Lottie switched off the light and left the room. Emily blinked in the darkness. At her side, she felt Zach turn over huffily. She sat for a moment, waiting for her heart rate to settle. This was turning out to be a Christmas she wouldn’t forget – for all the wrong reasons.
Lottie laid out her outfit for Christmas Day, something she’d done every Christmas Eve since she was a child – apart from the Christmases where Nana had said ‘You’ll be fine in your pyjamas’, which was code for ‘You’re getting some new clothes’.
She finally got into bed and shivered at the chill of the cotton. She wriggled about to try to warm herself and the covers up. It didn’t work. She thought about the rest of the family all cuddled up with their partners. Even Jessie had gone to bed cuddling a much-loved teddy. Only she and Great Uncle Bernard were sleeping alone, and he wouldn’t be doing that for much longer. She let out a sigh.
Every time she tried to clear her mind, Joe popped up like a sexy jack-in-the-box. She kept having the same rowwith him in her head over and over again: where she would demand an answer to his behaviour nine years ago, and he wouldn’t have a good enough excuse. It was exhausting. On top of that, she was worrying about whether the turkey would defrost in time,andher feet wouldn’t warm up. It was useless. Lottie got out of bed, padded down to the thermostat and moved it up a few notches – she was fed up with being cold.
She went to the kitchen and refilled the turkey’s bath with fresh hot water. A scratching sound drew her attention to the utility and the little mouse imprisoned in the bucket. She got some cheese from the fridge and placed a tiny bit next to the mouse. ‘It’s not vegan,’ she told him and he sniffed it cautiously.
Lottie desperately wanted everything to be perfect for Christmas Day. She checked her to-do list again, which freaked her out more. A giant yawn escaped. She really did need to try to get some sleep, and there was no more she could do tonight, so she trundled back to bed.
Lottie felt like she’d just drifted off to sleep when she was woken with a start by what sounded like distant gun shots. What on earth was happening? She was out of bed and onto the landing when she realised the noise was coming from downstairs. Her heart picked up its pace as her sleep-addled brain tried to figure it out. Zach stumbled onto the landing rubbing his eyes, and there was another rapid burst of bangs. They looked at each other and exclaimed simultaneously: ‘Balloons!’
The siblings raced downstairs and Lottie flung open the drawing room door to a symphony of popping. Zach pulled open the curtains in a dramatic movement. What were left of the inflated balloons lay amongst the scattereddebris of shrivelled rubber. He put his hand on the radiator and flinched.
‘This is red hot. That’s what’s made them all pop.’
‘Bumholes,’ said Lottie, and a giggle escaped. Another balloon gave a sudden bang.
‘What idiot turned the heating up?’ he asked, good-humouredly.
‘What idiot put all the balloons next to the radiator?’ retorted Lottie, starting to pick up the colourful confetti of popped balloons.
‘I’m not blowing any more up,’ said Zach.
Lottie gave him a look that disagreed. ‘Top drawer.’
Zach’s shoulders slumped forward and he went to get them like a recalcitrant teenager. They spent the next half an hour chatting amiably, sharing memories and blowing up more balloons – thanks to Nana’s love of a buy-one-get-one-free offer, they had a lot. When they were out of puff they stood up to leave and surveyed the room. The tree still looked magnificent, a colourful pile of presents at its base – despite some torn wrapping thanks to Dave and the Duchess – and beyond that, the carpet was covered with multicoloured balloons like a haphazard rainbow.
‘I could just jump on all of those,’ said Zach.
‘Don’t you dare,’ said Lottie, giving him a thump. ‘Bed, or Santa won’t come.’
‘Santa’s already been and scared the crap out of my girlfriend, thanks very much.’
‘Sorry,’ she said, shutting the door on Christmas, but she was grinning from ear to ear.
They crept upstairs, but at the top a noise coming from down the corridor stole their attention. They both tiptoed closer until the sounds were clearer. They were met by a rhythmicboingingnoise, similar to an over-enthusiasticgymnast on a dodgy trampoline, accompanied by their mother’s voice giving encouragement to Scott. Zach and Lottie looked at each other, their faces matching pictures of horror.
‘More balloons?’ suggested Zach.
‘Definitely,’ said Lottie, and they raced back downstairs.
Chapter Twelve
Christmas Day
Jessie opened her bedroom door and announced in a loud voice, with more than a passing resemblance to Noddy Holder, ‘It’s Chriiiiiiistmas!’
Lottie rolled over and squinted at her alarm clock. 6.23 a.m. Even though she knew it could have been much worse, she groaned. It had been another hour after they overheard her mother’s amorous antics before she’d dared to venture back upstairs. But she couldn’t laze about any longer: she had a date with a turkey the size of an overfed pterodactyl. She prayed to the Christmas dinner fairy that the beast of a bird had defrosted overnight.
It was Christmas Day. She shook herself awake: it was her favourite day of the year, and a big smile spread across her face. Then she remembered that she’d be spending most of it with Joe and her smile faded. People talked about the elephant in the room – but today she’d be spending her time trying not to get trampled by a whole herd.
Doors started to open and she dragged herself out of bed and pulled on her Chewbacca onesie. She’d had toput her old dressing gown in the wash after Dave’s antics the morning before. She pulled up the hood, shoved her feet into her oldStar Warsslippers and shuffled onto the landing. A piercing scream jolted her to full consciousness.
‘Mum!’ yelled Lottie, pulling off her hood and grabbing her screaming mother by the arm.
‘You scared the life out of me, dressed up like that,’ scolded her mother.
