‘Mr Figg the chemist? He is even older than Jago! And recently sometimes thinks he is a rodeo rider called Memphis.’

‘OK, well … I could get Marcus to come down and do it?’ Alex offered the services of her one-time unrequited crush, and old friend. ‘He’d love it. And he could bring Milly and spend Christmas, Dad and Eleanor are coming – that’s when I’m going to announce my big news. And Marcus would make a very jolly ginger Santa.’

‘Dear Alex.’ Sue patted Alex’s knee. ‘You know that I have met Marcus, more than once. I will never forget the time he lifted the Bishop aloft for a laugh at Tamsyn’s wedding and then dropped him. And neither will the Bishop. No, he’s a health and safely nightmare.’

‘Or elf and safety, geddit?’ Alex grinned, but Sue did not respond.

‘No, I need to think laterally,’ she said. ‘This is Poldore, we’ve got actors, writers and musicians coming out of our ears. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we didn’t have actual Santa living here, during the summer season.’

‘Good point’ Alex said, dragging Skipper away from Sue, as he was threatening to gnaw on her fiery curls. She threw a chew toy for him towards the harbour wall. ‘What about your movie director friend, the one who always sorts the snow for our pageant?’

‘He’s not here this year, he’s making a film. So inconsiderate, although he has sent snow and a team of special effects experts from Elstree in his stead … I know!’ Sue jumped up. ‘Blake Fletcher!’

‘Blake Fletcher?’ Alex smirked.

‘Yes, he’s in town for the season!’

‘I’m not being funny, Sue, but he just won an Oscar for his last film, I’m pretty sure he’s not available for Santa.’

‘No, I know. But he will get the buzz going, won’t he? If I can persuade him to audition prospective Santas with me, then people will come just to see him. I can send out an email tonight to the parish council – they’ll spread the word. We can start auditioning tomorrow. I’m sure that Jed will squeeze us into the church hall, and it will all be sorted. Excellent.’

‘But, Sue,’ Alex said, ‘you haven’t even asked him yet. What if he says no?’

‘Oh, darling—’ Sue sprang up feeling purposeful and invigorated once again ‘—that is just a technicality. You know, the last person to say no to a Montaigne was—’

‘Beheaded.’ Alex said. ‘Well, OK, I wish you luck.’

‘Right, well, then I’d better get up there, as soon as possible. Can’t stop.’

‘Sue?’ Alex called after her. ‘You didn’t ask me what my big news was!’

‘Oh, didn’t I?’ Sue waved a hand over her shoulder. ‘Text me.’

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