Elvis was singing carols on the old wireless, which was tuned in to The Old Whistle station. Pennywort was dozing at the table watching as Emma, Dot and Aggie loaded the small boxes of Good Cheer Christmas Cake, trays and assorted pots and pans into Aggie’s van so that she could take it down to the Tapas Hut, where Christmas was in full swing.

Deciding to walk instead, Emma and Evie linked arms, their wellington-clad feet sinking into the snow.

When they got to the hut, Emma saw that Sandro was busy, carrying plates and platters. She smiled at him, feeling suddenly shy; he only gave her a small nod before his attention was pulled away by Nico.

There were fairy lights and lanterns making an amber string of light around the tent, creating an almost enchanted feel in the darkening sun, as they took a seat next to old friends and neighbours: the Brimbles, the butcher Alfred Bright, and her old friends, Maggie, her husband Jase and Mikey, who was running around all the tables and giggling. There was Jenny with her new boyfriend, and Gretchen, next to her mum, her hair sleek, dark eyes alight. All the tables were filled with people, laughing and stuffing their mouths with Dot’s glazed ham and Aggie’s Yorkshire pudding, unbuttoning their trousers and sharing a cracker with a neighbour.

She saw Evie having a word with Sandro, but looked away when Maggie said, ‘Share a cracker, cracker’, and she pulled till there was a little bang and a small toy car fell into her lap.

Afterwards everyone had a slice of the Halloways’ Christmas Cake. She heard Dot tell Ann Brimble, ‘Rumour has it that even the Allens and the Leas took a piece this year, down at the hospital. Wonders never cease!’

Emma grinned, but didn’t say anything. She was sure Dot would hear about what had happened soon enough. Mostly, despite enjoying her dinner and the company of old friends, she spent most of the afternoon wondering where Sandro was, cricking her neck any time someone came out of the Hut. Finally she turned to Evie, who she’d seen chatting with him earlier. ‘Where’s Sandro? I can’t see him anywhere.’

Evie stared, her face blanching a little, as she looked at her. ‘I thought you knew? Thought he’d told you…’

‘Told me what?’ said Emma, straightening, a small stab of fear unfurling in her chest.

‘He said something about going home for a little while.’

She frowned. ‘To the cottage… did he forget something?’

Evie blinked. ‘No love, to Spain.’

Emma’s eyes widened and her heart started to pound. ‘What! When?’

‘About a half-hour ago – he left Nico in charge. He’s gone to the Whistling coach station – it’s the only service running to the airport today. His decision to leave was a bit sudden,’ Evie admitted.

‘What! He can’t leave – I mean, he never even said goodbye!’

Evie looked upset. ‘Oh love, he was in terrible shape, he heard about everything you did for Jack. I think he wanted to be happy for you both, but you’ve got to understand… I mean, the way he feels about you—’

‘The way he feels?’

‘He’s crazy about you – it’s why he hardly ever comes around any more, why he wanted to move out.’

Emma shot up out of her seat. Her face was horror-struck. ‘The stupid arse, he can’t leave me now, not after what he’s done!’ she said throwing her napkin onto the table.

‘What’s he done?’ asked Dot, looking from Aggie to Evie in shock, as Emma tore off towards the coach station, running at full tilt, the wind whipping her long red hair all around her face, her coat flying out behind her as she staggered through the thick snow.

‘Well,’ said Evie, a wide grin splitting her face. ‘He’s only gone and made her fall in love with him, hasn’t he?’

‘He never!’ exclaimed Dot.

‘Stranger things have happened,’ said Evie.

‘In Whistling? I doubt that.’

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Emma ran and ran, skidding along patches of frosted heath and snow, her lungs on fire. She finally reached the Whistling coach station, just outside the village, and bent over, hands on her knees as she gasped for breath.

‘Cancelled, love,’ said a woman in a heavy tweed coat, a scarf looped around her face and a purple woollie hat on her dark hair. She nodded. ‘Had family coming from London and everything for Christmas tea. Looks like it’ll just be us now.’ She sighed.

‘Oh?’ said Emma. ‘Erm, sorry,’ she added as a small shoot of hope made its way into her heart.

She whirled away, looking at all the disappointed faces, searching for Sandro’s, but he wasn’t there. ‘H-have any of the coaches gone today?’ she asked a tall man with a moustache who was walking past, his head down.

‘Don’t right know, love. Suspect not.’

She nodded. Bit her lip in thought, and then left the station. Dusk was beginning to settle, snow was falling ever faster and there was a bright glow over the moors. She realised, suddenly, just how cold she was. Her feet were frozen from their long dash across them. She walked slowly, back in the general direction of the Hut. And then she smelt it.

That scent again. The one that had once woken her up, made her toes curl in pleasure. It was like chocolate mixed with hazelnut and cinnamon.

Then suddenly, she whirled around, and she knew.

‘It was you.’

She felt his hand touch her face, his fingers trail softly along her neck. When she opened her eyes, he was standing in front of her, his dark eyes staring into hers, that familiar dimple appearing in his cheek.

‘What was me?’

‘Everything, I think. What I’ve been feeling, how I’ve changed. It’s like, since my accident, I’ve seen things differently, myself differently – and what I want too.’

He caressed her face. ‘Which is?’

She swallowed. ‘You.’

He kissed her then and she realised that it was love, real love that she felt and that Evie was right, it was still magic, even when you knew how it worked.

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