‘I’ve had a few text messages from Blythe but nothing else. If she’d eloped, I think she’d have mentioned it,’ said Vicky.
‘Shame,’ said Phyllis, looking genuinely disappointed.
‘Anyway. If there’s anything we can do, you only have to say the word,’ said Norman.
‘Is that word doughnut?’ asked Vicky with a grin.
Vicky had barely waved Norman and Phyllis off when her doorbell rang again. She left her cup of tea and her untouched doughnut and went to answer it. Leonora was standing on her doorstep wearing so many layers she looked like the sale table in Primark. ‘Ahh, Vicky, youarein. How’s the little one?’
‘She’s doing really well. Thanks for what you did at the fireworks. It all happened so fast.’ Vicky replayed the events, and the panic she’d felt at the time came back.
Leonora waved her words away. ‘That’s what I’m trained to do. I still get quite a kick from making a correct diagnosis. I had a bet with myself that it was appendicitis. Anyway, the reason I’m here is it’s T plus one and you don’t have any decorations up.’
Bloody hell, thought Vicky, the friendly neighbour routine didn’t last long. ‘Given my daughter was in hospital until six hours ago I figured—’
Leonora held up a palm to stop Vicky’s explanation. ‘Completely understand, which is why I am offering to put your lights up for you. Well, not me but some volunteers who I will supervise.’ Leonora fixed Vicky with a look.
‘Wow. Yes, please – that would be terrific.’ You could say what you liked about Leonora but underneath her power-crazed exterior was a kind woman full of the spirit of Christmas. Vicky felt a warm festive glow envelop her.
‘Then I need all your decorations available by nineteen hundred hours today.’
‘No problem.’ Vicky knew exactly where all her decs were.
‘Now, the more pressing matter is where is Blythe and what on earth is happening with Murray’s cottage?’ Leonora fixed her with a look that made Vicky feel instantly less Christmassy.
25
8thNovember
Blythe was screening her calls and so far she had managed to avoid Leonora but she knew she was on borrowed time because the woman seemed to keep popping up on her parents’ doorstep like whack-a-mole. Blythe had a new plan but she couldn’t sort anything out until after work. Usually things were quieter with house sales on the run-up to the end of the year, as people focused on Christmas, so it was a good time to get things up straight ahead of the new year when everything often went a bit crazy. Sadly, the festive season was frequently the trigger that blew relationships apart and with the new year came a new start, which meant an abundance of people wanting to move.
Amir was in and out of Ludo’s office and kept telling anyone who would listen that they were working on next year’s strategy. Blythe wasn’t being drawn into it. Playing Amir’s games had got her into trouble and she’d learned her lesson. She had a long-term goal to become the person who Ludo wanted to hand over the reins of the company to and, whilst she knew it was likely a few years off, that was what she wanted more than anything. She turned her attention to Mr Smith. She’d found him a lovely ground-floor flat with a small garden for Honey the dog and it was a short stroll to the park and the pub. She felt that until he was focused on leaving, it was going to be very hard to sell his current home.
Blythe was going over and above by taking Mr Smith to the flat viewing, but as he didn’t have his own transport and inclination to move, it was likely he wouldn’t turn up if she didn’t intervene. She knocked at the door and retreated to wait in the car. The door opened and Honey dashed to Blythe’s car, jumped up at the driver’s window with her giant paws and started barking. It took a few moments for Blythe to realise she was on an extendable lead, not that Mr Smith seemed to have any control over it.
Mr Smith approached the car and Blythe buzzed the window down a fraction, which surprised the dog and made her bark all the more. ‘I’m not sure there’s time to walk Honey, Mr Smith. I said we’d view the flat at eleven.’
The man frowned. ‘Honey’s coming with us. It’s her new home too,’ he said, jutting out his unshaven chin.
It took Blythe a moment to realise the implications of this statement, by which time Mr Smith had already opened her back door and let the dog in. Blythe scrabbled in her coat pocket for the dog treats she now kept there thanks to having to pick up the dog walks that Vicky couldn’t manage. She felt a warm breath on her neck and assuming it wasn’t Mr Smith she thrust a treat over her shoulder in the hope the dog would eat that and not her ear. Her hand was momentarily engulfed by a tongue and the treat was gone. Thankfully her fingers weren’t. Blythe let out a sigh as Mr Smith got in the passenger seat.
‘Don’t go fast,’ he said, doing up his seat belt.
‘I won’t. You’re safe as houses with me,’ she quipped.
Mr Smith gave her a look. ‘Honey gets carsick.’
*
After the day she’d had, Blythe was very pleased to see that what she’d ordered had been delivered. It was step one in her new plan, one that she hoped would appease both Leonora and Sam.
‘When are you moving this?’ asked her frazzled-looking mum as she peered around the phone-box-shaped container occupying the hallway.
Blythe squeezed past it and hung up her coat. ‘Now – if Greg can give me a hand with it.’
‘He’s been summoned by Leonora to help put up lights. She has called here twice today. You are Holly Cross’s most wanted – she’ll be putting up posters on the church board next.’ She waggled a wooden spoon at Blythe.
‘Are you baking?’ Blythe asked, failing to hide the trepidation in her words.
