The Mistletoe Seller: A heartwarming, romantic novel for Christmas from the Sunday Times bestseller

‘I wouldn’t have bothered you, but Dolly is sick, and selling watercress doesn’t pay well. I wondered if you could give me some work. I’ll do anything.’

‘There, there, don’t fret, love. We’ll talk about it after you’ve got some good vittles inside you,’ Sally said, waving the wooden spoon in the air and sending drips of hot soup onto the floor, which were immediately lapped up by a small terrier who had been asleep in the corner and suddenly awakened.

Angel handed the mug to Jack. ‘Thank you for the tea. I feel better already.’ She leaned over to stroke the dog, and it leaped onto her lap, licking her face and wagging his stumpy tail.

‘Well, then,’ Jack said, laughing. ‘Stumpy doesn’t always take to strangers, but he obviously likes you, Angel. You must have a way with dogs.’

‘I’ve never had a pet,’ Angel said, laughing at the animal’s enthusiastic greeting. She stroked Stumpy’s head and he settled down on her lap. Warmth was beginning to seep into her bones and the sweet tea was also having its effect. ‘I’d like to have a dog like him. He’d keep me warm at night.’

‘And he’s a first-class ratter.’ Jack rose to his feet. ‘We get plagued by vermin, particularly in the winter. Stumpy deals with them for us.’

Stumpy looked up, wagging his tail and panting.

‘He looks as if he’s laughing.’ Angel gave the terrier a hug. ‘You are a funny little fellow.’

Jack moved his chair to the table. ‘Come and sit down, Angel. Sally’s vegetable broth will set you up for the rest of the day.’ He turned to his wife. ‘Where’s Danny? Are we waiting for him?’

Sally shook her head. ‘No, love, he’s gone looking for holly and mistletoe. I doubt if he’ll be back before dark.’

Angel made a move to rise and Stumpy clambered unwillingly to the floor. Behaving like a sulky child, he made his feelings very clear as he threw himself down on the scrap of blanket that served as his bed. Angel took her place at the table and Sally passed her a bowl of soup.

‘Help yourself to bread, my dear. It’s still warm from the oven.’

‘Thank you.’ Angel took a slice and buttered it sparingly. The fragrant aroma of the broth made her stomach rumble with anticipation, but, mindful of the manners drilled into her in the old days, she waited for her hosts to take their seats before she tasted the soup.

‘You could make a little money before Christmas if you sold mistletoe, Angel,’ Jack said thoughtfully. ‘Holly is always popular.’

Angel gulped down a mouthful of hot soup. ‘I’d try anything, Mr Wicks, but where would I get a supply? I haven’t seen any in the market.’

‘Mistletoe grows on all manner of trees. It’s particularly prolific in orchards and easy to pick from fruit trees. Danny will have gone a long way to find enough to fill his cart. Those who are in the know guard their sources as if they was gold dust. It’s a short season so they have to make the most of it.’

‘Maybe Danny could help her there, Jack.’ Sally took a slice of bread and broke it into small pieces. ‘A young girl selling mistletoe might be very appealing.’

‘We’ll ask him when he comes home.’ Jack turned to Angel with a beaming smile. ‘You’ll stay to meet our son, won’t you?’

‘I’d like to, but it gets dark very early, so I should start out soon. Thank you, all the same. Maybe I’ll just stick to watercress. After all, mistletoe isn’t wanted after Christmas.’

‘There’s plenty more soup in the pot,’ Sally said, smiling. ‘Help yourself to more bread, too.’

‘Thank you. This is so good, Mrs Wicks. I haven’t tasted food like this since I left home.’ Angel’s voice broke on a sob and she looked away. The memory of Aunt Cordelia and Lumpy Lil still brought her to tears. She tried to put all thought of her former life behind her, but it was not always possible.

‘Jack told me something of your past, dear. You’re a brave girl.’

Angel stared down at her plate. Their kindness was overwhelming, and if she allowed herself to cry she was afraid she might not be able to stop.

Sally patted her on the shoulder. ‘It looks like snow, maybe you ought to stay here for the night. We can put you up with no trouble, and you do look quite done in.’

‘That makes good sense, Sally,’ Jack said, frowning. ‘I saw the signs earlier this morning. Let’s hope Danny gets home before it starts.’ He turned to Angel. ‘You won’t make it back to Seven Dials before the weather breaks. Stay here tonight and I’ll see you safely home in the morning.’

Angel was about to refuse but Sally forestalled her. ‘Yes, you must. You can sleep in the parlour. I’ll light a fire in there as soon as I’ve cleared the table, and it will be nice and warm.’

‘What about Dolly?’ Angel said anxiously. ‘Who will take care of her if I’m not there to make sure she has something to eat and drink?’

‘I’m sure she’ll survive for one night without you, dear.’ Sally rose from her seat. ‘You wouldn’t be any use to her if you got lost in a snowstorm, would you?’

‘I suppose not.’

‘Good girl.’ Jack also stood up. ‘If you’ve finished your meal you can come outside and help put the tender plants under cover. I’ve built a lean-to shed so that the lavender can be protected from the worst of the winter weather. It’s our main source of income, so I can’t afford to lose a single plant.’

Angel could see that it was useless to argue, and the thought of being part of a family again, even for one night, was too tempting to refuse. She would have slept on the floor if necessary and the only thing that worried her was Dolly, but she had been a little better that morning, so perhaps she could manage on her own for a few more hours. Maybe one of the other girls would share their food with Dolly. Judy could be kind, if she was not in one of her sulks, and Maisie always seemed to have enough money to spend on feathers for her bonnet and ribbons for her hair. Dolly said that Maisie was not a good girl and would come to a sticky end, but Angel had not questioned her further. Although she had a vague idea how Maisie made her money, she preferred to remain in ignorance.

Outside the sky was the colour of slate and although it was early afternoon, darkness was creeping up on the marshes so that it was hard to tell the difference between land and the corpulent bank of cloud. Angel worked hard, helping Jack heft the large clay pots into the shelter of the lean-to, and they finished just as the first feathery flakes began to fall. At that moment the grating sound of a handcart’s wheels on the gravel path preceded Danny Wicks’ arrival. He stomped round the side of the house, stopping in surprise when he spotted Angel.

‘Who’s this, Pa?’

‘Where are your manners, son?’ Jack placed a protective arm around Angel’s shoulders. ‘This young lady is Angel Winter, one of the flower girls from Covent Garden. Angel, this rough fellow is my son, Daniel.’

‘How do you do?’ Angel said politely.

Danny glared at her. ‘She don’t sound like one of them girls, Pa.’

‘Never mind that. Put the cart away and come inside. Your ma has been fretting about you since noon.’

‘I’m fifteen, not five,’ Danny muttered as he pushed the laden cart under the sloping roof of the lean-to. ‘I’m doing a man’s job, aren’t I?’

Jack shrugged and opened the back door. ‘Go inside and get warm, Angel. I want a few words with my son.’

Angel was only too glad to return to the kitchen and was greeted by the aroma of hot cocoa. Sally handed her a mug. ‘Here, love. You’ll need this. You look frozen.’

‘Thank you.’ Angel wrapped her numbed fingers around the tin mug. ‘Your son has come home, Mrs Wicks. He’s got a big load of holly and mistletoe.’

‘Danny’s a good boy. He wanted to go to sea, but Jack managed to convince him that working the garden was a better life. I’m not too sure myself.’

Angel said nothing. She tucked herself away in a corner of the room, pulling up a three-legged stool to sit beside Stumpy. The dog nuzzled her hand and butted her with his head until she relented and made a fuss of him, but he lost interest when Danny walked into the house and he ran to him, jumping up and down and barking excitedly.

Danny picked the small dog up in his arms. ‘You silly fellow,’ he said fondly. ‘I’d have taken you with me, but I didn’t want to lose you down a rabbit hole like last time.’

Sally rushed forward to give her son a hug. ‘Come and sit by the fire, love. It’s freezing out there. Are you hungry?’

‘Don’t fuss, Ma.’ Danny shot a sideways glance at Angel. ‘What’s she doing here?’

‘Don’t be rude, Danny. Angel came all the way from St Giles to seek advice from your father, and I asked her to stay the night. It’s not fit for man nor beast out there in the snow.’

Danny put Stumpy back on the floor and the dog raced over to Angel and jumped onto her lap. ‘Just so long as you haven’t given her my room. I don’t want a kid meddling with my things.’ Danny accepted a mug of cocoa from his mother, giving Angel a withering look as he left the room.

Sally shook her head. ‘Don’t take any notice of him, Angel. Danny doesn’t mean half of what he says. He’s a good, kind boy really.’

‘I’m sure he is,’ Angel said doubtfully. ‘I don’t mean to be a nuisance, Mrs Wicks.’