Page 61 of Christmas All the Way

‘Then you learn,’ Orla said. ‘Take a course. Negotiate a phased handover with Ivy, so that she teaches you how it all works. From what you’ve said, it sounds as though it’s her baby. She’d probably jump at the chance to pass it on to someone she can trust not to run it into the ground.’

Grace opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again as her brain began turning over the possibilities. Could she raise enough to buy Ivy out, or even to just purchase a stake in Santa’s Secret? More importantly, did she want to? She scratched off the final question immediately – of course she wanted to. She just wasn’t sure she could, or how Ivy and Raff would feel about the idea.

‘I’ll think it over,’ she said. ‘Thanks, Mum.’

Orla smiled. ‘That’s what I’m here for. Now, what are we going to have for dessert? I think the plum pudding sounds deliciously Christmassy, don’t you?’

The message from Gavin came through on Tuesday morning, as Grace was arriving at Santa’s Secret. She parked her car, then pulled her phone out of her handbag to read it.

Big news! Britain’s Most Christmassy Village is going mainstream. The winner of this year’s competition is going to be announced on The One Show tonight, at 7pm!

As she stared down at the screen, another message popped up in the committee group chat, also from Gavin.

I’m being serious. This is not a joke.

The words ‘Paul is typing’ appeared, quickly followed by a message. WOAH. This is huge. Are you sure?

Grace waited with bated breath as Gavin responded. Yep. Got an email from the judges this morning. They want a film crew to visit the winning village later this week.

Messages began to arrive thick and fast from the other members of the group, wondering if every village had received the same message and whether anyone had any idea when the judges had visited Freezy Tye. Grace worked her way through, barely finishing one message before another appeared. And then her phone began to ring and Raff’s name appeared on the screen.

‘Have you seen the news?’ he asked, without waiting for her to say hello.

‘I have,’ she said, smiling. ‘I gather it’s never made the television before?’

‘Never,’ he said. ‘The best we’ve managed so far is page four of the national papers and a Have Your Say article on the regional BBC webpages. It’s a big step up.’

Another message from Gavin materialised. Watch party at the pub tonight – everyone invited. Drinks are on me if we win.

Butterflies began to swirl in Grace’s stomach. The thought of the competition winner featuring on The One Show made her feel slightly queasy. ‘Are you coming to Gavin’s watch party?’

There was a pause, during which she assumed Raff was scrolling through the messages on his own phone. ‘Wouldn’t miss it for anything. You?’

‘Oh, the same,’ she said fervently. ‘Although I might need a stiff drink or two to settle my nerves.’

He laughed. ‘I don’t think you’ll be alone there. But it’ll be good to have everyone together. I’m not sure I could bear to watch on my own.’

‘No,’ Grace agreed. ‘Thank goodness it’s not a night when Keeley’s tours are happening. I’d hate to miss the announcement.’

‘I’d hate it too,’ Raff said. ‘It wouldn’t be the same without you, especially after all your hard work.’

Grace felt her cheeks flood with warmth. ‘I’ll see you later then,’ she said, suddenly breathless with anticipation.

‘Definitely,’ he said. ‘See you there.’

She sat still for several seconds after he’d rung off, wondering whether he’d meant it when he said he would hate it if she missed the party. Then she decided he’d simply been caught up in the moment, and had probably meant to include Keeley too. She read the rest of the messages in the chat, which seemed to veer between wild optimism about their chances of winning and a determination not to set themselves up for disappointment. Grace found herself distinctly in the latter camp. The real achievement was all the Christmas joy they’d already spread, she told herself as she prepared to get out of the car. And then a message from Keeley arrived which gave her something else to worry about.

What are you wearing later?

Grace let out a groan as she replied. I’m not sure I have anything. My party clothes are all back at my house.

Wear your onesie. Raff won’t care.

After several attempts at a dignified response, Grace gave up and went to work. Hopefully, the problem of what to wear would resolve itself once she stopped fretting about it.

The day passed in a blur, as she’d known it would because the shop was so busy; she barely had time to breathe. It was just over a week until Christmas Eve and the demand for decorations was showing no sign of dying down. Grace had hoped for a quiet moment to catch up with Ivy, mostly to see how she was but also to test the waters about the business proposal her mother had suggested the day before. Grace had spent most of the night turning the idea over in her mind, and the longer she thought about it, the more it felt like the perfect solution. But would Ivy see it that way?

It seemed the answer would have to wait. Frustratingly, Ivy was engrossed in a telephone call with a supplier when Grace knocked on the door of her office once the shop had closed for the day. She covered the receiver and threw Grace an apologetic look. ‘Sorry, can you pop back later? I really need to sort this out.’