‘You don’t get lonely?’ I asked.
Emma laughed. ‘I’ve got four very loud sisters, a dozen nieces and nephews, an interfering mother right down the road, and I run my own hectic business, which includes regular meetings and calls with some particularly monstrous brides. Having my own space where everything’s quiet and organised, and just how I like it – that’s my idea of bliss.’
‘I’ve never lived on my own until this year. Honestly, not much in my cottage is organised, or how I like it. It’s a lot less quiet these days, too.’
‘I don’t suppose now’s the time to be thinking about sorting your house out,’ Emma said. ‘But the day will come.’
‘In about eighteen years?’
‘I think nurseries accept children a bit younger than that. In the meantime, how about we do a walk?’
We arranged for her to come over and show me one of her favourite forest routes, and I sat back with a second drink, absorbing the fact that I’d potentially made another new friend.
My hand itched to message Beckett and tell him where I was and how well I was doing, but even if I was going to be rude enough to get my phone out in the middle of my own party, that would have been way too overfamiliar.
I chatted to a few more people, someone brought me a plate of delicate sandwiches and a mini scone, then Cheris and Carolyn homed in on me from both sides like lions hunting the weakest antelope in the herd. They were both wearing red pinafores embroidered with mistletoe over green polo necks, with sprigs of holly pinned to their chests.
‘Congrats on the baby, Mary,’ Cheris said. ‘He’s gorgeous.’
‘Is he a crier?’ Carolyn asked.
‘Um, he does cry, yes. Being a baby.’
‘Yes, but does he cry a lot?’ Cheris squinted at him, currently being cuddled by Patty over by a window. ‘Can he be trusted not to cry, if he’s fed and changed and what have you?’
‘I have no idea what a lot is,’ I confessed. ‘I don’t have any other babies to compare him to. Sometimes he does cry for seemingly no reason, but I’m sure there is one, I just haven’t figured it out.’
The Christmas Day Twins looked at each other. ‘He is still very small,’ Carolyn said. ‘We’ve got twenty-two days until the concert. Babies can change a lot in that time.’
‘Yes, but is that a good or a bad thing?’ Cheris replied. ‘Will he get better or worse by then?’
‘Excuse me, but can I ask where this is heading?’ I asked, although having seen the NLCCCCC cast list, I had a good idea. ‘Because there’s no way Bob is going to play Baby Yoda Santa. He won’t even be able to hold up his own head by Christmas.’
They turned back to me, eyes glinting.
‘Don’t be a sausage, my dad’s going to play Baby Yoda Santa. He was born for the role!’ Cheris chortled. ‘However, if you’re familiar with the nativity story, you may remember that another baby usually features quite prominently.’
‘You want Bob to be Jesus?’
‘That would be Crimbo-tastic! Thank you so much.’
‘We promise to take care of him. He’ll have a lovely time.’
‘No misplacing him right before the dress rehearsal, like last year.’
‘Last year Jesus was played by a doll,’ Sofia said, returning to her position on the chair arm with a plate of food. ‘No one is leaving a human baby in a cardboard box under the stage.’
‘Um. Okay, then, I suppose. Maybe have a stand-in doll in case he does start crying? And I’d like to see the script before I confirm.’
I didn’t trust these women not to strap him onto the donkey or launch him into the audience from a cannon.
I did have a few questions about the costumes, but they refused to answer while ‘civilians’ were in earshot, and at that point Li called everyone together so I could open the presents.
I couldn’t think of anything more awkward than opening gifts from people I’d never met before, but thankfully they must have found the idea of giving someone they’d never met a present just as bad, as most people had clubbed together to give me a voucher, and the actual presents were from Patty, Yara and the coffee mums, which I could handle.
They gave me a gorgeous baby blanket, embroidered with ‘Bob’, which I decided probably sealed the deal with sticking to that name, some tiny clothes that were originally meant to be for Mitch, only he’d been too chonky to fit into them, and some very expensive toiletries with which to pamper myself.
Best of all, Sofia handed me a sign-up sheet with names and meals on.
