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‘Cracker time.’ Alex held up a cracker.
Poppy ran the pad of her forefinger across the embossed foil, following the pattern of the holly leaves. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d pulled one of these. Certainly not since she and Ben had stopped going round his parents’ house for Christmas dinner.
‘Poppy.’ Ginny nudged her and pointed at everyone else around the table, who were ready, arms crossed over in front of them, so each person held their own cracker and that of the person to the left, creating a long trail of crackers around the table. ‘Like this. It’s tradition here.’
Poppy picked up the cracker and looked around the table, copying how they were all doing it.
‘After three. One, two, three.’
Bangs and pops echoed around the kitchen as the crackers were pulled, showering paper jokes, tiny gifts and paper hats onto them all. A loud cheer rose as everyone picked up their prizes.
‘What did you get?’ Flora nodded towards Poppy.
Holding it up, Poppy laughed. ‘I think it’s supposed to be one of those spinning top things.’ Setting the small plastic spinner on the table, she spun it and tiny pictures of Santa, reindeer and snowflakes merged into one mix of colour. ‘How about you?’
‘A little padlock!’ Flora waved it in the air in front of her. ‘Hopefully it’ll be strong enough to keep you lot out of the biscuit jar.’
‘Oh, it won’t be. I can assure you of that.’ Darryl laughed as he flexed his arm muscles.
‘I was afraid that would be the case.’ Chuckling, Flora picked up her hat, and shook it out before placing it on her head. ‘Right, Secret Santa time, I believe.’
‘Here’s yours, Poppy.’ Alex passed her a gift bag.
‘Ooh, thank you.’
Peering inside, she pulled out a small round present wrapped in green and red paper. She held it to her nose. It was definitely a bath bomb, a Christmassy one at that judging by the smell. She unwrapped it to confirm, before digging into the bag again and pulling out a small tube-shaped gift – a small hand cream. She smiled. She could definitely do with that.
‘Oooh.’
Jerking her head, Poppy looked over at Flora, who was holding up a gold necklace, a golden paw print hanging from a delicate chain.
‘Wow, that’s beautiful.’
‘Oh, it’s gorgeous, Flora. Shall I?’ Susan stood up behind Flora, taking the necklace and fastening it around her neck.
‘It is, isn’t it?’ With the necklace in place, Flora looked down at it and wiped a tear away. ‘Thank you to whoever bought me this. I’ll treasure it always. And thank you, Susan.’
‘And there was me thinking we had a tenner as a limit.’ Looking around the table, Alex laughed. ‘I wonder who would have bought you that?’ He raised his eyebrow.
Poppy glanced at Percy. A fine rash of red flashed beneath his beard and across his face.
‘You can’t ask that. It’s Secret Santa.’ Percy cleared his throat.
‘You’re right, I won’t ask.’ Flora looked around the table and smiled. ‘Whoever it was, thank you.’
38
‘Your turn, Poppy.’ Spencer pointed his fork at her, a chunk of roast potato dripping gravy down his top, and grinned.
‘Really? Do I have to?’ Poppy grimaced. Mack and Mrs Moreton had made themselves at home since arriving just as Susan and Percy had begun serving Christmas dinner.
‘You do. You know you do.’ Alex laughed. ‘No one else has been allowed to get away with not doing it.’
‘Okay, okay.’ Grinning, she straightened her back and took a deep breath, ready to do her best impression of Santa. Laying her palms on the table, she tried her best. ‘Here goes… ho ho ho.’
Spencer laughed, the roast potato on his fork forgotten as it lay in a gravy puddle on the tabletop. ‘Now you, Mack.’
‘Right.’ Stretching his arms in front of him, Mack cracked his knuckles. ‘Ho ho ho.’
