‘I’m so sorry, Kathleen,’ Holly said, carrying me closer. I wriggled a little until she put me down, then curled up on her feet. I wasn’t going anywhere until I knew that Jack was definitely okay. Doctors, I knew, were like human vets. I wanted to hear him say Jack was all right. ‘We were trying to organise a Christmas surprise for you. And, well, for ourselves, too. We decorated the whole street with lights, but then the power blew, and Jack fell … and now everything’s ruined.’
‘A Christmas surprise?’ Kathleen said, sounding astonished. ‘For me?’
‘I’m so sorry we messed it up.’
‘Darling, just the idea that you thought of me, at such a busy time of year …’ She reached over and kissed Holly on the cheek. ‘Bless you, my dear. Bless you.’
‘Well, I don’t think there’s any permanent damage,’ Dr Roberts said, getting to his feet from where he’d been kneeled beside Jack. ‘But I’ll want to keep an eye on you for a day or so, and absolutely no ladders. Okay?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Jack sat up again and, this time, everyone let him. A man reached out a hand to help him to his feet. ‘Now, how about we get some lights back on around here, hey?’
‘Already on it,’ someone else called, from over by Holly’s house. ‘My brother works for the electric company. He’ll get someone out here as quick as can be and we’ll have power again in no time.’
I shifted over to lean against Jack’s leg, just to check he was really fine. That I hadn’t hurt him too badly.
And yes, okay, to remind him I was still there, and that he’d promised me gingerbread.
‘Come on then,’ Jack said. ‘We’ve still got a lot to do before tomorrow. And I did promise Claude some gingerbread.’
I barked my approval at that, and Holly laughed. ‘Of course he’s learnt that word.’
She turned, Jack at her side, me at their feet, to make her way through the crowd to her own house. She almost made it, too.
But then, all conversation stopped, as the thundering voice of Mrs Templeton cut through the night.
‘What the devil is going on here?’
It was nearly midnight before Daisy and Oliver returned to the hotel. Feeling fuzzy after several glasses of very lovely wine, Daisy clung to Oliver’s arm and buried her head against his shoulder to protect against the bitter French cold as they made their way back.
Christmas, Daisy had decided, might not be a total disaster after all. They were all together, she’d had a lovely night out with her husband for the first time in over a year, and now she got to spend the night in a nice hotel before travelling home to Claude in the morning. The kind hotel owners had even let them put the perishables from their M&S hamper in the fridge, so there was an outside chance the smoked salmon might still be good tomorrow. The turkey they’d left in the fridge at the chateau. There were limits to how many food miles Daisy was willing to chalk up for her Christmas dinner.
No, all in all, things could be a lot worse. Really, far, far—
‘Oh bollocks,’ she said, coming to a sudden stop in the middle of the road.
‘Oh hell,’ Oliver said, stopping with her. ‘What now?’
‘Bloody Santa Claus.’ How could she have forgotten the most important job she had on Christmas Eve? Santa needed his parent-elves after all. And Jay would never understand if Father Christmas didn’t arrive for them all tonight.
Oliver groaned. ‘Maybe he couldn’t find us. Maybe he’s left all the presents ready for us back at Maple Drive.’
‘Yeah, because that’s going to work with Jay.’ Daisy sighed. ‘No, there’s nothing for it. We’re going to have to go fetch all the presents from the car and break into their room.’
‘Without waking Jay or Bella,’ Oliver said, sceptically. ‘Somehow that seems less likely than the Maple Drive thing.’
‘I know.’ Jay was a notoriously light sleeper. There was no way they’d manage it.
‘Maybe the stockings could be hung on the door handle? Outside the room?’ Oliver suggested.
‘That could work. I’d just put them in our room, but you remember what happened last year.’
‘All too well.’ Oliver shuddered. Apparently Jay bursting into their room at four-thirty in the morning, bouncing onto the bed and landing on a very sensitive part of Oliver’s anatomy had permanently traumatised her husband.
‘I mean, he’s unlikely to have an aim that perfect two years running,’ Daisy said. ‘But if he comes present hunting in our room and wakes the twins before they’re ready, nobody is going to be having a perfect Christmas.’ Not to mention the fact that it was probably bad form to start drinking before sunrise on Christmas Day. And if things went at all like last year, it was a very real possibility for both of them. And one of them had to drive them all home.
‘So, presents in the kids’ room,’ Oliver agreed, hurriedly.
Daisy nodded. ‘At least that way there’s a stack of interesting stocking fillers that might keep Jay going until sunrise. We just need to haul them all in to the hotel.’
‘Better make a start, then,’ Oliver said, reaching into his pocket for his car keys as they reached the hotel car park.
As she and Oliver struggled to carry the twins’ ridiculously large present between them, up the three flights of stairs to their hotel rooms, Daisy reflected that maybe Santa could have just delivered to the car. That would have been a hell of a lot easier, even if it had resulted in Oliver getting bashed in the boy parts again.
‘How were they?’ Daisy asked her mother, in hushed tones, as they stepped out into the hallway to discuss, hoping the extra door between them would stop the twins waking up. Oliver pointed towards the stairs and headed back for another load of presents.
‘Little angels,’ Mum said, which sounded utterly unlike her children to Daisy, but she decided to go with it.
‘Are Jay and Bella asleep?’ God, she hoped so. If she had to sit up and wait for Jay’s excitement levels to finally subside far enough for him to pass out, she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t be snoring long before Santa had been.
‘I think so. I stuck my head in an hour or so ago, and Jay was flat out. Bella still had her headphones on, but I took them off. They’re both fine,’ Mum reassured her.
‘Brilliant,’ Daisy said, with a sigh of relief. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
Mum smiled. ‘Did you have a lovely time?’
‘We did, thanks. It was nice to, well, just be us for a change.’
Mum’s smile turned a little sad. ‘And to think, that’s just what your father and I were trying to avoid.’
‘Do you think you’re going to keep the chateau?’ Daisy asked, wine making her blunt.
‘Maybe. It would make a very nice holiday rental, after all …’
‘For birdwatchers, maybe,’ Daisy said.
Mum snorted a laugh, covering her mouth with a hand to try and keep the noise in, so as not to disturb the twins. Her eyes grew too wide, like keeping the laughter inside was straining her body. Daisy couldn’t help it. She collapsed into giggles, putting one hand out against the hideous rose covered wallpaper to keep herself upright as the laughter overtook her, heaving in huge breaths in between.
‘When … when your dad …’ Mum said, unable to get the words out between silent laughs. ‘When the bird pooed on his head!’
‘I know!’ Daisy fell apart all over again. ‘And when … when he tried to catch it in the saucepan!’
Mum bent over in the middle, one arm wrapped around her stomach as if her laughter had grown physically painful. ‘I’d never heard him use some of those words before!’
‘His French swearing is actually pretty impressive,’ Daisy said, in between bursts of laughter.
Oliver appeared at the top of the stairs behind them, another bag of presents in his hands, and surveyed the scene. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Dad,’ Daisy managed. ‘And the bird. We should … Oh God, we should buy him birdwatching binoculars for his birthday!’
Mum howled wi
th laughter at that, but Oliver just rolled his eyes.
‘Let’s get through Christmas first, shall we?’ he suggested, good humouredly. ‘Come on, elves. Santa needs a little help.’