‘Odd spelling,’ said one.
‘And some letters are highlighted,’ pointed out the other.
‘Anagram of u, r, h, a, r, t perhaps,’ suggested Sam, running a finger over the bold letters.
The three of them looked at each other. ‘Ah!’ said one of the sisters. ‘Arthur always has the collecting bucket.’
‘Arthur! That’s it,’ said Sam, delighted. ‘Where does he live?’
‘Further up the hill, opposite side, with a green front door. Off you go.’ And they shooed him out.
Sam was soon being welcomed at Arthur’s. ‘My word. I wasn’t sure I’d see you today. Then I wasn’t sure I’d see anyone today,’ he said with a melancholy smile.
‘You not going to the pub?’ asked Sam.
‘Not this year. I’m not feeling very sociable.’
‘I can relate to that,’ said Sam.
‘You’ll be wanting this.’ Arthur offered him a cracker.
‘Actually, I’m after a clue. Probably in an envelope.’
‘This is all I was given,’ said Arthur, proffering the cracker. ‘I guess I can’t pull it on my own.’
‘Of course you can’t,’ said Sam, taking the other end. On three they pulled and the cracker snapped open. Out fell the usual hat, joke and a plastic frog along with a slip of white paper. Sam quickly unfolded it and read it out: ‘Clue Number Four: I’m a prize turkey.’
‘Whatever does that mean?’ Arthur’s puzzled face was peering at the clue.
Sam smiled. ‘I think it means I’ve come to the end of the treasure hunt.’
‘Then where’s the treasure?’ asked Arthur.
‘I think it’s at Blythe’s house.’
‘I’m just heading off there now. I’ll walk with you if you like?’
The question was, did Sam want to go?
*
‘This plan of yours,’ began Greg. ‘How confident are we?’ he asked Blythe, as he popped another peeled potato in the pan.
‘Not at all. But I’ve tried not to be pushy. There’s a note on the front door.’
Greg pulled a face. ‘And what does that say?’
‘Congratulations, you’ve won a meal for one (available as a takeaway if you’d prefer). Buzz once for takeaway, twice to join us for dinner.’ Blythe ran her lip through her teeth. ‘Was the treasure hunt a bad idea?’
‘No, it was a kind and thoughtful one. But that doesn’t mean he’ll want to stay for Christmas so don’t be disappointed if—’ The doorbell buzzed once and they both froze.
Blythe held her breath and Greg squeezed her hand. The doorbell buzzed again.
‘Thank Santa for that,’ said Greg. ‘Go get your man.’
Blythe kissed Greg’s cheek and dashed to open the door.
Arthur was standing on the doorstep alone. ‘Merry Christmas, Blythe. Was I right to buzz twice?’
