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Brooke was desperate to end the call. “Same. But we’ll see you soon. Love you, Mom. I’d better go. I have to keep an eye on the children.”

“We love you, too. Be safe. Kiss the girls from us.”

Brooke ended the call and closed her eyes. Her chest ached with guilt. She pictured her mother looking at her father in despair. She was probably crying.

“Brooke?” Matt’s voice came up the stairs. “Are you coming? I need you to watch the girls while Jason and I try and rescue what we can from the cars.”

“I’m coming!” Brooke sniffed, ran her hand over her face and practised a smile.

It was something of a surprise to discover she could still produce one.

She didn’t love the idea of Matt going out into that storm yet again, but the girls only had the clothes they were wearing and also, there was no point in wasting the food she’d brought with them. With seven of them, they were going to need it.

She headed back downstairs, listening to the wind rattling the windows. She could see that the snow was falling as thickly as ever, blurring the forest and the landscape that surrounded them. She tried not to think of her parents, the sweaters her mother had knitted and the presents they’d stacked under the tree.

Christmas was all ready and waiting for her at her parents’ house, but she wasn’t at her parents’ house. The Christmas she’d planned wasn’t going to happen, which meant she had to try to conjure some sort of Christmas from whatever was in this house and Matt managed to salvage from the car.

And somehow, she had to do it all with a smile.

16

Mabel

The trip to the cars to retrieve food and cases was planned like a major expedition to the Arctic. Mabel half expected to see sled dogs.

Feeling helpless, she retrieved Walter’s thick coat, which had barely had time to dry since its last trip through the snow.

She handed it to Matt, who was in the hallway with Jason, agreeing to a plan of action.

“We’re going to bring the stuff from Matt and Brooke’s car first.” Jason grabbed his own coat. “They have food, and also clothes for the kids. That has to be a priority. It sounds as if it’s going to be more than one journey.”

“Is Daddy going to die?” Elsie hovered on one leg while Poppy twirled next to her, apparently oblivious to the drama going on around her.

“Daddy is not going to die,” Brooke said. “No one is going to die. Granny sends her love to you.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“Yes, just now.”

“Is she sad that we’re not coming for Christmas?”

“Yes, but hopefully we’ll see her soon.”

Mabel felt a pang of sympathy for Brooke’s mother, who had been looking forward to seeing her daughter. Then she saw the strain on Brooke’s face. Whatever had been said, the conversation had clearly left her exhausted. Or maybe the combination of the accident and the change of plans was getting to her.

“Take your sister back into the kitchen so you both keep warm,” Brooke said to Elsie. “Sit at the table and don’t touch anything.”

“Can I touch Not-A-Cat?”

“Yes. But nothing else. And only if he likes it.”

“He likes it. He likes me.”

That was true, Mabel thought. Crumpet did like Elsie, and no one was more surprised than she was.

In the end, it took three journeys to unload the cars, dumping suitcases, boxes and various random items in Mabel’s hallway, along with an avalanche of snow that swirled into dark corners and melted in small pools. Each time the front door was opened, more snow flew inside, sending the cats racing into the kitchen for warmth and shelter. Mabel did the same and tried not to think about the volume of belongings piling up in her hallway. How had they managed to fit so much into a car along with two children? Had they been driving a bus?

Brooke staggered into the room carrying a huge box. She put it down on the table with a sigh of relief and rolled her shoulders.