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She was going to make the most of it.

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Mabel

Mabel checked her email hourly. Each time she did it, her heart beat a little faster and her hand shook a little more. Hope, she discovered, was a fragile thing.

The children had finally fallen asleep, after stories from Izzy, Matt and Mabel, although Brooke had commented that they were so excited she doubted they’d sleep for long.

Izzy and Jason had been absent for a few hours in the afternoon, both of them hidden away in Walter’s old workshop.

Mabel had sent Matt across to check they hadn’t succumbed to frostbite.

“What are they doing out there?” Brooke had asked, and Mabel had been vague.

“Making something, I believe.”

“What?”

“No doubt we will find out in time.”

They’d asked her permission and also asked her to keep it a secret, and she intended to do that.

When they both eventually returned to the house, they were cold but happy.

After a simple supper prepared by Brooke and Jason, the adults had gathered in the library to enjoy the evening together.

They’d opened another bottle of Walter’s excellent wine and everyone was in a mellow mood, although Mabel thought Izzy seemed a little quieter than usual.

She sat curled comfortably into one corner of the deep sofa, gazing at the Christmas tree, lost in thought.

Jason was editing the photos he’d taken that day, his entire focus on the screen as he worked.

Matt and Brooke were busy transferring brightly wrapped gifts from boxes into the red velvet stockings.

Mabel checked her email again, but there was nothing apart from endless spam, which she deleted wearily.

Had Chrissie seen her email? She wished there were some way of knowing.

There was no answer. But what if the lack of response was Chrissie’s answer?

Maybe she should have put something different in the email. She wished she could go back and edit it, but it was too late for that.

“That’s not for Elsie.” Brooke leaned across and took a small ballshaped object from Matt.

“It was in Elsie’s box.”

“Then I must have made a mistake when I was packing. I know it’s Poppy’s.” She pushed it into the right stocking, added the chocolate she’d brought and laid the whole thing carefully next to the fireplace.

“I don’t know how you do this.” Matt finished with Elsie’s stocking. “Every year you fill a stocking full of things they love. You’re clever.”

“It’s fun. I love doing it.”

Mabel closed her laptop to stop herself from fixating on her email. Was Chrissie stuffing Sylvie’s stocking? Maybe she was too caught up with Christmas preparations to check her email.

Or maybe she’d seen the email and decided that answering that on Christmas Eve was far too heavy and serious.

Chrissie probably wanted to be left to enjoy her Christmas, and that was what Mabel should be doing.