Okay, I’m mean, but I’m truly enjoying another appalled squeal. ‘Even if we raid the grounds for twigs, we’re still short of Christmas trees, candles and a million tea lights.’
He lets out a groan. ‘The Facebook ad was one desperate moment – I never thought anyone wouldactuallybite.’
I’m not interested in details – he got himself into this mess, now he needs to sort it. ‘Well, we’re onto damage limitation now. So do you have a budget?’
His voice is dry. ‘Not really.’
I’m searching his face for clues as he swallows. ‘Not really, because you haven’t thought about it, or not really, meaning there’s no money?’ He doesn’t look dodgy, just beaten.
‘Realistically I can throw a hundred at it.’
‘Jeez, Bill.’ It comes out as a shriek.
‘And I have a mate with a Christmas tree plantation, he might give us some mis-shapes.’ He takes in my horrified look. ‘Or a discount.’
He’s taken Libby’s money with no plans to put in the extra effort and he’s not getting away with this. But there’s a flip side too. His accidental advert ended up giving me my chance to make Christmas wonderful for everyone. As Fliss knows, I’ve jumped at the chance to prove that everything that I touch doesn’t have to turn sour. The accident happened at the end of a horrible year that began with George walking out. Then the whole of last December was a blur of hospitals and police interviews and Michael’s funeral and visits to the scene of the accident. When so many things have gone wrong I’m starting to feel that it’s all down to me. Being part of a lovely Christmas, if only from the outside, would give me hope that I’m not destined to wreck and ruin everything I go near. But that’s the last thing I’d ever tell anyone else. Especially Bill.
‘Lucky for you, I know all the best fairy light suppliers and their discount codes. We should get onto that straight away.’
He’s wincing. ‘Like … now?’
As for me inviting myself into his bedroom this soon, I’m going to have to grit my teeth and go with it. And pretend he looks like Quasimodo.
