Christmas Presents - 1. Chapter 1

Craig woke at five thirty, long before the first glimmer of dawn on a December morning. The remnants of an anxiety dream niggled at him. He’d been back working for Crest again, driving round from cinema to cinema as calls from the Operations Centre came in over the hands free, informing him of more broken down equipment he needed to fix. No matter how hard he tried, he knew there was no way he could hope to reach all of the sites and complete the work in time.

He still had those dreams now and then, proving how stressful his life had been; how much the job had drilled itself into his psyche. Strange to think it was less than a year since he’d met James and taken that frightening - yet liberating - step off the treadmill. This would be their first Christmas together.

James carried on sleeping peacefully, Jerry curled in the crook of his legs. Now the colder weather had come, that was where he spent most nights. Craig reached over to rub the cat’s scarred, ginger ears. Jerry opened one eye briefly, stretched out his curved talons to knead the duvet briefly, then subsided into slumber again.

It was stupid waking up at this time. There was no need, these days, but his internal alarm clock refused to switch off. The best way to cope with it was just to lie still and let random thoughts drift through his mind until he fell asleep again.

Last night, when he’d let Jerry back in, it had already been cold and frosty. He thought of his former colleagues scraping their car windscreens as they prepared for another day on the road. Poor sods. He pushed that thought away in favour of more pleasant ones. Christmas was only two weeks away. This year, he was even getting a little bit excited about it. He was having a proper Christmas break; the first he’d since he started work in the cinema business aged nineteen. He was spending it with the man he loved. What could be more perfect?

He didn’t remember dropping off again, but the next time he checked, the red digits of the clock showed it was five past seven. Beside him, James yawned noisily, as he always did.

‘Morning,’ he said, sleepily.

Craig leaned over to kiss him. Although they’d been living together at the cottage for almost nine months, he still felt that rush in his heart. He’d never get tired of waking up next to James.

Jerry took this as his cue to climb over the mound of duvet and settle between them, purring loudly. People beginning to stir, to him, must equate to having a fuss made, followed by breakfast.

This morning, breakfast would be delayed. James responded eagerly to the kiss and it became obvious to Craig this would be one of those days when waking up didn’t necessarily mean getting out of bed right away. Not that he had any objections. They didn’t always have time for sex first thing in the morning, but today, neither of them had to be out early. Jerry got himself rapidly out of the way as James threw back the duvet to give them more room to move.

When they’d finished, Craig sat up, still slightly out of breath as his heart settled back to its normal rate. The first thing he noticed was Jerry sitting on the chest of drawers, staring at them both.

‘That cat is a voyeur.’ James shook his head, smiling.

‘No, he’s just annoyed we delayed his breakfast by a couple of minutes.’

‘Couple of minutes!’ James feigned shock. ‘I’d like to think I’ve a bit more stamina than that.’

‘You might have, but I’m not so sure about me…’ Craig turned the comment back on himself. ‘Anyway, I suppose we’d best go downstairs. The fire’ll need tending.’

They’d worked out a routine by now, taking it in turns to rake out the ashes and get the stove burning merrily again. It heated the water and the radiators, so was a priority job. The other priority was making coffee. Today, it was Craig’s turn to brew up and start on breakfast while James carried the hot ashes out to a metal bin in the yard.

He switched on his phone and read a couple of emails while the machine spluttered and fumed. Nothing that couldn’t wait until later.

James threw a couple of smaller logs in the firebox. ‘What are we having for breakfast?’

‘I fancy a bacon sarnie. Maybe a fried egg, too.’

‘Go on then. I’ll have the same.’

‘See, I knew I’d get you onto unhealthy eating, eventually.’ Craig selected a couple of eggs from the basket. Their hens had stopped laying for the winter, so these were shop bought.

‘Yeah, but I reckon we can find plenty of ways to burn off the excess.’ James smirked. His own phone pinged and he checked the screen. ‘Message from Briony.’

Craig had met Briony, James’s elder sister, during the summer, when she’d come up for a weekend break. She had a similar outlook on life to her brother and they’d got on well. ‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

‘Yes. She’s reminding me about Christmas.’ He looked up. ‘I forgot to tell you about our tradition. Each year, we take it in turns to do Christmas Day dinner. Last year I went over to hers, so this year, it’s my turn.’

‘She’s coming here?’

James nodded. ‘She’s got a new bloke, too. Carl, his name is.’

Back when she’d visited, Briony had told Craig all about her divorce a few years ago and that she had been taking break from relationships. It was good to know she’d got past that. ‘So he’ll be coming with her?’

‘That’s right.’

For some reason, Craig had thought it would just be the two of them, but if it was a family tradition, he didn’t want to break it. Besides, Briony was fun, so he couldn’t see her getting together with a miserable man.

‘You can take them to the pub on Christmas morning while I’m slaving over a hot stove.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it. We’ll all help you out.’

‘Get under my feet, more like.’ James smiled, so Craig knew he was joking. ‘I don’t know why some people get so wound up about Christmas dinner. It’s only a Sunday roast, after all, just maybe for a few more people. And I’ll get a lot of the veg ready the day before. I’m picking up the goose from Archie’s next week.’

‘Just don’t let him goose you.’

‘He wouldn’t dare. He knows I’m unavailable.’

‘Hmm.’ Craig had seen the way Archie looked at James. It was clear the man was still hopelessly smitten.

‘Are you jealous,’ James teased.

‘Of Archie? Course not.’ It was just sometimes this all seemed a bit too perfect to be true. Craig had never believed in Hollywood endings, not even since falling into one of his own. He often wondered if he’d wake up, back in his old house and old job, to find out it had all been a dream. ‘Here you go.’ He set the plate down in front of James. ‘That’ll keep you going for a while.’

The run up to Christmas passed by in a whirl. He and James bought their Christmas tree from a local farm, then spent the day decorating it. Craig wondered if Jerry might try to climb it, but he contented himself with bashing any baubles hung within his reach.

‘Don’t think we’ll have a white Christmas,’ James said. ‘The usual English December; damp and muddy. We’d better get the cabins ready though.’

Two families had booked in for a break over the Christmas holiday and were staying through New Year. The week before Christmas, Craig and James took up two smaller trees and decorated the cabins. There were plenty of logs already in the store, so Craig brought in several baskets full and stacked them up. They’d walk up on Boxing Day morning to light the stoves ready for the guests arrival at around two.

They made their way back down to the cottage as the daylight faded. ‘There’s just one thing missing,’ James said, holding Craig’s hand as the track widened sufficiently for them to walk side by side.

‘And what’s that?’

‘A dog to walk with us.’

He’d mentioned it a few times before. ‘Well, like you said, after Christmas is over, we’ll go to the dog shelter.’ It was a sad fact that come January, most of the pet rescue centres were full. People suddenly realised pets needed feeding and looking after and weren’t just cute, cuddly Instagram opportunities.

‘You think Jerry will be all right with it?’

‘I’m sure he will.’ Jerry was a tough cat. He’d knock a dog into shape in no time.

‘You know a couple of the dogs at Archie’s farm were abandoned around Christmas time? People do that round here; drive out from the town to dump their unwanted pets. If he hadn’t found Georgie and Stumpy, they’d have died.’

Maybe Archie had some good points after all. ‘How can people do that?’

‘Beats me.’ James shook his head slowly. ‘Perhaps the animals who end up in shelters are the lucky ones.’

Back at the house, they took mugs of cocoa into the lounge. Jerry jumped up on Craig's knee and settled down for the evening. ‘How do you feel about sharing this place with a dog?’ Craig asked the purring, furry lump. Jerry, of course, made no reply.

Christmas Eve was mizzly and damp. James prepared braised red cabbage and a sprout dish, as well as putting together a buffet for Briony and Carl’s arrival in the evening.

‘Could you nip to the shop and get some more wine? And another couple of bottles of Prosecco for Briony?’

‘I didn’t notice she was a big drinker last time she was here.’ Craig reckoned they had enough wine in stock to tide them through a couple of weeks, but James always tended to worry about running out of food and booze.

‘It’s just in case. I want it to be a perfect Christmas for them.’

Craig didn’t like to see him so harried. ‘Won’t be long then.’ He reached his arms around James’s waist and nibbled his ear. ‘Maybe when I get back, I can help you relax.’

‘Hmm. Sounds good.’ He checked the clock again. ‘If there’s time.’

‘We’ll make time.’

But when he returned, James was even more stressed. ‘Briony’s just sent me a message.’ He waved his phone.

‘What’s happened?’

‘It’s Carl’s daughter. She had a blazing row with her mum and said she didn’t want to spend Christmas where she wasn’t wanted. So she’s coming with them instead.’

‘Ah.’

‘That means we need to get the other guest room ready and I’ve still got loads to do…’

‘Don’t worry.’ Craig put on the same tone of voice he used to use to calm down cinema managers when their digital projectors broke down with four hundred customers in the auditorium. ‘I’ll sort all that out. You just carry on with what you have to do. They’ll still be here around six, I assume?’

‘Maybe a bit later, because of the diversion to pick up…’ James glanced at his phone again. ‘Katie. What if we don’t have enough food?’

‘We do. There’s more than enough for five people.’ Craig sniffed the spicy aroma of the mulled wine, heating slowly on the hot plate. ‘Once I’ve done, we’ll get all this laid out, then we can sit and have a glass or two of that. Chill out. Get into the Christmas spirit.’

Fortunately, they’d cleared most of the boxes out of the smaller bedroom a few weeks ago. Getting it ready was only a matter of turning on the radiator, making up the bed and piling the remaining boxes in a corner. Craig drew the curtains across. That would help the room to heat up more quickly.

Back in the kitchen, James had moved on to the salads; home made coleslaw, giant couscous with feta and an avocado salsa. Craig busied himself taking dishes of nuts, tortilla chips and pretzels through to the table. There wasn’t much else that could be done until the guests were here.

James put the last bowl into the fridge, which was stuffed to the brim. They’d had to move some of the hardier vegetables to a box in the outhouse. ‘There. Done, except for heating stuff up when they get here.’

‘Then let’s have a drink.’ It was only five-fifteen. They probably wouldn’t arrive for at least an hour. ‘You’ve been slogging all afternoon. Bet your feet need a rest.’ Craig ladled some of the mulled wine into a glass mug, then filled one for James. ‘Cheers. And happy Christmas Eve.’

They clinked mugs. The wine tasted as good as it smelled; rich, spicy and warming. Flames danced merrily in the old fireplace, reflecting off the wood panelling of the room. He snuggled closer to James. ‘This is good.’

‘Hmm,’ James agreed. After all of the rushing around, he seemed to be relaxing at last.

Craig took a chance and put his mug down on the side table, before leaning over to plant a gentle kiss on James’s lips. ‘We’ve got time,’ he whispered. ‘And we aren’t going to have much opportunity once the hordes descend.’

‘Three people aren’t exactly a horde.’

‘Well, you know what I mean.’ Craig saw the look in James’s eyes and knew he didn’t need much persuading. The sitting room was warm, the sofa comfortable. They’d spent a few enjoyable winter afternoons in slow, gentle loving there. Today was no exception.

There was nothing like mulled wine and post-orgasmic bliss to make a person sleepy, Craig reflected. He wished he could stay like this all evening, watching TV and cuddling with James. But then James’s phone dinged again.

‘Briony,’ he said. ‘They’re only about ten minutes away, she reckons.’ He sat up abruptly. ‘Better put things in the oven.’

Craig sighed. Ah well, it had been good while it lasted. They’d have the place to themselves again in just a few days. ‘I’ll get a refill while we’re waiting. You should have one, too.’

They waited in the kitchen, until the sound of an engine and headlights flashing through the window alerted them. James went to the door to greet his sister, while Craig hovered just behind. The porch wasn’t really large enough for more than three people at a time.

‘Craig. Good to see you again.’ Briony moved on, making room for Carl to shake James’s hand. Craig led her through to the kitchen.

She looked around. ‘It’s so snug in here.’

‘Well, the range is fired up full time these days. Back in the summer when you visited it was off. Made the place too hot. Would you like some mulled wine?’

‘That sounds delicious. Carl…?’

Carl had to stoop through the doorway. He must be well over six feet tall and the beams in the kitchen were low enough in places that even Craig, at five ten, sometimes brushed against them. He saw James’s concerned expression, although there wasn’t much he could do about it, except maybe provide Carl with a hard hat for his stay. He’d definitely have to duck going up the stairs.

‘I’d love one after that drive. I thought the sat nav had taken us the wrong way.’

‘Yes, I felt like that, the first time I came here.’ Craig filled two glass mugs with wine for Briony and Carl. When he turned back, he saw James raise his eyebrows as Katie preceded him into the room. She looked like some exotic creature which had ended up here, in the English countryside, by a quirk of fate. Dressed entirely in black, with heavy-looking platform boots festooned with buckles and chains, the only splashes of colour were a streak of brilliant blue in her long black hair and matching lipstick.

‘Er, is your daughter allowed to drink?’ he asked Carl. He wasn’t sure exactly what age she was, except that it was presumably under eighteen.

‘She can have one glass,’ Carl said.

‘Dad! I drink all the time.’

‘I know.’ He sounded resigned. ‘Your mother’s told me. Just one glass, all right?’

Maybe that was what they’d rowed about? Craig handed them out, then refilled his own and James’s.

‘Cheers,’ James said.

Everyone took modest sips except for Katie, who drank almost the whole lot at once, then made a face as she put the glass down on the kitchen table. ‘That’s gross,’ she said.

‘Then don’t drink it,’ her dad said. ‘Oh, you already did. Can’t have been too bad, then.’

Katie made another face, then took her phone out of one of the many pockets in her trousers and turned away from them all.

‘Shall we go through to the dining room,’ James suggested. ‘The buffet will be ready in about ten minutes. Hope you’re all hungry?’

‘Starving,’ Briony said. ‘I know how much food you always make, so I only had a light lunch.’

Ducking beneath the lintel, Carl turned. ‘Katie. Come on through.’

‘In a minute.’ Her fingers flew over the screen. She was probably messaging all her friends to tell them she was stuck out in the middle of nowhere and it was sooo boring. Craig left her to it, thankful she wasn’t his problem and joined the others.

‘This room looks amazing.’ When Briony had last been at the cottage, it hadn’t been finished. Now, with the Christmas decorations and the tree in the corner, it looked a treat. Craig felt a warm glow of satisfaction. He and James had done nearly all the work themselves, except for the electrics and plastering. They’d lit a fire in here, too, to give it that cosy feel. ‘We’ve done the bathroom, too. No more avocado suite.’

‘Make yourselves at home,’ James said. ‘Craig and I will fetch the rest of the buffet.’

Katie still lurked by the window, eyes glued to her phone. Craig ignored her and got out the salads.

James, however, was made of stronger stuff. ‘Why don’t you go through, Katie? The food will be ready soon.’

She shrugged.

‘What do you like to eat?’ he asked, evidently attempting to engage her in conversation. Craig reckoned he was wasting his time.

She glanced at the salads. ‘None of that stuff.’

‘I’ve made some sausage rolls and mince pies, too. Plus there’s cold meats, pickles and a cheeseboard.’

‘I’m vegan.’

James looked smitten. Craig felt for him. He’d asked Briony well in advance if Carl had any allergies or dislikes and now he’d been landed with a guest who probably couldn’t eat anything he’d prepared.

He hurried through to the dining room, where Carl and Briony sipped their wine in front of the fire.

Briony must have noticed the expression on his face. ‘What’s up.’

‘Katie’s just said she’s vegan.’

Carl gave a snort. ‘That’s her latest fad. Don’t worry too much about it. It’ll be something else in month or so.’

That was all very well, but not much help right now. All the shops would have shut so there was no chance of picking up any alternative food. Craig placed the salads on the table, then returned to the kitchen, almost bumping in to Katie as she stomped through. He was glad she hadn’t trodden on one of his feet with those big boots.

James was taking some of the food out of the oven. ‘What am I going to do?’

‘Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault.’

‘What if she starves?’

‘In two days? She’ll be fine. You’ve made tons of vegetable dishes to go with Christmas dinner, so she can have a plateful of those.’

‘I got the feeling she wasn’t fond of salads when you just took them through.’

‘Well, that’s her problem. Bet she’ll eat them later on when she gets hungry. Anyway, if she’s vegan, she must eat vegetables. There isn’t much else she can eat.’

James sighed. ‘I just get the feeling she’s not going to bring much in the way of Christmas spirit to the festivities.’

The buffet was a great success. James kept trying to cajole Katie to eat and she did eventually pick at the nuts and tortilla chips. Once everyone had eaten their fill, Carl took her out with him to help unload the car, after which Craig showed them their rooms. Katie stayed in hers. Everyone else settled down with more mulled wine and the conversation flowed much more easily without her scowling presence.

‘So, why did Katie have a row with her mum?’ Craig asked, an hour or so later. ‘Usual teenage stuff, I suppose.’

‘Didn’t you notice?’ Carl tapped his nose with a finger. ‘The septum piercing?’

Craig had, especially when she’d fiddled with it. One of the reasons he’d never been tempted to have any piercings was due to a traumatic experience he’d witnessed at school. A boy had tripped on the stairs and while trying to stop himself falling down the whole flight, he’d accidentally ripped a girl’s earring out. There’d been lots of blood and screaming.

‘Now she’s sixteen, she doesn’t need a parent’s permission, but Teresa didn’t want her to have it done. Anyway, she went into town with some friends yesterday and came back with that. It may not sound much, but it was the final straw.’

Briony agreed. ‘It’s difficult, being a teenager.’

Which was true, of course. Craig’s escape from the world had been his local cinema. It was no wonder, really, he’d ended up working there.

‘You were never any trouble,’ James said to her. ‘Unlike me.’

‘They didn’t understand, that was all.’

‘Still don’t. I’ve invited them here, but they don’t want to know.’

‘Mum would love this place.’ Briony sipped her wine.

‘Yes, but she’s too much under dad’s thumb to ever come here on her own. And you know what he’s like…’ James tailed off.

‘It’s that generation,’ Carl said. ‘When I started going out with girls, my parents didn’t approve of anyone I brought home. I can get where Katie’s coming from, except we always gave the kids a lot more freedom than either of us had. Hasn’t stopped her rebelling, though. I’m just praying Mitchell doesn’t follow her example.’

‘He’s sweet,’ Briony said.

‘So was Katie until she turned fourteen.’

There was a thump from upstairs. Then another one. It sounded too heavy to be Jerry jumping off the bed. James’s eyes flicked to the ceiling. ‘Er, do you think she’s all right?’

‘Just stomping around as usual.’ Carl and Briony sat comfortably close on the sofa.

There was another loud bang, followed by the unmistakeable sound of someone being sick. The bathroom door slammed. ‘Maybe someone should go up,’ Craig suggested. ‘That doesn’t sound too good.’

‘I suppose I’d better see what she’s up to,’ Carl unentangled himself from Briony. ‘I’m sorry about this.’

‘No, it’s fine,’ James said, although his face told another story.

They heard Carl’s footsteps on the stairs, punctuated by an ‘ow’ as he hit his head on the low overhang.

‘She’s a bit of a handful,’ Briony explained.

Craig had already gathered that. For the next few minutes, he - and the other two - tried to carry on talking and pretending they weren’t eavesdropping as Carl rapped sharply on the bathroom door several times. This was followed by raised voices, more retching and the sound of the toilet being flushed.

‘Maybe we should go up?’ James looked distinctly uneasy.

‘Leave them,’ Briony said. ‘Carl will sort it out. He’s used to this.’

Katie shouted at her dad some more, although Craig couldn’t make out the words. Suddenly, there was an ominous crack. Then silence. Craig jumped to his feet, only narrowly beaten to it by James. Even Briony put down her drink and stared up at the ceiling as if afraid it was about to cave in.

James paused at the foot of the stairs. ‘Everything all right up there?’ he called.

Craig hovered at his side. Then Carl appeared. ‘Er, maybe you need to look at this. I’ll apologise in advance and of course I’ll pay for the damage…’

Craig felt his heart sink. What had Katie done? He imagined a splintered door hanging off its hinges; a broken loo seat. It was far worse.

A trail of vomit spattered the landing carpet. Some of it painted the wall, too. Katie sat on the loo seat, head in hands. The sink was hanging askew and water sprayed from a split pipe.

James was immediately practical. ‘Can you get a screwdriver?’ he asked Craig.

Craig rushed back downstairs. They had a small toolbox in one of the kitchen cupboards for emergencies, but this was the first time it had been used in earnest. He found a flat headed driver and raced back. Good job they’d fitted isolating valves on all the pipework.

With a twist of the screwdriver, James cut off the water supply. ‘I think we can prop this sink up for the time being,’ he said to Craig.

‘And what’s this?’ Carl had returned from Katie’s bedroom bearing an almost empty bottle of Bailey’s, still partially wrapped in Christmas paper.

Katie looked up, her eyes red and blotchy. Mascara had run down her cheeks. ‘I found it,’ she said stubbornly.

‘Yes, in the boot of the car. It was a present. Good job you were sick or we might have been taking you to the nearest hospital with alcohol poisoning.’

Craig felt almost sorry for the girl. He’d had a few unpleasant experiences with alcohol when he was a teenager. ‘I’ll make her some coffee.’ He didn’t really want to stay to hear all the recriminations.

Briony obviously had a similar idea. ‘If you’ve some rubber gloves, I’ll clear up the mess,’ she offered.

They retreated downstairs again, leaving Carl with his daughter. James pulled on his coat and went out to the shed to find some pieces of wood for a temporary fix on the sink.

‘She’s going to feel awful,’ Briony said. ‘I got terribly drunk on Bailey’s once. I’ve never been able to face it since, but I know James enjoys a glass. That was his Christmas present.’

‘Somehow, I don’t think he’ll want to drink it again after seeing that mess upstairs.’

Briony smiled. ‘Do you think I should point out to her it’s not vegan, with all that cream?’

‘Perhaps not.’ Craig handed her some cleaning spray, a disposable cloth and the gloves. ‘You don’t have to do this.’

‘I’d like to help. And I’m not squeamish. Besides, it’s partially my fault. I mean, we brought her.’

‘It didn’t sound as if you had much choice. Don’t worry about it.’

James returned as the kettle boiled. Briony had already gone back upstairs. ‘Not quite how I envisioned Christmas Eve,’ he said.

‘Oh well, at least it’s memorable. Need a hand with that?’

‘Please. If you hold the sink up while I fix a couple of battens, it should be fine. How the hell did she manage that?’

‘Who knows? She was clomping around like an elephant, though. You know how clumsy people can be when they’re drunk.’

James sighed. ‘And I bet Briony’s putting herself through a guilt trip.’

Craig nodded. ‘I told her not to worry.’

‘She will though. It’s how she is.’

‘Shall we get on with it, then?’

They tried to get back into the jolly party spirit, but it wasn’t quite the same. Katie had gone to bed after drinking the coffee and plenty of water. James left a bucket beside her bed, just in case. Carl seemed subdued, while Briony tried to be extra chirpy, as if to compensate. By ten-thirty, everyone was ready for bed.

Craig lay next to James, staring at the ceiling. He knew James wasn’t sleeping either. ‘That was a hell of an evening,’ he murmured.

‘I know. Makes me glad I don’t have any kids.’

‘Come on, we were all teenagers once. Look at it from her point of view. Her mum and dad split up. Now dad’s got a new girlfriend. She’s trying to get his attention.’

‘I suppose so.’ James turned to face Craig. ‘Let’s hope tomorrow’s better.’

‘I’ll get Carl to help me put the sink back properly while you’re cooking. And we’ve some spare copper pipe out in the shed, so it won’t take long to mend that either.’

‘You’re too good to me.’

‘I don’t like to see you stressed.’ Craig rolled onto his side, too and stroked James’s shoulder. ‘We’ll sort it out.’

They didn’t get out of bed much later than any other day. The fire still needed making up, Various creatures - including humans - needed feeding and it was a good opportunity to get in the bathroom before anyone else.

As soon as breakfast was finished, he left James and Briony chatting in the kitchen, while he sorted out the tools and fixtures for the sink. Carl didn’t have to do much except support the weight while he worked.

‘You’re pretty handy at this sort of stuff,’ he commented. ‘I’d have had to get someone in.’

‘I worked in a cinema.’ As soon as he said it, he realised it didn’t necessarily make much sense to anyone who hadn’t. ‘I was a projectionist. We’d fix most things if we could, not just the projection equipment.’

‘Is that how you met James?’

‘No. I was working as an engineer by then, driving all over the country. We were both stuck on a motorway in the snow and had to spend the night in a village hall. We hit it off right away. How did you meet Briony?’

‘Far more mundane. After Teresa and I separated I didn’t really know how to get back into the dating game. Someone suggested I join a book club. We got talking and went out for a few meals. She’s so easy to talk to…’

‘So’s James.’

The bedroom door creaked open and Katie emerged, looking pale and unwell. She must have a terrible hangover. ‘There’s another loo downstairs if you need it,’ Craig said. ‘Although we’ll only be ten minutes or so.’

Katie wrapped her arms around herself. In her fleecy onesie and with no makeup, she looked much younger. ‘Sorry, dad,’ she said, in a small voice, before turning to Craig. ‘Sorry about your sink.’

‘You’d better apologise to James as well,’ Carl told her.

She nodded, then winced. Moving her head obviously hurt.

‘Ask him for some paracetamol, too,’ Craig added. He heard her walk slowly downstairs. ‘Hung over on Christmas morning. Been a few years since I did that.’

Carl smiled. ‘Me, too.’ He paused. ‘She’s not really a bad girl.’

‘No.’ Craig struggled to tighten the connection to the tap tails. There was never quite enough room under a sink. Eventually it was done and he turned the water back on, checking for leaks. None, thankfully. ‘That’s it.’ There was a bit of filling and painting to be done, but the bathroom was once more functional.

Back in the kitchen, the smell of roasting goose had begun to fill the air. Jerry sat expectantly next to the range, while Briony and Katie nursed mugs of coffee at the table.

‘All done,’ Craig said, holding up the pieces of timber James had used as a temporary prop. ‘I’ll just put these back.

‘Maybe we could all go for a walk,’ Carl suggested. ‘Looks like it’s a lovely morning.’

Indeed it was. The cloud had cleared and bright winter sunshine shone through the kitchen window.

‘Oh, dad. Do I have to?’ Katie sounded slightly less woebegone.

‘It’ll do you good to get some fresh air,’ he insisted. ‘Do us all good, especially as we’re going to be indoors for the rest of the day.’

‘I’d like Carl to see your lovely log cabins,’ Briony put in. ‘You’ll like them, too,’ she said to Katie

Craig looked at James. ‘Will you be able to come with us?’

‘Better not. Can’t really leave all this for too long. But go on anyway.’

Getting everyone ready took a while. Katie hadn’t brought any suitable footwear, but thankfully Briony had put both her wellies and a pair of hiking boots into the car, so that was sorted.

Craig took them up through the wood by the least muddy path. He’d planned a circular route, so they’d come back via the road. None of them were really kitted out for a country walk. Yes, they had boots, but their trousers and coats were all good quality. Well, no rips or mud. Everyone around here put on their scruffiest things in the winter. He kept his fingers crossed no one would slip, get caught up in bushes or end up with green lichen smears anywhere.

He’d brought the key, thinking he might as well check all was well while he was up here. Even Katie seemed slightly impressed when she saw the hot tubs. ‘We’ve got guests arriving tomorrow so we’ll come up in the morning, get the fires lit and it’ll all be ready for them,’ he explained.

‘It’s idyllic up here in the summer,’ Briony said. ‘Just right for a romantic weekend.’ She linked arms with Carl and they had a little kiss. Katie looked disgusted and turned to the solace of her phone screen.

‘Well, maybe we could book one?’ he suggested.

‘You’ll have to get in quick,’ Craig said. ‘The summer holidays are filling up already.’

They went back down the vehicle access route Archie had cleared with his digger back in April. A robin, invisible among the bushes, sang tunefully, following them along.

Craig unlocked the gate padlock as they reached the road, while Katie scuffed the toe of Briony’s boot in the mud. She seemed almost back to her usual surly self, so she must be feeling better. Craig hoped she’d stay in relatively good humour for the rest of the day. He didn’t want James upset, after all the work he was putting in.

On their walk back along the road, Katie headed out in front, probably so she wouldn’t be associated with all the old people. They were almost back at the main track to the cottage when she abruptly stopped. ‘Dad!’ she called out.

Carl soon caught up. ‘What is it?’

She pointed down into the ditch. A black bin liner, tied at the top, was partially submerged in muddy water. ‘I saw it move.’

Craig hated it when people dumped rubbish at the roadside. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah. Look, there it is again.’

There was a faint movement and it didn’t seem to be caused simply by the flow of water over plastic. Craig jumped down into the ditch and picked it up gingerly. The sack was heavier than he’d expect for household rubbish. As he lifted it, he heard a noise. A sort of whimper. Oh shit! There was something alive inside.

He placed the bag carefully on the verge, then climbed back out, getting his knees covered in mud.

‘What’s inside?’ Carl asked.

‘Best find out.’ Quickly, he ripped the bag open, not sure what he was going to find and ready to jump back if it turned out to be something that might attack him. No creature was going to be happy after being tied up in a sack, after all. But as the contents were exposed to light, it became clear there was unlikely to be any danger. Three small puppies were inside. Two were clearly dead; probably drowned. Their attempts to escape had made tiny tears in the plastic, which had let in water. The third was barely alive, moving faintly, saved only by having climbed atop the others.

Katie stifled a cry. ‘Oh, no.’

Craig picked up the little creature. It was cold and soaked. Probably wouldn’t survive, but he had to try. He opened his jacket and tucked it inside, where the warmth of his body might help. ‘We need to get this one back as quick as we can,’ he said.

‘Are the others…?’ Katie asked.

‘Dead. Nothing we can do for them, I’m afraid.’ If only they’d been by earlier. Still, it was a miracle the other pup had hung on. He started to jog back, aware of the weight of the pup, held securely in the crook of his left arm. The track had never seemed so long, or the cottage so far away. Good job he was fitter now than he’d used to be. Even so, by the time he reached the yard, he was very out of breath. He opened the door, not bothering to take off his boots and staggered in.

‘What the…?’ James almost dropped a pan.

‘Need a towel. Blankets.’ He unzipped his jacket to reveal the tiny, shivering animal. ‘Found it in the ditch, down on the road.’

The others weren’t far behind him.

‘Is he all right?’ Katie knelt down next to Craig.

‘So far.’

James passed him the towel they used for Jerry when he came in soggy from one of his forays. Craig wrapped it around the pup and began to massage gently. That had to be the best way to get its circulation going, surely?

Katie was looking at her phone again. ‘It says here not to warm them up too fast.’ She sat herself on the floor next to Craig and read out the instructions. ‘“Gradually increase the temperature over half an hour to an hour. You can use a bottle filled with warm water and wrap it in a cloth.”’

‘How old do you think it is?’ Carl asked.

‘No idea. Are they born with their eyes shut, like kittens?’ Craig carried on, moving the towel to find a dry portion.

‘Yes,’ Katie said, after a few seconds. ‘For about two weeks. So he must be older than that.’

‘How could someone do such a thing?’ Briony shook her head as she helped Craig out of his coat.

‘We were just wondering that the other day.’ James leaned over. ‘There have been a few dogs - and puppies - abandoned in the lanes round here. Not usually so young, though.’

‘They were tied up in a sack.’ Katie sounded disgusted. ‘I saw it move.’

‘Well done for spotting it. They?’ he asked.

‘There were three. This was the only living one.’ Craig could feel the puppy wriggling as it began to warm up. A good sign.

Jerry, evidently feeling left out, strolled over, sniffing at the pup as it stuck its head out from the towel. Craig stayed at the ready, in case he decided they’d brought home a tasty snack for him, but Jerry simply sat and watched. Maybe that was a good sign, too.

James kept popping by in between preparing various dishes. Katie read out snippets on puppy care. Briony fetched the plush cat bed Jerry had consistently ignored since it had been bought while Carl provided more coffee. All of a sudden, the world seemed centred on this little creature. Once he was fully dry, Craig picked him up again and tucked him between his fleece and T-shirt, where he seemed very content.

‘Are you going to have to stay like that all day?’ James stroked the pup’s soft ears. Now he was dry, it was clear he was a mid-brown colour, with a couple of slightly grubby white patches.

‘Looks like. You might have to cut up my dinner for me.’

James smiled at that.’

‘Will he be all right?’ Katie still sounded concerned.

‘Let’s hope so. We’ll call the vet tomorrow and get him checked over. In the mean time, what are we going to call him?’ It might seem like bad luck to name a pup Craig hadn’t been certain would even survive the journey back to the cottage, but he had a hunch this little one would thrive.

‘Patch?’ suggested Briony. ‘I know it’s not very original, but…’

‘We had a dog called Patch when we were kids,’ James explained.

‘You could call him Lucky,’ Carl put in. ‘Being as he was.’

Craig had an idea. ‘If Katie hadn’t seen that bag, he wouldn’t be here now. So maybe she should name him?’ Even as he spoke, he hoped she wouldn’t come up with something too weird.

For once, she didn’t turn to her phone for inspiration. ‘Well, it’s Christmas Day,’ she said. ‘How about Noël?’

The pup licked Craig’s hand. He took that for approval. ‘Noël it is, then.’