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Seeing his soon-to-be niece so full of life and joy, after they’d come so close to losing her, filled him with gratitude and utterly thrilled him. He was sure he was grinning like a loon as he jumped up and down, waving and whistling, but he couldn’t have cared less. Summer, the mini-miracle that she was, was recovered and thriving in her new life — he’d seen the test results to prove it. He was so pleased he’d been able to be a part of making it happen, even in a small way.

Soon, she’d be a Macpearson, and officially part of his family. And she and Evelyn were already utterly adored by them all. They had both just fitted in so easily, that it seemed as if they’d always meant to be a part of the Macpearson clan.

He glanced at Liv, now dancing with Sarah, bobbing up and down in time to the silver band’s rendition of “Frosty the Snowman”.

‘Daddy, dance with us.’

‘Yes, come on, Cal. Come dance with us.’ Liv’s outstretched fingers were warm as they wrapped around his, and drew him close. He couldn’t help but marvel at how easily, and well, the three of them fit together — dancing along and laughing as more floats drifted by in a riot of colour. Each one filled with people he knew, all of them raising money to help save the surgery. And help keep Liv with him — although they didn’t know that yet. Even so, knowing how well she’d settled in and hearing what the Broclington community said about her, he knew it would be a popular decision.

All around him people cheered, and the warm sun glinted off coins as they were dropped into the rattling noisy buckets and nets that were already weighed down by the generosity of countless thousands of people.

He was overwhelmed by the rush of emotion — the gratitude he felt to everyone around him donating money to save his future, and the futures of the people he cared about the most. But it was more than that: it was the sense of peace and just complete . . . rightness . . . he got when he looked at Liv. Everything just felt better, and a bit more right, when she was near him, and it was obvious that Sarah felt the same way too. It was exactly what he’d never realised was missing in his life.

* * *

Liv laughed as the floats meandered past, with people she recognised on almost every one. The offering from the local primary school was done up like a pirate ship — and someone had seen fit to arm the children with squirt guns.

‘Hey, Dr Emery,’ Timothy called cheerfully from the lorry bed — his blow-up parrot lopsided on his shoulder as he brandished his pistol. ‘Cash or splash!’

‘Don’t you think it’s hot enough some people might like that?’ Callum shouted back.

A hook-handed pirate who Liv thought was probably the school’s headteacher under the hot-looking wig, hat and make-up leaned down and whispered something.

Timothy grinned. ‘In that case . . . pay for a spray? Either way, hand over the treasure! Yo, ho, ho!’

‘All right, all right.’ She dropped some change in the brandished fishing net, and pointed surreptitiously at Callum, who received the full blast of water. The “ship” carried on through the village centre, closely followed by a 1950s float on which the residents were dressed in poodle skirts or leather jackets and jeans. Half of them were boogieing away while the rest gleefully heckled the crowd loudly for donations, enjoying being “too old to be told off”, as one of her patients had cheerfully informed her when she’d tried to get him to abstain from his nightly brandy. She waved extra hard when she saw Mr Davies dancing away, despite the ankle she’d strapped up for him a few weeks earlier.

As the heckling village elders rounded the corner, their float was replaced by a lorry dressed as a stage from which the local drama group acted out scenes from their latest show. She grimaced as Romeo clambered up Juliet’s balcony, lurching slightly as the truck moved. She really hoped she and Cal’s professional services weren’t going to be needed!

She smiled as another float rolled past, and another, each filled with members of the community — and her patients — and as they recognised her and waved, she was filled with a deep sense of peace and happiness. She felt more like a member of the community here in Broclington than she ever had anywhere else.

She grinned down at Sarah, excitedly throwing change into as many buckets and nets as she could reach, and realised what the feeling was: she’d finally found somewhere she could call home. And maybe, even people she could call family.

The thought didn’t scare her as much as it would have a few weeks ago, and she took it as a good sign.

As the last float meandered by, Sarah dragged her into the road to follow. ‘Come on!’

‘What are we doing?’

‘Joining in.’ She laughed, holding tightly to Liv’s hand as the street filled with people.

By the time they reached the car park at the cricket pavilion that had been transformed into a stage and the entrance to the fete, the crowd was as thick as any she’d seen at even the biggest event in London, and spilling out into the closed roads. After a few moments, Summer and “Santa” appeared on the stage, where they were joined by a vaguely familiar woman brandishing a microphone.

‘Is that . . . ?’

‘Miss Natalie from the news? Yup.’ Sarah grinned cheerfully.

* * *

Callum felt his stomach clench as he watched Summer wave to the countless number of people gathered around them. All their work, all their hopes, and his future in Broclington, were pinned on what was going to happen in the next few hours and days. And there was nothing else he could do to influence the outcome, which was terrifying.

As if sensing his worry, Liv’s fingers wrapped around his and gave a reassuring squeeze.

‘Well, hello Broclington. Merry Summer’s Christmas!’ A cheer rang round the crowd as Natalie started to speak, and she waited a few moments for it to settle. ‘Can you believe this is our third Summer’s Christmas?’

She played the crowd like an expert, building them up and up, and waiting for the lull again, before speaking so quietly that almost everyone fell silent to hear. ‘When we first met here two years ago, it was because we’d all heard of a cause so vitally important that we couldn’t not be a part of it: raising the money to save Summer’s life. And look how much better she is! All thanks to this amazing event, and you truly wonderful people!’

This time the crowd cheered each other and themselves for long moments, and she had to wait for nearly a minute before she could speak again. ‘All right, all right, thank you so much for your incredibly kind welcome. But, as it should be with this event, we all know it’s not really me that you want to hear from. Is it?’ She knelt down, throwing her arm around Summer’s shoulders, and offering the microphone to her. ‘Tell us all, Summer, how are you doing now?’