN: 9780008363161

Ebook Edition © September 2019 ISBN: 9780008363154

Version: 2019-09-11

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page Four Christmases and a Secret ZARA STONELEY

Copyright One More Chapter a division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2019 Copyright © Zara Stoneley 2019 Cover design by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2019 Cover images © Shutterstock.com Zara Stoneley 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. Source ISBN: 9780008363161 Ebook Edition © September 2019 ISBN: 9780008363154 Version: 2019-09-11

Dedication For everybody who has felt at some time in their lives ‘not good enough’. Believe me, you are!

Prologue – Mistletoe Kisses

Act 1 – Must Try Harder

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Act 2 – New Year, New Me

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Act 3 – Nothing’s Going to Stop Me Now

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Acknowledgements

Also by Zara Stoneley

About the Author

About the Publisher

For everybody who has felt at some time in their lives ‘not good enough’.

Believe me, you are!

‘I flung open the curtains and shouted look at my hedgehogs!’

Oh my God, I knew it. My mother is going to totally embarrass me. Here, at Uncle Terence’s Christmas Eve party, in front of everybody.

Want to be able to embarrass your kids as they get older? Get your own back for every little slip up? Well, bring them up in a village where everybody will know them, and nobody will forget anything they have ever done. And never ever move house.

I am eighteen years old, for heaven’s sake. I need to stop coming to family and friends’ parties so that I can avoid total embarrassment.

Nine months, that’s all. I just have to stick it out for nine more months and then I’ll be free.

I love my parents to bits, I sometimes even like them, but I cannot wait to go to university. My own place, nobody watching my every move and I will be able to snog who I like, when I like, where I like. I will be able to leave crumbs in my bed, read until 4 a.m., spend the weekend in my pyjamas.

I straighten my antlers self-consciously, set my jumper to ‘flashing’ mode as a distraction and glance at Dad, who just shrugs apologetically, because we both know that mother in full flow is unstoppable.

‘Wendy, darling?’ He does try, but like I say, she’s unstoppable.

‘And Stuart switched the patio light on and there they were!’

‘Hedgehogs?’ I hear somebody say, hopefully.

I edge back, try to sidle behind a bookcase before anybody notices me. One more step and I’m heading towards the ‘Narnia’ display. Another step and I’ll be safely hidden behind a giant White Witch.

‘Oh no, no! Our Daisy and a boy. Horizontal on the lawn, searching for slugs they said! I didn’t even know Joshua the postman’s son was interested in hedgehogs. I never even realised that Daisy knew the boy, she’d definitely not introduced him, had you dear? Daisy?’

I lean back against the bookcase and close my eyes. I am mortified. I mean, wouldn’t you think that when your parents are holding a dinner party, you’d be safe having a quick snog in the back garden?

If Josh had had his way, we would have been naked and have more in common with rabbits than hedgehogs, but the full moon, dew sodden grass and nip in the air had dampened my ardour (as well as my best jeans) a bit. I mean he’s okay, he’s quite a lot of fun actually but I’m not about to marry him. And I’m not a hedgehog. Or a rabbit.

He’s a bloody quick thinker though, he probably would have said we were doing some kind of druid-dance to summon up snails (I bet Mum would have fallen for that, not sure about Dad). While I just stared wide-eyed like a rabbit in the headlights then scampered for the safety of the summerhouse.

Anyway, having your parents and four of their friends (who you’ve known practically from birth) all staring out at you with glasses of wine in their hands totally chills off the warm feeling between your thighs and deflates your nipples. It does, believe me, so don’t do it.

Josh went home, and I went in for a discussion about why slugs come out at night, and what kind of beer you should put out for them, before I managed to escape to bed and my ‘A’ level revision. Thank God for revision, it will get you out of practically any social occasion where your parents are involved.

I quite wish I could do that now.

Except I do actually love Uncle Terence. Once I’ve put my Christmas jumper on and we’ve set off for his rather posh bookshop (which actually looks more like a wine bar when he’s got it fancied up and makes it a brilliant venue for a party), then Christmas has officially started. And I love his bookshop with or without its festive vibe. It’s a bit of an Aladdin’s cave if you’re a bookaholic like I am. I’ve been going in there since I was in a pushchair and I’m still discovering new books and book-related knick-knacks and pictures.