Page 49 of Christmas All the Way

‘Oh,’ she exclaimed. ‘But I’m not—’

‘You definitely are,’ Raff assured her. ‘I’m just your assistant.’

Feeling herself start to blush, Grace turned to Sanjay. ‘I can’t wait to see it. Let’s go.’

To Grace’s eyes, each of the stops on the light trail was more magical than the last, but she decided the Land of Sweets was her favourite. The fire pit was unlit but she could imagine it surrounded by children and adults alike, basking in its glow as they toasted their marshmallows. Or at least she thought it was her favourite until she reached the glade of the Sugar Plum Fairy. Tucked away on a rectangle of grass that was shielded from the green, a touch of the button sent it bursting into brilliance, a riot of pinks and blues and lilacs and silver, dazzling her eyes as the figures twirled and spun around. The second button lit up a glorious throne beneath a silvery moon. ‘Oh,’ Grace breathed, turning to Raff with shining eyes. ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’

He nodded, but didn’t look away. ‘My thoughts exactly.’

Back on the green, they made their way through the glowing arch of spindly branches to the Christmas tree, now unlit and shadowy as dusk approached.

‘So what do you think?’ Raff said as they came to a halt in front of the tree. ‘Happy?’

‘Yes,’ she replied, resisting the urge to go back to the start and do it all over again. ‘I’m very happy. But what do you think?’

He shook his head. ‘I think it’s going to take some beating.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ Grace said fervently. ‘So what happens now?’

‘Sanjay and Freddie go back to Santa’s Secret,’ he said. ‘Paul and the other electricians turn everything on – all the lights and the stalls – and make sure it’s all safe and working as it should. And then we all meet back here tomorrow evening at six o’clock for the big switch-on.’

Grace gnawed at her lip. ‘Should I stay to help Paul? What if there’s a problem?’

Raff smiled. ‘Seriously, Grace, you’ve done enough. Leave this bit to the experts. It really isn’t the first time they’ve done this.’

She exhaled slowly. ‘You’re right. I think I’ve turned into a control freak.’

‘Not at all,’ he soothed. ‘You just want everything to be perfect. A bit like Keeley.’

Grace couldn’t argue with that. ‘It’s one of the traits we’ve always had in common.’

‘But now it’s time to go home,’ Raff went on. ‘Have a glass of wine, a nice bath, eat some chocolate or whatever you like. You’ve earned a night off. Enjoy it.’

A wave of weariness washed over her. ‘Okay,’ she said, relinquishing the last vestige of worry that she hadn’t done enough. ‘I suppose I can do that. Thank you.’

It wasn’t until she was back in the sanctuary of Keeley’s cottage, with a steaming cup of tea and a mince pie smothered in Bailey’s whipped cream, that Grace realised just how much time she had spent in Raff’s company that day. He’d been helpful, supportive and funny, making her laugh and keeping her sane. Now that the work of the committee was almost done, she couldn’t help wondering how often she would see him. There was always a chance that she might bump into him at work, of course, and she had his number if she needed to speak to him, but the opportunity to spend more than a few minutes chatting was unlikely to present itself, unless she sought him out. Could she, she wondered as she sipped her tea. Should she? Keeley would undoubtedly tell her she should but Grace wasn’t convinced. As much as she enjoyed Raff’s company, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was simply being polite. Perhaps it was better that after tomorrow they wouldn’t see each other as much. It would make it much easier for Grace to prepare for the day when she left Freezy Tye for good.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

We must have candlelight and music and gaiety, for Christmas is naught without them.

The Merriest Month, ELIZA NORTON

Keeley had always been glad Freezy Tye did not have any famous residents. There were other picture-perfect villages nearby that were home to reality TV stars, ageing rockers and celebrity chefs; occasionally, one of them became embroiled in a newsworthy story that brought journalists and photographers haring down from London to cause havoc in the village before the news cycle moved on to the next story and they vanished as quickly as they had arrived. But Gavin’s cousin was married to the brother of moderately famous nineties boy band member, Deke Decker, who could be relied upon to bestow his presence on Freezy Tye at the end of every November to turn on the Christmas lights. It cost Gavin a small fortune in drink because Deke brought an entourage, all of whom expected a free bar at the pub, but it did ensure the village got some column inches in the local press, and drew in a crowd from other villages who could not produce a celebrity of their own. This year was no exception; Keeley guessed there must be upwards of five hundred people gathered on the green to watch him kick off the Freezy Tye festive season. She couldn’t help wondering whether any judges from Britain’s Most Christmassy Village were among them. The dates of their visits were kept secret, although Keeley knew they came to each competing village more than once before the winner was announced in mid-December, and as far as she knew, they never revealed their identity while they were there. Gavin insisted he could spot them a mile off when they visited the pub, and made sure the drinks they ordered were generously poured, but Keeley wasn’t sure his powers of observation were that potent. Then again, Freezy Tye had won the competition so many times that perhaps he was onto something after all.

As far as Keeley could tell, looking at Deke now, he had not changed his look or his hairstyle in thirty years. He stood on the makeshift stage beside the unlit Christmas tree, wearing baggy, low-slung jeans and a black puffer jacket over a pristine white T-shirt. He grinned from beneath curtains of sandy blond hair and raised the microphone to his lips in the manner of a legend addressing Glastonbury. ‘Hello, Freezy Tye! How you all doing?’

An enthusiastic cheer rose up from the assembled crowd, Grace among them, which caused Keeley to grin. ‘I can’t believe you’ve never been here for this,’ she said, glancing sideways at her friend. ‘Weren’t you a massive Deke fan, back in the day?’

Grace shook her head staunchly. ‘No, I loved Rory. The only one who had any real musical talent.’

Keeley wasn’t convinced any member of Boy Next Door had been blessed with much musical ability, as evidenced by a conspicuous lack of solo success when the band broke up, but it was a topic she and Grace had disagreed on many times over the years and she wasn’t about to open up old wounds now. ‘Well, as you can see, he hasn’t changed much.’

Grace frowned. ‘Did he have those teeth in the nineties? They look bright enough to steer ships away from rocks.’

Keeley laughed. ‘You can’t blame him for that. He does live in Essex.’

‘We live in Essex,’ Grace pointed out, unpleasantly reminded of Jesse’s too-white grin.