‘Another one,’ she smiled.

‘Can I open it now?’ I asked.

‘No,’ she said, ‘it’s for tomorrow. It’s my contribution,’ she explained, picking the parcel up as I unlocked the door, ‘to ensuring that this Friday the thirteenth is memorable for far happier reasons than the last.’

‘What happened on the last?’ asked Beamish.

‘The poor girl was made redundant from her job,’ said Dolly.

‘But don’t forget,’ I reminded her, ‘that it was also the day I decided that I was going to move to Abu Dhabi.’

That wasn’t strictly true, but the opportunity had presented itself then.

‘Crikey,’ laughed Beamish. ‘That was fast work. You certainly didn’t let the grass grow, did you?’

‘No,’ I frowned, ‘I don’t suppose I did.’

‘I’m guessing it was something you’d been thinking about before you were made redundant?’

‘Well actually,’ I began, thinking I wouldn’t get a better moment to explain.

‘Never mind that now,’ Dolly cut in, ushering me over the threshold. ‘Get the kettle on, will you? I don’t think we need worry about supper, but I could do with another hot drink.’

*

I had gone to bed that night feeling surprisingly excited about the next day. As well as the school Christmas dinner there was also the party in the afternoon. The children’s excitement would be at fever pitch and I braced myself to deal with sweaty faces racing around the hall, the odd clash of heads and the prospect of at least one of them throwing up. What I hadn’t been expecting were the contents of the present from Dolly.

‘I admit,’ she said, chewing her lip to stop herself from laughing, ‘that it is a little unfortunate, but you have to wear it, Hattie. It’s Christmas jumper day.’

‘But I can’t, Dolly,’ I told her. ‘As lovely as the gesture is, I can’t possibly wear this. It’s obscene and the fact that it lights up makes it all the worse.’

Dolly started to laugh and I wandered over to look in the mirror again. The jumper was covered with festive motifs and was very jolly, apart from the unfortunate, but most likely intentional, positioning of two Christmas puddings complete with flashing holly berries.

‘The kids won’t even notice,’ she said stoically.

‘It’s not the kids I’m worried about,’ I said, imagining the laughs Beamish was going to get out of the situation. ‘And you say they won’t notice, but I bet some of the older ones will.’

‘Perhaps if you put a cardigan over the top,’ she suggested, proudly smoothing down her own jumper.

Hers featured a very tasteful Santa and also lit up, but nowhere where it shouldn’t.

‘If I wear anything over this, I’ll absolutely bake. That hall will be stifling this afternoon.’