They parked on Nory’s parents’ drive and followed the bustle of heads clad in hats, pulled like magnets toward the noise on the small village green. A brass band was playing Christmas carols, and the Hartmead gospel choir was doing its best to make its voices heard above them. The snow was still coming down, and Nory was glad that most of the wedding guests had traveled down early and booked into the Robinwood Hotel and the surrounding pubs; the roads tended to snarl up pretty quickly when the snows came.

The towering fir tree came into view before the green did. Nory looked about her as they drew near and spotted Jackson and Lucas waving wildly at her from the queue for hot chocolate that snaked out of Castle Coffee.

“Aunty Nory, Aunty Nory!” they called desperately, caught between wanting to run and greet her and not losing their spot in line.

The three of them made their way over, Nory leading the way. The boys hugged her and began speaking animatedly over each other in a rush, seemingly without gaps for breath, about what they had been doing at school and what they’d asked Father Christmas for, and a host of other things which made absolutely no sense amid the jumble of noise.

“Boys, calm down, give Aunty Nory a chance,” said Thomas. He looked at Nory and said, “Nice that you found time to come down, sis.”

Nory could never tell with Thomas whether his sentiments were friendly or barbed, but in this instance, he was smiling, so she returned his smile and hoped they could remain friends at least for this evening. Ameerah stepped forward, and the boys seemed to notice her for the first time.

“Amie!” they called in unison, and Ameerah was treated to the same jumping-hugging-shouting that Nory had been moments before.

Dev, smiling, reached across and held out his hand for Thomas to shake.

“Dev,” said Dev.

“Thomas,” said Thomas.

Nory rolled her eyes. Why were men always so minimal in their greetings to one another?

“Boys, this is my friend Dev,” said Ameerah.

Dev smiled and bent down to shake each of their hands in turn.

“Are you a prince?” asked Lucas. “You look like a prince.”

Dev laughed. “Far from it, I’m afraid,” he replied.

“I think if you did fancy dress you could go as a prince,” said Lucas, looking him up and down seriously.

“I’ll bear it in mind for my next fancy-dress party,” Dev replied with equal gravity.

“Can I get you guys anything while I’m in there?” asked Thomas as they neared the door to Castle Coffee. “Save you queuing up. The Mead and Medlar and White Hart are doing takeaways if you fancy something stronger.”

Nory, Ameerah, and Dev all requested a hot chocolate.

“Here, let me get these,” said Dev, reaching into his pocket.

“My treat,” said Thomas tightly.