‘Haven’t you finished baking my biscuits yet?’ he asked the children. ‘This lovely smell wafting through the school is making my belly rumble.’

‘They’re not for you!’ the group bellowed, and not for the first time. ‘These are all for us!’

They seemed to take great relish in seeing his face drop, especially when he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.

‘And what’s the state of that classroom floor like this afternoon?’ he asked Mrs Newton. ‘I hope you haven’t let Hattie loose with the glitter tub again.’

There had been an unfortunate incident with the highly coveted tub of gold glitter the day before, but personally I thought the carpet looked a little more festive with a sparkly dusting.

‘It’s immaculate,’ said Mrs Newton.

‘Well, almost,’ I laughed.

‘There’s a delivery for you in the staffroom, Hattie,’ Beamish then told me.

‘A delivery?’

‘Yep, and given the size of it, I think I’d better run you and Dolly home in the truck tonight.’

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘right.’

I had no idea what it could be. I hadn’t ordered anything online and even if I had I would have arranged for delivery to Dolly’s, not the school.

‘I’m intrigued now,’ I frowned.

‘I thought you might be,’ Beamish grinned. ‘By the way, you are still all set for tonight, aren’t you?’

‘Tonight?’

‘Late-night shopping,’ he reminded me. ‘First of the month and we promised Dolly we’d drive round and see the lights, remember?’

‘Of course,’ I fibbed, only now remembering those two particular things she had added to the Wish List.

In my tired-out state, all I had earmarked for the evening was a long hot soak and an early night in preparation for the school fair the next afternoon, but as ever, Dolly and Beamish had other ideas. At least I could tick the Christmas lights tour off the Wish List and looking at the tray of cooling biscuits lined up on the table, I could probably strike out festive baking too. I wasn’t sure if Dolly realised it but so far, her plan to make me fall back in love with Christmas had felt like jolly hard work.

*

The mystery delivery turned out to be a huge bouquet of stunning winter flowers. A hand-tied mass of cream-coloured chrysanthemums, deep red roses and an excess of greenery interspersed with little woven willow stars which had been sprayed gold.

‘My goodness,’ gasped Rose as she came into the staffroom after releasing her class at the end of the day. ‘What have you done to deserve those, Hattie?’