Page 85 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

‘Exactly. It’ll be easy for them. And I could … do a Zoom with them, check it’s all how I would have done it.’

‘You’re only in London,’ Sophie said with a laugh. ‘You could come back.’

‘Maybe.’ But it was going to be hard enough leaving Mistingham, leaving Sophie and Harry, the dogs, Avery, the sea and the sunrises and the salty air, once. She wasn’t sure she could keep doing it.

‘Have you done all this for free?’ Sophie sounded faintly incredulous, as well she might.

Daisy laughed. ‘I’ve broken my own rule. Exposure doesn’t pay the bills.’

‘But?’ Sophie sat opposite her.

‘But the sisters – Winnie especially – were so good to me after Mum died. She tried to look out for me, and I didn’t let her. She was patient with me, and I was a surly idiot. When I saw the house …’ She shook her head. ‘It was partly selfish because I wanted to work on it; I didn’t want to be left out of something that special.’

‘Your famous competitive spirit,’ Sophie said with a grin.

‘Exactly. But also, when Avery said it was the sisters’, it felt right. A home is such an important thing, and I wanted to help them have the very best version of it – somewhere that would be everything they wanted.’

‘What about your home? Your flat?’

‘On course to be finished before New Year,’ Daisy said chirpily. ‘Mo and Pete have been absolute angels, and I should have my lovely riverside apartment ready to start the new year on a good footing.’

‘Riverside, wow,’ Sophie said, but Daisy could tell her enthusiasm was feigned. Because even a shiny flat next to the Thames couldn’t compete with the sea, the crash of the waves or the wildness of being on the cliff path, back in her secret – not so secret, now – part of the beach, with the rock pools and the seagulls wheeling above.

Daisy thought she had found her new home, that she had walked away from the rubble of her old life and into something that made her happy. But now, after the last couple of months, she had a growing suspicion that she’d got it completely wrong.

‘It’s a bear!’ a small boy shouted, pointing at the beautiful wooden squirrel standing – large teeth out, a nut clutched in its paws – on the village green.

‘Not sure it’s a bear, darling.’ The boy’s mum adjusted his woolly hat. ‘We’ll find out when we start the hunt.’

The moment the treasure hunt had officially opened, there had been a flurry of eager competitors, because it was Saturday and the sun was out. The clue sheets could be picked up from hotel reception – where Christmas carols were playing louder than usual – along with pencils and a reminder of the prizes.

They included a slap-up meal at the hotel, a voucher for Hartley Country Apparel, one hundred tokens to use in Penny For Them, and a fish-and-chip dinner for a family of (up to) six from Batter Days. The grand prize was a Christmas hamper that included a mix of vouchers and local produce, and a small sculpture made by Avery especially for the winners.

‘Where do we start?’ Jazz asked, looking at the sheet. ‘How does this work?’

Daisy was with Jazz, Imogen and Lucy, because she had spent enough time staring at screens, and she wanted fresh air and to see every single one of Avery’s sculptures. He had kissed her goodbye once he’d finished weatherproofing the hare, said he needed to get around all the others, then go up to the house while the weather was good. Daisy had tried not to be disappointed that she wouldn’t get to do the treasure hunt with him, even though he couldn’t technically take part because he had been so closely involved in its creation.

‘I think each riddle or question will lead us to one of the sculptures, and they won’t necessarily be in a logical order,’ Imogen said, reading through her own sheet.

‘So the robin and the squirrel won’t be first and second.’ Lucy had Artichoke on a lead, the dog wearing a pink tartan jumper that Daisy was sure had come from Hartley Country Apparel.

‘I don’t think so,’ Imogen said.

‘And it looks like each clue has three parts,’ Jazz went on. ‘The first part leads you to a particular animal, the map clue gives you a hint about its location, but then there’s a third part to the question, and the answer will be found near the sculpture, so when we hand our answer sheets in, it’ll prove we’ve visited them all.’

‘OK, so what’s the first clue?’ Daisy asked.

‘Read it out!’ Lucy jumped up and down, her excitement bubbling over.

‘I might sometimes be considered Royal,’ Imogen read, ‘sometimes an Emperor or a King, but I also have ties to your favourite cheesy pasta. Find me, then write down why it’s strange that I’m a Christmas animal at all.’

‘Cheesy pasta?’ Jazz frowned.

Daisy watched the families and groups of friends huddled together in their big coats, some wearing Santa hats or reindeer ears. Natasha had set up a mobile bar next to the green, selling mulled wine and hot chocolate to fortify the explorers, and people clutched paper bags from the bakery, Dexter doing a roaring trade in mince pies and cheese pastries.

‘Do you know, Lucy?’ Imogen asked, and the little girl closed her eyes in concentration. Then she opened them wide, and beckoned the others closer.

‘What is it?’ Jazz asked.