‘Now let’s not be hasty,’ said Leonora, concern flashing across her features. ‘This is probably the best display we’ve had for quite some time.’
‘Your call,’ said Blythe, fixing her eyes on Sam. They all waited for his response.
‘This whole Christmas obsession the village has is ridiculous and I don’t want anything to do with it,’ said Sam.
‘Then the Grinch stays.’ Blythe smiled and was conscious that at that precise moment she probably looked a lot like the Grinch. Sam did a double take, huffed and marched off across the road, his wheelie case skittering behind him.
26
9thNovember
Blythe wasn’t looking forward to going round to feed Turpin the next day. Perhaps now would be a good time to suggest that Sam took over the daily task. Although she knew Sam was frequently away, so she’d have to pick it back up then. Truth was she was very attached to Turpin. She couldn’t have a pet at her parents’ house because of her mum’s allergies and she wasn’t in a position to buy her own place just yet, which meant Turpin was the ideal adopted pet. At least she could put the food down in the utility and do a runner. She walked across the green and the sight of the Grinch made her smile. All the lights were now turned off in readiness for the big switch-on the following week. There were just a few sparkling on some of the hedges and a rogue elf on someone’s lawn as people tested that everything was in working order.
Blythe let herself in the back door. The utility door was open. She opened the cupboard as quietly as she could, took out Turpin’s food and bowl and promptly dropped the latter. It made a disproportionate racket as it clattered into the sink.
‘Blythe?’
Oh great, she thought.
‘Yep.’
Sam appeared in the doorway. He did not look happy. Clearly twenty-four hours had not improved his mood. ‘Why did you shut Turpin in a drawer?’
Blythe was bamboozled by the accusation. ‘I did nothing of the sort.’
‘Then why was I woken at one o’clock this morning by what sounded like rats tunnelling under my bed?’
Blythe snorted a laugh. ‘Oh,thatdrawer. But I checked and it was definitely empty when I shut it.’
‘Apparently he likes to go in that drawer, crawl out the back and sleep in the one the other side of the bed, which has my spare covers in. They’re covered in ginger fur.’
‘Did he give you a fright?’
Sam scrunched up his shoulders. ‘I dreamt I was in a coffin surrounded by rats gnawing at me.’ Sam scratched his eyebrow and looked like he was reliving the nightmare.
Blythe giggled. ‘Sorry. Is Turpin okay?’
‘He’s fine. It’s me who was traumatised. He then decided that it was dinner time so I had to get up and feed him. And when I woke up this morning he’d managed to open the drawer again but I didn’t notice and walked straight into it, bashed my shin and almost face-planted onto the wardrobe.’
Blythe bit her lip for a moment so she didn’t laugh. ‘Where is he now?’ she asked, concentrating on forking some food into a bowl.
‘Sulking under the bed because I’ve taken the covers out of the drawer to wash them.’
They regarded each other for a fraction longer than was necessary. Blythe looked away first. Her stomach was doing something strange, which was probably down to her mother’s turkey and pineapple hollandaise.
‘Right, I’ll wash these up and be off.’
‘Can we talk about the…’ He pointed in the direction of the green.
‘Weather?’ She was being deliberately obtuse.
‘No, the…’
‘Big lights switch-on?’
‘The Grinch,’ he said, his voice taut.
‘Of course. What would you like to know? I can probably get you a discount on some matching characters from the story if you wanted some for your front garden.’
