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How was this ever going to work?

She closed her eyes briefly and breathed.

It had been years since she’d had a houseful of people and even longer since she’d spent Christmas with anyone other than the cats.

She saw a hint of desperation in Brooke’s eyes and felt a certain sense of kinship, but there was no point in hoping for a miracle. There was no sign of the storm abating. They’d have to make the best of things.

But what was that going to look like? What were these people expecting?

The adults might be prepared to be flexible but the children? They would be expecting a traditional Christmas. They would want a tree and twinkling lights. They’d want stockings and Santa.

Her heart gave a little bump.

She was willing to give them a roof over their heads and beds to sleep in, but she drew the line at hanging stockings and leaving Santa’s footprints on the hearth.

She wasn’t doing that. She couldn’t handle that.

But this wasn’t the time to get emotional. It was the time to be practical. “You’re all going to need somewhere to sleep, so we’d better sort that out as a priority so you can get settled. This house doesn’t exactly have a traditional layout, so you’ll have to be flexible.”

“I think it’s a perfect house,” Izzy said. “Perfect.”

The windows rattled and Elsie tugged at Brooke’s hand.

“I don’t understand. I thought we were sleeping at Granny’s house.”

“That was the plan, but sometimes plans have to change,” Brooke said in a bright, sing-song voice. “So it seems we’ll be staying here. Isn’t that exciting?”

Only Izzy seemed excited.

Elsie pressed closer to her mother and lowered her voice. “But there’s no tree.”

“You don’t need a tree to have a happy Christmas.”

“But you always say Christmas isn’t Christmas without a tree.”

Brooke’s cheeks reddened. “I’m sure I’ve never said that.”

“You did. You—”

“This year Christmas will be Christmas without a tree.”

Elsie looked confused. “So it will be like a sleepover?”

“Yes, like a sleepover.” Brooke’s smile was looking more tense by the minute. “But more fun. Festive. We’ll make it Christmassy, I promise. What an adventure.”

Mabel could see that she was trying hard to be positive for the children, and sympathy mingled with admiration.

“I want to sleep with Mummy,” Poppy said, lifting her arms to Brooke.

Brooke picked her up and settled her on her hip.

“I want to sleep with Not-A-Cat,” Elsie said.

“I guess that’s me sleeping on my own, then.” Matt made an attempt at humour. “Maybe I can share with the other cats?”

Mabel appreciated a man who could laugh even in a crisis. Her Walter had been the same.

“Let me show you around,” she said. “We need to figure out the bedrooms and work out who can sleep where.”