We had nearly reached the village, and Seraphina came running back towards us, her mittened hands full of stones.
‘Look at these, Pixie, we can make somesuperpresents. But first…I know you’ll say no, butpleasesay yes…’
I grinned.
‘Try me.’
‘Can we go to the pub for a hot chocolate? Pleeeeeease?’
‘Ooh, what do you think, Daphne? Do we all need a hot chocolate?’
Daphne adopted a grave expression.
‘I think that is an eminently sensible suggestion, young Phina, we’ve all had a shock and a chilly walk. In fact, maybe Penny and I should have an Uncle Xander special? Goodness knows I’ve heard enough about them from him. Positively medicinal, he says.’
I nodded.
‘Any doctor would agree with you. We should definitely do this.’
Phina whooped with joy, and we picked up our pace as we headed towards The Curious Badger.
Ten minutes after we got back to the house, Bunny and Caspian returned, having been picked up from the hospital by Lando. Caspy had been given a thorough check-up and was declared fit and well, other than a slightly hoarse voice and some minor bruising where I had hit him.
‘Gosh, Bunny, I’m so sorry, I feel terrible about leaving marks.’
‘Pixie, my darling, please don’t apologise for one second. If it hadn’t been for you, for your quick thinking…’ Her eyes filled with tears and mine rushed to match them. ‘Well, Caspy could have died. I am forever in your debt.’
I hugged her tightly.
‘You’re not in my debt. I’m so relieved I could help. Come on, let’s hear no more about it. Caspian, what would you like to do now?’
‘Well, do you remember that gingerbread house kit? I’d like to do that please. All of us.’
‘Of course, the one you won at the party. Great idea. Come on then, everyone to the kitchen!’
And everyone came. For a festive scene you couldn’t beat it. All of us squashed around the table, decorating and constructing a fiendishly difficult gingerbread cottage. There was William, laughing with Daphne as she added an icing boa to her figure. There was Xander, swearing under his breath as the walls refused to stay stuck together for the fourth time. The twins and Bunny, snuggled close against each other, gluing on jelly sweets in abundance. Pilar, slipping a skilled hand in every so often to correct our clumsy mistakes. And Lando, piping meticulous and beautiful designs on the roof in white icing. I smiled as I mixed up some green buttercream for the grass. Thanks to the talk with Daphne, for the first time in weeks I felt a proper sense of peace as I relaxed into Christmas with this wonderful family.
SIXTEEN
When the house was finished, I gave the children their tea, then handed them over to Bunny, who wanted to put them to bed.
‘I so nearly lost him, Pixie darling, it’s making me think about all sorts of things.’ She put her hand on her tummy thoughtfully, but I couldn’t ask her right then what was going through her head; I hoped she was finding peace with the pregnancy.
Pilar and I cleaned up the kitchen, and I had decided to go and once more look through those links that my mother had sent when Lando came in.
‘Uh, Penny, hi.’
‘Hello. The gingerbread house looks good, doesn’t it? I’m not sure how we’re going to eat it, though.’
‘I’m sure those twins will find a way. Er, look, I was wondering if you’d like to pop over to the studio later for a spot of supper – to say thank you for posing as Mary?’
It felt like something of a ‘now or never’ moment, and Daphne’s beautiful, encouraging face floated through my mind. I pushed down the Greek chorus of worries that piped up and took a breath.
‘Thank you, that sounds lovely.’
Despite my attempt at a serene demeanour, my body and mind put on a fireworks show as I went upstairs to get ready. He was expecting me in an hour, which, on the one hand, was not long enough to get my thoughts and feelings under control, but, on the other hand, was far too long to be fretting.
‘I’d rather get it over with as quickly as possible,’ I muttered, as I flicked through my scant wardrobe. Then I laughed as I realised that ‘getting it over with’ wasnotthe right approach to a potential romantic encounter. It was more what I had used to feel when Timothy started to get amorous and I would rather read another chapter of my book. No, tonight my impatience was more linked to the desire to quell my racing heartbeat and churning stomach, to flip to the end of the story because the anticipation of calamity was too unpleasant. ‘Come on,’ I said, ‘try to enjoy it. What’s the worst that could happen?’ Rallying, I picked out a pretty chiffon top and paired it with my smartest jeans, jumped in a quick shower, topped up my makeup and spritzed on some perfume I thought was sexy, but Timothy claimed made him sneeze. He preferred me wafting Devon Violets, like his grandmother.
