Portia MacIntosh - Love and Lies at The Village Christmas Shop - A laugh out loud romantic comedy perfect for Christmas 2018

PORTIA MACINTOSHhas been ‘making stuff up’ for as long as she can remember – or so she says. Whether it was blaming her siblings for that broken vase when she was growing up, blagging her way backstage during her rock chick phase or, most recently, whatever justification she can fabricate to explain away those lunchtime cocktails, Portia just loves telling tales.

After years working as a music journalist, Portia decided it was time to use her powers for good and started writing novels instead.

Bestseller Portia writes hilarious romcoms, drawing on her real life experiences to show what it’s really like being a woman today – especially one who doesn’t quite have her life together yet.

Between A Rockstar and A Hard Place

How Not to Be Starstruck

Bad Bridesmaid

Drive Me Crazy

Truth or Date

It’s Not You, It’s Them

The Accidental Honeymoon

How Not to Be a Bride

Summer Secrets at the Apple Blossom Deli

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018

Copyright © Portia MacIntosh 2018

Portia MacIntosh asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for 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, downloaded, 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.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means,

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without the prior permission of the publishers.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade

or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without

the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than

that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this

condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

E-book Edition © October 2018 ISBN: 9780008297725

Version: 2018-09-25

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Also by Portia MacIntosh

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue – 1998

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

Dear Reader,

About the Publisher

For

J K J A J P

B T D

‘Holly Jones, what have you done?’ I hear my mum ask through gritted teeth, with enough volume to show that she’s angry, but not so much that the shop full of customers can hear her.

I remove my nose from my copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone to see what exactly my sister has done now. I wouldn’t usually jump to conclusions, but this is Holly, and Holly will do anything if it has enough shock value.

We went our separate ways at the school gates no more than a couple of hours ago. Holly wanted to go into town with her mates for a while before tea, but I wanted to come here and read my book, sitting on my stool behind the counter of my mum’s Christmas shop. I always enjoy spending time here but now that it’s December – and actually Christmas time – the place feels all the more magical.

This afternoon the shop is overflowing with tourists, who have travelled from all over to check out Marram Bay’s open-year-round Christmas shop. Christmas Every Day is so much more than just a shop though, it’s like a magical Santa’s workshop, with wall-to-wall Christmas decorations and gifts, with glitter and twinkly lights everywhere you look. Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ is pumping out through speakers around the shop. It’s such an infectious song, which you can’t help but love and sing along to. I’m not even sure I can name another Mariah Carey song, but this one is a Christmas classic.

Despite the trees in the shop being artificial (they do have to stay up all year round, after all), my mum has these special pine air fresheners which, combined with the locally made gingerbread she’s selling at the counter at the moment, give the place a real, irresistible Christmassy smell that I can’t get enough of. Perhaps my favourite part of all – and a favourite feature of many of the customers who visit the shop – is the steam train that runs on a track around the shop, over bridges, through tunnels and even around the shop Christmas tree that stays up all year.

From the second you walk through the door there’s just this magical feeling in the air. That warm, hopeful, festive feeling you only get at Christmas time. It makes you want to eat gingerbread, sing carols and be happy with your loved ones – and I get to experience it all year round.

But while I might share my mum’s love and passion for all things festive, my twin sister Holly absolutely does not. In fact, she has such a strong dislike for the most wonderful time of year that she always acts up around the holidays. And now, here she is, like clockwork, on 1st December, with a drastic new hairstyle that my mum did not sign off on.

Holly’s previously shoulder-length blonde hair, along with her hairline and most of her neck, is now bright red.

‘It’s just like Lisa Scott-Lee’s,’ my sister says, running both (stained red) hands through her hair, by way of an explanation. I think it’s safe to say that her obsession with Steps has reached its peak.

‘You’re my 14-year-old daughter, you’re not Lisa Scott-Lee,’ my mum reminds her as she serves a customer. When the shop is so busy, my mum is forced to parent around working – or work around parenting, whichever needs to take priority at the time.

I laugh quietly to myself, although not quietly enough.

‘Oh, should I want to be a wizard when I grow up, like Ivy does?’ she says mockingly.

I clutch my book to my chest self-consciously.

The customer my mum is serving laughs as she watches our little family drama play out in front of her.