Page 43 of The Christmas Star

Theo climbed in beside me. ‘Nothing.’

‘At least let me put some petrol in the car,’ I said.

‘Already done.’ Theo put his key in the ignition. ‘Any update from Maeve yet?’

Irritated at being dismissed, I pulled my phone from my handbag and steeling myself, signed into Mum’s TikTok. My heart felt like it stopped for a second. ‘There is.’ I looked to Theo who, after Mum’s previous offering, appeared equally nervous.

CHAPTER 29

‘Ready?’ I asked, pressing play on Mum’s latest TikTok.

Theo nodded and leaned in to watch.

Posted on December 23rd, Mum had mixed things up a little and instead of her talking to camera, we were treated to a montage of spliced clips and photos. Accordion music reminiscent of a French café played alongside the images, which began with Mum and Jackson outside a stone townhouse signed Hôtel de Rêve. I admired its tall white windows and ornate Juliet balconies. ‘That must be the accommodation Mum mentioned in her previous video,’ I said.

Being so much taller, Jackson easily rested his arm around the back of Mum’s shoulders as they got into position and stuck up their thumbs for the camera. I took in their rosy cheeks and huge smiles. ‘It looks like Jackson’s over his sea sickness.’

‘Doesn’t it?’ Theo replied.

‘Who do you think’s filming them?’

Theo shrugged. ‘A passerby maybe.’

I cringed on Mum’s behalf, knowing it would be just like her to stop a stranger and ask for help. Speaking in pidgin French and wearing a black beret, she was every inch the tourist, making her easy pickings for the less than honest. I sighed at her naivety. She was lucky they hadn’t run off with her phone.

Next, the camera panned across a stunning rooftop view from what I guessed was one of the hotel bedrooms. Greys, blues and zincs filled the skyline as far as the eye could see and chimneys stood proud amongst round elegant œil-de-bœuf windows.

‘That’s gorgeous,’ I said. Wishing I, too, had seen it first hand, I couldn’t deny I felt a tad jealous.

In the next clip a Christmas tree lit up the corner of the hotel’s chic dining room, while Mum and Jackson sat at a small table with crisp white linen and shiny silverware. Watching them pour water from a jug and clink glasses as if it was champagne, it was clear Mum and Jackson were celebrating their first night in France. A waitress brought them their meals and as they tucked in, my mouth watered at their plates of beef bourguignon, a slow-cooked stew made with tender meat and a rich red wine sauce. I chuckled at the next image, a simple photo of two empty plates.

Next up was a sweep of the hotel’s breakfast table, where buttery croissants sat with fresh baguettes, brioches, pains au chocolat and Viennese pastries. We cut to Mum and Jackson enjoying sourdough tartines with jam and honey. All smiles, they weren’t just naturals in front of the camera, they appeared to be having the time of their lives.

‘It’s like they don’t have a care in the world,’ I said. As the video automatically replayed, I’d seen enough and I handed my phone to Theo.

As if mesmerised, he stared at the screen. ‘This is brilliant,’ he said, his voice almost a whisper.

I gave him a sideways nod. ‘What are you talking about? The more fun they have, the less chance there is of them wanting to turn around and head home.’ Twisting in my seat, I looked at Theo direct and, to my surprise, saw his eyes had welled up. ‘Are you crying?’

‘No.’ He wiped his tears clear. ‘It’s just nice to see them having fun.’

I huffed. ‘That’s not what you said last night.’

Theo let out a small laugh. ‘I’ve already admitted I was wrong for that.’

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as Theo watched the video for a third time. ‘What is it you’re not telling me?’ I asked.

He stopped the video and without as much as looking at me handed back my phone. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ He started up the car and glancing over his shoulder, manoeuvred out of the space.

There was no fooling me. Having learned from the best, I knew when someone was lying. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Have it your way.’ Leaving Theo to his thoughts, I returned my attention to Mum’s TikTok.

It seemed yet more people were hoping for a head-on collision as her number of followers had yet again increased and her most recent video, just like the others, had garnered hundreds of comments. Clicking to read some of them, I decided to ignore the trolls and concentrate on the positive responses to Mum and Jackson.

‘Me and my friends have talked about La Tomatina in Buñol for the last twenty years,’ JaniceT said.

I rolled my eyes. Don’t tell me…

‘And because of you we’re finally going. This summer.’