I waited upstairs until I heard Dolly come in and made sure Beamish was gone before I went back down.

‘How was your bath?’ she asked. ‘You certainly look better.’

‘I feel it,’ I yawned, stretching my hands above my head. ‘And Jonathan called.’

‘While you were in the bath?’

‘Yes.’

‘Whatever next,’ she tutted.

I didn’t tell her we’d Skyped.

‘How was church?’ I asked, moving a few things on the table so I could set it.

‘Lovely,’ Dolly smiled. ‘There were—’

‘Dolly,’ I cut in.

‘What?’

‘Where are the cards?’

‘The cards?’

‘The Christmas cards,’ I all but shouted. ‘Where are they?’

‘In the postbox,’ she said, not catching on. ‘Beamish stuck the stamps on while I was getting ready and we posted them on the way.’

‘All of them?’

Her eyes darted from mine back to the table as she realised what had happened.

‘Oh, my dear girl,’ she tutted. ‘I’m so sorry, but it’s gone.’

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

To say I was distraught didn’t come close to expressing the emotions coursing through my veins. Not only had the envelope containing the jolly robin card entered the postal system, but the letter inside it had gone too. If this was Dolly’s idea of helping me ignite my seasonal spirit and make some happy memories, then she was failing dismally. The only thing alight was my temper.

‘Well I can’t just leave it,’ I wailed. ‘That letter . . . I would never have sent that. The card perhaps, but not the letter.’

‘I’ll call Beamish,’ said Dolly, realising I was no more capable of accepting the situation than I was able to fly to the moon.

I didn’t see what good it would do, but I let her go ahead.

‘Can you come back?’ I heard her asking him as I circled the table, alternately checking the envelope hadn’t slipped underneath and tearing at my nails. ‘There might have been a mix-up with my Christmas cards.’

‘What did he say?’ I demanded, the moment she ended the call.

‘That he’s on his way, but he doesn’t think there could have been a mix-up because he posted the lot.’

‘Oh my god,’ I wailed again, stuffing my hands in my pockets. At this rate I wouldn’t have any nails left.

Jonathan was going to go berserk and I could hardly blame him. Why had I listened to Dolly? He had accused her of meddling before and I had defended her, but I couldn’t now, could I? I tried to console myself with the thought that perhaps my parents would put the card and the emotion-laden letter in the bin unopened, but knew I was in for a tense few days waiting to find out.

‘Where’s the fire?’ Beamish beamed, bursting in. ‘I didn’t even have time to get my coat off.’

I looked at him and narrowed my eyes.