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Mandy winked. “Don’t rush.”

Lucie shot her a playful scowl before slipping her arm through Rose’s, mirroring Frances on the other side. Together, they made their way slowly back through Candy Cane Lane.

“I’ve had a lovely time,” Rose said once they reached the front door.

Frances opened it, flicking on the hallway light.

“Rose, would you mind if I popped by tomorrow afternoon?” Lucie asked. “I’d love to hear more of your stories about the theatre.”

She turned back, eyes wide. “I’d like that. “

“Around one o’clock suit you? I can bring my lunch, and we can eat together.”

“Oh, yes,” she replied eagerly.

“Why don’t you brush your teeth, Mum?” Frances said. “I won’t be a minute.”

“Okay. Night, Lucie.”

Lucie watched as Rose shuffled inside. “She remembered my name.”

“She did. She might forget it by the morning, you never can tell,” Frances said, a soft amusement in her voice. “Thank you... for helping with Mum. Are you sure you want to come tomorrow? I wasn’t suggesting you should start right away.”

Lucie gave a small shrug. “It’s fine. No time like the present, and I get the impression you could use the help now.”

“That I won’t deny. I’m home on weekends, so if you want to come during the week?”

“Suits me perfectly,” she replied, even if she would have liked an excuse to see more of Frances.

“Wonderful. Well, good night, Lucie. It was nice to meet your family... and spend time with you.”

“Night, Frances — and thanks again for the hot chocolate and extra cream.”

Lucie walked slowly backwards until Frances’s amused face disappeared behind the door.

Even though she suspected she wouldn’t catch up with her dad and Mandy, Lucie hurried through the hall and out of the north door. The road leading down to the village was pitch black, with no sign of torchlight. By the time she reached the gates, she could just make out Mandy heading down the path to Croft Cottage.

Where was her dad?

Scanning the village, she saw movement by the churchyard. Heading over, she found him sitting on a bench along the path, lit by a bright lamppost.

“What are you doing here? It’s a bit past visiting hours,” she said, taking a seat beside him.

He chuckled. “I wander over occasionally. To see them both.”

Lucie followed his gaze to the two familiar graves across the path. Her gran’s stone on the left read, Lily May Brown; the one to its right, Julia Anne Brown.

“It feels like yesterday your gran died, not thirteen years,” he said. “We lost your mum so long ago... it sometimes doesn’t feel like she was ever real.”

“I’m living proof she was, Dad.” She linked her arm through his and gave it a squeeze.

He was right, though. Gran’s death did feel close, and not being old enough to remember her mum, that loss had always felt strangely unreal.

“You are, and it’s nice to finally have you home for Christmas,” he admitted quietly. “It’s been too long.”

“You had Mandy and the pub to keep you busy,” Lucie replied, trying to ease her guilt.

“Still, it would’ve been nice to see you now and then.”