Page 58 of The Christmas Star

Theo chuckled. ‘I’m Theo,’ he said. ‘Maeve’s next-door neighbour.’ He put a hand on my shoulder. ‘I’ll be in the bedroom.’

‘Okay,’ I replied, my voice up an octave. As I watched him disappear, heat rose in my chest, spreading into my neck and then face. Scarlet cheeked, I returned my attention back to Joyce, Hattie and Alex.

All eyebrows raised, they all stared back at me.

I swallowed hard. ‘I can explain,’ I said.

CHAPTER 37

WhatsApp call over with, I stared at my phone, surprised my ears weren’t burning. I knew from their expressions that Joyce, Hattie and Alex weren’t buying my claim there was nothing between Theo and me. They were wrong though. My ill-timed nausea had made sure of that.

In need of a diversion, I clicked on TikTok to see if Mum had added another video and pleased that she had, crossed my fingers, hoping she was about to finally reveal her destination. With things going from bad to worse by the day, all I wanted to do was get her home so I could put the sorry mess I was in behind me.

‘Bonjour à tous,’ Maeve said when I pressed play. ‘Comment allez-vous? Today is the 24th of December.’

She smiled straight into the camera while Jackson made a fuss of Roma. The three of them had obviously squeezed in a little Christmas Eve shopping, as not only did Roma, sitting on Jackson’s knee staring adoringly up at him, look cleaner and fluffier; she sported a pink diamanté collar.

My head jerked and eyes narrowed as I spotted a bandage wrapped around Mum’s left wrist.

‘What can I say about today?’ Maeve asked.

You can start by telling us what you’ve done to yourself.

Maeve let out a long happy sigh. ‘Apart from the fact that it’s been absolutely wonderful.’

The carpus dressing told me that wasn’t quite true.

‘We have laughed, haven’t we, Jackson?’

Still a lad of few words, he grinned and nodded, while I wondered why he left all the talking to Mum. I let out a laugh, realising it was probably because he couldn’t get a word in edgeways.

‘And being honest, I’ve cried too,’ Maeve said. ‘Tears of joy, of course. Finally getting to meet Gisèle, I couldn’t help it. Although to be fair, neither could she.’

Mum’s wrist seemed to be bothering me more than it was Mum.

‘We were introduced to her lovely family, who were all so welcoming. Apologies if I mispronounce things but we met her son Raphaël and his wife Aurélie. Their daughter Anna and her baby daughter Félicité. Yes, Gisèle is a great grandmother. How good is that?’ Maeve shook her head and smiled. ‘Not that you’d think it to look at her. Not with her skin. We also met her great niece Eléa. A lovely girl, eh, Jackson?’

Mum had clearly hit a nerve and his cheeks reddening, Jackson put his head down.

‘Maeve, stop. She might see this.’

‘They got on so well I have the feeling the two of them will be pen friends like Gisèle and me. Except instead of letters, they’ll be communicating via that Insta thingy.’

Jackson’s blushes deepened. ‘I can’t believe you’re doing this.’

‘Doing what?’ Maeve gave him a mischievous grin. ‘Anyway, back to today. They certainly know how to celebrate here in France, don’t they?’

Like Theo and I, Mum and Jackson had obviously experienced le Réveillon de Noël.

‘We ate like kings. And the wine.’ Mum filled her cheeks with air and exhaled. ‘White, red, rosé, there was a different type for each course. Not that we got drunk.’ She put her hands up to clarify. ‘We only sipped and that was out of politeness. One, I don’t know the rules in France but by British standards, Jackson’s underage. And two, I’m the boy’s guardian while we’re here. A role I take very seriously, so no way was I going to overdo it.’

Jackson sniggered and putting a hand up to his lips to hide his amusement, inadvertently let not just me but the whole world know their alcohol intake wasn’t quite as Mum described. Either he’d managed to sneak in a couple of extra glasses behind her back or Mum had drunk more than she cared to admit. Although two things could be true at the same time, I considered, which might explain the bandage Mum wasn’t talking about.

‘Another thing I wasn’t sure about were the oysters. You like them, don’t you, Jackson? Then again, you would do, your dad’s a chef.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Rather than anything goes, I think I’m more of a visual eater. Don’t worry, I wasn’t rude. Against my better judgement, I tried one.’ She grimaced. ‘Although being honest, I did gag. I’d have much preferred a king prawn, but when in Rome and all that.’ She flashed her viewers a look. ‘And before some of you race to your keyboards…’

Chuckling, I loved how Mum had got the measure of her trolls and wasn’t afraid to challenge them.

‘…yes, I know we’re in France.’