‘And make sure Jessie doesn’t see the presents or you’ll spoil everything.’
‘Of course. I’m not completely heartless,’ called back her mother as she left the kitchen.
Thankfully, Lottie had got the mulled wine ready before they went out, so it only needed heating and pouring into the punch bowl, which was waiting on one of Nana’s best trays alongside a stack of ornately decorated mugs that Nana had brought back from one holiday or another. She took the lid off the saucepan and breathed in the smell; the mix of wine and spices was enticing. She was about to check the temperature when a scratch at the back door distracted her.
She opened the door and the Duchess shot in, but for the second time that day, she wasn’t alone. She was carrying something small and brown in her mouth as she leaped onto the worktop. ‘Duchess!’ shouted Lottie, fearful that the soup disaster was going to be re-enacted with themulled wine. She cornered the cat next to the large saucepan and scooped her up into her arms.Phew, that was close,thought Lottie. But as she lifted the Duchess up, the cat let out a meow of protest and promptly dropped the mouse into the mulled wine.
‘Eek!’ squealed Lottie and the mouse together. Lottie hastily put down the cat, grabbed a mug from the tray and scooped out the mouse. In two strides she was in the utility with the wine-soaked mouse skidding around the mug as he tried to escape. She tipped him into the mop bucket, put the lid back on and heaved a giant sigh of relief. The Duchess twirled around her legs proudly.
‘Where’s the mulled wine?’ asked Angie, popping her head around the door. ‘I don’t think I can hold them off much longer.’
Lottie would have to sort out the mouse later.
It was almost ten thirty when Lottie entered the drawing room. The family was gathered and Angie was making final adjustments to the pile of presents now crowded around the base of the Christmas tree. It was a perfect picture of Christmas. The Duchess came to have a sniff, in a blatant attempt to identify her gift. Bernard clapped his hands together and Lottie heard the front door open as the walkers arrived back from church. Almost immediately there was the sound of frantic claws on wood and the little dog came hurtling into the room.
‘Hey!’ Joe shouted, somewhat belatedly.
The Duchess instantly puffed up to the size of an overinflated beach ball and took off at high speed across the nearest sofa. The little dog was in hot pursuit, his skipping-rope lead bouncing behind him, now somewhat redundant.
‘Someone grab him!’ called out Lottie.
‘Get the rope!’ shouted Joe, narrowly missing snagging it with his foot as the dog rushed past him.
A frenzied game of chase ensued, until the Duchess careered across the presents and dived up the middle of the Christmas tree. The dog followed, sending presents flying in all directions.
‘My piles,’ complained Angie, surveying the chaos.
‘What’s happening?’ mumbled a sleepy voice from the doorway. Everyone froze. Jessie yawned and rubbed her eyes. They widened in disbelief as she took in the festively wrapped parcels scattered around. ‘He’s been,’ said Jessie, a huge grin spreading across her face as she spotted something in the middle of the presents. ‘My puppy!’ she shouted, and she skidded up to the tree and wrapped the dog in a hug.
The dog seemed to consider whether to continue his tree ascent after the cat, but the draw of a cuddle proved too much and he returned the little girl’s attention with doggy kisses.
‘Oh, no,’ said Zach, leaping in, ‘he’s not for you, Jessie.’ It felt like everyone winced.
Jessie hugged the dog. ‘But he’s with the presents. Santa has delivered him,’ said Jessie, matter-of-factly.
The scene Jessie had walked into would indeed reinforce her belief. ‘Yes, but …’ Zach seemed to be struggling to find a robust answer, ‘sweetheart, he’s not yours.’ Zach’s face was crumpled with the effort of breaking the bad news to his daughter.
The little dog was now snuggled in her arms, although he still had one eye on the cat stuck halfway up the Christmas tree. Jessie looked around at the assembled faces. ‘Did anyone else ask for a puppy for Christmas?’They all shook their heads. ‘Then hemustbe mine,’ she said, emphatically.
Zach’s chin hit his chest. ‘Can someone please get me a very large mulled wine?’
‘Ah – about the mulled wine—’ started Lottie, as pictures of the mouse doing an Olympic dive into it raced through her thoughts; but she was cut off by the cheer that went up when Angie walked in with the tray. Before she could say any more, Emily and Scott began ladling it into the mugs.
‘Who wants one?’ asked Emily, happily offering out a mug.
‘But …’ Lottie couldn’t find the words as everyone crowded round.
Emily handed Lottie a mug. ‘I thought I’d help.’ Lottie stared at the mulled wine. A few moments ago a small mouse had been doing backstroke in it. ‘Have I offended you?’ Emily looked aghast.
Lottie gave herself a mental shake, Emily was trying to help. ‘No, it’s fine.’ The mouse had only been dipped in it for a nanosecond. ‘And thank you, that was kind.’ Emily’s smile returned and she pressed the mug on her.
Joe joined Jessie and Zach on the floor by the tree. ‘Hiya, I’m Joe. I’m a vet. Do you know what a vet does, Jessie?’
Jessie nodded. ‘You look after sick animals. He’s not sick is he?’ She looked alarmed.
‘No. He’s not sick, but he is lost. I think he might have a family somewhere. Maybe he was a stowaway on Santa’s sleigh.’ Jessie’s mouth made a perfect ‘O’ shape. ‘What I’m thinking is that he really needs someone to take good care of him over Christmas, but then he’ll need to go home. Do you understand?’ Joe gave the dog’s head a pat.
Jessie’s face was stony and Lottie thought she was going to cry. ‘Sooo I get to have a dog, but only for Christmas?’
