Page 54 of Not Just for Christmas

‘He was a musician?’

Pete nodded and explained that years ago, farms often had a piano. There was always someone who could play, and the family would gather round and sing.

‘You had to make your own entertainment in those days,’ said Pete. ‘This used to be in the front room, the one they kept for best. When Heather and Jim moved in, they stuck it out here to make room for Jack’s toy racetrack.’

‘Considering the conditions this old lady has been subjected to, she doesn’t look in too bad of a state.’ Dylan picked out the chorus of ‘Jingle Bells’. It was almost unrecognisable. ‘I wonder if Lucy would mind if I brought it inside, put it back in the front room.’

‘Is it salvageable, do you reckon?’ Pete asked.

‘No idea.’ Dylan stood and wiped the cobwebs off the lid before gently lowering it. ‘But I probably know a man who does.’

He couldn’t wait to get it in good enough shape to play. There was the beginning of a new song swirling around in his head. It was out of reach just now, but for the first time in months, he felt the spark of something. Something special.

Chapter 25

‘I can’t see properly,’ Sam complained, tugging on my hand.

‘We could try to get a space closer to the edge?’ Dylan suggested.

‘This is close enough.’ I shivered, and not just from the cold.

We were at the jetty, waiting for Santa to arrive alongside what felt like half of the population of Devon. It was already crowded and ever more people were joining the crush. All it would take was one over-enthusiastic nudge from behind and one of us could easily find ourselves in the freezing cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

The temperature had dropped dramatically through the day, and pavements glittered with frost. The jetty was strung with lights, Christmas music from the Craggy Bay brass band blasted from speakers and the air was filled with the festive aromas of cinnamon, gingerbread and toffee from the Christmas market stalls which stretched from the high street all the way to the harbour.

‘I can see a boat!’ someone cried.

Instantly the excitement seemed to lift an extra notch. People clapped and cheered as a brightly lit boat came into view on the sea.

‘Wanna go on my shoulders?’ Dylan asked Sam.

Sam didn’t need asking twice. Dylan bent down for him to climb up, and Sam linked his hands loosely around Dylan’s neck.

‘I can see Santa,’ he yelled, bouncing up and down on Dylan’s shoulders. ‘And sacks of presents. And some helpers.’

‘I think he’s excited,’ I said to Dylan with a wink.

The boat moored up in front of us and Sam gasped with joy.

‘Me too,’ said Dylan. ‘I mean Santa arriving by boat, how many kids get to see that? Is that a lifeboat under all that tinsel?’

I nodded. ‘This whole event is partly to raise funds for the RNLI.’

‘The superheroes of the sea,’ Sam piped up. ‘That’s what Daddy called them.’

‘That’s a cool name,’ Dylan murmured. ‘They should put that on the side of their boats.’

‘Well remembered, darling,’ I said with a tremor in my voice.

Sometimes I worried that Sam had been so young when Jack died that he wouldn’t have strong memories of his father and then every so often he’d floor me with something like this, and it felt like a tiny precious gift.

‘The world needs more superheroes, I reckon.’ Dylan reached for my hand, squeezing it gently, and when I looked up at him, his eyes appeared shiny with tears.

‘It does.’ I swallowed the lump in my throat.

If only there’d been a lifeguard on duty that day, a lifeboat patrolling the coast, someone to notice …

I blew out a calming breath, determined not to let dark thoughts intrude tonight.