Page 91

A few minutes later, Summer came skipping back, holding Liv’s hand.

‘Is everything OK?’

‘Yeah.’ They both nodded quickly.

‘Right.’ Angela looked at them suspiciously. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing.’ Liv grinned at her, then Summer. ‘Right?’

‘Right.’ The girl nodded. ‘Nothing.’

‘Angela,’ Sarah interrupted her thoughts. ‘Do any other hedgehogs need to be named?’

* * *

Ryan looked down at his phone when it beeped, and grinned to himself. He hadn’t initially been in favour of involving Summer in his plans, but Jake had pointed out she was the last person Angela would suspect, therefore making her the perfect accomplice. The fact that she’d been so excited to help, taking part in what she called her “Santa’s Secret Mission”, had surprised him, but — as she’d pointed out — Santa had been very good to her, and she should help him if she could. He hadn’t expected Liv to help either, but obviously Jake and Summer had helped convince her.

He flicked through the images Summer and Liv had messaged him, scribbling notes in his pad. Some of the pictures were a bit blurred, and he got way more closeups of Summer’s fingertips than he’d ever wanted to see, but the images would give him what he needed. He was pretty sure Angela was still — rightly — angry with him, and would likely reject any gift he might offer her, but he was betting she wouldn’t reject something for her animals. And just in case she might, he’d do it in a way she couldn’t refuse.

Once he’d gotten all the details he needed, he started making calls, flexing his plastic friend to the maximum in return for emailed receipts. It took him over an hour, but soon his inbox started filling up with the responses he needed. Another hour after that, and a couple of calls to customer services departments, and he’d sorted out the red envelopes too. Jake had explained to him what needed to happen with that, and roped in the help he needed via Evelyn’s mum and her Women’s Institute friends, who had thought the whole thing a “wonderful idea” — even if they did complain about not knowing who their anonymous “Santa” was. But, despite Jake’s best attempts to convince him to sign any other name, he wasn’t doing it for the likes or kudos — it was about giving the gifts, nothing else.

After that, he stretched and fetched one of his new canvases, his camera and tripod, and Mallow’s favourite plate. When she saw him spreading out the grubby sheet on the coffee table she started bouncing up and down, squealing with excitement.

‘OK, come here, madam.’ He opened her cage door and she raced up his arm to her favourite spot, snuggling against his ear while he got out the special bottles and lined them up. ‘Are you ready for your spotlight moment? This one needs to be extra special. It’s for Angela.’ Mallow fluffed her crest and pinned her eyes at the name — she liked Angela too. ‘Go on then, down you go.’ He placed Mallow gently on the table, hitting record as she strutted towards the bottles to make her selections. Grinning, Ryan flicked through his phone, finding some suitably festive music for their latest — and probably most important — project, before reaching for one of Mallow’s favourite new toys.

* * *

The day before Christmas Eve, Angela sat at the kitchen table, her leg kicked up to rest on a chair as she curled ribbons for tying the gifts her mum was wrapping. The system worked well for them — with Cathy being quick and neat at the actual wrapping, while Angela preferred to take her time with the pretty touches her mum was less bothered about. The kitchen smelled deliciously of the cider that had been mulling away in the slow cooker for hours — another part of their run-up-to-Christmas tradition.

She tied another sprig of holly to a parcel wrapped with purple paper — recyclable, of course — and tied it with silver ribbons. The tag, cut down from a Christmas card from last year, was carefully written and added to the parcel.

She really hoped Evelyn would like the shawl she’d crocheted for her in ombre shades of green — matching her bright eyes. She thought she would, as she’d admired Angela’s ones so often. For Liv, it was a bright blue scarf, with a matching hat and gloves for when she was walking Sparks, who was definitely staying with her. Both of the women had been brilliant friends to her over the last few months, and especially since the thing she refused to think about with the person she didn’t want to name had happened.

She’d decided a few nights before that she wasn’t going to let a failed relationship ruin one of her favourite times of year. Instead, she’d just not think about it, or him, and would instead practice her gratitude and focus on all the things in life she had to be grateful for — like Bill’s, her mum, her wonderful friends and the community around her. She’d be grateful for all the animals she’d managed to save, and all the people who’d helped her with her work. And she’d focus on finding and enjoying every bit of sparkle and light the season had to offer.

She looked up at the knock on her door.

‘I’ll get it.’ Her mum jumped up, leaving Angela to tuck away the unwrapped gifts, in case one of them was for their unexpected visitor.

‘Well, you’ve got a nerve, showing your face here!’

‘I know, Mrs Turner.’ The last person Angela wanted to hear spoke to her mum. ‘But I really want to speak to Angela.’

‘And what if she doesn’t want to speak to you? Did you think of that, young man? Have you considered that maybe what you want isn’t of any interest to me?’

Angela smothered a grin, picturing the expression on her mum’s face. She hadn’t been one of the village’s most successful teachers — and then childminders — for nothing. And it sounded like Ryan — no, Rick, she corrected herself — was getting the very best of her stern teacher looks.

‘Of course I have. But it’s really important. I wanted to . . .’

‘Yes?’ Angela could picture the single, raised eyebrow perfectly. She’d seen it often enough in her youth — frequently when smuggling an animal into the house.

‘I wanted to give Angela a Christmas gift.’

Sighing, she levered herself from the table.

‘Thanks, I’ve got this, Mum.’ She rested her hand on her mum’s arm.

‘Sure?’