‘Of course, it’s all right,’ she said, opening the courtyard gate and letting the dogs rush over to greet me. ‘The more the merrier. We’re expecting quite a crowd, but we won’t be starting for a while. Would you like to come in for a coffee?’

I wasn’t sure what to do. For all I knew Beamish could be ensconced inside and it would be impossible to talk to him in a room full of people.

‘Or you could take a turn around the Wonderland?’ She suggested, reaching into the pocket of her skirt for something. ‘Some of it has been packed away and I’m afraid Santa has vacated the grotto, but the reindeer are in their paddock and the trail is still set up.’

She unfolded what I could now see was a map.

‘You’re more than welcome to explore.’

‘Oh yes please,’ I said, taking the map from her and turning it what I thought was the right way up. I was pleased I’d decided to wear the borrowed welly boots now. ‘I’ll do that. I was sorry not to get the chance to come when it was all in full swing.’

‘Maybe next year,’ she smiled.

I didn’t contradict her. Perhaps news of my changed plans had already reached the Wynbridge countryside.

‘I’ll tell Anna you’re here. But don’t get cold,’ she added, pulling her shawl tighter around her. ‘If you start to get chilly make your way back here to thaw out.’

‘All right,’ I said. ‘Thank you, Mrs Connelly.’

‘Catherine,’ she said, clicking her fingers at the dogs. ‘Please call me Catherine.’

I made my way to the front of the beautiful hall, thinking of the tour Beamish had arranged and the delicious tea. I could see from the map and a few scuffed patches on the gravel that this was where the refreshments had been set up, most noticeably the Cherry Tree Café mobile tea room. I wondered if the prettily painted vintage caravan on the map was an accurate representation. Knowing Jemma’s sense of style, it most likely was.

Keen to get out of the wind, I hastily followed the arrows and the striped candy cane markers to where the path properly began. It was quiet among the trees, and truth be told, a little eerie, but I pressed on, admiring the listed features. My pace slackened as I heard voices ahead. Was I about to come face to face with Beamish? Part of me wished I was, if only to get the initial awkwardness over with.

‘Aha,’ said a woman as I turned a corner and stepped into a clearing.

My heart sank. There was no sign of Beamish.

‘Could you possibly spare a moment to give us a hand?’