Read Online Holly's Christmas Kiss by Alison May - Free Book Online

to the standard class part of the train. It was busy with people heading home for Christmas. Bodies, luggage and bags filled with presents were jammed into every available space. Michelle fought her way through, reading the reservations displayed above each seat, and discounting everything that started ‘London to’ . Eventually she found a single window seat which was only reserved from Newcastle onwards. She stripped off her coat and left it on the seat to stake her claim while she manoeuvred her suitcase onto the luggage rack.
    Michelle sank into the seat and closed her eyes, but she couldn’t relax. The carriage was filling up around her. Across the aisle was a mother with two young children and a bored looking teenage boy, who slumped into his seat and immediately start ed fiddling with his phone. In the aisle a group of older teenagers, students she guessed, were talking loudly and trying to make space to sit on the luggage rack.
    ‘Finally!’ The voice was female, the tone haughty, but with an undercurrent of thick West Yorkshire, which , Michelle guessed, the speaker had spent years trying to eradicate. The stranger gestured at the empty aisle seat next to Michelle. ‘This is me.’
    Michelle squashed tight ly against the window to let the woman sit down and got a proper look at her companion as she did so. She was wearing a navy blue suit over a crisp white blouse, with dark court shoes. Her hair was cropped short and was unapologetically white. The outfit suggested conformity, but the hair said she didn’t really care.
    The woman eased herself into her seat and glanced at Michelle. ‘Do you mind?’
    She gestured towards her feet, which she was already easing out of the court shoes.
    It seemed a little unusual, but Michelle smiled. ‘Make yourself comfortable.’
    As the train pulled away, and Michelle tried to concentrate on her novel, she realised the woman was staring at her.
    ‘I know you.’
    ‘I don’t think so.’ Michelle smiled and turned back to her book.
    ‘I do. I don’t forget a face.’ The woman pursed her lips, as if her inability to remember was Michelle’s fault. ‘Turn your head that way.’
    The instruction was delivered with such certainty that Michelle obediently turned her face so the woman could observe her profile.
    ‘I’ll work it out. Where are you from?’
    ‘Leeds.’
    ‘Ah-ha! How old are you?’
    ‘Twenty-nine.’
    ‘Too old.’
    ‘I’m sorry.’ Michelle responded without thinking. The woman tutted. Again, Michelle felt as thought she was somehow at fault.
    ‘Brothers or sisters?’
    ‘Not really.’
    ‘You’re not sure?'
    ‘Half-brothers. A lot younger than me.’ Michelle petered off. Was the stranger expecting a full family tree?
    Apparently not. She held up a hand. ‘Don’t tell me. It’s coming!’
    She screwed her face up in concentration. ‘Joseph Jolly! And Noel Jolly. You’re Noel Jolly’s big sister.’
    Michelle opened her mouth in surprise, but the woman stopped her again. ‘I said don’t tell me. Polly? Molly? Holly! Holly Jolly! Two hundred new children to learn every year, and twice as many parents, but I never forget a face.’
    ‘People call me Michelle.’ Michelle peered at her companion. ‘Mrs Bickersleigh?’
    ‘Miss!’ The tone was imperious.
    ‘Sorry, Miss Bickersleigh.’ Michelle heard herself chorusing the words like a schoolgirl, which was ridiculous. The woman had never been her teacher. So far as she could remember she’d only actually met her once, at Noel’s nativity play. That must have been twelve years ago. Apparently, she truly never did forget a face.
    ‘You can call me Jean. And, now I know this, you’re Barbara Eccle’s  niece, aren’t you?’
    Michelle nodded.
    ‘Barbara and I go way back. My brother took her to see The Beatles in Scarborough. 1963 it must have been. Waste of the price of a ticket that was. She wouldn’t let him past her cardigan.’ The woman sighed. ‘So what brought you down