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Katie peered through the glass at the swirling flakes. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen it snow on Christmas Day in London.’

Arlo hung back behind them. Snow at Christmas was no novelty to him, yet he was taken aback by the size of the flakes.

‘It’s settling!’ Wanda cried.

‘It looks like Narnia out there …’ Jess breathed.

Katie stared into the whirling flakes and pressed her hand to the pane.

‘Katie wants to write about this, I can tell. I shouldn’t be surprised if she sets her next book here,’ Athene commented with quiet amusement.

Swinging round, Katie smiled at Athene and caught Arlo’s eye. ‘You know, I might just do that. This really is a magical place. I couldn’t have made it up if I’d tried.’

‘Mmm. Very seasonal,’ Ned said and returned to the armchair. ‘Well, even if the boat is fixed, it looks like we might all be snowed in.’ He picked up his wine. ‘And wouldn’t that be fun?’

Wanda asked Arlo more about the Christmas tree in the hall and the slightly smaller one in the sitting room and he told her about felling them on Greg’s farm the week before. The base and a good portion of the floor around the sitting-room tree was obscured by gifts in shiny wrapping paper and gift bags.

‘There are far too many presents. I feel guilty,’ Jess said.

Wanda’s lip wobbled. ‘I hope you all like mine. They’re not very exciting.’

‘I had to get mine in a rush so I apologise in advance,’ Ned said.

‘We’ve all been spoiled,’ Athene said, crossing to the tree, glass in hand.

‘Well, I think we deserve a treat,’ Katie declared, joining Athene.

Athene smiled at her. ‘Absolutely. You, especially. And actually, I think we should raise a glass to you for giving us this wonderful present and bringing us all together.’

Ned lifted his wine high. ‘Even if some of us weren’t meant to be here—’

Athene cut him off. ‘To Katie and the Island House!’

Feeling angry with Ned, Arlo raised his whisky higher yet still felt like a fraud. No matter how much Katie had asked him to join them, if Arlo had started that engine, he wouldn’t have been there – unlike Ned. His stomach churned with a mix of regrets and an unfamiliar sense of excitement about Christmas; one that he hadn’t felt as a boy.

In his early childhood, his parents had celebrated Christmas but had stopped pretending Father Christmas was real when he was barely five and Sam had gleefully told him the cheery man in a red suit didn’t exist. At such a young age, he’d been confused and devastated.

His mother had been annoyed with Sam and mildly rebuked him but his father had taken a pragmatic attitude as usual.

‘Well, it can’t be helped and I suppose it saves any awkwardness later,’ he’d said, handing a clean handkerchief to the weeping Arlo. ‘And at least the boy now knows that Christmas gifts are provided by his hardworking parents rather than a mythical figure from the North Pole. For goodness’ sake, Arlo, wipe your nose and cheer up, boy. You’ll still get your presents, whoever delivers them.’

Later, Sam had sniggered and called Arlo a baby.

The irony was that he and Sam had very much perpetuated the illusion of the mythical figure to Sam’s two boys until very recently, and the older one was bribed and threatened not to reveal the truth to the younger.

How times had changed. His brother and sister-in-law lavished gifts on the boys, insisted on having the grandest Christmas tree, and seemed to change the decorating theme every year. Their parents also never seemed to object to the display of rampant commercialism.

Arlo was determined that his own children, in the event he ever had any, would enjoy all the joy and mystique of Christmas traditions, but without the lavish expenditure.

However, he didn’t begrudge Katie all the gifts in the world. Looking at her smiling and laughing with her guests, he hoped she liked his present.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Katie thought she’d been dreaming about church bells until she sat up in bed on Christmas morning and heard the muffled chimes in the distance.

Only a few traces of snow remained in pockets of shade under the pine trees. The sky was a washed-out blue and was hazy with thin clouds but it was still the most perfect scene anyone could ever be greeted by on Christmas Day.

Excitement coursed through her, more powerful than any she’d felt as a child. She was alive, she was healthy, and her dream of gathering her nearest and dearest together had come true. Almost. Her parents and sister were still knee-deep in nappies and bibs and not able to come up, and Ned – well, Ned had never been part of the plan but she wasn’t going let that little problem ruin the day.