No One Cancels Christmas: The most laugh out loud romantic comedy this Christmas!. Zara Stoneley

poised at the top of the big dipper and know there’s no turning back. I’m not scared of him. Okay, maybe I am a bit; well, not scared of him, more scared of what’s going to happen. I don’t want him to ruin the resort. I don’t want to get there and find he’s trampled over my memories with his big snow-boots. It’s important I get this right, but it’s also important I do it my way. Something tells me that if I don’t he’ll just head me off, like he’s deflected all the emails and crap reviews.

      I shove a pair of massive pink knickers (that Sam insisted on) into a corner of the bag. By the time anybody gets all these bloody layers off, sex will be the last thing they’ll have on their mind. How does anybody get a quickie out there?

      Then it suddenly dawns on me that I may have found the key to Mr Armstrong’s lack of cooperation. Maybe the poor man just needs unwrapping, and beneath the layers I will find a soft centre.

      Or maybe not.

      Today I am biker boots, thick black tights, denim shorts and a T-shirt I found in the charity shop. ‘Life’s a Mountain, Not a beach’ is emblazoned across the front and it seemed strangely appropriate when I saw it. A bargain buy at two quid, as opposed to the several hundred quid price tags which I’ve just spotted on some of this clobber.

      I feel a bit queasy. My bank balance is not fit for ‘designer’ it is more ‘buy one, get one free’. But I do want to look the part. And I am determined to show Aunt Lynn that I am up for this. One, because the business will one day be mine, and two because she’s leaving me at Christmas and I am not, repeat NOT going to let it get to me.