Page 38 of The Merry Christmas Project

Nell sent a row of laughing emojis followed by :

Er … the storm ? ? ?

I rubbed my eyes and got out of bed, pulling on my dressing gown on the way to the window.

‘Bloody hell !’ I gasped once I’d opened the curtains.

My bedroom was at the front of the house and had a view down the whole of World’s End Lane to the houses at the other end of it. The lane was covered with tree debris : twigs, leaves and small branches. My end had borne the brunt if it. The road had turned into a shallow lake ; the car was sitting in several inches of water, the dustbin had overturned and bags of rubbish were strewn across the drive, some floating in the road. Directly below me, two terracotta pots had blown over and smashed.

It’s like a war zone out there. I can’t believe I slept through it.

I can. Don’t you remember singing White Christmas to Olek last night when he picked us up and repeating the merry and bright line over and over ?

I sniggered to myself; it was starting to come back to me now. Poor Olek. I sent her a line of embarrassed face emojis.

Nah, he loved it. He said it was worth it to see you get into the Christmas spirit. Right. I was just checking your cottage hadn’t been blown away Wizard-of Oz style which it hasn’t. So now I’m going to go back to sleep. You should do the same.

I can’t. Daniel’s coming over first thing.

OMG I forgot ! Good luck, I love you, don’t do anything rash ! ! PS. You’ve probably got a purple tongue.

Love you too. Call you later xx

I put my phone down and I checked my tongue in the mirror, straight away wishing I hadn’t ; not only was my tongue the colour of mulled wine but so were my lips.

‘Gross,’ I muttered and took my fuzzy head, sour breath and stained mouth downstairs to put the kettle on.

I was almost on the last step before I realised that something wasn’t quite right. The smell was off. I could normally smell yesterday’s candles, but today the air smelled dank. I put my bare foot on the rug and recoiled ; the floor was sopping wet. I looked up automatically, checking the ceiling for a leak, but there was nothing there.

As I squelched down the hallway and opened the door into the kitchen, my heart plummeted.

The kitchen floor was underwater. Only a couple of inches now but the water level had been higher at some point because the cardboard boxes …

‘Oh no, the boxes!’ I groaned.

I’d had a huge delivery of stock yesterday : the labels, the ribbons, wicks, and the pretty little boxes I pack each candle in. I’d bulk-bought enough to see me through to January and it would all be ruined. I could have kicked myself for not moving everything to the spare bedroom yesterday, but I’d run out of time and was too tipsy to do anything about it when I got in last night. I paddled over to the boxes and tried to lift one onto the kitchen table, but it disintegrated in my hands and all my lovely Merry and Bright packaging fell into the dirty water. The cold water, I realised belatedly, as I started to shiver. The house was freezing. Had the heating gone off ? And the electrics ? DIY was not my strong point ; I knew how to change a fuse, but beyond that I called in the experts every time.

This was all I needed. I pressed my hands to my face, not knowing where to start.

Phone the landlord ? Rescue my stuff ? I paddled across the tiled floor and picked up the kettle. Everything could wait for a few minutes. I had an urgent need for strong coffee. Was it too early to add a dash of brandy … ?

Before I’d even had chance to turn on the kitchen tap, there was a heavy, insistent knock at the front door. I splashed back along the hall, cursing myself for not having put my wellies on and yanked it open.

A man dressed head to toe in sensible waterproofs was moving some of the pieces of terracotta pot from the porch and stacking them to one side. It looked like he’d already righted the dustbin and collected some of the rubbish. He turned, his face lined with concern. It was Daniel. I’d never been so pleased to see a friendly face in my life.

‘I know I’m early,’ he said. ‘But I heard about the flooding and wanted to check on you. Are you OK ?’

Now that he mentioned it, I wasn’t OK. The tears, which had been waiting for their opportunity to strike, sprang out of my eyes.

‘No,’ I sniffed. ‘The house is flooded, or at least the kitchen and the hall are. Not sure about the living room yet.’

‘Oh, mate, I’m sorry.’ He gave me a sympathetic smile. ‘Shall I come in ?’

Mate. I tried to ignore all the implications of that word and focused on the fact that I was no longer having to deal with the day from hell on my own.

‘Yes please,’ I mumbled, wiping my tears on the sleeve of my dressing gown.

It was very gloomy outside and I realised the house was still in darkness. I reached around to switch the hall light on, but the Daniel lunged forward and caught hold of the edge of my dressing gown.