I hadn’t just tackled the hall—Charl and some of the staff had helped me decorate the reception area, the corridor, the bathroom, anywhere we could get access to. I’d even helped some of the residents put up bits in their rooms. The whole atmosphere felt so different—like something special really was in the air. The only thing I hadn’t found was someone to put on the Father Christmas costume to give out the presents. They were only little dollar things I’d picked up from the shop in town earlier, but I’d wrapped them all and, hey, a present is a present. I looked around the room, everyone chatting and taking in their new-look home. This wasn’t how I imagined spending today. I was meant to have gone to my first parade and worked my way through anything else I’d missed—but I already knew this was way better.

I couldn’t wait to see Dottie’s face. Or Nick’s.

I’d thought long and hard and figured this was the best possible apology I could think of for Nick. Showing him I finally understood what he’d been saying—and giving him the best Christmas by giving his gran one.

“SHHHHHHH.”

Charl was peeping out of the curtain, her finger to her lips.

“They’re coming!”

Was this sick feeling adrenaline—or terror? Nick and I hadn’t spoken since the car park yesterday. He had no idea what I’d been up to all last night, or that after about ten minutes’ sleep, I’d spent today rushing about on a total mission. And he had no idea how much my plans had changed either. I hurried over to the big double door, flattened myself against the wall—which was quite hard in a full, 3D pumpkin costume. Not exactly festive, but it was the only one available two days before Christmas.

I flicked the main lights off, leaving the hundreds of lights I’d strung up twinkling away.

An oooooooooooooohhhhhhh rolled up from the room, even some claps.

My heart was thudding so hard, I couldn’t tell what was circulation and what was the sound of Nick’s footsteps.

I heard him chatting to Dottie about their trip before he stopped to read out the sign.

“One second, Grams… Have you seen this? ‘Could all residents come to the breakout area for a mandatory…Christmas Sip and Share, four p.m. December twenty-third’? That’s today? Now?!”

He sounded confused—excellent.

I really hoped this worked. If it didn’t—well, it would be the most awkward taking down of decorations ever. Crying while dressed as a pumpkin would be a new level of tragic.

But they were heading in!