Leo Bold looks between me and Sully.
‘You know? I can help,’ Sully puts in. ‘With the icing demo. I can even supply the gingerbread men if you like,’ he adds.
‘Won’t your grandfather mind?’ I ask, wanting to hop from foot to foot with happiness, this is going so well. It’s obvious Sully knows nothing about the Great Gingerbread Spat of 1982 that set our two houses warring.
‘I doubt it. He’s knocking off earlier and earlier these days now that I’m there to clean and lock up. I can put aside sixty gingerbread men, no problem, bring them to the school, say two o’clock-ish?’
‘That sounds great,’ I say, smiling up at the poor, beleaguered teacher. He knows when his number’s up.
‘All right,’ Leo says, his shoulders dropping. ‘Friday, two p.m. sharp. That gives you an hour and a half, but you’ll need to help clear up, Mrs…?’
‘Ms,’ I reply, ‘but you can call me Margi. Thank you so much,’ I tell him, and I really do mean it. ‘The kids will be so happy. And thank you, Sully. I just knew you were going to be a lovely addition to the Wheaton community. That’s neighbourliness, isn’t it?’ I say, turning pointedly to Lucy, who’s sucking her cheeks into a half-amused, half-outraged pout. ‘Well.’ I deliver my parting shot with a big smile. ‘Have a lovely evening, you five.’
Pleased with my work, I make my way back to the bar then onwards into the snug where Charlie’s looking delightedly between me and the sausage rolls and rubbing his hands together hungrily, and it almost feels like there’s nothing missing from my evening.
‘To friends and more,’ he says, as we clink our glasses together.
‘I’ll drink to that.’
It’s late, and I’m rattling around the kitchen doing some last-minute candy decorations inventory when I hear the sniffing from Lucy’s bedroom. Not being one to interfere, I listen at her door, count to twenty, take some deep breaths and, when I’m convinced she simply must need her auntie, I knock.
‘Luce, darling? It’s me.’
I get no reply, so I peep round the door, and there she is, a sorry shape under the duvet and two dark-circled eyes peeping back at me.
‘Auntie Margi,’ she says, and it’s so pitiful I fly to hug her.
It takes a lot of rocking and shushing like Lydia used to do to her when she was tiny to comfort her. Eventually, I feel Lucy slumping in my arms. I can feel the exhaustion in her whole body.
‘Luce, it’s a frosty night in the middle of winter, the exhibition is nearly ready, you don’t have to get up for work in the morning. I figure we’ve nothing to do. Why don’t we just… chat? About Craig and maybe… why you’re here and not living it up in Birmingham with your mates? Not that I don’t want you here. I really do.’ I say it as softly as I can, giving her a gentle squeeze to cajole a response from her, and, very slowly, it happens. Her sorry, sleepy eyes lift to mine and she starts to say it all out loud.
‘It was the pub that did it. At first it was just me, Fern and Shell, and even though they’re kind of young, it was kind of nice too. And then you roped in poor Leo and Sully as well, and at first it was nice, but then after a while, and a few drinks, it struck me.’
‘What did?’
‘Sully and Leo were flirting all night. It was like watching a golden retriever trying to get a saluki to run after a stick, Leo’s so…’
‘Stand-offish?’ I suggest.
‘Refined, self-contained,’ she corrects. ‘But they were kind of perfect together, in spite of their differences. Sully couldn’t have been nicer about Leo’s Ofsted worries, he really let him talk, you know? Then there’s Fern and Shell acting like some kind of power couple. They’re basically made for each other, aren’t they?’
I nod. ‘I know.’
‘And I was the odd one out. I was lonely in a pub full of people.’
‘You’ve done so well to make new friends, Luce. That’s a bit miraculous if you think about it.’
She doesn’t let this sink in. ‘But it’s just… I sat there with everyone coupled up, and I kept thinking, is this it? Have I missed out forever? Was Craig it?’
‘Pfft!I only met him that one time at your place and I can tell you with my hand on my heart, Craig wasn’t anything, let aloneit!’
She nods slowly, thinking. ‘All that time I was with him, it was a waste. And Reese before him? He ghosted me after practically moving in for four months, and there were the others, all nice enough, but nothing permanent. There’s something wrong with me.’
‘There’s not,’ I say. ‘You are perfect.’
She passes this off with an eye-roll. ‘You always say that.’
‘Because I’m old and wise, like an oracle. Trust me. It’s true.’
