‘Need to?’ prompted Emily, appearing concerned.
Lottie heard the crunch of footsteps behind her and a quick glance over her shoulder confirmed it was Joe and Megan. ‘I need to speak to Joe about Dave,’ she said, in a loud and deliberate voice, bringing Joe to a halt next to her.
‘What’s up?’ asked Joe. He, Emily and Megan were allstaring at her. Megan was running a critical eye over Lottie’s outfit. She didn’t care. She was dressed for the weather, not a fashion parade.
‘Could I talk to you in private?’ asked Lottie, putting on her most serious face and focusing on Joe.
‘Er, yeah. Okay.’ Joe was hesitant.
‘Are you going to the pub?’ Emily asked Megan.
‘Yeah, but—’
‘Let’s get in the warm.’ And Emily guided a reluctant Megan away.
As soon as they were out of sight, Lottie grabbed Joe’s arm and marched him back towards where she’d dumped the sacks full of holly. ‘You might as well give me a hand with this.’
‘What’s going on, Lottie?’ asked Joe.
‘Oh, you know, just a traditional Collins Christmas full of secrets and cock ups.’ She gave a forced smile and handed him a snowy sack. ‘Be careful of the pricks,’ she informed him, her face deadly serious.
He was grinning until he started to walk after her. ‘Ow!’ he said, giving his side a rub.
‘I did warn you,’ said Lottie, with a sense of satisfaction. She’d spent a few hours thinking how she’d like to stick pins in him. Who knew it would be so easily arranged?
Joe let out a more strangled ‘Ow!’, which made her turn round. ‘Scrotum,’ he whispered.
‘Ouch. Pricked in your … Well, yes, that’s going to hurt.’ She turned away to hide her smirk and carried on. She heard his footsteps crunch on the snow behind her as he caught her up.
‘Lottie, I need to explain—’
‘No, you don’t,’ she cut in without turning around. ‘You don’t have to explain yourself to me.’ She strode away sothat he couldn’t contradict her. She didn’t want to hear his excuses.
When she reached the middle of Dumbleford Green she dropped her sack of holly onto the snowy ground and rubbed her hands together to warm them up. Joe did the same. ‘Here’s the situation: Dave hasn’t delivered the ring, so Zach has come up with a new plan and we’re it.’ She pointed between herself and Joe.
‘Okay,’ said Joe, giving a furtive look in the direction of the pub as Lottie tipped the holly onto the snow.
‘Come on, we’re up against the clock on this one.’
Lottie explained the details and they worked as quickly as they could, given that they got pricked by the holly every time they touched it. After a few minutes, they stood back to admire their handiwork. Nestled in the snow in giant letters made out of the holly were the words ‘MARRY ME?’ Lottie held the last piece of holly aloft.
‘Where are you going to put that?’ asked Joe, appearing wary. Lottie used an uncensored expression to tell him exactly where she’d like to stick it. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Or maybe on the question mark?’
She did as he suggested. ‘Thanks,’ she said, picking up the sacks and heading to the pub.
Inside the Bleeding Bear, the Collins family were filling up the small bar area. Emily and Megan took off their coats and joined them by the open fire.
‘Oh my, now ain’t this quaint? It is quite possibly the cutest bar I’ve ever been in,’ said Megan, looking around appreciatively. The pub had low ceilings, ancient sturdy beams, beautiful wood floors and a roaring fire. Emily had to admit it was a very sweet pub: traditional, warm and welcoming; and now, thanks to the Collins family, itwas very noisy too. An excited yap came from somewhere behind all the legs, and Dave’s face appeared. He wriggled to get past Scott and made a beeline for Megan.
Megan let out a yelp.
‘Oh, no you don’t,’ said Emily, intercepting Dave before he reached his target. She picked him up and he wriggled excitedly at the attention. Thankfully, he seemed to forget about Megan.
Zach was close behind him. ‘Hello Megan. Where’s Joe?’ he asked.
‘Lottie wanted a quiet word with him,’ said Emily, and Zach’s face registered something that she couldn’t quite gauge. ‘I’m sure they’ll both join us soon.’ Emily tried to hang on to Dave, who was squirming more than an eel with an itch.
‘Yeah, they will. I guess. I mean I don’t know,’ said Zach, his eyes darting about warily. What was up with him?
