Beamish had set up a timer for the lights at Dolly’s cottage and I could see it had worked the second he swung the truck back into her road. I had thought Dolly would want them on the evening before but that night, she told me, was reserved solely for the town. Now however, her little place positively glowed like a festive beacon. Other houses were also decorated but none as brightly as Dolly’s. The old-fashioned red, blue, yellow and green bulbs, which Beamish had hammered in place under the eaves and around the windows looked very jolly indeed and, on the lawn just inside the gate, Santa appeared poised to launch, his reindeer straining to take flight.

‘There now,’ Dolly exclaimed as she leant forward in her seat to get a better look. ‘What a welcome sight to come home to.’

‘It looks great,’ agreed Beamish as he unashamedly admired his handiwork. ‘I hope Mum’s looks this good.’

‘I’m sure it will,’ said Dolly, patting his arm. ‘Do you still think it looks tacky, Hattie?’

‘Tacky!’ gasped Beamish. ‘Is that really what you think?’

I could hardly deny the accusation given the conversation Dolly and I had had just the day before.

‘I admit that yesterday I did think it was going to look a little . . . naff,’ I said, wishing there was a word which would describe my former feelings a little less harshly, ‘but now it’s all lit I think it’s great.’

‘She wanted warm white lights,’ said Dolly, unclipping her seatbelt, ‘and a holly wreath on the door.’

‘You’ve been reading too many glossy magazines featuring country cottage Christmas styling,’ said Beamish.

‘No, she hasn’t,’ said Dolly, ‘she doesn’t go in for Christmas, remember? So, she won’t have seen any of those.’

‘Oh yes, that’s right.’ He went on, ‘You’re not a fan are you, Hattie?’

I really didn’t think it was fair that they should both tease me like that.

‘I used to be.’ I said, jumping out to help Dolly. ‘Perhaps I’ve just forgotten what it’s all about.’

‘In that case,’ she said, taking hold of my hand as she carefully lowered herself on to the road, ‘it’s just as well that I’ve come up with the perfect plan to help you remember.’

*

Later that evening as we sat either side of the fire, Dolly with Tiddles on her lap and me rocking gently in Dolly’s grandmother’s chair, I fell to thinking over my first weekend in Wynbridge and all the feelings and memories the place had already stirred up.