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“Here. Use this.” She handed it to Matt, who wrapped it around Poppy with a grateful smile.

“You’re very kind.”

“The little one needs warm milk inside her.” Mabel turned back to the stove, busied herself for a few minutes and then brought two mugs of steaming hot chocolate to the table.

They were a work of art, topped with fluffy whipped cream flecked with freshly grated chocolate, and studded with marshmallows.

“That looks delicious. What a treat.” What was the likelihood of Poppy holding the mug without spilling most of it down herself? “Thank you, Mabel. Elsie, maybe you should put the cat on the floor while you have your drink. What do you say, girls?”

“Thank you,” Poppy said dutifully, picking up the mug with little hands while her father helped steady it.

“Thank you,” Elsie said. “Is this magical hot chocolate? If I drink it, does it make me forget things?”

Oh, not again.

Brooke wanted to put her head in her hands. Why didn’t children come with an off-switch?

The school kept telling her that Elsie was gifted and expressed interesting ideas for someone so young (a comment that could be interpreted in more than one way as Matt had wryly observed). Her unusually sharp observation skills often startled and impressed Brooke, but not right now. Right now, Brooke wanted her daughter to keep her thoughts, interesting or otherwise, to herself.

She tried distraction again. “Granny always says there’s nothing a warming mug of cocoa can’t make better.”

Matt gave her a look that said that it would take more than a warming mug of cocoa to compensate for spending Christmas with her parents, but fortunately, he kept that thought to himself.

Mabel handed Elsie a silvery, long-handled spoon.

“Why would it make you forget things?”

“That’s what happens in one of the books. The fourth one. Tripalot and the Magical Hot Chocolate.” Keeping an arm around Crumpet, Elsie picked up the spoon and helped herself to a mouthful of the chocolatey cream. “The witch gives someone a hot chocolate to stop them moaning about their problems, and right away they forget they have problems. But Tripalot gets the spell wrong and the woman doesn’t just forget her problems, she forgets absolutely everything, including who she is. She forgets her name. She forgets where she lives and how to get there. Then she starts complaining that she has forgotten everything, so Tripalot has to let her stay until the magic wears off.” Elsie was giggling. Chocolate dusted her upper lip. “It’s very funny. If I drink all of this, will I forget my own name?” Giggling shook the mug and droplets of chocolatey milk spilled onto Mabel’s table.

Brooke wished there was something she could drink that would erase this whole episode.

“Honey, keep the mug steady. And please be careful around the cat. Don’t spill chocolate.”

Without fuss, Mabel put a cloth on the table. “Do you have things you need to forget?”

“I have a lot of things I can’t forget, especially when we get to Granny’s. Mummy keeps saying, Don’t forget, Elsie. I have to remember to say Mommy not Mummy, or Granny will say that living in London is changing her and not in a good way. I have to remember not to talk too much about Nanna London, or our house, or how much I like my school. And I definitely can’t tell her that I miss Arthur.”

Mabel raised an eyebrow. “And who is Arthur?”

“Arthur is our dog. We’ve had him a year. He’s a spaniel and he’s very naughty. He eats things that aren’t food. He ate one of Poppy’s socks and Daddy had to take him to the vet. But we can’t tell Granny we have him because she doesn’t think people should have dogs in cities and she’ll give Mum—Mommy one of her frowns.”

Brooke mopped up the milk, wishing there were enough for her to drown herself. She’d mentioned those things in what she’d hoped was a casual tone, but Elsie had clearly formed a list in her head.

“Elsie—”

“We take him to puppy training classes, but he isn’t that easy to train.”

The dog was a lot easier to train than her children, Brooke thought. With Arthur, all it took was a stern voice and a doggy treat, which was more than could be said for Elsie. Also, no matter what she did, Arthur made her feel like the best person on the planet. In his eyes, she was perfect as she was. With the children she was constantly aware of her deficiencies.

“That’s a lot to remember,” Mabel said calmly. “But you can be reassured that the hot chocolate won’t affect your memory.”

“That’s good.” Elsie licked both sides of the spoon. “This is the best hot chocolate I’ve ever tasted. I feel warm inside and outside. Are you sure it’s not magical?”

“A warm drink has its own special magic,” Mabel said. “Your grandmother is right about that. It can be comforting and make you feel a little better about everything. A little more able to cope.”

“Mummy should have some,” Elsie said firmly. “Before we crashed, she said, I can’t cope with this.”

Brooke looked at her, aghast. “I didn’t say that, Elsie.”