CHAPTER ONE

      WHAT EMMA SINCLAIR needed right now was a magic wand.

      One that she could wave over the calendar on her wall and simply make the month of December vanish.

      Turn it into January and the start of a new year. A new life.

      Or not.

      Maybe she could use the wand not to wish time away but to freeze it. To make it always early December, with her feeling so well she could imagine the last few years had been nothing more than a very bad dream.

      It was getting a little stuffy in her tiny London apartment. Emma moved to crack open the window to let some fresh air in for a moment. Very fresh air. The sky was a dark slate and that cloud cover clearly swollen with moisture but it wasn’t likely to start falling as pretty snowflakes. A bit of stinging sleet, maybe. Or freezing fog.

      London could be so grey at this time of year.

      So bleak. It was only mid-afternoon but already there were lights on everywhere. In the street below and in the windows of the apartment buildings she looked out onto. Not just ordinary lights either. Some people already had their Christmas trees up and the row of shops at street level had them in their front windows with multi-coloured lights flashing and twinkling. Somebody was dressed as Father Christmas on the street, too, handing out flyers to passers-by, probably offering a discount on some seasonal service or product.

      There were lots of people hurrying about their business, wrapped up in coats and scarfs. Umbrellas were opening as the clouds decided to let go of some of the moisture. Mothers made sure their prams were well covered and tried to juggle parcels and small children to keep them sheltered.

      So many people.

      Families.

      Funny how a crowd could make you feel so much more alone.

      The phone ringing was a welcome distraction.

      ‘Sharon … What’s the weather like in sunny California?’

      ‘Gorgeous. Doesn’t feel right when it’s December. And how did that happen? It feels like yesterday that I was having my summer wedding in good ol’ Blighty. Is it all grey and freezing?’

      ‘Sure is.’ She would need to remember to close the window as soon as she’d finished talking to her closest friend. She stepped closer to the friendly glow of her small, gas fire.

      ‘What are you doing?’

      ‘Right at this minute? I’m looking at one of your wedding photos on my mantelpiece. You were the world’s most beautiful bride. You look so happy.’

      ‘Aww … I had the best bridesmaid. That helped.’

      Emma laughed. ‘You were marrying the love of your life—that’s what helped. How’s Andy?’

      ‘Gorgeous. We were talking about you last night and