Page 27 of I’ll Be Home for Christmas

‘You’re up early today,’ Nanna chimed, giving Sarah a quick hug as she passed to the sink while Nanna cooked at the stove.

‘I’m going to go outside and clear the path before Jonathan can.’ She filled a glass of water from the tap.

‘Nobody expects you to do that,’ said Nanna as she added a little more milk to the pan of thickened oats. ‘Jonathan seems quite happy doing it for us.’

‘Let her help if she likes,’ said Grumps. ‘She’s young and fit, and a bit of manual labour won’t hurt.’

‘Exactly,’ Sarah agreed. ‘I want to earn my keep.’ She’d thought about knocking on Jonathan’s door, asking whether he remembered her dad, but she wasn’t confident enough to do that. Instead, she was hoping she might bump into him more casually. Her mum had always told her whatever she wanted to know about her dad, as had Grumps and Nanna, but to ask a total stranger, someone else who’d known him, even if only briefly, felt like an unexpected jewel she’d discovered. She hoped he could remember something, anything.

She unhooked her coat from the peg in the hallway. ‘I might do Jonathan’s path for him while I’m out there.’ She knew from other days that whilst he did his and her grandparents’ every morning and again late afternoon, the first stint was usually after the sun came up. And it was only just beginning to rise.

‘He’ll appreciate that,’ said Grumps as she wrapped a scarf around her neck.

‘Actually, I’ll do his first, that way he won’t see me and do it before I get the chance,’ she said.

Grumps put up his thumbs. ‘Good thinking.’

Nanna hollered from the kitchen, ‘If you see Jonathan, tell him there’s a big bowl of porridge waiting for him if he’d like.’

‘Will do,’ she called back, and once she had her hat and coat on, she went out.

The wide shovel was in the unlocked shed at the side of the house, along with a bag of grit and a broom that, according to Grumps, she could use to clear any powdery snow that lingered after shovelling. She’d seen Jonathan doing this process and it looked easy enough.

Holding the shovel – she’d go back for the rest of the things she needed to do a proper job – she walked carefully down their path, along the pavement and then up the path towards Jonathan’s front door. His chalet was similar to her grandparents’ place: both were two-storey and each had the same olde-worlde Swiss charm with heavy timber and sloping roofs. Each chalet had a balcony that stretched right across the front of the property and Jonathan’s had a second one at the back as well, whereas their chalet didn’t.

She started at the end of the path closest to the front door, the sun continuing to rise and proper daylight not too far away. It was surprisingly easy pushing the shovel along, probably thanks to Jonathan’s regular clearing, which meant the snow wasn’t deeply packed. It wasn’t long before she’d got all the way to the end of the path and she turned when she heard a voice behind her.

‘Hey, Sarah.’ Jonathan greeted her like they knew each other. And he was coming towards her in a big parka-like jacket that showed he was no stranger to continuous days of temperatures below freezing and heaps of snow. He had two mugs, one in each hand, and steam curled into the air from each.

‘Hey,’ she replied, happy to stop for a moment. ‘I thought I’d repay the favour.’

‘You really didn’t have to.’ He handed her a mug. ‘It’s Glühmost.’

‘Glühmost,’ she repeated, lifting the mug to her nose. ‘It smells good. What is it?’

‘It’s a hot mulled apple juice – this is the no-alcohol version. It has spices in it and it’s a great winter-warmer.’

She leaned the shovel against the nearest tree and took a sip. ‘It’s pretty good. I usually have a tea or a coffee, but I think I might be converted.’

‘I tend to have some in a thermos on standby while I’m clearing and stop for a small cup every now and then.’ He looked around at the wintry wonderland. ‘I get up at the same time every day, even though I’ve taken early retirement. This is when the town is at its most beautiful. It’s pretty perfect out here like this, isn’t it? Unspoilt.’

‘Almost.’ She indicated the bit she’d cleared.

‘I’ll just look at the rest of it.’ He made an appreciative noise after another sip of his own drink.

‘It’s definitely beautiful this early,’ said Sarah. ‘But when I’m on holiday and I don’t have to go to work, I’m usually under a duvet until well after the sun makes an appearance.’

He laughed. ‘Yeah, I guess I must’ve been the same at your age. How old are you now?’

‘I’m twenty.’

He whistled between his teeth. ‘I haven’t seen you since you were a young girl.’ He smiled. ‘I remember you being pretty scared of Schmutzli.’

‘What’s a Schmutzli?’

‘You don’t remember?’

‘I don’t think so.’