Page 77 of The Black Trilogy

Tia may have said we, but she didn’t help in the slightest, mainly because she couldn’t stop laughing.

“See, I told you we could do it.”

Right. “If you ever tell anyone I was standing here with my hand stuck up a turkey’s bottom, I’ll kill you.”

“I’m not planning to tell anyone. I’m just going to put a photo on Facebook.”

“No, you’re not!”

Fortunately, she couldn’t run away with her ankle strapped up, so it was easy enough to grab her phone and delete the offending picture.

“Spoilsport.”

Luke came in. “Are you two going to stop messing around and cook? Or are we having Christmas dinner for breakfast?”

Tia stuck her tongue out. “Slave driver.”

Dinner made it to the table by early evening. It was, without doubt, the worst meal I’d ever eaten, but Tia’s happiness was infectious.

“That was so much fun,” she squealed. “This is the best Christmas ever!”

“The cake tasted all right,” said Luke. “I liked the skiing snowmen. How did you get it to slope downhill like that?”

I tapped my nose. “Trade secret.”

TV repeats were the order of the evening, and we all sat around the fire wearing dodgy jumpers Tia had dredged up.

“You have to wear them,” she insisted. “It’s not Christmas otherwise.”

Hers had a tree with sparkly tinsel, mine had a snowman, and the red nose on Luke’s reindeer lit up. The true meaning of Christmas, twenty-first-century style. We opened the rest of the presents while drinking a nice bottle of red.

“Tia shouldn’t have wine,” Luke said.

“Oh, let her have a glass. If she’s going to become an adult, she needs to be treated like one.”

I mean, at sixteen I’d been drinking a lot more than wine, and look how I’d turned out. Okay, so maybe that was a bad example.

Tia got a top from Arabella, and Luke had bought her a stack of gift cards from both of us. She’d got him a model racing car and me a spa voucher. I’d never been a “spa day” sort of girl, but I appreciated the sentiment, especially considering she hadn’t been speaking to me a few days before.

Perhaps I should try to relax more? After all, the last time I went to a spa was on a stakeout. Surely I’d enjoy it more if I didn’t have to eavesdrop on a senator’s ex-wife?

I unwrapped my next gift, an iPod from Luke, and he gave me a shy smile.

“You said you wanted one for running.”

“That was ages ago. I’m impressed you remembered.”

“I can’t lie—I saved a note on my phone.”

The card I gave Luke contained a message telling him to take the twenty-seventh off.

“What for?” he asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Is it anything like this morning’s surprise? I’d take the whole week off for that.”

“La la la,” Tia sang, stuffing her fingers in her ears. “Guys, I don’t want to know.”

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