Page 8 of A Merry Little Christmas
She gave me a mysterious smile. ‘And other things.’
‘Well, if you need some help organising it, we’ll all pitch in. Well,Idefinitely will and I’m pretty sure Maddy and Fen and Jaz would want to be part of it as well.’
At that moment, the door opened and Maisie came in, her cheeks glowing from the freezing air outside. She was carrying her baby sister, Isla, tucked up warmly in her car seat.
‘Dad dropped us off here because he wants to go to the library,’ she announced breathlessly, and we pushed our cups aside so she could place the baby seat on the table. I smiled at Isla, who was still sleeping peacefully, and Ellie stood up to fuss over her baby daughter, tucking the soft, sunshine yellow blanket more firmly around her.
She glanced at me with a wry smile. ‘Zak’s been looking after Isla all day. I expect he wants to get some writing done in peace before dinner.’
Maisie nodded. ‘Dad’s got a nasty deadline. He says his editor is going toactually murder himif he doesn’t deliver his book on time.’
‘Oh, dear.’ Ellie chuckled. ‘We can’t have that, can we? Murdered before his new book hits the shelves!’
Maisie shook her head. ‘Definitely not. Dad has to help you put up the tree because you can’t reach the top branches.’
‘Well, exactly!’ Ellie caught my eye and we started to laugh. ‘Zak’s editor is lovely but she can be quite fierce when she needs to be. I don’t blame him for panicking.Iwouldn’t want to be on the other end of her stern disapproval.’
‘How about I keep Maisie and little Isla company while you finish up here?’ I suggested.
‘Great.’ Ellie got to her feet.
‘I’m meeting Maddy at five, so we can all leave together.’
‘Can I have a hot chocolate, please, Mum?’ asked Maisie with a winsome smile.
‘Okay. It’s still quite a while until dinner.’
‘I’ll get it for her,’ I volunteered.
Back at the table, Maisie smiled gleefully at the extra marshmallows I’d added to her hot chocolate. ‘Thank you, Katja.’ She started eagerly spooning up the whipped cream and chocolate flakes.
‘You’re very welcome.’ I grinned at her enthusiasm. She already had a splodge of chocolate on her upper lip. ‘So, what’s new at school? Are you taking part in the Christmas show?’
She took a sip of her drink, yelping and waving her hand in front of her mouth when it was too hot. ‘I’m going to be in it,’ she said. ‘Just in the chorus, though.’
‘The chorus is very important.’
‘Actually, the show might not even happen.’
‘Oh, I heard about this. The boy who was playing Shrek had to be rushed to hospital to have his appendix out?’
She nodded solemnly. ‘It exploded and there was blood everywhere.’
I stared at her in horror.
‘I didn’t actually see it happen,’ she said hurriedly, ‘but the people who were there said it was awful.’
‘Right.’ I adjusted the horrific, blood-soaked image I’d had in my head. Twelve-year-olds did tend to exaggerate for dramatic effect. ‘So is the poor boy all right now?’
‘Ryan? Oh, yes, although he won’t be back at school in time to play the lead part in the show.’
‘So is someone else going to play the part of Shrek?’
She nodded. ‘Mrs Hunter, the music teacher, is doing auditions.’ She frowned. ‘This horrible boy in my class called Lewis Hatcher will probably get the part. He can’t sing very well but he’s a proper show-off and quite good at acting and he makes Mrs Hunter laugh. So he’ll probably be a shoo-in.’
‘A shoo-in, eh?’ I hid a smile. ‘Well, that doesn’t seem very fair to me. It should be people with good voices that get the parts. Not show-offs like Lewis Thatcher.’
‘Hatcher,’ she corrected me. ‘Yes, I know.’ She gave a theatrical sigh. ‘But when was life ever fair?’
