A few minutes later, they arrived in Great Hill Road to make their last deliveries and Laurel gave an involuntary ‘Ow!’ and clutched her hands over her eyes. Every house was festooned with lights – white, red, blue and green, they were twinkling, flashing, flickering around trees or dripping from gutters. Illuminated snowmen posed on lawns and floodlit Santas drove sleighs across roofs.

Daisy gurgled with laughter. ‘They’ve entered the Christmas Street competition. The street that wins gets a Christmas party and chooses a charity to receive a donation. Really, though, they want to get on the telly and in the papers.’

‘I wish I’d worn sunglasses,’ Laurel grumbled. Then a nearby Art December window caught her eye. ‘Oh, look at that lovely hat and gloves. Do I just ring the doorbell if I want to buy them?’

‘Or get the phone number from the Google map,’ suggested Daisy, not just phone-orientated but keen to demonstrate the functionality of her map. But the householder must have heard their voices because she flung open her front door and stood framed in illuminated icicles. Her gaze lit on Laurel. She beamed. ‘I knew your mum quite well, duck. You’re working in her old studio, aren’t you? My, she would have been proud. She was lovely with her painting.’

Laurel felt tears prickle at the unexpectedness of this village connection. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, conscious of a warm, floaty sensation to know Isla was still remembered fondly. She didn’t bother asking how the woman knew about the studio. News spread on the Middledip breeze. They chatted about Isla buying The Nookery and having the studio built, Laurel bought the hat and gloves and Daisy somehow managed to sell the woman a Christmas wreath to be delivered on Sunday. Eventually, teeth chattering in the Narnia-like freeze, they said their goodbyes.

As they turned towards home, Daisy’s phone rang. She answered with, ‘Hey,’ and a series of, ‘Yep. Yep. Yep,’ then finished with, ‘OK, cool, I’ll ask her.’ She turned to Laurel. ‘Can I hang out at Zuzanna’s in Port Road for a bit? Niall’s going, too.’

‘I don’t mind.’ Laurel checked the time. ‘I’ll have to pick you up at ten so you’ll only have about an hour, though.’ She supposed an hour with your mates was always worth walking across the village for. ‘Just call and check with your mum first.’

‘Yeah, yeah, school night.’ Daisy nodded resignedly. She made the call and secured Rea’s permission as they strode towards Zuzanna’s house, passing Mistletoe Cottage again, definitely not living up to its Christmassy name. With the Art December windows and early Christmas trees appearing in windows or on lawns, the rest of the village was leaving it behind.

As they approached Zuzanna’s house, though, Daisy slowed her footsteps. ‘Laurel, a thing happened today,’ she said.