Page 15 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

‘Exactly,’ Ermin said, shooting the man a startled look. ‘We must not spend our time ruing the sins of the past. We must focus on the promise of the future.’

Daisy was so glad she’d come. She leaned sideways, whispering to Harry, ‘Is your ice rink a sin of the past?’

‘Two years ago people were pissed off I was staying out of it,’ he murmured. ‘I do one nice thing for the village, and they’re all pissed off with me again.’

‘Maybe Harry would let us hold the Oak Fest in the manor grounds?’ piped up a lady with a head of steely curls. ‘Seeing as he’s the reason we’ve been left in this dire position.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ Harry murmured, and Daisy tucked her chin into her chest, stifling a laugh.

Sophie stood up. ‘You all loved the ice rink, the tree environmentalist whatsit—’

‘Arborist,’ Harry said quietly.

‘… The arborist said the ice rink had nothing to do with the oak needing props. It was just its time. And as Ermin says, we need to think about what we’re going to do instead. I’m not sure the Oak Fest can happen in the parkland, because some areas are a bit … boggy.’

‘And because Felix will take charge,’ Harry added.

‘The bloody goat,’ ‘That absolute twat of a goat,’ ‘It’ll be goatmageddon,’ were the mutterings that followed, and Daisy had to suppress another giggle.

‘We don’t want to do Christmas plays in the manor like last year,’ Fiona said, ‘because we have a full schedule of performances now, thanks to Jazz and Imogen extending their reading group into the Am Dram society. I think we can all agree that the production of Les Mis was a huge success.’

‘The village did Les Mis?’ Daisy whispered to Sophie, who had sat down again. ‘Basically recreated the entire French Revolution, all the battles and heartache, in this hall?’

‘It was excellent,’ Sophie said, though Daisy thought she was tensing her jaw.

‘Is there a video?’

‘Unfortunately not.’ Sophie held Daisy’s eye, her lips twitching. Daisy decided she would have to track down a video. Some parent or friend would have wanted to keep a record of their loved one’s performance for posterity.

‘So, no Oak Fest, no ice rink, no Christmas plays. What on earth will we do?’ This was the lady with the grey curls. She sounded disproportionately distressed about the lack of festive entertainment.

‘That’s why we’ve called this meeting, Valerie,’ Ermin said kindly. ‘To get the hive mind to come up with a new plan.’

‘Dexter can make mince pies,’ someone shouted.

‘I’ll always make mince pies.’ Daisy looked over at the man with dark curls, standing next to Imogen. She remembered Dexter from school, and he hadn’t changed much since then. Not like Avery. That thought had her scanning the rows of seats, looking for him. Except he didn’t live here either, did he? Not long term. And maybe May hadn’t forced him to come out, blackmailed him with some horrible task so he was obliged to sit on an incredibly hard chair and listen to the villagers bicker.

‘Mince pies do not a winter village extravaganza make,’ Ermin said. ‘Sorry, Dexter. I’m not belittling your mince pies.’

‘Heaven forbid anyone would belittle the mince pies,’ Daisy whispered.

‘Shush,’ Harry said, but she could hear the laughter in his voice.

‘My brother had a great idea.’ Daisy swivelled in her chair, and realized it was May who had spoken. She hadn’t seen her brother’s friend since she’d got back, but they’d caught up at the wedding. She smiled at her, and May returned it, her long dark hair loose around her shoulders, her brown eyes warm. Then Daisy’s gaze travelled along the row, and there was Avery. He was in a black hoody and jeans, his hair a mess, his stubble glinting under the lights.

‘May’s making it up,’ he called. ‘I don’t have any ideas for Mistingham’s Christmas whatever.’

‘You did,’ May argued. ‘You suggested a treasure hunt. Something that could be set up across the whole village. You said you could make some sculptures.’

‘You’re inventing it,’ Avery said calmly. ‘I’m building a house. When would I have time to make wooden sculptures?’

‘I never said they were wooden,’ May fired back, and Daisy saw panic flash across Avery’s face, there and then gone.

‘A treasure hunt is a wonderful idea,’ Fiona said. ‘It’s something everyone, children and adults, could get involved in. We’d have to create the trail, of course. Make sure it was challenging enough, and that the rewards warranted the effort. Were you thinking of having clues, Avery?’

Avery sent his sister a stark glare. ‘I think you’d need clues,’ he said slowly, ‘or everyone would just be aimlessly wandering around, looking for checkpoints.’

‘Excellent observation,’ Ermin said. ‘This does sound promising.’