‘Okay, okay.’ Daisy straightened up, wiping her eyes to clear them of tears of laughter.
‘But your dad definitely needs a new saucepan,’ Mum said, and Daisy gave up the struggle and leant against the wall and laughed and laughed.
Oliver sighed. ‘Father Christmas never had this sort of trouble,’ he said. But he didn’t look cross. In fact, Daisy thought, as she watched him through her giggles, he looked more like the man she’d married than ever.
And for the first time since the twins were born, she was starting to feel like the woman he’d married, too.
Somehow, despite all the torches shining on her, the night seemed dark again. Holly felt Jack’s hand in hers and hoped that it would give her the strength to stand up for what she wanted, and say what needed to be said to Mrs Templeton.
She’d been so sure they’d had a breakthrough with the woman that afternoon. After all their talk about community, after asking her to be involved in the Christmas surprise, she’d really hoped that Mrs Templeton would be on their side now. That they were bringing Maple Drive together, not causing more division in place of the indifference that had been fostered there before.
But from the look on Mrs Templeton’s face, she was wrong.
Arms folded across her chest, holding her red brocade dressing gown closed over her nightdress, Mrs Templeton tapped her slipper on the grass and scowled under her iron grey hair.
‘I’ll ask again,’ she said, when no one answered. ‘What, exactly, is going on here? And why, as Neighbourhood Watch Warden, did nobody wake me when the lights went out? I’d never have known at all if it wasn’t for all the noise out here.’
‘We’re sorry, Mrs Templeton,’ Jack said, rubbing the back of his head as he spoke. It had to hurt, Holly was sure. She shivered a little at the thought of how close he’d come to being seriously injured. ‘We were hoping to make this a surprise.’
Mrs Templeton took a moment to look around, surveying the lights failing to illuminate the street. In the torchlight, the dark outlines of the shapes looked sad and lonely. Holly looked with her, wincing a little as she wondered how the woman who’d hated her elegant icicle lights was going to feel about the Rudolph on the roof of number 3, once they got it lit again.
‘It most certainly is that,’ Mrs Templeton said, faintly. ‘I notice you haven’t thought to affix any lights to my house.’
Holly and Jack exchanged a look. Was she hoping they would? Or was she warning them off? It was kind of hard to tell.
‘Your house was next on our list,’ Holly said, taking a chance. ‘Although, obviously we’d have asked your permission first.’
‘Of course.’ Mrs Templeton gave a regal nod. ‘I suppose I could bear to live with some of those snowflake lights. Just to make sure the whole street is in harmony.’
‘I’ll get them up for you now,’ Jack said, beaming.
‘Oh no you won’t.’ Dr Roberts bustled through the crowd to object. ‘You’re not going anywhere near a ladder, remember? You’re sitting down and recovering. I’m sure there are plenty of people here willing to help out.’
A murmur went through the neighbours, and Jessica from number 3 put herself forward for the job.
‘Right then,’ said Mrs Templeton, rubbing her hands together. ‘Now that’s sorted – or will be once the power’s back on – what’s next? I can’t believe that the lights were your only plan for a surprise Christmas for the street?’
For the street? When this had started, it had just been for Kathleen, and maybe for themselves. Then that had grown to include Mrs Templeton, and now … everyone on Maple Drive. How had this happened?
And why couldn’t she stop smiling at the idea?
The crowd was silent, waiting to hear her reply. ‘Um, well, the plan was really still a work in progress,’ Holly admitted, still grinning.
Mrs Templeton rolled her eyes. ‘Honestly. Amateurs. Lucky for you I’ve organised a fête or two in my time. I know just what we need to do. Starting by getting inside where we can discuss the plan and allocate jobs.’
Never mind that it was nearly midnight. Never mind that her house wasn’t big enough to fit everyone in, and she’d have to light candles everywhere just to be able to see anyone. Never mind that Claude was still curled up by her feet and would clearly need a place to stay for the night. And never mind that she’d never even spoken to half the people currently congregating on the street outside her house.
‘Come on in, everyone,’ Holly said, happily. ‘I hope you all like mince pies!’
Jack, his head still banging, trailed into Holly’s house behind the crowd, Claude at his feet. Perhaps this was all some sort of concussion-induced dream. It made a hell of a lot more sense than Holly suddenly accommodating the entire neighbourhood, for mulled wine and mince pies by candlelight at midnight on Christmas Eve.
‘I’ve updated the Find Claude page,’ Jessica, from number 3, told Jack as they squeezed through the front door. ‘The McCawleys probably won’t see it until morning, but I’ve told them that Claude is safe with you again now. I’ll try and send a photo too, so they can see that he’s okay.’
‘Thanks,’ Jack said. Just remembering that Claude was home made his head hurt less – even if the little dog was at least partially responsible for his accident. Jack didn’t care.
Mrs Templeton quickly took charge of the gathering, while Holly hunted out glasses and mugs for the mulled wine.
‘There’ll be jobs for everyone in the morning,’ Mrs Templeton said, her voice crisp as she surveyed the mass of people crammed into the house. She shook her head. ‘But for now, we just need to plan, so most of you might as well go home and get some sleep.’ There were a few objections to that, so Holly added, ‘After you’ve had some mulled wine, and maybe some of my mince pies, of course.’
‘But it’s Christmas Day tomorrow,’ Mrs Hodgkins from number 1 said, frowning. ‘We can’t just give up all our own plans and traditions for yours.’
‘Of course not,’ Holly said, soothingly. ‘And we’d never ask anybody to. But if anyone is alone this Christmas, or looking for a little more company, we’d love to have you as part of our community Christmas, that’s all. I mean, we’ll just be right here in Maple Drive, so you can just pop out for half an hour, if you like. And nobody has to do anything. Right, Mrs Templeton?’
Mrs Templeton looked considerably less certain of that fact, but Jack suspected that came from decades of ordering people around as a headmistress.
‘Holly’s right,’ he said, sensing she might need a little back-up. ‘A community is only a community if everyone wants to be there, and wants to take part. We’d love to see all of you tomorrow, and celebrate Christmas with you. But we understand completely if you have other commitments, or choose not to join in.’
That calmed the crowd a little – or possibly that was just the effect of Holly’s mulled wine.
Jack glanced around the kitchen, taking in the scene. People were spilling out through the back door, and into the hallway, and there were a few sitting down in the lounge, having the conversation relayed to them in a weirdly festive version of Chinese whispers. Claude, he noticed, was making the rounds of the kitchen, gobbling down all the scraps of gingerbread and pastry that people could feed him. Someone had put a pair of reindeer antlers on his head, but Claude didn’t seem to mind. He’d probably never had his ears scratched by so many people before, Jack thought. And every one of them seemed honestly pleased to see him back where he belonged and safe. The antlers were probably a small price to pay.
Imagine, just a day ago, he’d believed that there was no community in Maple Drive, no Christmas spirit. And now the entire street was planning a Christmas … not a surprise for Kathleen. How could it be, when they were all in on it? A celebration of Christmas, and their commun
ity, perhaps.
Or maybe it didn’t matter what it was called. Just that, against all the odds, it was happening.
Eventually, Mr Yates’ brother showed up from the electric company, made some calls that Jack suspected wouldn’t have been made for anyone else, and informed them all that the power would be back within an hour or two.
Once the mulled wine ran out, most people left, but by that time Mrs Templeton had a pretty good list going on the notepad she’d pulled from her dressing gown pocket when she sat down. People had volunteered food and services and help, and Mrs Templeton seemed to know what they’d all lead to, even if Jack wasn’t sure at all.
Eventually, there was just Jack, Holly, Kathleen, Mrs Templeton and Claude left.
Jack took a seat at the table with the women, and didn’t object when Claude climbed into his lap, his muzzle covered in crumbs. He felt warm and content and sleepy under Jack’s hands as he removed the antlers he was wearing. He wondered if they’d ever know exactly what sort of adventures Claude had been having while he’d been away.
Whatever they were, he seemed grateful to be back amongst friends and gingerbread again. And Jack was very grateful to have him there.
‘So, I think that’s everything sorted.’ Mrs Templeton underlined something on her list, then showed it to Kathleen and Holly, who both nodded.
‘We’d better get some sleep,’ Kathleen said, pushing her hands against the table to help her to her feet. ‘Lots to do tomorrow.’
‘Agreed.’ Holly looked tired, Jack realised, but her eyes were still feverishly bright in the candlelight, from the excitement of the evening. He wondered if she’d sleep at all tonight.
‘You look like I remember feeling as a child on Christmas Eve, waiting for the magic to happen,’ he told her, as he pulled on his coat.
‘Except we’re not waiting for the magic,’ Holly replied. ‘We’re making it.’
Jack grinned. He supposed she was right.
Leaving Claude snoozing in Perdita’s cat basket, Jack walked the two older women back to their own homes. It was cold and dark and slippery out, and with them both in slippers and dressing gowns, he wasn’t taking any chances of them falling and hurting themselves. There’d been enough of that for one night already.