It’s a Wonderful Life: The Christmas bestseller is back with an unforgettable holiday romance. Julia Williams
both a chance to clear our heads. I have a little money saved up, and besides, what else are credit cards for?
I’ve just clicked on a website offering winter breaks when my phone buzzes. Jo. Oh fuck, I’m not ready for this. She’s sent me a couple of texts since the New Year, but I’ve ignored them. I’m not strong enough to cope with her yet.
How are you doing? Worried about you xxx
Really? Really? Why would she even care? She was the one who broke my heart. I’m so angry with her for saying this that I break my no contact rule and before I can stop myself I’m furiously typing out a reply.
You could have fooled me, I text back.
Don’t be like that, Lou Lou, is the response. Can’t we be friends?
Of course we can’t. I’m far too raw. What is she thinking? I want to text something angry back, but I know from bitter experience (oh, I have so much bitter experience!) that it won’t help, so I content myself with: Sorry, not ready for that yet. Maybe one day.
The phone beeps again. It seems such a shame. Didn’t we have some good times?
Yes, we did, I think, and then some not so good times. I had hoped that she was the real deal, that finally I’d found someone to share my life with, but for her I was clearly a little interlude. I can’t say any of that though, without sounding appallingly needy, and I won’t give her the satisfaction.
Sorry, Jo, that’s the way it is. Please don’t text me.
Not unless you want me back, I’d like to add, but I know that’s not going to happen.
I switch my phone off, and return to the website. A week in Tenerife looks like the best thing ever. Life’s too short to be miserable. I click on the link before I can change my mind, and quickly book our flights. Mum will probably think I’m interfering, but I reckon we both deserve the break.
Beth
The meeting is excruciating. It’s so weird having Jack sitting here, and for some reason I’m finding it hard to look him in the eye. From the outset it’s clear that Vanessa hates my drawings, and she makes her feelings very plain. There is no attempt at finesse, or trying to soften the blow. My initial warmth turns to hostility and by the time the meeting is halfway through, I am boiling with rage.
‘I just didn’t picture the Littlest Angel like this,’ she says. ‘I think she needs to be cuter.’
She does have a point. My angel looks sharper than I intended, and slightly demented. Cute she definitely is not.
‘I admit she’s not quite right yet,’ I say, ‘but I don’t want to draw Disney angels, I’m afraid.’
‘I think that’s exactly what you should be going for,’ says Vanessa. ‘Cute and sweet is what sells at Christmas, particularly in the US.’
She also hates the spread which has the angel talking to one of the statues on top of St Peter’s.
‘Hmm, I don’t quite see why she would be going to Rome?’ she says. ‘It just doesn’t work for me.’
‘It just doesn’t work for me,’ is one of a number of Vanessa’s pet sayings that I am beginning to hate.
‘But why would she be going to Paris or London?’ I say.
‘They sell better to Americans,’ was the swift response. So that’s all right then.
Jack has been quiet up to this point, but he intervenes now.
‘Maybe the story isn’t quite right yet,’ he says. ‘Perhaps that’s where Beth is having the problem. I know I’ve just come into this, but I am struggling with the concept a bit. Beth, is there a reason why the angel is going round the cities of the world? I may be missing something, but it doesn’t make much sense to me. Sorry, I hope you don’t think I’m being too critical.’
He smiles over at me with the crooked grin I remember so well, and my heart lurches a little, and I’m back in time again, back to the first night he grinned at me like that. I pull myself together and shoot him a grateful look.
‘That’s not how it was planned originally,’ I explain. ‘My story was actually simpler than that, but I couldn’t seem to get it out right, so Vanessa suggested this direction.’
I don’t say what’s really in my head, namely that Vanessa’s idea has made things worse, but I’m pleased when Jack says, ‘Is it worth looking at it again?’
Vanessa looks deeply irritated. ‘We’re under a lot of time pressure here, Jack, I think we should work this current idea up till it’s right.’
‘Fair enough,’ says Jack, and winks at me in a conspiratorial fashion. I feel slightly light-headed. I blush and look away, grateful for his intervention, but unable to process the confusion I’m feeling. I’m still reeling from the shock of seeing him again. During our three years at art school we were very close – except he never quite reciprocated my feelings in the way I wanted him to. For Jack, I was only ever his occasional hook-up, but I was blindly in love, and like a fool I always thought it would lead to more. In his own way, he was quite honest about it. He used to tell me he was a free spirit who didn’t want to be tied down. I was so infatuated that I bought into it for far too long – until the day I caught him sleeping with my then best friend, Kerry. Then it was as if the scales had fallen from my eyes, and despite Jack’s protestations that I was always going to be the one he came back to I finally came to my senses. After that, we drifted apart, and I met Daniel the following year at teaching college. He was so different from Jack; kind, caring, funny; it was so easy to fall in love with him. I was head over heels before I knew it, and pregnant quicker than expected. All of a sudden I was a mum at home looking after two small children, all thoughts of Jack Stevens forgotten. Well, mostly forgotten. I have had the odd wayward daydream about what would happen if I ever saw Jack again. But I never seriously expected it to happen.
I’ve never even told Daniel much about him. I felt like such a fool for falling for Jack’s lines, and in the early days of our relationship, I didn’t want Daniel to know about my stupidity. As time went on, it became irrelevant. Jack Stevens had disappeared from my life, and I hadn’t properly thought about him in years. Seeing him in the flesh again is such a shock. I’d forgotten about those brilliant blue eyes …
The meeting ends inconclusively, with me promising to go away and rework both the text and drawings. As we pack up our things, Jack suggests coffee, and before I can think too much I say yes. I’m curious to know what he’s been up to, and he reminds me of a part of my life that I’d almost forgotten about, when I was young and free and wanted to change the world with my art.
‘Well, well, Lizzie Holroyd,’ he says as we squeeze into a busy Caffè Nero near the office. ‘I can’t tell you how great it is to see you again.’
He flashes that gorgeous smile at me and I feel a bit dizzy. This is insane. What is going on in my head?
‘It’s good to see you too,’ I say, because aside from the dizziness, it is. ‘It’s Beth now, by the way.’ I put Lizzie behind me with Jack, and Daniel has only ever known me as Beth.
Jack raises his eyebrows. ‘So, Beth, how’s life as a successful picture-book artist?’ he says. ‘I always knew you’d do well.’
‘Flatterer,’ I say, but secretly I’m pleased. Emotions aside, Jack was one of the most talented people in our year. His good opinion always mattered to me back then, and I’m surprised at how much it matters to me now. ‘To be honest I’m not really enjoying it much at the moment. This damned book is killing me,’ I say. ‘I’ve never had such difficulty working a story out.’
‘You’ll get there,’ he says. ‘You’re disgustingly talented, you