FOREST MILLS DEVELOPMENTS

COLD HILL PARK, 2, 3, 4 & 5 BEDROOM HOUSES AND APARTMENTS.

SALES AND MARKETING OPEN 7 DAYS, 9 A.M.–5 P.M.

CONTACT RICHWARDS ESTATE AGENTS.

PHASE 1 COMPLETING SHORTLY.

They drove in, and ahead was a sapling-lined traffic island with a KEEP LEFT sign, dividing the incoming traffic from the exiting via a short dual carriageway, and which ended fifty yards on in a plethora of road signs: PARKVIEW WAY; COLD HILL CLOSE; THE AVENUE. Lakeview Drive was the first left.

The brand-new road, with brick pavements and Victorian-style street lights, curved to the left past several partially completed detached houses with steel Heras fencing securing them, and no sign of anyone working on them. As the road curved right, the houses were finished, each with sale boards and details fixed close to their front doors.

‘Sort of weird being almost the first here,’ Emily said.

‘I rather like it,’ Jason replied. ‘Very atmospheric. I’m looking at all these houses, wondering what kind of lives the people who buy them will have.’ He changed into a strange, Mitteleuropean accent. ‘Zer might be veirdos; swingers; serial killers; it might be so dangerous to go out we vill have to lock all ze doors and stay inside vor effer!’

‘Yep, and they’ll be pointing at our house and saying, “Zat ist vere zer real veirdos lif!”’

He shook his head. ‘Not after they see our neighbours’ Christmas decorations, they won’t. Then they’ll know vere zer true veirdos lif.’

15

Saturday 15 December

‘They’re coming!’ Jason said, standing out of sight, peering through the window. ‘And, oh shit, they’re bringing us a present – we don’t have anything for them.’

‘We can get them something, darling – it’s still a week to Christmas.’

‘Perhaps a nice garden gnome.’

‘Lovely. Then we’d have to look at the sodding thing all year round.’

‘Yep, bad idea, strike that one.’

In between visitors, they had spent most of the afternoon decorating the tree they’d bought, and getting it to stand straight, as well as putting out their cards – most of which had arrived with postal redirects on the envelopes – and generally making the living room look Christmassy.

The packing cases had gone, and the room looked tidier, the white sofas now with magenta cushions. They had set bowls of olives, nuts, vegetable crisps and mince pies they’d bought in the garden centre on the glass-topped teak coffee table, and placed bowls of Christmas-spiced pot pourri around the room. Flames were dancing in the grate. The room did actually feel really Christmassy, Jason thought.

They stood together at the front door.

‘Hello!’ said Claudette Penze-Weedell, looking, as before, like she was on the first leg of an expedition to the Arctic.

‘Happy Christmas!’ her husband said, making it sound like an apology, thrusting a wrapped bottle at Jason, while his wife handed a pot plant in wrapping paper to Emily.

A few minutes later, with their neighbours seated on one sofa and Emily on the other, Jason came in with a bottle of Pol Roger. ‘Champagne?’ he asked.