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‘Cupid, stop!’ she yells after him, as though he might recognise her or even know his own name, but honestly, at this point, she’s desperate.

‘He went that way!’ cries one of the cake vendors, who is now covered in whatever they were selling.

‘Thank you!’ she yells.

She turns a corner and finds herself next to the raffle stand, Christopher’s gingerbread house still pristine in its cake box.

A wave of cries speed towards her, and she realises that Cupid is headed straight for the raffle prizes, which are perched on top of a very flimsy-looking table.

‘No!’ she yells as Cupid barrels into a leg, sending all the prizes skyborne.

Including the gingerbread house.

She can’t let it be destroyed. Not after all the hard work Christopher put into it.

But Cupid is so close that maybe she could grab him.

House or reindeer?

Haf runs, leaps and somehow, in the greatest luck of her whole life, she catches the gingerbread house in mid-air and lands, stumbling to her knees. Inside the box, the gingerbread house is completely intact and when she stands to put it somewhere safe, Haf comes face to face with the man from the quiet carriage, who is apparently in charge of the raffle stand.

‘You!’ they shout in unison.

‘I—’ she begins, but he cuts her off with a ‘I don’t want to know!’, waving his hands about wildly. ‘Don’t tell me anything else!’

‘Look after this and keep it safe,’ she says, shoving it into his arms. ‘Did anyone see where the reindeer went?’

Mayor Clarke, who appears to be hiding under the collapsed raffle table, points towards the stage. ‘He went that way!’

Haf races off, following the mayor’s directions. Up ahead, there’s a huge crash and the lights on the Christmas tree flicker, and then start to fall.

He’s runthroughthe Christmas tree.

And apparently, taken the bottom-most layer of lights out with him.

Currently very thankful for that month she did Couch to 5k, Haf pivots and runs right round the tree. On the other side, she finds Esther yelling after Cupid, who is now wrapped in string lights like a feather boa.

‘Put those back!’ Esther yells after him, as though he might suddenly obey her.

‘I’ll grab him, don’t worry!’ Haf shouts as she passes.

Clearly fed up with everyone chasing him, and wanting to get away from all the chaos he has caused, Cupid changes course and runs into the dark.

Haf keeps running, following what she hopes is the sound of the wired lights against the ground. She runs past one abandoned string of lights, and then another. He’s left a trail in his wake. Haf realises that she’s running back towards where Christopher parked the car. But Cupid is nowhere to be seen. There are no more fairy lights, and it’s so much darker over here, away from the fête.

‘Haf!’ Kit is calling for her, but she can’t see where from. Haf spins around slowly, and spots Kit waving from the edge of the duck pond.

Running purely on adrenaline and the remains of the wine, Haf ploughs on through the snow to Kit’s side.

‘Did you find him?’ she pants.

Kit points out into the centre of the lake. ‘He’s there!’

In the middle of the duck pond is an island with a bright red duck house decorated in holly and a wreath. And shivering next to it is a half-soaked, dishevelled Cupid.

‘Oh thank God, he stopped,’ Haf cries.

‘How are we going to get him? Do you think we can coax him to swim back?’