‘Excuse me,’ Joyce said. ‘I’ve never hooked a stitch in my life. I’m only here to save my sanity, because that husband of mine is driving me mad. Talk about under my feet. Every. God damned. Second.’ She sighed, wistful. ‘I was so looking forward to his retirement. All I can say is, be careful what you wish for.’
In all my preparations for that evening, the one thing I hadn’t accounted for was reluctant participants. My gaze went from one to the other.
‘If there’s anyone who can feel your pain it’s me.’ The newcomer sat down. ‘There’s this guy at my office.’ She scowled. ‘Callum. He’s always hovering as well. If you ask me, he’s after my job.’
In that moment, if Callum had wanted it, I’d have readily given him mine.
‘What is it you do?’ Joyce asked.
‘Real estate. And unlike Callum who couldn’t sell water in a desert, I’m good at it.’ The woman glanced around. ‘Speaking of deserts, is it me or is it hot in here?’ She turned her attention back to Joyce. ‘If someone had told me this morning I’d be stumbling into a crochet club, I wouldn’t have believed them. I only popped in to get out of the rain.’
With the newcomer apparently staying, I handed each of them a crochet needle and ball of wool.
‘I was on my way to visit Mum. You might know her. Maeve Gordon. She lives at the top of the hill.’
Clearly delighted, Joyce threw herself back in her seat. ‘Of course, I know Maeve. Lovely woman.’
Ready to commence, I coughed, trying to get their attention.
Joyce cocked her head. ‘Don’t tell me you’re little Erin?’
The newcomer grinned. ‘It’s a long time since anyone’s called me that.’
‘I thought you’d gone off to London.’
‘Goodness, that was a lifetime ago. I’m over in Leeds now. Have been for years.’
Joyce came over all serious. ‘I was sorry to hear about your dad.’
‘Ladies, please!’ I said.
Shocked into silence, the two of them stared at me.
Erin shifted in her seat. ‘I suppose I could give this crochet thing a go while I’m here.’ Her eyes lit up. ‘I know. Why don’t we start with a team-building exercise?’ She picked up her yarn. ‘Pretend this is a ball and whoever I throw it to has to tell us about themselves.’
Taking it from her, I recoiled at the thought. One of the reasons I loved working for myself was the fact that I didn’t have to take part in compliment circles or tangle myself into a human knot. ‘Maybe we should learn about each other as we go?’
‘You sound like you need a drink,’ Erin said.
Considering I felt like I was herding cats, she wasn’t wrong.
‘I know,’ Joyce said. ‘Why don’t we head over to the pub instead?’
‘Great idea,’ Erin said. ‘And look.’ She pointed to the shop window. ‘It’s even stopped raining.’ Wrinkling her nose, she turned to me. ‘You have to admit, that sounds a lot more fun than crocheting.’
CHAPTER1
PRESENT DAY – DECEMBER
‘Jingle bells, jingle bells…’ Wearing a smile and a red woollen bobble hat, I pulled off my mittens and stuffed them into my duffel coat pockets. ‘Jingle all the way…’ Singing along to the store’s festive soundtrack, I weaved through the Christmas throng, swinging my basket back and forth as I went. ‘Oh, what fun it is to ride…’ I met the stream of strange looks from fellow shoppers with one grin after another. Anyone would have thought I didn’t know I looked a treat and was tone deaf. But one, it was zero degrees outside and wrapping up warm was better than freeze drying. And two, what I lacked in vocal ability I more than made up for in enthusiasm.
I fell silent mid-lyric and coming to an abrupt halt, my eyes widened at a table in front of me. Stacked high with board games, I marvelled at the sight. Monopoly, Cluedo, Trivial Pursuit… all the classics were there. My pulse quickened. If one of those delights didn’t ignite Gideon’s Christmas spirit, then nothing would.
Stepping towards them, I placed my basket down on the ground and scanned the boxes. Thinking back to Christmases past, childhood festivities wouldn’t have been the same without a few tabletop shenanigans. Year after year, Gran and I spent hours creating hotel empires or vying for the ultimate Connect 4 crown – a five-pointed cardboard and tinsel affair I’d made way back when at primary school. I pictured the diadem’s tattered and torn state, and wondered how it had continued to survive, and if it would withstand another outing.
I felt a tug on my heart. Gran was the only family I’d ever known, and I’d have swapped that crown for one more Christmas with her any day.
I wondered what Gran would have made of Gideon. Knowing her, she’d have considered him boring. Gran liked big personalities; people who weren’t afraid to make a fool of themselves or say what was on their minds. Gideon, on the other hand, was reserved and often kept his thoughts to himself. He was staid and reliable. I sighed. Until recently.
