Page 18 of The Village Christmas Party

‘Probably.’ She grins. ‘You know, I really enjoyed this evening, Lauren, and I’m thrilled for Audrey. It was a nice thing you did going into the shop and inviting her along.’

‘As I recall, it was your idea,’ I remind her.

‘It was, wasn’t it? Well, I’m glad she came, she seems really lovely,’ says Gemma.

‘She does, doesn’t she? And she deserved to win, she has real talent. Jump in then, I’ll give you a lift. I’ve been on the non-alcohol stuff.’

The community centre is on a country road slightly out of town, so I drop Gemma off outside her flat.

‘See you in the morning for another busy day. Some of those pre-Christmas promotions start tomorrow,’ I remind her.

‘I know. See you tomorrow then.’ She blows me a kiss as I drive off.

When I eventually arrive home, Tony is waiting at the front door, miaowing loudly.

‘Hi there, buddy. Have you been waiting for me?’ I ask as he threads himself through my legs miaowing even more loudly, and I wonder what’s up with him as he is never normally so vocal, especially outside. He normally just waits on the step, or lets himself in via the cat flap in the kitchen door. In fact, he seems a little bit agitated.

‘Too lazy to go around and use the cat flap at the back door, are you?’ I ask him as I press my key into the front door while he continues making loud noises.

My senses are heightened, as something immediately feels off. I walk towards the kitchen with trepidation, having pulled my phone from my bag, fingers poised.

Feeling a chilly blast as I edge the kitchen door open, I hope I had just opened a kitchen window to let some air in, although I never normally do that in December.

My heart beating loudly, I push the door open further and gasp as I notice the shards of glass on the kitchen work surface beneath the broken window above.

I take in the scene and my heart sinks. My flat screen TV has gone from the wall, and more frustratingly, my laptop from the kitchen counter. It has my diary and planning notes for the party on it, not to mention all of my photographs organised in folders. I breathe deeply, while trying not to panic. Why on earth did I leave my laptop out in full view? I usually hide it away somewhere, just in case, but this morning I was in a hurry.

This cannot be happening. I choke back a tear as I must face the awful truth that I have been burgled.

TEN

I can barely take it in, and find myself wandering from room to room, checking everything is in its place, and maybe desperately hoping my laptop will magically turn up in a different room but, of course, it doesn’t. I think of the photos on my laptop and my heart sinks, although thankfully I had the foresight to have most of them printed out and delivered by post, via an app. Mostly family photos that I treasure, especially as Mum and Dad are no longer together. I also keep a notebook, thankfully, reminding me of things that need to be done before the party.

I try to tell myself that worse things happen, and I am about to call the police when I hear banging on the front door and my heart thumps. Surely the burglars wouldn’t return. And they would hardly knock at the door, would they? Peeking through the frosted glass, I think I can make out the couple next door. I really ought to get one of those Ring doorbells with a camera. In fact, I will order one tomorrow in light of what has happened.

‘I think this belongs to you.’

Standing on the doorstep is my giant of a neighbour from a few doors down, Martin, holding my TV in front of him.

‘And this.’ His diminutive wife, June, is clutching my laptop.

‘My things! But how? I don’t understand.’ I almost cry at the relief of seeing my possessions, especially the laptop that I use to organise my life.

‘Well it was Tony that alerted us,’ Martin tells me as I guide him and June inside, feeling overwhelmed and suddenly a bit shaken.

‘Tony?’ I ask shocked as Martin places down the TV and strokes Tony under his chin, whose head looks tiny next to Martin’s giant hands and muscled tattooed arms.

‘Yes, he jumped onto our window ledge. In fact, he launched himself at the window like a missile, didn’t you, fella?’ says Martin to a purring Tony. ‘He nearly gave us a heart attack. When I went outside, he was miaowing like crazy and pacing around,’ Martin continues. ‘Then he raced around the back of the house, with us in hot pursuit.’

‘I said something was wrong, didn’t I, love?’ says tiny blonde June, dressed in her grey tracksuit with pink stripes down the legs.

‘You did. We followed him through the back gate, and saw the thieving bugger on the road, hurriedly loading your TV into his car, so I grabbed it back,’ says Martin, sounding affronted. ‘I mean, I didn’t know it was your stuff at first, but then I saw your back gate wide open and put two and two together. And with Tony acting the way he did…’

‘Oh, Martin, thank you, are you okay?’ I ask, concerned, as Martin is well into his sixties, although thinking about it he keeps himself very fit. He has also told me on many occasions that he used to do a bit of boxing back in the day.

‘Of course I am, he was no more than a kid,’ he reassures me. ‘Probably just some little opportunist thief who noticed the house in darkness. You must be careful at this time of year, love,’ he advises. ‘You should leave a light on in these dark evenings.’

‘Gosh, yes, I normally do leave a lamp on,’ I tell him, feeling annoyed with myself that I hadn’t done so before I went out.

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