It’s a Wonderful Life: The Christmas bestseller is back with an unforgettable holiday romance

‘With all due respect, Head Teacher,’ said Jim, managing to make his title sound like an insult while smiling at him, ‘I think you’ll find morale at this school is very high, and that the students already take pride in their environment. I’m afraid you’ll find there’s very little to improve in that regard.’

‘It can’t hurt to take a look at it though, can it, Jim?’ Daniel said. ‘And please, no formalities, do call me Daniel.’

If there was one thing Daniel hated it was unnecessary bowing down to hierarchies. He had a feeling that Jim would see it differently.

‘Of course, Daniel,’ said Jim, with a smirk, managing again to make it sound sarcastic.

Unwilling to get into an awkward discussion on his first day, Daniel moved on, and by the end of the meeting felt he hadn’t acquitted himself too badly. It was clear that one or two members of staff were definitely Team Ferguson, but Carrie Woodall, Head of Maths, sidled up to him after the meeting and muttered, ‘Welcome on board, and don’t take any notice of Jim – he always likes to throw his weight around.’ Daniel smiled politely, but didn’t comment. It was good to know he had supporters though. Determined not to let Jim’s negative attitude ruin his day, he spent the rest of it trying to get a handle on what the job entailed. It was busy and exhausting, but by the end of it he felt exhilarated. The kids were nice and polite, the teachers, in the main, friendly, and even if he worked late, he lived a mere twenty minutes from home. More time with Beth. More time with the kids. Despite any difficulties that might lie ahead, this had been a good move.

*

Christmas Day

Beth

‘Merry Christmas.’

‘Bleugh.’ I awake gingerly, my head hammering from a combination of too much wine and not enough sleep, to see Daniel enter our bedroom bearing a tray with two glasses of fizz, and scrambled egg and salmon for breakfast. ‘Is it time to get up already?’

‘Afraid so, but I thought after the night you’ve had you deserved breakfast in bed.’

Although I could really do with staying in bed several hours longer, I’m touched by his thoughtfulness. I had hoped to be up and about early on Christmas morning, but thanks to Sam choosing last night to get spectacularly drunk I’ve barely slept. He’s started going out a lot more recently, and I’m struggling to get used to the nights of sitting up worrying where he is. Daniel tells me not to fret so much and tells me he’s just being a teenager, but it’s not easy. And last night, despite promising to be in by midnight, Sam finally staggered home at 3 a.m., having lost his iPhone in a nightclub, and promptly threw up everywhere. I hadn’t been able to sleep for worrying, and I came downstairs to find him lying with his arms wrapped round the base of the toilet bowl. I couldn’t get him upstairs so I ended up sitting up for the rest of the night, checking on him intermittently. I’ve only been back in bed for a couple of hours.

‘And this is for you,’ Daniel says with a flourish, handing me a present.

‘This doesn’t look much like a puppy,’ I say in mock disappointment. I’ve always wanted a dog, thinking it would be romantic to go for long walks together in the country, but Daniel can’t stand the idea. It’s been a standing joke with us for years that he’s going to buy me a puppy for Christmas. I know he never will.

‘Next year,’ he grins, giving me a kiss. ‘Anyway, I think you’ll like this more.’

I do like it. Daniel has thoughtfully bought me a set of paints and paper, and some lovely new pencils. He knows I’m still struggling with the book I’ve been working on all year.

‘Thought they might help boost the creativity,’ he says, as I lean over to kiss him.

‘Thank you, they’re perfect,’ I say. ‘And so are you.’

We stay together for several minutes in a cosy embrace, before Daniel says, ‘Breakfast?’ and I tuck into the scrambled eggs. The bed is so warm and comfy. I sigh, wishing once again we could stay at home this year. But no chance of that of course, so after breakfast, I go to call Megan and Sam, neither of whom want to move. They’re still not out of bed by the time Daniel and I have showered and dressed. We look at each other wryly. Time was when they’d have been up for hours by now, and we would be at the end of our tether. How life has changed.

Eventually we manage to bully them to get up, and we have just enough time to open a few presents, before chivvying them off to get ready to go to my parents’. Relaxing it’s not. One day I’ll manage to get the Christmas I want. One day …

Finally we load ourselves and several bags of presents into the car, with Megan whinging about wanting a lie-in, and Sam sitting in moody silence. His eyes are red and bloodshot from whatever poisons he thrust down his throat last night. I’m beyond cross with him, but it’s Christmas, so I’m determined to be cheerful. I put some Christmassy tunes on, but Sam moans that they’re making his head hurt. I heroically manage to restrain myself from snapping whose fault is that then? I feel that would be distinctly lacking in Christmas cheer.

Fortunately the drive is a short one, and while Daniel parks the car, the rest of us stagger into the house with the presents.

‘We’re here!’ I shout, pushing open the front door. ‘Merry Christmas!’

‘Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas!’ Dad comes bounding into the hall, which as usual is strung with horrible paper decorations we probably made in infant school. He’s dressed in his usual Santa Claus outfit; he insists on wearing it every year, even though it gets more and more threadbare. I can hear Christmas carols playing in the background, and begin to relax a bit. As usual, Mum will be chopping vegetables in the kitchen, warbling away to them. I take a deep breath. It is Christmas after all; I need to let go of my lack of sleep induced grumpiness.

Dad is waving a bottle of Prosecco around and looks rather red in the face. It’s unlike him to start drinking before we arrive, but never mind.

‘Still not got rid of that ghastly costume, Dad?’ I laugh. It’s a running joke every year.

‘Never!’ he says. ‘Bubbly anyone?’

I accept a glass, but Daniel says no as he’s being generous and driving this year. Sam looks like he might throw up at the thought, but I let Megan have a small one.

‘Where’s Mum?’

Is it my imagination, or does Dad suddenly look shifty?

‘Kitchen,’ he says.

Dad is in full mein host mode and ushers Daniel and the kids through to the lounge. Honestly, it makes me laugh how well he and Daniel get along now. To think of the grief I got when I first brought him home to meet them. It’s not that my parents are racist exactly, but I guess when imagining a much longed-for son-in-law, a black one hadn’t really featured, and Dad was quite sniffy at first. I can remember an excruciating occasion when he’d quizzed Daniel endlessly about his prospects. I wouldn’t have blamed Daniel for not giving my parents a second chance, especially as his own mum, in the short time I knew her, proved to be much less intolerant. But after she died, Mum forgot all about any prejudices she had and said, ‘That poor boy needs a mother.’ After that she really took him under her wing, and Dad quickly followed suit. Now they’re the best of friends, and you’d never know there had been a problem. Daniel is a forgiving sort, so he saw the best in them, and I have always loved him for it.

I wander into the kitchen to see if Mum needs any help. I always offer, even though I know her response will be to shoo me away, but to my surprise she’s barely made a start on the vegetables. She looks a bit pale and wan, and I feel guilty. I’ve barely seen her in the last month as I’ve been so wrapped up in my book. I have a sudden stab of worry that she might be ill.

‘Is everything OK, Mum?’ I ask.

‘Of course it is, why shouldn’t it be?’ she says, picking up a carrot ready to chop. ‘If you’re going to stand around in here, you may as well be useful.’ She hands me a knife.

Something’s a bit off here, but I can’t quite work out what, and there’s no point asking again. It’s not that I don’t get on with my mum. I do, and I love her very much, but we don’t have that cosy mother–daughter relationship that so many of my girlfriends enjoy. My mum doesn’t do cosy, and wouldn’t understand at all if I suddenly launched into a litany of my woes. She’s very good at practical advice, but go to her for help in emotional matters and you may as well howl at the moon.

We chop vegetables companionably, with carols playing in the background while Mum starts her annual moan about why Ged and Lou can’t ever get here on time, which is the main reason Daniel and I always come early, just to keep her from feeling totally unloved. Although it pisses me off too. Why is it always up to me to be the sensible one?

‘You know they have further to come,’ I say, trying to be diplomatic. ‘And Ged only just flew in from Oz yesterday, so he’s probably really jet-lagged.’

Ged has been taking a year off to ‘discover himself’. If I were to do such a thing, Mum and Dad would both think it’s ridiculous, but Golden Boy Ged, as the baby of the family, always does what he wants and gets away with it too. I love my younger brother dearly, but it’s sometimes very hard not to get fed up with the way he gets treated so differently just because he’s a boy.

‘He’s bringing Rachel,’ says Mum. ‘Did I say?’

‘Only about a hundred times,’ I laugh. Rachel is Ged’s new girlfriend. It will be interesting to see if she lasts longer that the rest. ‘Do stop trying to marry them off. Ged will run a mile if he thinks you’ve already bought your hat. You’ve already been on enough at Lou about Joe. You need to give them both some space.’

The doorbell rings.

‘That’ll be them now,’ says Mum, her face brightening.

Dad has got to the door first and we all troop out to say hello.

It’s Ged, with a very beautiful blonde girl in tow.

‘Oh,’ says Mum, her jaw dropping.

Oh indeed. Ged’s beautiful blonde appears to be pregnant.

Lou

I’m running late. As usual. Christmas has started with a very unpleasant bang. I had been so looking forward to it: my first Christmas as part of a proper couple. Jo and I had agreed to spend the day apart with our families, as I still hadn’t got round to breaking the news about our relationship to mine, but we’d planned to have breakfast together at the flat I share in Kentish Town, and make Boxing Day our Christmas. I had prepared stockings for her, and gone to town on the decorations. My Christmas tree was as sparkly as I could make it, much to the amusement of my flatmate, Kate, who had left three days earlier to spend the festive season with her family. I had spent hours making mince pies, mulled wine and eggnog. I’d even hung mistletoe over the door. I had everything planned down to a T. I so wanted it all to be perfect. I might have known it wouldn’t work out like that: Lou Holroyd and her spectacularly pathetic love life triumphs once again. Instead of a lovely evening in with a bottle of bubbly cuddled up on the sofa, Jo has dropped a bombshell, standing in the doorway of the lounge, underneath the sodding mistletoe, barely noticing the efforts I’d gone to.

‘It’s not you, it’s me, babe.’ She actually said that, and I know it’s not true, because her initial, ‘I’m a free spirit and I can’t give you what you want,’ quickly descended into, ‘You’re so clingy and need to sort your shit out.’ Which, given that I was wailing pathetically in a corner, probably wasn’t too far off the mark.

I suppose I should have seen it coming. We’d both been so busy in the run-up to Christmas, and I’d had to blow her out a couple of times because I was working late – is it my fault that after a while where I looked safe jobwise, things are looking decidedly dodgy again? – and I suppose she’d been more distant recently, but I’d just put that down to the hectic nature of both our lives. She’s a nurse in a busy medical practice, and I’m obviously working hard to try and reduce my chances of being made redundant. We both take our work seriously; it was one of the things that attracted me to her. That and the fact that she’s bloody gorgeous and I feel so lucky that someone as fabulous as Jo could have chosen me. But now …

‘It’s definitely over,’ was her parting shot to my pathetic plea for us to take a break and have a rethink in the New Year. And with that she was off, swanning out to join her friends, her other life, the one she barely let me get involved in, leaving me cold and lonely by the Christmas tree, which now looked gaudy and overdone in her absence. I guess now I look at it in the cold light of day, she was always a little bit ashamed of me. There were the times when she pulled away from me if I was being too affectionate in public, and the times she would put me down in front of our friends if she thought I was too loud. She’d stopped mentioning Christmas, which should have been a clue. I should have seen this coming. But then, I never bloody do.

So I spent last night in a drunken sobbing haze, barely slept at all and then missed my alarm. Now I’m driving like a maniac, feeling heartsick and hungover, to get over to Mum and Dad’s before 1 p.m. so I can prove to them that I’m not their most useless child. Poor old childless single Lou, turning up at Christmas on her own – again.

The drive from London down to Surrey is depressing beyond belief. The roads are mainly empty – everyone is clearly already with their families – and the sight of everyone’s Christmas trees and garden lights makes me feel miserable. It feels like everybody else is celebrating and having a good time, whereas my world has just collapsed.

My phone has been buzzing furiously the whole time I’ve been driving across London – so when I pull in at a traffic light, I stop to look at it. Three messages from Beth.

OMG!!! Ged’s girlfriend is pregnant, says the first.

Followed by, Mum’s crying in the kitchen and Dad’s ignoring it all.

The last one says GET YOUR BUTT HERE NOW. I CAN’T COPE.

Great. All I bloody need. A new baby in the family, and not one provided by me. I know by the time I get there, Mum will have come round to the good news and turned it into a positive. Ged can do no wrong in her eyes; Mum doesn’t half cut him some slack. And while she won’t be ecstatic about having a grandchild out of wedlock, I don’t doubt that within seconds she’ll be talking about knitting cardigans. After the grief I’ve heard over the years about her only having two grandchildren, I can’t see her being put out for long. Great. She’s given that one up of late; this will give her another excuse to pressurise me about babies.

The lights go green but my foot on the accelerator doesn’t move; I’m lost in a world of my own. I didn’t want to go today anyway. I’d much rather be curled up under the duvet in a miserable state, but if I missed Christmas I’d never have heard the end of it. But now? I’ve always wanted children. Ged never has, and Beth always says that domesticity and family life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be – which seems damned ungrateful to me. She’s so lucky to have her kids. It’s not bloody fair. Why do I have to be the one on my own? I might never get to have babies.

Tears start spilling down my cheeks, and suddenly I’m sobbing on the wheel, my car engine off. This is terrible. I can’t turn up like this.

There’s a knock on my car window, and I look up to see a policeman.

‘Are you all right, madam?’ he asks as I roll my window down. ‘Only you seem to be causing a bit of an obstruction.’

I look behind me. Oh shit, somehow I’ve caused a mini traffic jam out of the only ten cars driving in London today, and got the attention of the one policeman who seems to be at work.

‘Sorry, officer,’ I say through my sniffles, and turn the engine back on.

‘Cheer up,’ he says, ‘it’s Christmas.’

I wipe the tears from my cheeks.

‘Yeah, that’s the problem,’ I say as I drive away.

Christmas. The time to be happy and jolly. The time to be with your friends and family. The time to have that special someone in your life and hold them close. I’ve never felt less like celebrating in my life.

Daniel

Daniel was sitting on the sofa, making polite conversation with Ged’s new girlfriend, Rachel. She’d been introduced to the family and ushered into the lounge, while his mother-in-law, Mary, had called Ged into the kitchen for a not very subtle conflab. Beth had been dragged in too, but her dad, Fred, seemed determined to rise above the drama. He was sitting next to the Christmas tree, knocking back the Prosecco like it was going out of fashion. He seemed in a very strange mood. Daniel might have expected some reaction to the news of an impending grandchild, but he seemed to be totally oblivious to it.

The kids, meanwhile, found it hilarious. They were keeping a lid on it, but he could tell they were Snapchatting the odd comment to each other by the way that every so often they’d both burst into fits of giggles for no apparent reason. He shot them a warning look, but luckily, Rachel didn’t seem to notice.

She was very beautiful and at least ten years younger than Ged. Daniel hoped she knew what she was getting into. Ged didn’t exactly have a good track record with women. He had left a string of broken hearts behind him, and Daniel had lost count of the hours Beth had spent counselling Ged’s ex-girlfriends over the years.

‘So where did you two meet?’ he asked politely, trying to put Rachel at ease. The poor girl understandably looked a bit shell-shocked. Ged presumably hadn’t warned her that his parents might not be too thrilled to discover they were going to be grandparents straight away.

‘Oh.’ Her face lit up. ‘It was at the Full Moon party in Thailand. It was full of utter losers, and then there was Ged being the perfect gentleman.’

I bet he was, thought Daniel, but smiled and said, ‘That sounds great.’

Rachel carried on about what a wonderful time they’d had together, first in Thailand, then going on to Singapore and Bali before visiting her parents in Australia. ‘I fell pregnant in Bali,’ she confided. ‘So romantic.’

‘Well, congratulations,’ said Daniel. ‘I bet your parents are pleased?’

‘Oh, they’re thrilled,’ said Rachel. ‘Mum’s a bit annoyed with me for coming over here to have the baby, but I just want to be wherever Ged is, and he wanted to come home. He was so excited about the baby, he wanted to tell everyone.’

Really? Daniel wondered if Ged had changed his mind on that one. But knowing Ged, he wouldn’t have thought any of this through.

It was getting on for 1 p.m. and for once it didn’t look like the turkey would be ready in time. Daniel could hear slightly raised voices in the kitchen, and wondered whether he should go and smooth over troubled waters. He was about to get up when the doorbell rang and in rushed Lou: breathless, late, and looking suspiciously like she’d been crying. Oh no, poor Lou, what had happened now? Daniel was fond of his sister-in-law, but she always seemed to pick the wrong men when it came to her love life. This time he’d thought she and Joe, the mysterious new partner she’d met in the spring, were really going places. She’d been so happy last time she’d been over to see Beth and Daniel, and they’d both hoped it would work out for her. They’d asked to meet Joe several times, but Lou had always put them off. Now it looked like another one had bitten the dust, and they’d never get that chance.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ she burst out, ‘traffic was mayhem.’

‘Are you late?’ Fred looked up, seemingly a bit befuddled. He stood up to greet his daughter, and staggered a bit, nearly falling back into his seat. Daniel frowned. Fred normally liked a drink on Christmas Day, but Daniel had never known him to be pissed before.

There was a shriek from the kitchen, followed by a massive crash.

Daniel and Lou immediately leapt up and ran into the kitchen to see what was going on, the kids following on close behind, only to find Mary in hysterics with the turkey lying on the floor. Ged and Beth were looking a little dumbfounded.

‘It’s not a problem, Mary,’ said Daniel, stepping forward to put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Come on, we can pick it up, a little bit of dirt won’t kill us.’

‘I don’t care about the bloody turkey,’ shouted Mary, her crying stopping as abruptly as it started. Daniel was shocked. He couldn’t recall ever hearing his mother-in-law shout. She turned round to face them just as Fred wandered in, looking confused.

‘Is everything all right in here?’

‘What do you care?’ said Mary with a surprising bitterness.

‘Mary, not today,’ warned Fred.

‘Why the bloody hell not?’ she said. ‘Just because it’s Christmas?’

‘Yes, because it’s Christmas,’ said Fred. His voice was rising too, and he was looking decidedly red around the gills. ‘You know, family time and all that.’

‘Could someone kindly tell me what’s going on?’ said Lou.

‘I’ll tell you what’s going on,’ said Mary. There was a brief pause, and Daniel found himself holding his breath; he had never seen his mother-in-law behave this way. What on earth was the matter? Mary looked around the room, her hands on her hips. ‘Your dad is a cheat and a liar and is having an affair with Lilian Mountjoy. And I’ve had just about enough.’

You could have heard a pin drop. The entire Holroyd family stood in total shock. At which point, Rachel wandered in and said innocently, ‘Can I do anything to help?’

Part One

The Littlest Angel

The Littlest Angel was very excited. The whole Heavenly Host were preparing for a Big Event.

‘The Big Event,’ Gabriel said.

There had already been a buzz around a baby who had been born a few months earlier, but Gabriel said this baby was going to be even more important. This baby was going to save the world.

The Heavenly Host was going to go and tell people, and for the first time the Littlest Angel was going to be allowed to come too.

‘Is it today?’ the Littlest Angel asked her mother.

‘Not today,’ said her mother.

‘Is it today?’ asked the Littlest Angel the next day.

‘Not today,’ said her mother. ‘But soon.’

The days went by and still it wasn’t the right day, until finally the Littlest Angel asked, ‘Is it today?’

And her mother said, ‘Yes, it’s today.’

‘Yippee!’ cried the Littlest Angel. And she got ready to go.

Vanessa Marlow: What baby?

Beth King: Um, John the Baptist.

Vanessa Marlow: What’s the Heavenly Host?

Beth King: The angels.

Vanessa Marlow: What stops her from going? How does she get lost? Who does she visit on the way?

Beth King: Vanessa, I’m trying to work this out.

Vanessa Marlow: Can’t she go round the world visiting different people?

Beth King: Why would she do that?

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