Page 56 of Confessions of a Christmasholic

‘I saw Santa! He’s over there, and I’m going to ask him for an octopus or a shark!’

Sutton blinked. ‘And where will you keep an octopus or a shark, Felix?’ she asked, intrigued.

‘In Nan’s pond! If I can’t get either of those, I want a giant squid!’

Alrighty then. She looked at Gus, who rolled his eyes.

‘I might also ask for an otter. And a mouse,’ Felix declared.

‘I think you should limit how many nature programs he gets to watch, Gus, or else you’ll end up with a zoo,’ Sutton suggested. She looked down at Rosie. ‘And what are you going to ask Santa for, Rosie?’

‘A snake to eat Felix’s mouse!’ she retorted, glaring at her brother. Right, they’d been fighting but Sutton knew better than to ask. She’d learned that much.

Rosie crossed her little arms and looked across the lawn to what Sutton knew to be a makeshift but quite realistic grotto. Why did people put Santa in a cave when everyone knew he lived in a perfectly nice wooden house in Lapland?

‘Do you want to sit on Santa’s lap?’ she asked Rosie, changing the subject.

Rosie shook her head. ‘I’m not allowed to sit on strange people’s laps, so I think I’ll stand.’

Fair enough. ‘But I don’t think he’s the real Santa,’ Rosie added, her little nose wrinkling.

Sutton and Gus exchanged a puzzled look. Before they could reply, Rosie spoke again. ‘Shall we call the police and tell them so they can lock him up?’

‘Santa decided he needed a break from Santaland and sorting presents, possibly from Mrs Santa too,’ Sutton lied, enjoying herself, ‘so he decided to visit the boys and girls of Conningworth village.’

Rosie shook her head. ‘Nope.’

Sutton, out of ideas, handed the problem over to her father. ‘I called his chief elf,’ Gus told his daughter, using his highly effective don’t-argue-with-me voice. ‘He said the real Santa is coming and Chief Elves aren’t allowed to lie.’

Rosie squinted at Gus, her little hands on her hips. ‘Does that mean normal elves are allowed to lie?’

Sutton knew he wanted to roll his eyes and silently praised him for his patience. ‘Nobody is allowed to lie, Rosie.’

Thankfully, the thorny problem of whether the Santa in the grotto was the real deal or not was put onto the back burner by Moira’s arrival. Looking smart and chic in a black coat, black trousers and a bold, fuchsia-coloured scarf wrapped around her neck, she stopped and placed her hand on Gus’s back. ‘How are you doing, darling?’ she asked.

Gus smiled at her and bent down to kiss her cheek. Their mutual affection was easy and authentic. Sutton understood why he’d never want to hurt, or lose, her by telling her about Kate’s infidelity.

Moira held a steaming cup of coffee, and Sutton wondered how she’d feel if she ripped it out of her hand. Moira, being as wonderful as Gus thought she was, handed her the cup. ‘It’s not blow, but it is addictive.’

They’d taken to teasing each other about Moira thinking she was a drug mule, and Sutton grinned. But calling it blow? She exchanged aWTFlook with Gus. Moira, seeing their confusion, rolled her eyes. ‘You know…the big C, snow, white lady.’

Gus darted a look at the twins. ‘We’ve got it, Moi.’

Sutton could easily imagine Moira hunched over her computer, typing the phrase ‘slang words for cocaine’ into her search engine and testing them out. Sutton gestured to her scarf, which looked to be cashmere. ‘That’s a beautiful scarf.’ And since they were talking about clothes, she’d yet to thank Moira for loaning her the dress on Thursday. So she did. ‘I so appreciate it.’

‘Gus said you had a nice time and I’m glad.’

Sutton shifted on her heels. Moirahadto know she and Gus were sleeping together. How did she feel about that? After all, her daughter had been Gus’s wife. Sutton forced herself to meet her eyes and in the faded blue she saw sadness, but more than a hint of practicality. Her daughter was dead, but Gus wasn’t.

Felix turned his attention to Gus. ‘Daddy, are you coming with us?’

Gus tapped his finger against the side of his iPad and winced. ‘Sorry, mate. I have so much to do.’

Moira shook her head and pursed her lips. ‘Angus, youneedto be there with them.’

He frowned at her. ‘I’m busy,Moira, I have a market to run! And have you seen the length of that queue?’ He gestured to a long line of parents and kids.

‘Sutton and I will join the queue and we will text you when we are near the front,’ Moira informed him.

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