Cressida McLaughlin - Tinsel and Terriers

Harper

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

The News Building

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by Harper 2015

Copyright © HarperCollins Publishers 2015

Cover layout design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2015

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Cressida McLaughlin 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 © October 2015 ISBN: 9780008135232

Version 2015-09-24

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright Harper An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd The News Building 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk First published in Great Britain by Harper 2015 Copyright © HarperCollins Publishers 2015 Cover layout design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2015 Cover images © Shutterstock.com Cressida McLaughlin 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 © October 2015 ISBN: 9780008135232 Version 2015-09-24

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Christmas Day on Primrose Terrace

Keep Reading

About the Author

Also by Cressida McLaughlin

About the Publisher

Cat Palmer was cold, and confused, and had some explaining to do. As she walked back to Primrose Terrace from Fairview Cove, her coat pulled tightly around her, she wished she still had Chalky, Elsie’s wise old miniature Schnauzer, to reassure her.

The day had gone so well. The month-long protest she had organized to try and stop dogs being banned at the cove, Fairview’s quieter beach, had culminated in an event where dog-lovers, sea-lovers and other residents of Fairview had turned up and signed her petition, putting themselves firmly behind her cause. The council official had agreed to take the signatures to the committee, and it looked like the swell of support would be enough. They would be able to show Mr Jasper, Fairview’s resident dog hater, that he was in a minority.

Then she’d allowed herself to relax. She’d tried surfing with her new boyfriend Mark, housemates Polly and Joe, her neighbours Juliette and Will. She’d let her worries drift away, and so of course one had come back to plant itself firmly in front of her.

The trees lining the road shook in the wind and Cat shrunk further inside her coat. Her hair was still damp from the sea, and the cold made her head sting. Autumn was well and truly underway. She loved this time of year. She loved the excitement of Halloween and fireworks, and then the influx of lights and colours as people blotted out the winter greyness with sparkling festivity.

It would be her first Christmas living on Primrose Terrace, and although she’d be in Brighton with her parents on the day, she’d been looking forward to getting into the festive spirit, planning decorations and parties with Mark, Polly and Joe. She wanted to celebrate a year that had seen so much change for them all. Cat had started her own dog-walking business, Pooch Promenade, which was going from strength to strength; Polly had worked hard to qualify as a veterinary nurse, and was just embarking on her dream career at Fairview vet’s; Mark’s new film – despite a few hiccups, was on its way to being made, and illustrator Joe had been asked to trial a cartoon strip for the local newspaper.

As Cat turned into Primrose Terrace, she shuddered at the thought of Joe, standing so close to her, his blue eyes, bright from the exhilaration of surfing, latched firmly onto hers. She had been so upset when she discovered his cartoon, Curiosity Kitten, was based on her. She had been trying to ignore the feelings that had been bubbling inside her, that told her she was upset because she wanted Joe to care about her – really care about her.

And then Joe had said just that. He had confessed about the cartoon, and told her that she was his inspiration. He had stroked her cheek, and his expression had filled in all the blanks.

But Cat was with Mark now. She had finally taken the next step with the scriptwriter who lived a few doors away. He was charming and handsome, occasionally still mysterious, as if he was hovering just out of reach, but she was learning to accept that was part of who he was. But he had found her and Joe in the tiny changing room in the back of the surfer van, Cat in only a towel, Joe’s wetsuit pulled down to the waist. It was innocent, they were talking, but Cat knew how it looked. She had escaped as quickly as she could, taking Chalky to the far end of the cove. She had done more thinking in the last couple of hours than she could bear, and she still wasn’t sure about her decision.

It had taken a long time to get to where she was with Mark. Could she really throw it away on one hurried conversation, one tender look? She tried to forget about the stolen hugs, the moments she’d shared with Joe over the last few months, and the way her heart rate increased when she pictured the warm smile that crinkled his blue eyes.

She was relieved and terrified when she saw Mark’s Audi was parked outside his house. He’d driven to the cove to take banners and food for the barbecue, so she knew for certain that he’d returned home.

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she climbed the steps up to number four and rang the bell. She heard it echo inside, and then fast feet running down the corridor. She bit her lip and waited for the door to open.

Mark’s border collie Chips ran straight into her, nudging her nose into her legs. She stroked the dog’s silky ears, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Mark. He was wearing the jeans and jumper he’d had on at the beach, his dark hair drying untidily around his face, but his expression was darker than she’d ever seen it. His lips were pressed together, and his brown eyes looked at her with a cold detachment that made her insides shrivel. She’d done nothing wrong, she told herself. She just had to make Mark believe it.