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  A Match Made At Christmas © 2018 by Ellen Jane. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by Ellen Jane, with thanks to brushes by Brusheezy.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Ellen Jane

  Visit my website at www.ellenjanephillips.com

  A match made at Christmas

  Ellen Jane

  CONTENTS

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Author Notes

  About The Author

  Also By Ellen Jane

  One

  Lee has two quid left to her name, and she intends to spend it all on kicking Max’s arse.

  “Are you watching?” she asks, leaning against the booth while the attendant selects a tray of hoops for her.

  The frosty November air swirls around them, bringing with it the scent of Christmas. Lee smells hot market food and steaming mugs of chocolate on the wind, and her stomach rumbles in anticipation. It has been so long since she thought about anything other than studying, but Max has dragged her away from her assignments for a day, and Lee already feels lighter for it. Twenty-two years old and she’s already embracing the life of a hermit. Can’t be good for her posture.

  Max rolls her eyes and runs a hand through her spiky blonde hair. “I’m telling you, it’s rigged, man. The hoops don’t fit over the little totem thingies.”

  Lee hands over her money and accepts the tray. “Sure, sure. That’s what they all say.”

  She focuses on the crooked little totems, sucks in a steadying breath, and throws her first hoop. It rattles around the top of the grey totem and settles.

  Lee whoops. “Did you see that, Max? Success, baby!”

  Max gapes at the totems, wrinkling her nose and glaring when Lee throws another and another, until all five of her hoops are hooked onto the front totem.

  “You’re cheating,” Max insists.

  “Busted.” Lee grins, thanking the attendant as he hands over a giant, over-stuffed reindeer. “I got the man to switch my hoops with ones that fly.” She snorts. “How could I cheat? You throw the hoops. They land. That’s it.”

  “Still say you cheated.”

  Lee lifts the reindeer into the air and gallops it across the air in front of Max’s head. “You’re just jealous,” she says in a singsong voice. “It’s my lucky day, and you want in.”

  Snow drifts around them as Max gives her a sideways glance, mouth quirking at the sides. “I want in on your lucky charms, do I?”

  She leers, and Lee whacks her over the head with the reindeer.

  “Ew, don’t be crass.”

  “You love it.”

  They make a strange pair, like always. Max is dressed mostly in black, which makes her spiky blonde hair pop out. But beneath her black coat she is a chequerboard of colour, with band and pop culture patches held onto her denim jacket by safety pins. It’s hard to know where to look sometimes, there’s simply so much to take in. In contrast to Max’s somber outward appearance, Lee can’t leave the house without coordinating a maximum of three colours, all of which are made more difficult to choose because they have to match her long, red hair.

  Lee and Max tried dating for a little while after they finished high school. But they realised they had no interest in each other apart from friendship and gave up after a month. Besides, Lee was, and still is, in love with Max’s older sister, Jo—a fact which had doomed their brief relationship before it began.

  “Hey!” Max grabs Lee by the shoulder and points to a tiny stall tucked between two food carts. “Does that say tarot readings?”

  Lee grimaces. “If I say yes, will you make me get one?”

  “Absolutely not,” Max answers as she steers Lee to the single-table stall shrouded in velvet cloth.

  The velvet is old and worn, faded around the edges like it has seen sunlight too often. The curtains in Lee’s father’s study were like that, just as the books in his bookshelf were filled with sun-stained pages from being left open on his desk for too long. To Lee, these are the signs of overworking yourself without knowing how to pause.

  They’re the signs of caring so little about anything but work, you don’t try.

  A candle is lit on the edge of the bench. It’s tall, but Lee suspects more than half of it has worn away. Globules of wax have dribbled down the side and built up a messy casing, and Lee wonders how much longer the wick will light without being cut and maintained. With the wind like it is, she isn’t sure how it’s even still lit.

  “Draw a card from the deck?” A girl sits forward from behind the booth, the flickering light barely reaching her face. “Only two pounds, and I can tell you the secrets of your heart.”

  She is wearing jeans and an old overcoat, and she has at least two scarves visible around her neck. Her eyes are rimmed with black liner and her ears have large silver hoops through them, but the hoops are plain and the liner looks like it could be several days old. She doesn’t carry herself like someone trying to scam tourists out of a quick quid, but Lee supposes she wouldn’t know what that would look like if she was. Regardless, it isn’t working as it is clear the girl has no money.

  Lee wishes she hadn’t given away her last two pounds for this stupid reindeer. Not only because it looks like the girl could use the cash, but because something about her seems… honest. Lee rarely buys into anything mystical, but when she meets the girl’s eyes, she is struck by a wave of certainty that whatever this girl says will be the truth.

  “Here,” Max says, handing over the coins with a smile before shoving Lee to the front. “Do her.”

  Lee stumbles and catches herself on the table before glaring at Max. “Me? Why me?”

  “You know for damn sure I’m not risking jinxing myself. The future can stay a secret as God and the Universe intended.” She grins. “You, however, could stand to be knocked down a peg.”

  Lee pulls a face and shoves her reindeer at Max’s chest before facing the booth. Truthfully, she doesn’t mind. She isn’t superstitious like Max, and she did want to give the girl some money.

  “All right,” she taps her fingers on the counter, restless though she can’t work out why. “What do I do?”

  The girl smiles at her, a little knowing, like she can tell Lee is nervous. “What’s your name? I’m Rebecca.”

  “Lee.”

  Rebecca shuffles the deck, cutting the cards into strange patterns before collecting them up again. “Do you have a question, Lee? Something you’d like the cards to answer?”

  Lee shakes her head, mesmerised by Rebecca’s quick movements and the cards themselves. The back design is strange. It doesn’t look like any other tarot deck she’s ever seen.

  “Perhaps a two card spread, then,” Rebecca suggests. “The first card describes your current situation to you, and the second reveals a clue to help you resolve the problem you’re facing. How does that sound?”

  “Great,” Lee says with a shrug.

  Rebecca holds the cards for a moment, closing her eyes and whispering to herself. She hands the deck to Lee, who fumbles to take them.

  “What do I—”

  “Just hold them.” Rebecca’s eyes crinkle at the corners, and Lee calms a little. “You don’t hav
e a question in mind, so try to empty your thoughts so that the cards may pick up on anything hidden.”

  Lee tries to clear her mind, but ridiculous images pop in to distract her: dancing reindeer and Max pulling faces; Jo wearing that leather jacket she’d bought last winter and hardly taken off the entire length of her stay back home. She bites her lip, latches onto a millisecond of calm, and hands the cards back.

  “Ready?” Rebecca asks.

  “Lay it on me.”

  Lee braces herself, shooting Max another death glare she doesn’t actually mean. She’s enjoying herself, even if the cold is biting through her layers now she’s stopped moving.

  Rebecca turns over the first card, her face breaking into a smile. “The lovers,” she says, looking up at Lee, her voice teasing. “This is good fortune. Did you have someone in mind?”

  Lee clears her throat and mutters, “No.”

  Her cheeks heat as she refuses to look at Max. Max doesn’t know about Jo, and Lee intends to keep it that way.

  “Connection begins with opening your mind, with readying one’s self to face the mirror and accept the truth that stares back.”

  Rebecca traces the image of the two lovers with her fingers, and Lee realises why the cards are so strange. They aren’t printed; they’re painted directly onto the paper. She gapes at the card and then at Rebecca, who hasn’t noticed her reaction. Given the state of the rest of her things, Lee guesses Rebecca wouldn't shell out the money for a bespoke tarot deck; she must have painted them herself.

  Rebecca continues speaking, unaware of the thoughts racing through Lee’s head, although Max is looking at Lee with narrowed eyes.

  “It might be time to explore the mirror’s image. Union is built on duality, an ebb and flow. We are drawn to it even if we are not ready. As this card reflects your current situation, it is likely you need to make a decision.”

  She meets Lee’s eyes, her own free of subterfuge. Lee trusts her.

  Before Lee can speak, Rebecca turns the next card over. Her expression is unreadable.

  “Wheel of fortune,” she says. “Usually a good omen, particularly in this two card spread since we’re looking for insight into resolving your current situation. However, in this reading, the card is reversed.”

  Max winces.

  “Reversed?” Lee asks, bracing herself. “What does that mean?”

  “It means the luck that should flow towards you is stuck,” she explains. “There is resistance, perhaps an unwillingness to change.” She taps the lovers card again. “It may hold the key to this decision you are reluctant to make, especially if this decision has trapped you in a negative and destructive cycle. Placed as a mirror to the lovers, this card suggests there is something you must do before you can accept your good fortune.”

  “Who doesn’t want to accept good fortune?” Lee protests, while Max elbows her in the ribs.

  Rebecca grins. “Some people like to wallow. But no, I would suggest looking inward towards areas of responsibility and change. Something is stuck, and until you clear it, your luck will never flow.”

  “You would suggest, or the cards would suggest?”

  “We’re in agreement.” Rebecca’s eyes crinkle again.

  Lee gives a dramatic sigh. “That sounds about right.”

  They thank Rebecca and leave, Max tipping her the last of her change and patting Lee on the back as they go.

  “Great,” Lee grumbles. “Now I can worry all afternoon.”

  She spots something shining on the ground and bends to pick it up while Max launches into an in-depth analysis of each of the tarot cards. The shiny thing is soft and papery, and as Lee picks it up, she realises it’s an old-fashioned book of matches.

  “The thing about the lovers, is—” Max continues, illustrating her point with nonsensical hand gestures.

  Lee tunes her out, studying the little matchbook. It was half buried in the snow, but it’s dry to touch and it glitters as she twists it in the light, even though the cardboard isn’t holographic or covered in cellophane. The Early Wanderer is written on the back in elegant script. The name rings a bell, but Lee can’t recall why. She lifts the flap, and despite how old it is, it’s almost full.

  “—And if it’s the first card in the reading, you can hardly—”

  She runs her finger across the top of the matches, but they’re as dry as the outside. She frowns; not only are they dry but they’re shiny, which is impossible. Not to mention she’s never seen match-heads as white as snow. She takes one out and strikes it against the back of the matchbook.

  It bursts into light. Tiny sparks explode and fade into the air to leave behind a steady flame. Lee almost drops it and instantly glances behind her to make sure no one saw her freaking out over a match doing exactly what matches are expected to do. It’s just, with all the talk of lovers and luck, she can’t help looking for a sign that something lucky is waiting around the corner.

  She knows how that good fortune would reveal itself. She knows what colour hair it has, what its smile looks like beneath the stars after too many late-night drinks, the sound it makes when it laughs at something she says.

  Lee blows out the match and pockets the matchbook before Max sees her acting like a twat and asks why.

  Lee turns to Max, intending to ask her to repeat the last couple of sentences while hoping she can catch enough of the thread of conversation to answer, but Max’s attention is captured by something in the distance. Her face breaks open into a smile and she points, giving a sharp whoop of delight, before she runs towards the entrance.

  Lee’s stomach flips. She already knows what Max is pointing to—who Max is pointing to. Only one thing can make her go that giddy with excitement, particularly when this Christmas would have otherwise been a quiet one with no visitors.

  Only Jo can drive a stoic and reserved woman to revert to the little sister hanging on every word her older sibling says. Max’s sister means more to her than anyone else in the world, more even than her best friend. Growing up, their home situation was bad, and even after eight years Lee still doesn’t know the details. Neither Max nor Jo ever talk about it, falling silent whenever it comes up. There are only two people in their inner circle: Max and Jo.

  Lee would never come between that or risk ruining the relationship they all share, because that would violate every kind of best friend code. And Lee gets it; she gets why Max loves Jo so much.

  Which only makes everything that much harder.

  Two

  Lee!” Jo’s smile is wide and a little crooked as she sweeps Lee into a hug. “Where’ve you been, babe? I missed you.”

  Jo’s hair falls around Lee’s face, brunette curls cascading over the two of them. She smells like jasmine shampoo and coffee. Her black coat is open, despite the cold, revealing that damn leather jacket Lee admires a little too much. She can hear it crinkling between them as they hug, months of distance erased in seconds of warmth and laughter.

  Lee laughs and wriggles her way out of the hug. “Don’t blame me; you’re the one who’s living on the other side of the bloody country.”

  “Pure semantics.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” Lee ducks out of the way of a hair ruffle that she knows from experience is about to become a noogie.

  Jo winks at her and grabs Max instead, laughing as Max shrieks.

  “What’re you doing home?” Max asks once she’s broken free. “I thought you weren’t coming back this Christmas?”

  “Guess I couldn’t stay away.”

  Lee glances at Jo, and her breath catches when she realises Jo is already watching her. The wind snags several of Jo’s long curls, whipping them across her face in a frenzy which makes the rest of her seem unusually still, poised. The second their eyes meet, Jo turns back to Max, and Lee is left wondering if she imagined it or if Jo had been watching her for much longer.

  “Like hell,” Max protests. “I begged you for the whole of September, don’t you remember? And you wouldn’t budge.”

>   “Yeah,” Jo says, leading the way back towards the road. “And after I told you ‘no’, you ignored my messages all through October, like a brat. Do you remember that?”

  “Excuse me, it’s called consequences. You’re meant to learn from them.”

  “I’m pretty sure the silent treatment died out in the nineties, along with butterfly clips and metallic crop tops, may they rest in burning hell.”

  “I think they’re back,” Lee says, grinning.

  Jo’s eyes widen, scandalous. “No.”

  “‘Fraid so.”

  Lee makes a mental note what to buy Jo for Christmas. Then, she spends a furious ten seconds trying not to get distracted picturing Jo wearing a neon purple top cut off at her midriff.

  “Shall we go to the pub?” Jo asks as they fall into step along the crowded shopping strip that runs beside the market. “Or are you guys still shopping?”

  “Nah, I’m all shopped out.” Lee lifts the stuffed reindeer in a salute while Max nods her agreement.

  “Lee got her fortune told,” Max says with a grin. “And she hasn’t stopped looking all doe-eyed since.”

  Jo lifts her eyebrows. “Oh? Anything good?”

  Max bursts into song. “Love is in the air!”

  Somewhere in the circles of hell, there is a room reserved for Max, even if Lee has to pay for it herself.

  “Quit it.” She gives Max a little shove. “They’re just cards. It means nothing.”

  “Yeah?” Max elbows her right back. “Is that why you keep blushing and staring into the distance, then? Got someone in mind, Lee?”

  Lee glances at Jo—she’s powerless not to—who is watching with a strange expression on her face. Lee can’t read it. Before she can speak, Jo looks away.

  “What were you saying about the pub?” Lee asks, glaring at Max.

  Max lets it go, and they make their way through the streets to the local pub. Snow drifts around them, dampening the noise and making the world go soft. Somewhere along the line, Jo ended up in the middle, and every so often her arm bumps against Lee’s. Even with so many layers of coats and jumpers between them, the contact sends shivers along Lee’s skin.