Page 3 of A Merry Little Christmas

‘Are we ready to get this party started, Wetherley?’ cried this year’s celebrity a little too loudly into the microphone from the stage.

‘Yes!’ roared the crowd of excited residents, all of whom were wrapped in thick layers to combat the biting Derbyshire air. The night sky was clear, stars were out in their legions, and while incredibly pretty, it was bitterly cold. Merry was glad that Freya had insisted they all wear Christmas hats and jumpers. Her sister-in-law, Hester, and Hester’s husband, Paul, had brought hot mulled wine to warm them up, but at almost eight months pregnant, Merry would be having an alcohol-free Christmas this year and had opted for the hot chocolate Olek had supplied.

As had Nell, who wasn’t pregnant but wanted to be. Merry studied her best friend’s face, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. Nell was almost evangelical in her determination not to let her own situation take the shine off Merry’s pregnancy, and it broke Merry’s heart to see it. If she could have one wish this Christmas it would be for Nell and Olek to conceive. Life could be very unfair sometimes.

‘OK?’ Merry asked Nell, tucking an arm through hers.

‘A bit nervous,’ Nell replied. ‘We get our test results tomorrow.’

‘I’ll keep everything crossed for you,’ she promised.

Nell glanced sideways at her husband. ‘It’s pretty obvious who’s the one with the problem, seeing as he’s already got a son, and I hate to be letting the side down. But at least once we know what we’re dealing with, we can move forward and make a plan.’

‘You don’t know anything yet. But if anyone can work it out, it’s you two,’ said Merry. ‘You’ve been such an inspirational couple to me since the day you met. You’ll deal with this together, just like always.’

‘Thank you, you’re a good friend, and I hope so.’ Nell chewed her lip nervously.

‘I know so,’ Merry said firmly.

‘Who is that woman again?’ Ten-year-old Freya tugged on her granddad’s sleeve. ‘I don’t think she’s a celebrity at all.’

She’d cut her hair on her birthday to mark reaching double digits. Gone were the plaits and the pink clothes. Now she wore her hair short, her jeans baggy and her boots chunky. Cole confessed to Merry that he missed his sunny little girl, but Merry was secretly impressed with this new confident young lady who wasn’t afraid to try out a new look.

‘Suzannah Merryweather,’ Fred supplied, picking up his little dog, Otto, who’d started to tremble in the cold despite being dressed in a fleecy elf outfit. ‘Presenter of a gardening TV show.’

Freya was unimpressed and went back to her hot chocolate.

‘They should have asked you, Auntie Hester,’ said Harley. At fourteen, he was already taller than Merry and liked to boast to Cole that it wouldn’t be long before he outgrew his dad too. He’d agreed to wear one of his dad’s Christmas jumpers but was keeping his coat zipped right up to the neck and the white furry pom-pom on the end of his Santa hat was just visible, peeping out of his coat pocket.

‘I did it two years ago, darling, remember, when you were in Whistler?’ Hester held out her mug to her husband Paul, who was topping up the mulled wine.

‘Oh yeah, Dad sent us photos,’ he replied with a grin.

Merry watched Harley while, presumably, the memories of his year in Canada ran through his head. He’d had a tough time readjusting to life in the UK, but now seemed to be thriving. A Saturday job working at Merry and Bright, a very sweet girlfriend and singing in a band with his mates all seemed to have helped him find his feet.

‘And we’ve kept our Christmas plans low-key this year because of our trip to Australia,’ added Paul.

‘In two days!’ Hester squeezed his arm excitedly.

Cole was envious of his sister and brother-in-law’s month-long road trip around Australia. But it wasn’t for Merry – barbecues on the beach didn’t appeal; for her, Christmas was about traditions and home and being with her loved ones.

‘You wore a red cape,’ said Nell to Hester. ‘And I completely fan-girled over you.’

Everyone started talking about their memories from previous Christmas lights switch-ons until Suzannah’s voice rang out from the stage again.

‘Ten, nine, eight …’ she chanted, gesturing for everyone to join in with her.

And as she lifted her hands to hover dramatically over the big button, everyone did.

Everyone except Merry. From nowhere, a lump appeared in her throat, preventing any words from passing her lips as her emotions overwhelmed her. Christmas always did this to her. But this year, there were more factors at play: the baby would be here soon; they still didn’t have a moving-in date for the new house; the busiest few weeks of the retail calendar were upon her; she was worried about her best friend’s fertility problems; and she had swollen ankles and a husband approximately a thousand miles away.

‘Three, two, one … Merry Christmas, everyone!’ Suzannah cried, putting all her weight onto the button.

Instantly, the tall Norwegian spruce which towered over the square sparkled into colourful life, illuminating the giant star at the top and every single one of the glittering baubles hanging from the branches. At the same time, the Christmas decorations strung around the perimeter of the square came on and the people of Wetherley cheered and whistled.

‘Wow!’ Freya clapped her hands. ‘That was magic. Everywhere is so beautiful.’

‘Technically speaking, it’s electricity,’ her brother corrected her. ‘Not magic.’