Engaging Father Christmas Read Online Free PDF

head for the kitchen when out of the corner of my eye I saw that Josh was making a beeline for an empty table in the far back corner — the table next to Margaret’s.
    “Actually,” I said quickly intervening, “I think you would be better off at the table over here by the kitchen. There is more room for your baggage.”
    Boy, was that an understatement. If there were any way I could tuck him
inside
the kitchen, then our mutual baggage would be less obvious to everyone.
This is not good. I wish I’d insisted he leave instead of making a place for him.
    Ducking into the tiny kitchen and pulling the curtain shut behind me, I closed my eyes and tried to think. I could feel myself panting.
    “What is it?” Katharine asked.
    I put my finger to my lips, hopeful that nothing we said could be heard beyond the curtain. Yet I knew all too well how easily sound carried in this place.
    In a low whisper, I pointed to the other side of the wall. “My old boyfriend! I ran into him at the train station in London. I told him about Carlton Heath. I never thought he would come here!”
    Katharine, in her serene way, handed me a pot of fresh tea. “Please tell our guest the scones will be ready shortly.”
    If I hadn’t counted Katharine as a close friend as well as my (hopefully) soon-to-be mother-in-law, I would have protested.
    Exiting the kitchen with the pot of tea in one hand and a china cup and saucer in the other, I was aware that every eye in the room was on Josh. Some of the women stared from adjusted positions and postures that weren’t exactly covert. Flora, who owned the Bexley Lane Gifts and Curios Shoppe, had been preparing to leave her table at the Tea Cosy when I first arrived.
    She now had joined another table, and all three women had positioned their chairs so they faced the kitchen. As soon as I entered the dining area, I felt the curious gazes shift from Josh to their tea and scones, as if I were a teacher who had stepped out in the middle of an exam and returned before the naughty students had finished copying each other’s answers.
    Katharine followed me out of the kitchen and took another fresh pot of tea to Margaret. I appreciated her going to Margaret. Katharine would know what to say.
    As I placed the tea and cup in front of Josh, he said in a low voice, “Hey, I just realized this might be awkward for you.”
    I was sure he caught onto that brilliant insight as soon as he noticed the attention he was receiving from the curious audience.
    “It could be awkward for you, as well,” I whispered.
    “Is there someplace else we can go? Just for a few minutes?”
    I shook my head. “This is a very small village.”
    “So it seems. It’s great, though, isn’t it? Bexley Lane, just like the address printed on the back of the photo. I had no problem finding my way here. I can see why you like it so much.”
    “Josh, is there a reason you came here?” I knew if we kept our voices low, we might not be heard. This table by the kitchen was the most isolated, which is why few guests ever chose to sit there. It also helped if I stood because the way the table was angled, my back would block Josh from his audience.
    “I came because I was curious to see this place. My flight was overbooked, so when free tickets were offered in exchange for seats, I was the first one at the counter. My rescheduled flight goes out at midnight, and I thought, ‘Who knows when I’ll be in England again? Why not go to Carlton Heath?’ And here I am.”
    “But how did you know you would find me here at the Tea Cosy?”
    “That was easy. When I described you to the guy at the train station, he said you had gone off with someone named Ian in his Austin-Healy. He said Ian is related to the owner of this place.”
    I felt myself relaxing slightly. His explanations made sense. This was his idea of a diversion. A little adventure. He would drink a cup of tea, leave, and tell all his associates about his train ride to the English