More cheers abounded, echoing in the cold, still afternoon air as Mr Tomlin nodded. She pulled out the scissors she’d brought with her and handed them to him. Mr Tomlin with his real big bushy white beard and fake glasses beamed around and after starting them off counting down from ten, the crowd joined in until they got to zero and the cut ribbon fluttered to the ground. At the same time, Mr Whittaker – who had retreated to the information point and was in charge of the giant generator housing the switch for the lights – flicked it on and every light around the grotto spluttered into life. The community choir started singing and everyone gazed open-mouthed at the festivity surrounding them. Christmas had finally arrived at Meadowbank.

The crowd applauded and milled around the chalets, enjoying the fresh air and beautiful choral music that added to the wonderful festive atmosphere. Bella went to put the loudspeaker away before one of the children found it. She’d learned from experience, after someone had stolen her whistle at school, that these things never end well. She might even treat herself to one of Mrs Bumble’s gorgeous, homemade mulled wines to help ward off the chill. The spicy red wine aroma was too tempting to resist, even if it was only four o’clock in the afternoon.

Evan hated her drinking in the day, she realised with a pang. She’d never understood it. It wasn’t like she boozed all the time, but sometimes, like now, or in the summer when it was a gorgeous hot day and you’d finished all the housework, there was nothing better than a cold glass of wine in the afternoon sun. It wasn’t like she was constantly drinking tequila for breakfast or anything like that. At least he wasn’t here to tell her not to, or tut and huff until she gave in and abstained. He always had been a bit of a killjoy.

‘Well, that went very well, darling. Well done,’ said her mum as she came and joined them. ‘And don’t worry about Mrs Tyldesley. She’s always been that type of woman.’

‘What type of woman?’ asked Luke, Caro’s husband.

‘A pernickety one.’

‘It’s a valid question,’ Bella conceded.

‘But she didn’t have to go shouting it out in front of everyone. She should have shown a little more decorum.’

Caro giggled. ‘This coming from the woman who last Christmas wrestled the karaoke mic off Dad and proceeded to sing the whole of ‘Show Me Heaven’ complete with Eighties air grabs?’

Cynthia pulled the collar of her coat up. ‘Dean said I was very good.’

‘It was nice of Nick to save you.’

‘It was, wasn’t it?’ Bella replied. ‘He deflected her really well.’ She didn’t quite know why he’d done it, but she appreciated the gesture and the smile he shot her afterwards.