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Chapter One
Six weeks until Christmas
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!’ Sophie raced across the green to where her friend Kate leant against one of the Christmas market huts that had popped up last week.
‘Sophie, where have you been?’ Kate sounded annoyed, and Sophie didn’t blame her. She was very pregnant and standing around in the November cold probably wasn’t ideal.
‘It wasn’t my fault. I promise!’ Sophie skidded to a halt and dropped her bags. ‘I was picking up the flyers but the guy was locking up when I got there and he had to go and find them out the back and anyway,’ – she sucked in a breath – ‘here they are!’
Sophie pulled a wodge of flyers out of the carrier bag on the floor and showed them to Kate. ‘What do you think?’
Kate examined them for a second and frowned. ‘I don’t know how to tell you this, Sophie. But the date’s wrong.’
‘What?’ Sophie snatched back the flyers and turned them over. Sure enough, printed in large white letters across the bottom of the bright red page was 24th November. ‘Oh God.’ She slumped against the hut.
‘I got you a gingerbread hot chocolate, though.’ Kate passed her a takeaway coffee cup. ‘You get a bonus gingerbread man clinging on for dear life.’ She picked hers off the side of the cup and made him dance into her mouth.
‘I can’t believe Albert messed it up.’ Sophie put the flyers back away and pulled out another bundle to check if they were the same. They were, of course.
‘This is tasty, at least.’ Kate raised her takeaway cup in a ‘cheers’.
Sophie sipped the warm drink. She had to agree. It was rather delicious; the taste of Christmas was yummy.
‘Come on,’ Kate said. ‘We’ll be late for rehearsal.’
Sophie linked arms with her friend as they walked across the green to the town hall in the glow of a hundred Christmas lights. The plastic pig that lived in the butcher’s window wore a Christmas hat trimmed with white fur and laced with tiny lights, dwarfed only by the bright lanterns that framed the window itself. Further along, the baker had transformed his window into a Christmas village scene, complete with gingerbread men, women and children dressed in all their Christmas finery. The bakery’s window was a particular favourite of Sophie’s: each week the scene would change in the run-up to Christmas, until on Christmas Eve, gingerbread Father Christmas would arrive with presents for all the gingerbread children.
‘This is just what I need after a Tuesday afternoon of geography followed by R.E.,’ Kate said, sipping more of her hot chocolate as they walked. ‘Golden time was chaos today. Goodness knows what the dinner ladies put in the pudding!’
‘It’s probably the wind,’ Sophie said, watching the trees sway across the green. Shoppers, making the most of the longer shopping hours, scurried about, clutching their hats and scarves so that they wouldn’t get blown away. ‘The children are always crazy when the wind’s up. I really needed this.’ She snapped an arm off her gingerbread man. ‘Who knew organising a simple Christmas concert could be so stressful?’
‘It’s going to be stressful when you’re in the concert, organising the concert and trying to get thirty-one ten-year-olds to the end of Christmas term.’
Sophie groaned. ‘I don’t know how I get myself into these things.’
She pulled a key out of her pocket, complete with enormous homemade wooden keyring, and opened the door to the town hall, balancing everything else in her spare hand.
The hall was cold and musty, with a tall ceiling and wooden floor. She dropped her stuff at the door and started to put out the old plastic chairs in rows, ready for the choir’s arrival.
‘Not you,’ she said, as Kate began to help. She waggled her finger. ‘You sit there.’
Kate frowned but followed her friend’s orders, plonking herself down on a seat in the middle of the room. She shuffled from side to side, crossing and uncrossing her legs.
‘Comfy?’
‘Never, these days,’ Kate joked, removing her coat and rubbing her enormous belly. ‘So, tell me what happened. You know that’s what I really want to talk about.’
Sophie continued to set up the room and avoided Kate’s questioning stare.
‘I don’t even know where to begin,’ Sophie said, tucking some hair behind her ear before picking up the next chair and adding it to the end of a row.
‘Well, why don’t you start at the beginning?’ Kate asked.
‘That’s a very good place to start,’ they both chorused and laughed.
‘I don’t know if I really want to talk about it,’ Sophie said finally, resting for a moment. It was the same old story, and she was tired of telling it.
‘Yes, you do!’ Kate said, popping the final bit of her gingerbread man into her mouth. ‘What was he like? How did it go?’ Crumbs flew everywhere as she spoke.
