‘Rubbish,’ Cynthia replied, barging past her and stepping into the house. She immediately began removing her coat. ‘We knew today was going to be difficult for you so we decided a nice trip out with two of your favourite people would be just the ticket.’

‘But I can’t. I’m volunteering at Bluebell Park today.’

Bluebell Park sat on the edge of the village, past the tiny lanes of picturesque, thatched-roof cottages and beyond the outer ring of enormous posh houses suggestive of somewhere Lizzy Bennet would have lived with her brood of sisters. It was a beautiful woodland park complete with a playground and a central area with little wooden huts reminiscent of European Christmas markets. It was run by volunteers, of which Bella was one, and they co-ordinated the hiring of the little huts by various local business. Every weekend, those who visited could buy fresh fruit and vegetables from local farms or other local goodies. At this time of year, one of the huts was always booked out by Annie’s Tearoom from the village, providing hot chocolates and snacks, and the others by friends and neighbours who ran crafty sidelines in crochet or jam making.

They were also in the process of erecting a new chalet that would be decorated as Santa’s grotto. Every year, old Mr Tomlin with his home-grown bushy white beard donned tiny glasses and a Santa suit, thrilling the children in his role as Father Christmas. Before Bluebell Park had opened, they’d set him up on the village green in a makeshift tent but there never seemed to be enough room with the village Christmas tree and the local church’s nativity scene. It also stopped children being able to actually play on it. Even the grumpy ducks objected to the idea and the illusion of a magical, snow-laden workshop was somewhat ruined when they toddled in nibbling the wrapping paper off the fake presents or attacking Mr Tomlin’s legs. Moving it to Bluebell Park had been Bella’s idea and one everyone was in favour of.

‘Don’t worry, your dad said he’d cover you there,’ her mum said, waving away her concerns.

‘Dad?’ Bella was now wide awake.

‘Yes. Don’t look so surprised. He is capable you know. He quite fancies working with Adam to put up the grotto. He said he doesn’t know why you haven’t asked him to help already. Between you and me, I think he was a tiny bit insulted.’

‘I didn’t ask because the last time Dad hammered anything, he missed the nail completely and took his fingernail off. Plus, he swore copiously in front of some of my pupils.’