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Both Ranjeeta’s brows shot up at that statement.

“Needless to say, I did not run her over. And she was okay, by the way. A bad leg but she survived. Anyway. I decided to enter the new lights competition because Aileen never wanted to decorate and . . . and I like Christmas lights,” I added gruffly, stopping short of telling her about my mother’s love of Christmas decorations. “Then on the night I got home with the stuff to decorate, I noticed that Nisa had already done hers. Unusual, what with her having a rod up her arse, but I was pleased that more houses on the street were getting involved, you know? Then, later on that night after I’d finished putting up my decorations, she comes storming over all flashing eyes and tossing her hair.” At this point I found myself imitating Nisa’s hair toss—​flicking imaginary locks of long hair over my shoulder. I realized that the expression on Ranjeeta’s face was becoming more amused by the second, but I was too into my story to curb it. “And she accuses me of only entering the competition to spite her, and of only going out to buy decorations after I’d seen hers, plus deliberately buying some of the same lights. Needless to say, that wasn’t true. I already had the lights in my car when I got home, it was all just coincidence. But she was having none of it and demanded that I withdraw my entry. I refused. She was not happy about it. Then this morning I spotted that she’d gotten the same reindeer as me, which is clearly a deliberate act of sabotage.”

I finished my story, almost breathless after speaking so quickly but feeling as if a weight had been lifted. Then I sank back into my chair and folded my arms, waiting for Ranjeeta’s verdict.

She was smiling.

I frowned. “What?”

She crossed her legs, leaning her forearms on her topmost thigh and clasping her hands. She looked like a bloody therapist. “I have not seen you this animated about something in . . . I don’t even know when.” She paused. “Actually, I retract that. I’ve never seen you this animated about something.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. It was not the response I had been expecting. “I mean, can you blame me? The woman is a nightmare. And the first prize is a spa weekend and I could really use some time away. Plus a massage,” I said, rubbing my aching temples.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Ranjeeta’s mouth. “Mm. So what are you going to do about this sabotage?”

I scraped a palm over my stubbled face. I hadn’t had a chance to shave that morning, given the rush I’d been in. “Good question.”

Ranjeeta’s smile broadened. “I reckon that you should give as good as you get.”

I blinked in surprise. “Really?”

She leaned back, folding her arms, legs still crossed. “Two can play at that game. And you’re clearly invested in the game. So, you indulge in a little tit for tat. What else has she got in her display?”

I pictured the scene on Nisa’s lawn. “She’s got an inflatable Santa.”

Ranjeeta pointed at me. “There you go. You get yourself one of those and put it right at the front of the lawn so she gets the message.”

This sort of thing would have normally felt like a waste of my time. But this feud with Nisa had woken something inside me. What that was exactly, I couldn’t quite explain. But the more I thought about Ranjeeta’s idea the more I liked it. Why not give as good as I got?

I pursed my lips as I brought my gaze back onto Ranjeeta. “I think you might be onto something there.”

She nodded. “Go get her.”

That was a slightly puzzling way to put it, but okay.

I stood, ready to go back and tend to the next patient. “Thanks for the advice. And if you can do anything about Stacey’s weird crush on me, that would also be much appreciated.”

She waved her hand. “Not to worry. Auntie Ranjeeta will sort it.”

I gave her arm a grateful squeeze on the way past. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She lifted her hand higher, over her shoulder, having already turned away, back to her files. “You’d be lost, that’s what.”

*

For the first time that I could remember, I found myself in a hurry to get home. A quick stop off at the store to grab the inflatable Santa and I was on my way, rushing through the traffic to get the decoration up in time for Nisa getting home from her shift at the community hospital.

By the time I’d hauled the box out of the car and was setting up the Santa, my blood was practically humming with anticipation. I quickly finished the job and then went inside to surreptitiously keep watch for Nisa, desperate to witness the moment she spotted my new Santa.

She must have been working overtime again because I was still there crouching at the window, calves cramping, half an hour later. Torn between not wanting to miss her arrival and the protestations from my full bladder, I swore as I got to my feet and practically ran to the downstairs toilet, relieved myself and washed up, and then sprinted back into the living room just as Nisa’s car pulled into her driveway. Concerned about being seen, even though it was dark and I’d kept the lights off, I ducked, practically threw myself down, and then skidded on my front the last few feet along the polished wooden floor, arriving at a stop under the window and coming to a crouching position to peek through.

I was acting like a commando on a secret mission, for Christ’s sake. And I think I liked it.

My heart beat hard behind my ribs. Partly from the exertion of my sprint back to my post but mostly from the anticipation of clapping eyes on Nisa.

A few moments later the driver’s-side door opened, and she climbed out, looking tired and carrying a work bag that appeared rather heavy.

Something twisted in my chest.