‘No one buys pumpkins once Halloween is over. From mid-November, I use the stall only to sell my mum’s baked goods and a crate or two of culinary pumpkins and a bit of winter veg. You’re far too late to get a stall of your own now, they’re in high demand and the last space for rent had sold out by March, so you and your trees can take the space of the pumpkins until after Christmas. I’ve got a good spot and I don’t need it all. Why shouldn’t we share it?’

‘Why?’ I say, so surprised by such a kind gesture that I can’t find the words. ‘Why would you do that? I mean, I’ll pay you whatever the rent is, but I don’t … I didn’t know they were in such demand—’

‘Lee, it’s fine.’ He reaches over and touches my hand where it’s resting on my thigh, and I wish the warmth of his fingers would linger before he quickly pulls them away. ‘And I’m paying the rent anyway because it’s too good a spot to give up, so don’t worry about it.’

‘Why?’

‘Can I tell you something?’ He looks at me and quickly back at the road again. ‘My wish on the mince pie was that Peppermint Branches would be a success. I’ve thought for years that the place would be demolished, and if you’re not going to do that, then I’m going to do everything in my power to help you, because Evergreene was like family to me. It’s what he would’ve wanted, and it’ll be good for Elffield.’

We’re coming up to the first of his pumpkin fields and I can’t take my eyes off them as we pass. They look like someone’s about to sing ‘Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo’ and turn them all into fairytale carriages, and it makes me feel more positive than I have in years. ‘Then you know what? Let’s make this the best Christmas that market has ever seen, even if it’s the last one. Let’s make it a Christmas to remember.’

‘To a Christmas to remember.’

I’m grinning wider than I have for months as we drive towards the sun twinkling in the sky, making the trees in the distance look dark green and perfect.

Chapter 8

‘And you had the nerve to insult my neon flashing pumpkin headband,’ Noel says as I open the door.

‘I’m cleaning.’ I become the epitome of sophistication by poking my tongue out at him as he stands on the doorstep.

‘I see that.’ He reaches over and plucks a dust bunny from my hair, which has started to tumble down from the knot I tied it in.